Okay, sorry for the slight lateness of this chapter, it's a bit long. It actually would have been out yesterday, but deleted everything I edited. But anyway, a couple notes before we start:
Firstly, this story has hit fifty reviews! So thank you very much to everyone who review, and even to those who didn't because I love you guys too.
Secondly, this story was also recommended on TVTropes! That was actually kind of a dream of mine, so thank you to Solandra for the rec! Anyway, on with the story!
Talking on Paper
by IdiotFromOsaka
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous."~Ingrid Bergman
oOoOo
Time passed, as time tends to do, and life went on normally. Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks.
One week, to be exact.
From a stranger's perspective, it would appear that not much had changed. Even with the project over, Kiku and Herakles still sat side by side in class, chatting more than they probably should have. They painted, with watercolors now, commenting on each other's choice of perspective, colors, technique. But there were differences, seemingly unimportant to an outsider's eye, but all too significant to Kiku.
The lack of visits, for one.
With the project having finished, there was absolutely no reason for Kiku and Herakles to continue meeting outside of school so much, aside from just hanging out. It would appear… odd, to be together as often as they once were.
Being together, for no other reason than to just be… It would attract attention. A bad sort of attention. So Kiku invented tiny little lies- too much homework, a test to study for, chores- to keep himself from hanging out with Herakles too often.
(He just didn't want attention, Kiku told himself. But attention didn't scare him nearly as much as the beating in his chest and warming of his face that only Herakles could cause.)
And Herakles. There was something off about him, something Kiku could not quite place. Maybe it was that the shine in his eyes, drops of dew painted on sea of grass, had seemed to dim. Perhaps his shoulders slumped a bit more than usual, or his smiles fell into frowns much too quickly. He seemed… sad, almost. Disappointed?
Kiku would not be surprised if he was. Herakles had every right.
It was because of this that Kiku was absolutely puzzled by the events of a certain Friday afternoon.
Kiku leaned back in his chair, sighing as he went. Mrs. Tanner stood at the front of the room, lips pulled into a forced smile and hair out of place. She was telling the class about… something. Honestly, Kiku had stopped watching Mrs. Lacy ages ago, instead deciding stare pointedly at the clock, like watching it made it move faster. It was incredibly unlike him, to not pay attention in class, but Kiku was far too tired to care.
The excuses he had given Herakles were not complete lies; he'd been bombarded with homework the night before. The work had been finished, luckily, but Kiku had time for little else that night, even working straight through dinner.
He wondered if his tiredness showed- if there were dark circles painted under his eyes, or if he yawned a bit to much.
He wondered if Herakles noticed.
Apprehensive, Kiku let his gaze slide in the direction of said sleepy boy. Herakles seemed asleep, body leaned over the table and head resting on lazily folded arms. His eyes had been closed for some time now, dark lashes fanning out on the tops of his cheeks and fluttering occasionally. Kiku found it odd, the way Herakles always seemed to sleep but never showed any signs of having worked too hard or staying up too late. But many things about Herakles were rather odd.
Slowly, Herakles' left hand curled inward. Kiku watched as the movement came to a stop, fingers half-way between an open palm and a fist, with a bit of space between each digit. The corner of Herakles' mouth curled into a pleasant smile, and Kiku felt himself become much more aware of the position of his own hands.
He had come to hate it, how everything seemed to lead back to Herakles.
Kiku had held his hand. Held his hand. Did people normally get so excited about something like that?
He could still feel the warmth of Herakles' fingers laced between his own, if he tried hard enough.
Feeling his face beginning to warm, heart pump, hands shake, Kiku turned his attention to the front of the room. The blackboard and area in front of it was decidedly empty, Mrs. Tanner having retreated to her desk. Students began to gather their things, conversing as they did. A few early birds trickled towards the door, eager to get out of the classroom.
Kiku sighed, an act of both relief and frustration. Relief, because it'd finally just set in that it was Friday, meaning a nice break from the hassle of school. Frustration, because class was coming to an end, and Herakles was still sleeping. Meaning someone, namely Kiku, would have to wake him up.
When had that become something to dread? When had Kiku stopped wanting to see that way Herakles first looked as he awoke, all bleary eyed and groggy but still smiling?
Kiku reached out, resting a nervous hand on Herakles' shoulder. Never, he thought. Kiku knew he was just stupidly awkward about such things.
He shook the boy awake, watching as his eyes fluttered open. Quickly, but reluctantly, Kiku pulled his hand away, reaching for the notebook laying on the table before them. Herakles sat up, straightening his shoulders and eyeing Kiku curiously. He ran a hand through his hair, a sad attempt to straighten the mess, although it wasn't much more unkempt than usual.
Picking up a mechanical pencil, nearly out of lead, Kiku began to scribble a note. Class is about to end.
Herakles blinked, then nodded. Thanks for waking me, he replied. The pencil he wrote with was incredibly dull, the graphite barely protruding from the wood, causing his handwriting to be even more illegible than usual. Kiku wondered why Herakles didn't just use a mechanical.
There was a small, still moment, where neither made a move to write. But unlike other times, similar moments, it was completely and utterly awkward. Kiku could practically feel Herakles' stiffness, even though they didn't touch. It scared him, just a little, when Herakles was like this- edgy, unsure. It was just so… not Herakles.
Beside him, Herakles breathed in deeply, his chest puffing up with air, and moved his hand towards the paper.
Would you like to hang out today? Kiku had just been waiting for the question to appear. He'd been asked it every day this week, and he knew today would be no different. He stared, thoughtful, at the question before him. He'd turned down the offer every time it was asked. Lifting his eyes up meet Herakles' own, Kiku found his mind twisting in a different direction than normal. There was a certain kind of… hope, in his expression, his eyes. A hope that should have diminished, Kiku supposed, each time he was rejected, but had seemed to come back full force.
Kiku's lips quirked a smile. That sounds fun.
It was almost funny, the way Herakles' face immediately lit up at his answer. The other boy's eyes had considerably widened, probably both out of shock and happiness. Timidly, Herakles licked his lips, scribbling words onto the paper. What would you like to do?
Kiku shrugged, unsure himself. There was no project to work on anymore, so they couldn't do that. Kiku didn't go out with friends often, leaving him with little to no idea of what was usually done on these outings. He looked at Herakles, somewhat expectantly, eyebrows raised.
Herakles, seeming to understand, began to write again. He brushed a piece of hair behind his ear, but the action was futile, as the hair only fell back in his face.
Well, have you ever had a gyro?
Kiku shook his head no. He knew the word, knew it was a sort of dish, but had never seen nor eaten one for himself.
Herakles smiled just a tiny bit wider. He rolled his pencil between his fingers. Well, I get a discount at the shop I work at, if you'd like to try one.
Kiku looked down at the small note, letting his dark bangs fall across his face. He remembered Herakles having said something about where he worked, once. He squeezed the pencil lightly in his hand, and his toes curled inside his shoes. The corners of his mouth tightened slightly as he replied. That sounds fun. Herakles' face absolutely lit up.
All at once, the class began to stand up, collectively moving towards the door. Herakles began to quickly scribble once again, asking a small, simple question. You ready?
Kiku grabbed his backpack from beneath the table and swung it over his shoulder as he stood, turning his head so his eyes met Herakles'. The corner of his mouth curved upward uncontrollably, refusing to pull back down into his normal expression. He was was left, nodding, with odd looking smile on his face.
The pair (pair… Kiku kind of liked the feel of that word) left the building together, unknowingly walking in time. Kiku's right foot would fall forward and Herakles' would follow, as if they were marching. With one hand, Kiku lightly gripped the strap of his backpack, ensuring he could hold the weight that was his bag. For whatever reason, he would keep several textbooks in there at a time, just in case.
It seemed that both had brought all of their homework to their last class, leaving no reason to return to their lockers, so they simply just walked out the doors, only stopping to glance at their class' artwork hung magnificently on the wall. Herakles shot him a curious glance, apparently noticing that Kiku's painting wasn't there. Kiku hastily spelt out 'contest' in reply. Somewhere in that conversation, there was the silent agreement that it would be explained later.
Stepping through the school doors, into the smell of earth and the feel of sunshine, Kiku released a contented sigh. Perhaps, just perhaps, things were getting back to normal.
oOoOo
Things felt rather perfect, walking to the gyro shop. The air felt refreshing as it traveled in and out of Kiku's lungs, neither warm nor cold and tainted with the smell of fall rain. Bright colored leaves crunched beneath his feet, breaking into smaller pieces as he walked. Herakles was a comfortable presence beside Kiku, smiling lightly and taking smaller steps than usual. Rather perfect indeed.
Some people probably found it strange, but Kiku preferred walking to places. He, like most people his age, had his driver's license, but there was something about traveling by foot that made him enjoy it so much more than driving. It was much easier to think when he was walking, not really needing to pay as close attention to signs and the road before him. He got a bit of exercise too. And not to mention, he and Herakles could talk a bit.
Herakles, it seemed, was a rather fast learner. And he liked to learn as well (something hard to believe, considering how many naps he took during the school day). But nevertheless, Herakles was a curious creature, eager to learn things that interested him. Sign language seemed to fall under this category.
Herakles kicked a rather large leaf as he brought his hands up once again. His eyes held a glimmer of curiosity as he signed, for the umpteenth time, what appeared to be his new favorite phrase.
'How do you sign…?'
This time, it was followed by Herakles dropping a hand to the edge of his jacket. He gave it a light tug, sending ripples through the fabric. Jacket, Kiku assumed, from the lack of him pointing out any specific part of the jacket itself. Herakles sent him an eager look as Kiku begun to move his hand from his sides, and up to his shoulders. Hands closed, he made a motion as if he were pulling a piece of cloth over his body, making a small arc and stopping at the top of his chest. Then, he brought his hands a bit away from his chest, making another small semi-circle.
Herakles stared, wide eyed, as if it would help absorb the motion into his memory. His hands shook slightly as he brought his hands up as well, preparing to mimic the smaller boy. At first, the word was slow and tentative, but as Herakles tried it again the motion became fluid, natural.
Kiku's smile was polite as he nodded in approval, trying to hide that little bubble of warmth that appeared in his chest each time Herakles signed something new. Herakles' smile grew wide, facial expression like that of a child receiving new toy. Kiku, pressing his lips together, noticed his face growing warm.
They continued to walk along, content in each other's company. Herakles brought his chin a little higher, so that his eyes directed towards the expanse of blue above them. Out of the corner of his eye, Kiku just watched, the slight changes of expression on his face, the wind playing in his hair. Suddenly, a large breeze blasted through the air, effectively startling Kiku and sending chill through his body.
He pulled his jacket a little tighter. Herakles had slowed his pace, steps turning lazier. Kiku let his pace slow as well, angling his head in Herakles' direction. And the taller boy smiled, letting a laugh escape him. Kiku watched the way his chest jumped a little, and couldn't help but do the same.
The gyro shop was only about a fifteen minute walk from the school, to Kiku's delight. The building was a small, isolated one, painted a shade of yellowish off-white and surrounded by a sea of concrete. Only four cars were parked outside the restaurant, something that seemed reasonable in Kiku's mind. It was only just past three, after all, meaning the lunch rush would be over and the prospect of dinner was still far off.
Over the doorway, there hung a large sign, obviously supposed to glow at night, but dirtied and faded. In large, angular letters, was the name Alekzander's.
Herakles led him in, politely holding back the large wooden door as Kiku passed. The inside of the building was slightly cooler than outside, but not by much. Kiku attributed it to the cool white tile beneath his feet, and maybe even the cool colors decorating the place. Kiku had read once that cool colors, blues, greens, purples, could actually make a person feel cold. And although the interior of the restaurant was primarily white, any other color decorating the building was blue- blue on the cushions of chairs, in the backgrounds of paintings, lining the edges of tables.
The smell of the building was different, to Kiku at least. But not in a bad way. He liked it, the way the new and unfamiliar smell danced in his head with each breath he took. There were spices in the air, mixing with the scent of cooked meat and, just barely, the smell of something sweet.
To Kiku's left was a small counter, connected to a display case filled to the brim with pastries. A young man, likely only a few years older than Kiku, leaned against the counter, a bored expression etched into his features. Elbow rested against the countertop, a tanned hand was placed under his stubble-ridden chin. Dark hair stood up aimlessly on his head as he peered around the nearly-vacant restaurant.
The man's eyes flicked toward Kiku and Herakles, face immediately twisting into a scowl. A spark of anger lit in his eyes as he shot a glare in Herakles' direction, and, to Kiku's surprise, Herakles was glaring back.
Herakles.
Was glaring.
It was at this point that Kiku decided that something was seriously wrong.
Lips curled into a frown, Herakles took a confident step towards the man. Kiku noticed he was standing up straight now, a bit too straight, his muscles tightened and hands curled into fists. Kiku followed Herakles' lead, moving closer to the register, finding a place a few inches behind the taller boy. At the moment, he felt it would be better to not get involved in… whatever was going on.
The man, face moving into a devious smirk, spat what seemed to be insulting words at Herakles. He leaned his weight farther onto the counter, eyes daring Herakles to respond.
Kiku was slightly startled at the response, the way Herakles' chin shot up in defiance, how his shoulder blades pushed backward and chest puffed up. He shot back an angry sentence, and Kiku found himself shying slightly backward.
The man leaned closer, replying with an angry flick of his tongue, his eyebrows beginning to furrow. Herakles moved even closer as he answered the man, his shoulders beginning to rise defensively. Kiku could practically feel the tension in the room as they argued back and forth, the quarrel slowly becoming more and more heated. Herakles was gritting his teeth now, and his arms shook.
It was so completely and utterly weird. Herakles was calm, patient, understanding, nothing like this strange, angry boy before him. There was a strange, illogical part of Kiku's brain that said this couldn't possibly be the Herakles Karpusi that he knew, simply a rather angry doppelganger that had momentarily taken his place. But the logical part of his brain said otherwise, knowing that this was truly Herakles he was seeing, albeit a different side.
The man was standing now, palms pressed flat against the countertop as he leaned forward. Herakles' fists were shaking. Kiku didn't think it was possible, but the tension in the room had heightened. Herakles' fist began to gradually be lifted from his side and, in a split second heat of the moment decision, Kiku decided to step between the two.
It was nearly automatic, the change in mood. Kiku held his hands up, one palm faced towards each man, his shoulders tensing as he realized just what he was getting himself into. He first looked at Herakles, trying to communicate how uncomfortable he felt in that moment, and it seemed he was successful; Herakles' face dropped, his eyes widening and lips parting. Something strange happened in his eyes, that flame of anger and hatred was extinguished, replaced with something… apologetic? Herakles' shoulders fell forward into a casual slump as he brought what had once been a shaking fist up to his chest.
Although the fingers were still curled in, they were much looser now, finding their place in the center of Herakles' chest. With that fist, he made a small circle.
'I'm sorry.'
Kiku felt his lips curving upward. 'It's okay,' he replied, trying to offer some sort of solace. He leaned his head toward the sitting area, raising his eyebrows. 'Table?' Kiku asked.
Herakles nodded rather distractedly, taking a small step forward towards the register. He didn't look the young man in the eye, instead directing his focus at the menu board above him. His eyes had that glazed over look to them, as if he were looking, but not really. Lost in thought, perhaps.
Kiku turned to leave, eyeing a rather nice-looking booth by a window, when a hand reached out, latching onto his wrist. Kiku felt his muscles stiffen for a moment, before recognizing the feel of said hand, the slight largeness of it. He tilted his head back at Herakles.
The boy's eyes were wide, rather unsure as his hand released it's grip on Kiku's wrist. His hand was brought up to his chin, forming around an invisible cup with his hands as he tilted it back.
'Drink?'
Kiku smiled a small smile, beginning to bring his hands up. 'Water, please.' Herakles nodded a response, and Kiku cast a sidelong glance at the young man behind the counter. His brows were furrowed, not in anger, but out of confusion from the exchange taking place. Kiku turned back to the sitting area, making his way to that nice little booth.
Herakles joined him only a few minutes later, bringing with him two paper cups- one full of water, and the other with what appeared to be some sort of cola. He slid into the booth, placing the two drinks at their respective places on the table as he began to slip his backpack off of his shoulders. He pulled out that familiar red notebook and a pair of wooden pencils, setting them on the top of the painted wooden table.
That red notebook. They'd been using it for quite a while now, although there was really no reason to. Kiku had located the green one ages ago, many of the pages still not used. But by then, the red notebook had far too many memories attached to it, so Kiku made the rather irrational decision to continue using the red notebook for the time being.
(He hadn't told Herakles, for some odd reason feeling very apprehensive about doing such a thing. The green notebook was hidden in his bookshelf between book twenty-four of Ranma 1/2 and a thesaurus.)
Herakles brought the tip of his pencil to the paper before him, his shoulders slightly hunched as he began to write. Sorry about that. His handwriting was slightly neater than usual, the strokes thinner and much less slanted.
It's fine, Kiku wrote back, trying to appear passive about the situation but still curious. After a moment of internal debate, curiosity won over. But, what happened exactly?
Herakles released a deep sigh, eyes straying to the man at the register. That was Sadiq. His handwriting left indentions in the paper. We kinda hate each other.
Kiku cocked his head at the statement, as if to ask "Kinda?"
Herakles' lips fell into a frown. Okay, we really hate each other. So, we fight a lot. The sarcastic part of Kiku's brain immediately said 'No. Really.' Sorry, I didn't know it was his shift today. Kiku pulled a calm look onto his face, waving his hand as if to say it was okay.
It's a bit… Kiku brought the eraser of his pencil to his chin as he thought of the right word. …disconcerting to see you angry though. Herakles expression began to turn worried. Not in a bad way- it's interesting to see a different side of you. The taller boy's face relaxed, eyebrows having slackened and lips forming an almost-smile. And looking at him, a weird, warm feeling that he couldn't quite describe began to fill Kiku's chest. Kiku decided he liked it.
That odd, yet comfortable moment returned, where hands did not move, and both were content with just letting their thoughts run their course. Occasionally, they would catch each other's gases, brown meeting green, and they'd smile and chuckle under their breath. It was at this point that Kiku realized something.
This… outing felt an awful lot like a date.
Not that Kiku would have any experience with anything romantic, but he'd read quite a few books in his time, and watched his fair share of television, and he was pretty sure that a date went an awful lot like what was happening right now.
His face was warm, his shoulders stiffening. Did Herakles notice? Oh God, Kiku hoped not.
Kiku replayed the day's events over in his head. Herakles had asked him to go eat with him (just the two of them, just the two of them), they walked to the restaurant together, they were about to eat. Together. Not with a group of friends. Just Herakles. And just Kiku.
He could feel his pulse beginning to quicken. From across the table, Herakles was eyeing him curiously, brows beginning to knot. In a spur of the moment decision, Kiku lifted his hand, balancing his pencil between his fingers, and brought it down to the nearly blank paper before him.
He had to ask a question.
Start a conversation.
Something, anything, to keep him mind away from that.
Because Kiku knew he liked Herakles a lot, maybe too much, and he was pretty sure Herakles liked him back, and as much as he hated to admit it he couldn't ruin this thing had going by being an awkward, nervous wreck because he suddenly started thinking like that.
The tip of Kiku's pencil pressed against the paper.
So, what is a gyro anyway?
Herakles' face lit up at the suggestion, as if he were excited to teach Kiku something, as opposed to the other way around. His eyes still contained their normal sleepiness, but were a bit wider than usual.
It's this seasoned meat wrapped in pita bread. Herakles looked up, searching Kiku's eyes for… something. Kiku's eyebrows were gently knit, not appalled or uninterested, but somewhat confused. The dish didn't sound incredibly interesting from what he'd been told, especially compared to how excited Herakles had been about asking Kiku to try one. Herakles' face suddenly held a look of nervousness; he ducked his head down and quickly scribbled a second part to the description.They serve it with this yogurt sause and tomato. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's really good.
Kiku brought his face into a polite smile as he wrote. I'm excited to try it. He really wasn't that excited. You work here, right? Herakles nodded. Do you make the gyros?
To Kiku's surprise, Herakles just chuckled to himself, hair brushing from side to side as he shook his head. No, he wrote, I'm not really good at cooking. I just work the register and bus tables. Herakles quirked a small, slightly shameful smile as he mocked himself. The only reason I actually have a job here is because my mom was friends with the owner.
Herakles' mother. She was an enigma to Kiku, never having actually appeared before him, despite her strong presence in the Karpusi home. There were plenty of photos decorating the walls, the tables, of a beautiful brunette woman with the same mess of wavy hair as here son. Kiku knew near nothing about her, but he could make little guesses. Her smile was a calm, relaxed one, showing off the shallow laugh lines on her face. She was a happy person, but not overly energetic. She was a calm sort of happy. And judging from all the times she hugged Herakles in the photos, she really, truly loved her son, and was certainly not afraid of showing it. And judging from Herakles' lack of protest, he loved his mother just as much.
But Kiku, despite all the information he had picked up, was still very curious about the woman. Without much hesitation, he decided it wouldn't hurt to ask.
Kiku began to etch words into the half-filled paper. What's your mother like? I haven't met her.
Kiku immediately regretted that he asked. It was not that Kiku feared how it would be answered, nor regretting how he phrased it, but Herakles' face.
His lips had fallen into a frown, lips pressed tightly together as he swallowed. And his eyes. At first, they held a bit of shock, eyelashes fluttering, but then understanding, and finally some sort of watered down sadness, the type that had been lurking quietly beneath the surface, just waiting for the right moment to rise.
It was old sadness.
Herakles, somehow someway, was smiling. He bit his lip as he looked to the table, as if remembering something. His smile, Kiku was sure, was in no way fake. Herakles wasn't the type to fake a smile, even for Kiku's sake. Kiku watched as Herakles' gaze flitted about the tiles of the floor, mind clearly having fled reality.
Kiku's heart nearly stopped, a sudden realization hitting him. He knew that type of sadness, he had seen it before.
Herakles looked up, smiling kindly at Kiku as he brought his pencil back to the paper. His eyes moved to the ceiling in thought, as if he was looking for just the right words.
She was very kind, he wrote, words scrawling slowly across the paper. And smart. She was always teaching me new things, especially history. His smile widened, eyes filled to the brim with nostalgia. She was a history teacher so I guess that makes sense.
A single word resonated in Kiku's mind.
Was.
Herakles continued writing, completely oblivious to the way Kiku's brows had knotted, his muscles tensed. She died a couple years ago, so that's why you haven't met her.
Kiku swallowed thickly as he was proven right. It was sadness from things lost. Sadness from love lost.
He willed his hand to write straight as he pressed it to the paper (it was almost full now). The words formed slowly, slipping reluctantly from the pencil in his hand.
I'm sorry.
Herakles smiled, sweetly. Don't apologize. Besides, she's probably just hanging out in Elysium right now. I'll see her eventually.
Kiku's toes pressed down against the bottom of his shoes as he studied Herakles. The smile on his face was just barely there, looking as if just a single careless word would let it slip away. His eyes gleamed with a bit of cynicism, as if he had seen too much, as if he didn't quite believe himself. There was a gaping, empty hole in Kiku's chest where he was compensating for the sadness Herakles did not show.
Kiku decided he hated it. He hated that look on Herakles' face, he hated the way his shoulders were slumping, he hated how it felt like Herakles wasn't quite there. As much as he liked learning new things about Herakles, he wanted to see him happy. The smile on Herakles' face lied, because he was certainly not happy.
Kiku decided to change the subject.
You really like Greek mythology, don't you?
Herakles nodded absently. My mom would always tell them to me as bedtime stories. His chest moved slightly, shoulders curling up as he chuckled. Well, clean versions of them anyway.
Herakles' gaze slid past Kiku, focusing on something behind him. It was then that Kiku noticed that Herakles was not really there. Well, not mentally. By the nostalgia filling his eyes, Kiku could guess that maybe, just maybe, Herakles had drifted to the past. Maybe his arms were wrapped around his mother, just a few years back. Maybe he was a small child, wrapped in bedsheets, smiling as he learned of the hero that shared his name.
It was like that for a bit longer, Kiku sitting rather still, only being able to guess what was going in Herakles' mind, the boy's face gradually changing expression as they sat. Herakles suddenly picked up his pencil again, tentatively beginning to write.
I'm going to the bathroom, okay? He only let his gaze drop to Kiku for a split second, just long enough to see him nod, before excusing himself from the table.
Kiku let himself lean over the table, elbows balanced on the wood and heels of his hands press against his eyes. He just didn't know how to feel. Part of him wanted to feel happy, elated that Herakles was letting Kiku into his life, letting him see different sides of the boy. And Kiku was, a little bit. But not completely. That sad sad look in Herakles eyes… Kiku couldn't stand it. The way Herakles smiled even though he looked like he wanted to cry, it triggered this stupid, painful sensation in his chest. Like Herakles being sad made him sad as well.
Kiku couldn't fathom it, losing a parent. And losing a close parent at that. Losing his mother. Kiku didn't want to think about it, what it would be like for his mother to only exist in memories. To know that he would never again be able to eat dinner with her, never show her his newest painting, never give her a hug. Just imagining made his heart hurt.
Kiku's heart pumped faster as he realized that, not only did the though make him sad, it scared him. He had only ever had his mother. His father was a mystery, always known as simply 'an old boyfriend from college'. His extended family didn't even live in the same country as him. If Kiku's mother were to die, he would be all alone-
He was jolted out of his train of thought by tray of food sliding into his vision. There were two plastic plates on it, holding what Kiku could only assume to be a gyro. It consisted of several strips of meat, light brown with spices mixed in, wrapped in a small, round piece of pita bread. Each sandwich was topped with two slices of tomato, and to the side was a small cup of a sort of white sauce, which Kiku assumed to be the yogurt sauce Herakles had talked about.
Kiku tilted his head up, eyes meeting those of the man who carried the tray. It was a familiar, stubbly face. The young man, Sadiq.
He stared down at Kiku, a slightly annoyed look etched into his features. Opening his mouth, Sadiq spoke- but not angrily, to Kiku's delight. Words slipped off his tongue like he was simply stating a fact. What that fact was, however, was an unknown.
Kiku reached for the for the notebook in the center of the table, quickly turning the page and pushing it in Sadiq's direction. Sadiq looked down at the paper, curiously, before looking back up at Kiku, and then down at the paper again. A question in his eyes, he mouthed words, moving his hand in a writing motion. Kiku nodded.
Sadiq reached for a pencil, Herakles' pencil, Kiku noticed, and brought it to the paper. I called your number like 10 times, he wrote. His handwriting wasn't as sloppy as Herakles', but it certainly wasn't neat either. Sadiq pressed hard when he wrote, leaving indentions in the notebook.
Sorry, Kiku replied. He brought a hand to his ear, tapping twice. Sadiq's eyes opened a bit wider in understanding, and he nodded.
For a moment, Sadiq lifted his head, scanning the small restaurant. His brows knotted as he began to write again. Where'd Karpusi go?
Bathroom.
Sadiq's face twisted into a scowl, and he glared pointedly towards the bathroom. That was a jerk move. He just left you here?
Kiku felt his brow began to furrow, still not quite understanding why Herakles and Sadiq hated each other so much. I'm fine.
Still, he's such a jerk. There was a bit of anger, and a bit of confusion in Sadiq's face as he looked at Kiku. The anger was not directed at Kiku though, there was no glare attached to it. That anger was reserved solely for Herakles Karpusi. Why'd you come with him anyway?
Well, we're friends, Kiku began. The word 'friends' stuck out unnaturally in his mind, not because he was desperately holding onto it like he was falling and it was the only rope in sight, no. Something had changed. He hated that word. He wanted it changed. When did that happen? When had he given in? Kiku pushed the thoughts away, and finished the sentence. And he invited me.
Sadiq frowned at him, like he didn't quite believe what Kiku had told him. Hm, fine. Another glare was shot at the bathroom before Sadiq's lips pulled into a cocky smile. But if he's a jerk to you, just talk to me allright? His teeth were showing now, and the look he gave Kiku seemed to be one of kindness. I'll beat him up for you.
Kiku, unsure of exactly how to answer that, just nodded. Sadiq seemed to take that as an acceptable answer, smiling widely at the smaller boy. He threw a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to the register, and waved a goodbye to Kiku as he walked back to the front of the restaurant.
Kiku was left a bit confused.
Herakles returned moments later, his gate a bit bouncier as he walked. He was smiling, not a sad smile, but a nice, calm, happy one. Kiku quickly ripped out his conversation with Sadiq, folding it up hurriedly and shoving it in his pocket before Herakles could see.
Sorry about that, Herakles wrote as soon as he slid back into the booth. He leaned back a little in his chair, eye widening and mouth forming a small 'o' shape as he registered the food at the table. He looked up, concerned. Did you have to deal with Sadiq?
Kiku nodded, a bit tentative as he saw Herakles shoot an irritated glare at the cashier. It was fine, though. He was nice. From the look Kiku received, he may have well told Herakles that aliens were attacking, but it was okay because they were being fought by teenage girls with magical powers.
Well, anyway, Herakles wrote, seeming desperate to change the subject, let's eat. And weren't you going to tell me about a contest you entered?
oOoOo
Kiku arrived back home, with Herakles by his side, some time between 4;30 and 5 o'clock. They had eaten their gyros (which were really rather good) pretty quickly, but they'd chatted a little longer before deciding to leave. However, not quite ready to abandon their little get together just yet, the pair decided to go back to Kiku's place to hang out a little longer.
Kiku opened the front door, sliding his key into the lock. He turned it to the right, as he had many times before, then rotating it back into an upright position. The key was pulled out of the lock, and Kiku turned the handle. The door, however, seemed to be stuck (it did that sometimes). Handle still turned, Kiku pressed his shoulder against the dark wood, ramming into it once, twice, three times before it opened.
He led Herakles in, the two of them slipping off their shoes at the door. The tile in the foyer was cool beneath Kiku's feet, the chill even slipping through the fabric his socks. They walked a little further, past the stairs and kitchen, and into the living room. (The lights were on, an Kiku attributed it to his mother forgetting to turn it off in the morning. She did that sometimes.)They both fell lazily onto the couch, backpacks slipping off and legs stretching. Kiku tilted his head in Herakles' direction, a tired smile inching its way onto his face. Herakles looked back.
And they laughed, for no reason other than laughing.
Herakles bent forward, smile still present on his face, and pulled the red notebook from his backpack. He brought a pair of pencils with him, using the smaller of two to write.
I had a lot of fun today. His strokes were light on the paper, words forming a bit more slowly than usual.
Kiku could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he nodded in reply. He took the other pencil. Me too. His face was warm, he could feel it. He couldn't help it; this just felt so date-like. And Herakles had neither confirmed nor denied that this was a date, so it very well could be one. And from the way Herakles was looking that Herakles was looking at him, Kiku was pretty sure he was correct to assume that this was one, and God, his heart felt like it would burst.
Herakles lifted a hand, bringing it to his ear. 'Kiku,' he signed, and Kiku's pulse raced even faster. 'How do you sign K-I-S-S?'
Kiku could barely breath, could barely think. The only thing he could think to do was answer, bringing his hands up to his chest. His hands made two rounded triangles, fingers all coming together at a thin vertex. He pressed the two vertexes together.
Herakles was looking down at him, looking a bit nervous. Not nearly as nervous as Kiku, but nervous all the same. He copied the motion with ease, a question in his eyes.
The only way Kiku could think to respond was with a tiny nod.
A small, lazy smile appeared on Herakles' face as he lifted a hand to cup Kiku's cheek. His touch was like electricity to Kiku. Kiku knew what came next. Herakles was inching closer and closer, Kiku's heart beat faster and faster, until finally, finally, their lips touched.
And it was awkward and clumsy and new and strange and absolutely positively perfect.
It was so easy, just to get lost in the feeling of Herakles' slightly lips against his own (they were slightly chapped, a little salty), so easy for Kiku not to pay attention to the world around him. (Because in that moment, other people didn't matter, and the world only consisted of Herakles and Kiku and absolutely no one else).
But their were other people in the world, something Kiku only remembered when they pulled apart, and he was looking into Herakles' perfectly emerald eyes, and he realized that they were not the only people in the room.
Kiku quickly turned his head, practically jumping away from Herakles as he registered the other figure- a woman with a petite figure, dark hair falling to her shoulders. His mother.
Kiku's face couldn't have been more warm. His mother was staring at the pair of them, an unreadable look on her face. There were too many emotions in their: shock, embarrassment, confusion… disgust? (He hoped he was wrong about that last one). Kiku refused to look at Herakles.
His mother's face quickly returned to her normal, composed look. She brushed her fingers through her hair, turning her gaze to Herakles. There was a stern look in her eyes as she raised her hands and opened her mouth at the same time. 'I think it'd be best if you left now.' It was not as much of a suggestion as it was an order, something that Herakles recognized. Kiku went against his decision to not look at Herakles, and let his eyes follow the boy as he zipped up his backpack and turned to go towards the door. For a moment, he stopped, pulling a hand to his chest.
'Sorry.'
And then he left.
Kiku's mother moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of where Herakles had been. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her head angled downward. Like she didn't want to look.
A million possibilities passed through Kiku's mind, of how she would respond, what she would say.
I'm disappointed.
It's just a phase, right?
You're no longer my son.
Get out of my sight.
Suddenly, Kiku's mother lifted her head, eyes meeting her son's. She took a deep breath, unclasping her hands. 'So,' she started. 'Are you and Herakles… together?'
Kiku found himself being both relieved and anxious at the question. Relief, because it was not nearly as bad as he had anticipated. Anxious, because he really couldn't answer that question.
'I'm not really sure.' Kiku had no experience with these sort of things, so he didn't trust himself with deciding if he was in a relationship or not. 'Maybe?'
Kiku's mother smiled, just a bit, at the somewhat odd answer. It was almost as if she was trying to lighten mood, although it didn't seem to affect Kiku much. He was still just as nervous as ever.
Her expression faded back to one of seriousness, lips pressed together as she posed another question. 'Are you gay then?'
This question took much less thought. It was rather simple; Kiku had kissed Herakles. Herakles was a guy. And Kiku had liked kissing Herakles, a guy. And he would gladly do it over again. And again.
And besides, when he thought about it, kissing a girl sounded rather unpleasant.
Kiku nodded to his mother. 'I think so.'
For a little while, they didn't talk. Kiku's mother just breathed, in, out, in, out, trying to take the new information in. Her lips were pressed together tightly, her eyes having gone back to staring at her hands. Her toes bent nervously. Kiku felt his muscles stiffen, the couch suddenly becoming rather uncomfortable. His hands gripped the edge of the cushion beneath him. Slowly, carefully, he brought one hand to his chest, making a small circle motion with his fist.
'I'm sorry.'
And Kiku's mother simply smiled. She looked up at her son (when had Kiku grown taller than her?) eyes full of what Kiku could only describe as love. Her hand touched his shoulder, squeezing lightly.
'Don't apologize. We'll figure this out later, alright?' Kiku nodded, relieved. 'Now, are you hungry?'
Kiku replied that he'd already eaten.
oOoOo
Saturday was much less eventful than the day prior.
Kiku didn't do much more than sleep, eat, and work on homework. But that was done. Now it was time for some video games.
Pokémon, to be specific.
Kiku stared angrily down at the small, luminous screen of his DS, back against the headboard of his bed. It was uncomfortable, but Kiku didn't care. He was right in the middle of a rather intense battle with the first of the Final Four, and he was, to his delight, winning.
His opponent was down to his last Pokémon, a bug type. Kiku smiled a smile filled to the brim with satisfaction as he sent out his Rapidash, level seventy and with full HP. The opposing Pokémon was out in only a couple of hits.
Kiku released a deep sigh. It was weird, how simple video games like that could get him so incredibly worked up. He guessed that he simply got too into the game, started feeling like he was there. He only really remembered reality when all the tension was gone, when he was just exploring a brand new town, no need to fear any trainers or wild Pokémon. To be honest, he sometimes preferred his digital world to the real one.
Like now, for instance,
It was amazing, how yesterday had gone from utterly awkward to absolutely amazing to awkward again.
Kiku and Herakles hadn't conversed since yesterday, and Kiku's mother had completely avoided the topic. It was as if Friday had never even happened.
But it had, and Kiku was left utterly confused.
Kiku turned his attention back to his game, going into his bag and saving his game. His hand moved around the smooth plastic of his DS to the ON/OFF button, and with a flick of his finger, the screen turned black. Kiku was pretty sure he'd had enough of the game for now, instead turning his attention to his computer.
He willed himself off the bed (the mattress was rather comfy), making his way to his desk. Kiku practically fell into the wooden chair, moving his hand to open the small laptop that the Honda family shared. Immediately, he went to check his email.
There were only two emails in Kiku's inbox. The first was spam. The second was from Feliciano. He opened the second.
NEW MESSAGE
FROM:
MESSAGE:
hi kiku! i kinda have a problem so i was wundering if u cud help me? cuz i know ur reeealy good with problems like this cuz i see you reading some of those romanse comic books all the time!
Kiku rather resented that last statement, as he didn't own any romance manga.
(Okay, so maybe a few. But he did not read them all the time.) Kiku continued reading.
so i really wanna tell luddy that i like him, but i dont kno how cuz luddy is always reeeealy dense about romancy stuff so i think hell not get what im saying u know? help plz!
Kiku sighed at the computer screen. Like he would know what to do. Why did Feliciano choose him of all people to ask for help when it came to relationships? He'd be better off asking Lovino for advice. (On second thought, maybe not. Lovino was rather well known for his temper, making it a point to learn nearly every cuss word in sign language, English, and Italian, and his hatred of Ludwig. If Feliciano went to his brother about it, he'd be yelling about it the rest of the day. Kiku had been told that Lovino was rather loud).
So Kiku did the cowardly thing, and x-ed out of his email.
Guilt slowly beginning to fill his chest, Kiku closed his laptop, sliding out of his chair's awkward embrace. His game, his nice little escape from reality, looked incredibly appealing at the moment. Kiku climbed back onto his bed, settling into his mattress. He picked up his DS and continued his game.
Okay, just a couple notes to end this chapter:
People who like each other will mimic each other's body language.
Cool colors actually do make you feel cold (we learned about it in art class).
Gyros are really good, so you guys should go out and try one if you haven't.
In Greek mythology, Elysium is the part of the Underworld that is basically heaven. The reason Mama Greece told Herakles 'clean' versions of myths is because Greek myths tend to be kind of... adult. By that, I mean that they often involved rape, sex, the original Herakles killing his own family... Yeah, so Mama Greece edited them a bit.