The front door is open when Alfred arrives at Kiku's house, his visit to his brother finished. Not open completely, but unlocked. Alfred knows he should have knocked, really, should have rang the doorbell, but he never was one to follow such socially correct manners. And it is not as if he has any bad intentions. Feeling significantly justified in doing so, he steps in side, looking around.
"Hello?" Alfred's heart sinks a little as he hears Yao's voice, not Kiku's.
"Hey!" he greets, trying his best to appear cheerful and carefree, though he feels anything but, as Yao comes out of the kitchen.
The man's sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, a pink apron with Hello Kitty's expressionless face plastered across the front. Leave it to Kiku's brother to own such attire.
"Alfred…" he says, in more of a greeting than anything else, before getting right to the point. "You're here for Kiku, right? He's upstairs in his room…doing something or other. Any plans I should know about?"
"No, just…" his façade falters a little, but doesn't fall apart. "I just figured I'd stop in to see how he's doing…since I was in the area. Just to hang out."
"Ah, alright…" Yao smiles, waving a little, as he returns to his work. House-cleaning, maybe, from the looks of his clothing. "I'm down here if you two need anything."
" 'kay!" the blond replies, moving towards the stairs. It's a bit odd, just walking into Kiku's house, and then just walking up to his room…all without said boy. But he shrugs it off: if Yao had seen a problem with it, he would've said so. The man, above all things, is protective of his sibling.
"Kiku?" Alfred calls, as he climbs up the steps. He turns down the hallway, stopping before his friend's closed bedroom door.
"Kiku?"
Still no answer. He knocks a few times, soft enough not to startle, at first, but increasingly harder, reaching a steady pound. Silence greets his efforts.
"Kiku…I'm coming in." Alfred opens the door, heart-fluttering slightly with concern for what he might find. He thinks back to that day not too long ago, when he left the smaller boy in tears. Right before he learnt the truth from Yao.
He walks in softly, letting one foot sink into the carpeting before he starts to move the other. There's a lump in the bed, curled into the sheets. A manga volume is propped open beside the little tuft of black hair, just barely caught in the faint grip of a limp hand.
Asleep. Asleep at…4:23 PM, Alfred realizes with confusion as his gaze finds the small digital clock on the night stand. Kiku has never been one for naps, going to bed at a decent hour, and waking only hours after sunrise.
Moving closer, Alfred looks down at the sleeping boy, a warm feeling tugging the corners of his lips into a soft smile. He kneels down beside the bed, watching the calm rise and fall of the lump, swathed in blanks, despite the warm weather.
The manga's cover is familiar. Fullmetal Alchemist: Alfred has a few copies of his own at home, though, his are in English, of course. He remembers first learning of Kiku's bilingualism. Alfred had been amazed, going on and on about how cool it was, and if this meant that Kiku had some cool Japanese-only stuff, like those new Japanese videogames, and if so, could he come over and play with them sometime?
The older boy had smiled softly, an embarrassed flush crossing his cheeks, as he nodded shyly. A yes. To what, to all of his questions? In acknowledgement of something, but what exactly? Kiku never was an easy one to read, and Alfred had never been gifted in that department.
Sighing to himself—with remorse, with loss, with content?—he slips the volume out from the boy's hand, placing his thumb where Kiku's had been between the pages, as he looks for something to mark it with. A little stack of post-its on the desk catch his eye, and he snags one, inserting it, before placing the book on the nightstand.
Crisis averted—he knows how much Kiku dislikes creasing the pages of his books, accidentally or otherwise—Alfred makes his way over to the computer, sitting down in front of it.
For a long time he just stares at the machine, as if willing it to fix itself and solve this whole fiasco. But there is no magical whir of repair, no indication of this taking place. It just sits there, motionless. As any inanimate object should be, really.
What is he going to do about this? Even with his extensive knowledge of the physical aspects of computers, even with Kiku's expertise at programming, the pair of them has no solution. He tries to think of someone else who might be able to help. Anyone else. But Kiku and Alfred are the techies of their group of friends. If they can't fix it, no one else will be able to.
A stirring from behind him catches his attention, and he turns around to see that Kiku is moving in his sleep, pushing against the blanket cocoon with the faintness of someone whose mind is off elsewhere. His face pops out of the blankets, gently nuzzling into the pillow, as his body finishes shifting and once again falls still.
Alfred watches, waiting to see if the boy will move again, if he'll wake up. When he shows no sign of doing so, the blond inches a little closer, curiosity getting the best of him.
Kiku's eyes are closed softly, no expression or crease in his features to indicate a bad dream. The skin around them is puffy, though. From tears? It has been days since he last saw the boy: surely he has not cried again since? But the evidence is all there.
Sighing—in slight frustration, this time, in sympathy—Alfred gently brushes a few strands of hair away from his friend's face. His eyelids twitch a little, but remain shut. He looks so cute like this. So young…so vulnerable. It's hard to believe that he's older than the blond.
"I'll fix this," Alfred promises—to himself, to Kiku—letting the dark hair fall through his fingers as he pulls away. "I hate seeing this hurt you…I hate seeing you hurt. I'll fix this…"
Kiku shifts the slightest bit, still asleep. Unaware, most likely, that his friend is even here. Alfred has never taken the other boy for a heavy sleeper, but he supposes these are not normal circumstances.
With renewed determination, Alfred gets to his feet, exiting the room as carefully as he came. He doesn't bother to disturb Yao from his work again, simply walking out the front door and closing it quietly behind him.
He has his mission, his goal, his duty. And, as the hero, he will achieve it. Without doubt, he will.
I am so sorry, everyone! To make you guys all wait like this, after saying I would update faster if I got more reviews...and I did. Your reviews from last chapter made me really happy. I've just been busy with the start of school and college applications and everything, and I lost where I wanted to go with this story, and just didn't feel like writing. I'm very sorry ^^'
And this is a bit of a filler chapter, to boot. I think I have a path in mind now, though, so writing will be easier. However, I'm also trying to start up work again on From Child to Hero. We'll see how things work out.