Author's Notes: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! No matter which holiday you celebrate, here's to you! Cheers!
Chapter 14
Soubi's office had been redecorated since the last time Ritsuka had visited it. Where before it had been drab and dated, everything now looked sophisticated and modern, and almost exactly like Seimei's apartment. One part creepy and three parts upsetting, Ritsuka had decided immediately. He considered whether Soubi had matched it on purpose, but then realized Kio wouldn't have let that jet fly with a smile on his face, and he had largely been the one in charge of the decor.
Ritsuka's swollen, watering eyes stared into the teacup that had been placed in front of him on the glossed desk, not actually seeing the cooling chocolate swirled with melting marshmallows inside. Soubi's mug had been filled with a strong vanilla bean coffee Ritsuka could smell in discreet puffs every time the curling steam moved in his direction. Soubi sipped delicately at it from his place across the desk from Ritsuka. Neither of them had spoken. A swirl-patterned chrome clock ticked away the minutes in its glass dome on the shelf to Ritsuka's right, its steady ticking oddly pacifying.
It was almost hypnotic, really, and Ritsuka had lapsed into a meditative state when Soubi reached across the desk and nudged up Ritsuka's chin with his pale, artistic fingers. He waited until Ritsuka met his gaze, hesitant and ashamed.
"This is not your fault." The words had been spoken sincerely, and so softly that Ritsuka paused to take in the meaning and be sure Soubi had truly spoken at all.
A stray tear slid down Ritsuka's cheek. Soubi wiped it away and pulled back.
"Of course, I had hoped you would heed my warning, and if not mine, then that of your friends. But I know, maybe better than anyone here, that you can't tell a heart to feel differently. That comes with practice."
Ritsuka didn't think any amount of practice could arm anyone with the weapon of a switch on their feelings, which could be shut off at will. Right now, though, it sounded nice.
"That man is a menace. Most reliable client, but that's beside the point. I hope now you can see Kio and I have been guiding you with the best intentions. I wish you could have been spared this little-" He frowned, consulting his teacup. "Disappointment. As it is, it's only uphill from here. That I can promise you. Take comfort in the knowledge that you now have the experience to harden yourself against the charms of predators like that."
In Ritsuka's opinion, Soubi was a sort of predator himself, and Ritsuka had fallen for his charms before. That's the whole reason was even sitting in this office in the first place; otherwise, he never would be feeling this right now. He never would have known Seimei at all.
The concept was surprisingly easy to swallow, and Ritsuka realized that even in the far reaching places inside himself, in the dark empty corners of his mind, there wasn't even a cobweb of a wish that he'd chosen differently. He was glad for all of it. For the roof over his head, for the money curled thick as a python in a sock inside his pillowcase, for Kio fussing around him like a mother hen, for his new friendship with Kano (and maybe those other two; he was still far too angry to be sure), and even for every precious moment spent with Seimei. He wouldn't take it back, wouldn't trade it, and wouldn't be sorry for it. No matter how badly it hurt right now.
He looked up at Soubi. He had taken hold of his mug, which looked small in his hand, and was swirling the contents with the tip of his index finger.
"He's a predator," Ritsuka said, softly. "And you can turn off your feelings, but you love him. You still love him."
Soubi put his fingertip into his mouth, sucked off the coffee, and then set the cup back down. He stood and crossed the room, pausing at bookcase. He pulled from it a handsome leather-bound album, which had been stuffed in the center with a few full envelopes. He selected one of the smaller ones and handed it to Ritsuka, then went back to the shelf. He waited there silently, the album lying open and face up.
Ritsuka opened up the envelope, cream-colored with blue trim, and read the short note:
Soubi—
Meet me outside. I'm waiting.
It was so simple and yet so powerful. Maybe it was the dark, careful writing. Maybe the briefness of the message helped it pack a more powerful punch, but it felt rich with dark intentions.
"I have an obsession." Soubi's tone was flooded with resignation. "As to your assertion, I can't give you an answer. Can you love someone you never truly knew? That is, if you were in love with someone wearing a mask, but you did not know it was a mask, were you ever in love at all? If so, were you ever really in love with the person, or with the mask? Is it possible to love a mask?"
Ritsuka didn't know. He couldn't give a firm answer to any of those questions. A small, fierce part of himself said it didn't matter. Soubi may have only known a mask when he was with Seimei, but Seimei showed Ritsuka the truth during their times together. How could such kindness be false? How could the concern, the warmth, be faked? There was something in Seimei's eyes that shone with sincerity – it poured out his benevolence like rainwater. It flared with a bright passion during their nights together, and even if money did change hands afterwards, it didn't put out that fire.
"Ritsuka," Soubi sighed, sitting himself once again at his desk chair. "I don't tell you all of this to make you hurt more, and I don't tell it to you lightly. Not many people in this house know the full extent of what I went through, what you are going through now. Not many people know the evil Seimei Aoyagi is capable of. Now you are one of those few. Let your heart hurt, let it break, then put it away. Don't waste one more second of time on a man who won't give that time to you."
Then Ritsuka found his voice.
"No." He raised his eyes to meet Soubi's gaze. "You can turn off your feelings all you want – you can smother them or throw them away or burn them – but I won't. You can't convince me that Seimei is evil. Seimei will convince me, if that's what he really is. But even more than that, you can't convince me to not feel this, Soubi. I want to feel this. So what if it hurts? So what if my heart is breaking? Can't you see how precious that is? How many people really have the power to break your heart?"
Ritsuka's words grew softer as he spoke. He placed his mug of hot chocolate firmly on the desk, almost managing to splash it all over Soubi's business records. He stood up, filled with the courage of his conviction.
"And in case you don't know how precious it is, go ask Kio. Go ask him if it's worth it: pining after you day after day, watching you sleep with any halfway decent boy in sight, taking whatever little bits of you you'll deign to give him. Do you think he takes the easy way out? Do you think he shuts off his feelings? No. He doesn't. He thinks you're worth the pain, and he feels it every day, and you don't even know, do you? You have no idea."
Ritsuka realized he might be saying things that weren't his to say, but the words had just jumped out, and there was no taking them back now. Soubi was looking at everything in the room but Ritsuka, eyes darting back and forth across his desk, eyebrows drawn together ever so slightly.
"You think you know everything, Soubi. But you're as ignorant as the rest of us, and as vulnerable. You know nothing."
With that, he left Soubi's office, shutting the door with a soft click on his way out.
Soubi hadn't told Ritsuka he could take off the rest of the night, but neither had he told him that he couldn't. Factoring in how unstable he felt in addition to the biting weather, he took a sharp right and followed the smell of hot pastries to the kitchen. Save for Kio, it was empty. Ritsuka paused in the mouth of the entryway that separated the dining room from the kitchen. A large box of pop tarts was sitting on the counter next to one of the silver toasters. Kio had a knife laid across the top of a butter container. He was wiping crumbs from his lips. Ritsuka didn't think he'd seen Kio eat a single carb since he'd lived there and was understandably suspicious. Maybe this was how he coped with stress. Then again, the way Kio's life went, he wouldn't have such a handle on his eating habits nearly one hundred percent of the time.
"Would you like some pop tarts?" He asked when he spotted Ritsuka lurking. They were chocolate, Ritsuka's favorite besides strawberry. He nodded. "And some medicine to clear up your stuffy sinuses? God knows I always need them after a hard cry."
Ritsuka nodded again.
Kio busied himself with a beige bag residing on the countertop (something Youji had always referred to as "Kio's man purse") and pulled out two tablets of a red decongestant. He slid them over to Ritsuka, along with a chocolate pop tart and a glass of water.
Ritsuka took a seat across from him at the kitchen island and took the pills. He started in on the pop tart, liking the taste but having to force himself to chew. Food didn't taste as good as it did pre-Seimei loss.
Not 'loss', Ritsuka reminded himself sternly. Setback. Temporary setback.
"So," Kio said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"What's to talk about?"
Kio raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. "You were just having one of the biggest diva moments I've ever seen in my life, and you ask what there is to talk about?"
Ritsuka drank deeply from his cup before answering. "I'm not a diva."
Sighing, Kio stood up. "Alright. I just hope you can put all this behind you now and move on to greener pastures."
"I'm not a cow either."
"Oh, aren't you hilarious."
"Sometimes," said Ritsuka. "things feel so horrible all you can do is be humorous. Because what else can you do?" he looked up. "You know what I mean. Kio."
The last part came out delicately, and Kio's eyes softened. He didn't need to say that he understood. Ritsuka could read it there.
"I'm going back out to the street to do a patrol." Kio nodded toward the pop tarts. "Help yourself if you want more."
Ritsuka watched Kio get up and leave, then he finished his pop tart. By the last bite, simply swallowing it was a battle. Out of nowhere, flashes of what Seimei and Youji must be doing together would burst into his mind. The pictures made Ritsuka feel as though the pop tart would work its way back up.
He cleared away both their plates and washed them in a nearby sink. It was a shared chore among the House: everyone (with the exception of Soubi) took turns doing dishes in the evening, based on whose day off it was. It wasn't Ritsuka's turn this evening, but he felt that he owed the favor to Kio. Especially when he was reminded of the things he told Soubi earlier: things he was sure Kio wouldn't thank him for sharing.
With the dishes clean and dry, Ritsuka turned around to find Kano in the doorway. He was wearing a sad smile and his arms were opened wide.
Ritsuka walked into them immediately, and Kano held him in a warm embrace. Ritsuka felt he could trust Kano, and that trust led him to cry all over again. Not angry sobs or hysterical moaning cries, just tears. Kano let them fall. He didn't try to talk Ritsuka out of his feelings, or tell him platitudes, or even say anything at all. He was just there, as a friend should be.
Ritsuka cried a bit harder when he realized how easy and convenient it would be to have feelings for Kano. Kano was there for him, honest, genuine in his concern, in close proximity, he understood the sort of work Ritsuka did. He was even handsome, Ritsuka could see that. But Ritsuka felt nothing for him. Nothing you could build a relationship out of, anyway. Kano was his friend, and nothing more. And in that moment, he hated that it wasn't, longed for his feelings to redirect themselves to this person who was so kind and giving and available. He felt guilty for fueling Kano's feelings for him with their friendship, but he couldn't bring himself to let it die. Kano felt like his only friend sometimes.
"I'm sorry," Ritsuka murmured through his tears, which were building and building.
"Sorry for what, Ritsuka?" Kano asked, patting his back.
But Ritsuka couldn't answer. What was he supposed to say? I'm sorry I can't love you? Kano was probably perfect for him in some bizarre world where Seimei didn't exist. But he did exist, and even if they had never met but he still existed, Ritsuka would feel him and know that a part of himself was incomplete, and he still could not love Kano. Not ever in a way that would be enough. But it would be so easy, and Ritsuka couldn't help but feel bad for himself, because Seimei was off with Youji and not him. Not him.
And now the tears were falling so quickly there wasn't any way to tell where one started and the other began; it was just a wet, snotty stream of misery that felt like it would never end.
When the hysterics had subsided into faint hiccups, someone behind Kano cleared his throat. Ritsuka lifted his face from the junction between Kano's throat and shoulder, and through a mess of overgrown bangs and too many tears saw Kio.
Ritsuka pulled away first, and Kano glanced back at Kio, looking slightly annoyed at the intrusion.
"Mr. Tamagoiji is out front, and he's requesting you, Kano."
Kano sighed. "Mr. Tamagoiji has more porn than he knows what to do with, and insists on re-enacting each one, scene by scene. I'm going to need that anti-chafing balm when I get back, Kio. Heads up."
Kio laughed, and Ritsuka—despite fresh tears continuing to bead along his eyelashes— almost smiled.
It was well past two o'clock in the morning when Ritsuka finally made his way up to his bedroom. He hadn't felt very sleepy until then, and he had been too restless and unsettled to try to sleep. With everyone he had gotten close to in The House working that night, he had considered downing some NyQuil, having a hot bath and settling in for an early night's sleep. But on his way past the dining hall, he'd heard a few of the boys he didn't know very well making plans for a stay-in movie night. Ritsuka, very much wanting a distraction, asked if he could join them.
"Sure," said one, with a brazen smile. He looked to be about twenty-one or so, and his hair was kool-aid blue. "You're Kano's boy."
Ritsuka told them that he and Kano were just friends, but they didn't look like they believed him. It turned out two of them (including blue-hair) were Kano's roommates, and they'd heard more than their fair share about Ritsuka from him. Ritsuka was glad to know they were so easy-going, and gladder still that they obviously hadn't yet heard about his meltdown earlier or simply didn't care.
He had helped them prepare snacks, mixing Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola into a large jug and pouring a thermos of non-alcoholic hot chocolate for himself. The snacks were a variety of chips, leftover takeout pizza, popcorn, and peanut butter M&Ms. Ritsuka gorged until he was fit to burst, numbing himself on preservatives and the explosive sounds of bad action movies.
The other boys had put in their third movie when Ritsuka decided he'd had enough. Nothing sounded better than slipping into bed and remaining unconscious clear into the next afternoon.
When he pardoned himself for bed, he received a lot of jibes that Kano probably wasn't even home yet and questions about who he was cheating with. Ritsuka had liked them all okay up until that point, then he could see why Kano didn't make it a habit to spend time with any of them. It was pretty annoying even if it was supposed to be all in good fun. Ritsuka didn't see anything funny about cheating, and he didn't want to laugh back and give anyone the impression that he and Kano actually were a thing.
Least of all Kano, Ritsuka thought as he trudged up the stairs. He was beginning to wonder if he was leading Kano on, unwittingly. Hopefully he had been clear enough in his refusal of Kano's advances.
Ritsuka's thoughts continued in this vein, worriedly, until he heard familiar voices issuing from his shared bedroom. One he clearly recognized as Kio. The other, Youji.
"He did what?"
A sigh. "You heard me. It was weird. So fucking weird. And a total bore."
"You realize no one can tell Ritsuka about this, right? Not a word."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Gotta shut down his little crush, blah blah blah. Seriously, that kid is more stubborn than a mule. I really don't see how withholding this is even going to help at this point."
Kio's tone became remarkably sharper. "Just because you can't douse the fire doesn't mean you should fan the flames. Youji, I'm pretty certain you haven't obeyed a word anyone has said from the moment you were born, so I'm not even going to ask you. I am straight up begging you. If you care for Ritsuka at all, you won't breathe a word of this to him. Not one hint of a hint of a word."
Without any forethought, Ritsuka burst into the room. "A word about what?"
His gaze sought and found Youji. He was standing by the window with his arms crossed, wearing nothing but a pair of black micro shorts, steel studs lining the hems. He looked thoroughly unsurprised by Ritsuka's sudden appearance, and deeply annoyed with the conversation at hand. Kio had a towel around his head, turbine-like, and a terrycloth robe open over pinstriped pajamas. He seemed to have paused in the middle of shining his nails with a nail buff. Natsuo was in bed, facing the wall.
"A word about what?" Ritsuka said again, when no answer came.
Youji's eyes cut accusingly to Kio's. "Well? Since I can't tell him the truth, what can I tell him?"
Kio huffed angrily. "Ritsuka, hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?"
"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to gossip about people behind their backs?" Ritsuka shot back. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to keep secrets from your supposed friends?"
"Friends keep each other safe! They protect each other!" Kio said, forcefully. "Even if that means keeping certain things from them sometimes."
"Well, don't I just have the best friends in the whole world?" said Ritsuka, positively spitting fire at this point.
"Kio does just have your best interests at heart," Youji interjected, sounding uncharacteristically mild. "We all do."
A tower of shock was quickly knocked down by an unnatural wave of renewed vehemence. Youji was actually going to hold his tongue on behalf of Kio?
""Fine!" Ritsuka spat, positively trembling with anger. "Fine!"
He tore one of his pillows and a blanket off his bed and began marching back to the door. "I can't stand to be near any of you right now!"
Kio scrambled to his feet, looking alarmed. "Where are you going?"
"Does it matter?" Came Natsuo's unexpected voice. He didn't turn to face any of them, but that didn't matter. The poison was still dripping from every word. "Since Seimei is satiated for the evening, we know it won't be there."
Ritsuka wasn't sure if the tears smarted his eyes before or after he slammed the door so hard he heard a few fancy toiletry bottles from Kio's side table crash to the floor.
He just couldn't believe they were keeping something from him. It was the same thing as a lie. Withholding information was as good as a lie, and Ritsuka didn't believe in it. It wasn't up to any of them to decide what he could handle and what he couldn't. None of them were his parents, who didn't have any kind of legal hold over him anymore anyway. It was an outrage.
Ritsuka shoved open the door he had stalked to without bothering to knock. The blue kool-aid haired boy was wrong; Kano was home. He was already in bed too, but he seemed as alert as he ever had. He was sitting in his bed in his nightshirt and plaid cotton pants, surprise marring his face.
"Ritsuka?"
"Something happened tonight," Ritsuka said, and slammed the door closed.
Kano put aside the magazine he had been leafing through and caught the pillow that Ritsuka threw up to him. "And I need you to find out what."
Arranging the pillow next to his side, Kano shrugged. "I can do that. What am I investigating?"
"A moral outrage," said Ritsuka bitterly. He threw himself against the space that Kano had made for him.
"That sounds pretty intense," Kano said.
"It is. Kio and Youji and Natsuo — those bastards who call themselves my friends — are keeping something from me. And I think it's something about Seimei!"
"Hmmm…." Kano studied Ritsuka's face with an uncomfortable level of thoughtfulness. "Seimei took Youji tonight, right?"
Ritsuka muttered to himself before answering with a curt and cutting, "yes."
"So you're thinking something happened while he was with him and that's the something that they don't want you to know about?"
"Yes, those….those…." Ritsuka cut himself off and made a noise of clear frustration. "Those bastards are keeping stuff from me. Stuff they KNOW is relevant to me!"
Kano ignored Ritsuka's obvious emotionalism. "So, we can safely assume that all three of them know whatever this is? Or just Youji, since he's the one Seimei took tonight?"
Ritsuka rehashed the fragment of conversation he'd overheard between the three slimy traitors all the way up to Natsuo's cutting remark. Kano was quiet when he'd finished, clearly analyzing.
"That's... okay, I'm not really sure what happened, but you're right that something definitely did. Give me three days. I'll have information by Tuesday morning."
Satiated by this, Ritsuka relaxed against his pillow and breathed a sigh of thanks.
"So I take it you're crashing here tonight?"
"Is that okay?" Ritsuka mentally berated himself. He had just been worrying about whether he had been clear enough that he didn't feel romantically attracted to Kano, and now here he was, sprawled out in his bed like the common hooker he was. He had to fight to keep the blush from seeping up into his face from his neck. "I can sleep on the floor if you'd like. I just don't want to be in that room with them."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Kano. "Of course it's okay, and you don't have to sleep on the floor. But let me get you one of my shirts to sleep in."
Sleeping in Kano's clothes didn't sound like something a typical friend would do. Admittedly, Ritsuka was pretty behind on what constituted normal friendship behavior, but this seemed a little too intimate to him. "You really don't have to do that."
Kano paused. He had turned onto his hands and knees and had swung one leg over Ritsuka's hips, in the process of overstepping him to get to the bunk's ladder. One of his hands was on the bed next to the pillow, supporting his weight above Ritsuka like a bridge.
"Ritsuka," he said, as serious as Ritsuka had ever heard him. "You in my bed is something I can handle. You in my bed wearing that is something I cannot."
Now the blush that he had been so forcibly holding back exploded across his face like someone had stomped on a ketchup packet. "I—" was all he managed at first. "It's just an outfit."
Kano's eyes swept slowly over him, starting from his thigh-high socks and lingering briefly on the naked strip of skin showing between the hem of those and the bottom of his booty shorts. When his gaze met Ritsuka's again, the brownish-amber color looked darker. "If you want me to take advantage of you, then by all means please don't bother changing. I won't complain."
Ritsuka pushed Kano away, sitting up and pulling the nearest blanket up and over himself. "Kano…" he began. He didn't know what else he was going to say, and his tone was a warning mixed with resolution.
"I know, I know," Kano said casually, when Ritsuka didn't answer. "Hands off, you're not interested in me like that, yada yada yada."
He rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom. Looking at Ritsuka over his shoulder, Kano flashed him a smile. "Could just be a matter of time, though." Then he slipped inside, and the door shut behind him.
Privately, Ritsuka knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't just a matter of time, and never would be. It was a matter of Seimei.
Slightly annoyed with himself, Ritsuka turned down the blanket and pulled off his socks. He hoped Kano had the foresight—and the decency—to bring a pair of sleeping pants in too. He had a feeling Kano's shirt wouldn't be long enough to cover much of his legs even if it would cover most of his thighs.
He sat up and draped the blanket around his lap. The magazine Kano had been looking through caught his attention. Mostly because Kano was on the front cover with two other boys. He didn't look all that younger in this picture, but there was definitely more of a softness in his cheeks back then. Ritsuka picked it up and began leafing through the pages. It was some kind of high-end fashion edition, and the strange thing was that Ritsuka could remember browsing a copy on the subway train a couple years ago. If he could go back and tell himself what he'd be up to in a few years with this kid, he'd have been terrified. As it was, things actually weren't all that horrible. They could definitely be worse.
But that made him wonder about Kano. Obviously he still had some hang ups about his past and probably about his future. Otherwise, why would he feel the need to reminisce over something like this? These weren't the typical memorable snapshots that Ritsuka himself valued. They were just pictures in a studio taken with a few other boys he probably didn't know all that well. Maybe. He had to admit that he and Kano didn't know much about each other's lives before the whole Soubi employment situation brought them under the same roof.
If Kano was feeling comfortable about it, maybe he would tell Ritsuka about the magazine when he came back. God knew he could do with something to take his mind of Seimei and that malicious spider, Youji.
He set the magazine aside and looked around the bed curiously. There were two thin shelves mounted on the wall a few inches above the mattress, which looked to serve better as a small table than an actual shelf. Kano had a small cup of water, a bottle of advil and a sleeping mask on the top shelf. On the bottom shelf was a deck of cards, a tube of lotion, a silver bracelet, and the lacquered box Ritsuka had bought him.
Ritsuka smiled, pleased that Kano had liked it and curious if he had found a use for it besides ornamental purposes. He picked up the box and undid the sturdy latch, not expecting him to actually have filled it yet.
He was wrong. What looked like a substance similar to dried oregano filled the box to the brim. The smell was robust, but Ritsuka couldn't place it, and it didn't smell like any kind of herb he'd encountered before. Like a serpent moving in for the kill, Ritsuka felt dread and suspicion slither through his stomach.
Kano returned from the bathroom at that moment. He was holding a plaid, flannel nightshirt and matching bottoms. "Ritsuka, this will probably be too big for you, but pajamas should be a little baggy, right?"
If Kano took any notice of Ritsuka staring open-mouthed at the box, he didn't give any indication of it. He held out the shirt and pants politely.
"Kano, what is this?" demanded Ritsuka, ignoring the pajamas entirely.
"Marijauna. Also known as pot. What does it look like?" Kano asked. The pajamas in his grasp fell to his side limply.
"You're doing drugs?"
"It's marijuana, not heroin. It's not going to kill me. It's not even addictive."
Ritsuka couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't know what kind of reaction he had been expecting from Kano, but it certainly wasn't this blasé, devil-may-care attitude.
"Is that some kind of excuse? Murder isn't addictive either; that doesn't mean you should do it!"
Kano sighed. "You're freaking out. I get it. Just take a few cleansing breaths and listen to me. Yeah, I do pot sometimes. I'm being honest about it and now you know. It's not controlling my life, nobody else knows but you and my dealer, and I get through my life with a little less shittiness. That's all it is."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Ritsuka threw himself out of bed and snapped the box shut, brandishing it at Kano fiercely. "This shit? Shit like this will kill you, Kano."
"Kill me?" scoffed Kano. "It's pot, Ritsuka."
"It's stopping you from dealing with what's really the matter in your life. It's pouring some stupid high over your brain. The only reason you'd want that is if something is seriously messed up with you. I knew you didn't handle all of this so smoothly. I knew it. And I'm getting rid of the illegal Band-Aid you're putting on the problem."
With that, Ritsuka marched into the bathroom, fully prepared to dump the entire contents of the box down the toilet and flush them all away.
Kano scrambled after him, taking hold of Ritsuka's wrist. "Wait!" he shouted.
Ritsuka didn't answer beyond shooting him an exasperated, demanding stare.
Not one to miss opportunities, Kano spoke rapidly. "It's plain that you're upset by this. I'm taking that seriously. No, really, I am," he said at Ritsuka's eye roll. "But you can't just flush all of that. It cost a lot of money."
Ritsuka's eyes became even narrower. "You should have thought about that before you dished it out. Either way, you blew that money and now you have to deal with your stupid mistake." He wrenched his arm from Kano's grip and opened the toilet lid.
Kano caught him from behind, crossing his arms across Ritsuka's chest to restrain him like a living straight jacket.
Ritsuka's voice became even more outraged. "Let go of me!"
"Ritsuka, you have to calm down. If you do that, it will hurt me, do you see what I'm saying?"
Ritsuka paused. He stopped squirming in Kano's hold but he did not set down the box either.
Kano sighed. "Ritsuka, I spent a lot of money on that weed. I know you don't like that, but it's a fact. I can either sell it and get part of the money back, or I can dump it all now and be out of... well, let's just say, a lot of cash."
Ritsuka shook his head and almost sneered. "You want to become a drug dealer now too?"
"That's not it," Kano said, with maddening calm. Ritsuka wondered darkly if he was stoned that very moment. "It's just that I work hard for the money that I earn, and the larger savings I can acquire, the sooner I can make a career change. Considering my current living circumstances, it would be foolish to trash something I can easily get refunded. Now, if I promise that I'll get rid of all of it within a week, will you promise not to dispose of it?"
Reluctantly, the story of how Kano had given all his savings to another boy in order to spare him this unseemly life surfaced in Ritsuka's mind. With a sharp swear, Ritsuka nodded, and Kano released him.
"One week." Ritsuka shoved the box back at Kano unceremoniously. "And not a day over that, or there's going to be some pretty high fish in the ocean."
In response, Kano swore beneath his breath, but he was smiling.
"What?" Ritsuka demanded, still fired-up.
"It's just that..." Kano shook his head. "My God, everything about you makes me want you."
"Stop saying things like that!"
"No." He was still smiling. "No, I'm sorry, I can't."
"You make me feel like such an evil person." Ritsuka said morosely.
Kano blinked. "Why would you say a thing like that?"
"Because," replied Ritsuka, in a tone that meant he didn't want to clarify.
"Because why?"
"Because!" exploded Ritsuka, back to frustrated fury all over again. "Because you like me in a way that I don't like you, and I keep hanging around you, making things worse for you, with no intention or hope or chance of ever feeling that way back. How is that not a horrible thing to do to someone?"
"Ritsuka…" Kano said patiently. "You can't help how you feel for someone. Or how you don't feel for them."
Ritsuka scoffed, looking at the ground. He knew what Kano was talking about and he wished it weren't true. Earlier, when another bout of dejection shot through him at the thought of Youji and Seimei together while he sat pathetically on an armchair watching stupid movies, he had wished savagely that he DID have feelings for Kano. How much easier it would be. Right now he could be curled up in warm arms, dozing contentedly. Instead he wanted to scream at everyone because everything felt so horribly wrong.
"Don't feel guilty," Kano told him. "You've been perfectly clear how you feel, and I don't hold any delusions about it. But I like feeling this way. I like liking you. And I have hope that one day-"
"There's no hope," Ritsuka muttered.
Kano stared at him, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have hope that one day Seimei Aoyagi will have feelings for you. So you'll understand that I have hope that one day you'll have them for me. If I'm wrong, then I am, but don't think you'd be doing me any favors staying away from me."
Ritsuka sighed. Then he smiled wryly. "Well, you're good at taking the guilt at least a little bit away. Thanks."
Kano beamed. "Don't mention it. Now, it's pretty late. I'm thinking we both need some sleep."
Ritsuka looked dubiously out the bathroom doorway, at the single bed they would be sharing.
"Sleep, Ritsuka. Nothing more."
Ritsuka nodded. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kano to keep to his word, or that he didn't believe in Kano's reassurances. It was the thought of Seimei, who was likely sleeping in his own bed right now, exhausted from his night with Youji. Would Seimei be so worn out by Youji's energy and enthusiasm for it that he'd be too exhausted to do anything else? Would Seimei dream of Youji? Did Seimei ever dream of anyone else? All of these thoughts swirled in Ritsuka's brain into they made a disgusting, lumpy bowl of jealousy and sadness.
"C'mon, then," Kano said, and together they returned to the room, box in Kano's hands and the borrowed cover-up shirt in Ritsuka's.
There wasn't any improvement in Ritsuka's mood over the next few days. Seimei hadn't shown up since, and Kio and the traitors still wouldn't tell Ritsuka anything. He was so infuriated with them that he refused to stay in a room if any one of them wandered in, and come Thursday night, when Ritsuka was due for another of Kio's mani/pedi miracles, he refused point blank to cooperate.
"Really, Ritsuka, you're acting like a child," Kio snapped at him. He had cornered Ritsuka near the spa bathroom, terrycloth robe in hand. "Put this on this instant!"
"No. I won't," Ritsuka shot back. He stood ridged and defensive against the wall, bristled like an angry cat. "Why shouldn't I act like a child? You treat me like one!"
Kio sighed angrily. "I treat you like a friend, you…" he cut himself off, seemingly too infuriated to speak further and rubbed at his sinuses.
"Friends don't keep secrets!"
"They do when it means protecting each other!" Kio's voice was raised to the loudest Ritsuka had ever heard it. Then, it abruptly quieted. "Forget it. You don't want me to do your nails, fine. But part of your employment here includes good grooming, so you're going to have to get them done by someone. Kano can do it. He's not as good as me, of course, but…"
Ritsuka nodded without saying a word.
Kio dropped the robe on the floor at Ritsuka's feet. "Be angry with me if you want to, but it won't change my mind. Nothing will. I'm doing this for your own good and I will never apologize for that."
He turned around and left.
Fuming, Ritsuka snatched the robe off the carpet and snapped it hard against the adjacent wall. He didn't understand what could have possibly gone on between Youji and Seimei that was such a huge secret, and some inner terror was beginning to rise up inside of him that what if something had happened to Seimei? What if he had been hurt or even killed? The thought petrified him.
Sensing that Kio was probably going to send Kano straight up here to deal with him, he set off into the spa bathroom and took up in one of the showers, using the fruity smelling scrubs, soaps, and shampoos he was becoming accustomed to. He even poured a dollop of the translucent pink gel lotion onto his towel, exactly how Kio always prepared it for him. The stuff truly was amazing, like magic almost, and he wasn't about to give it up on the off chance that maybe Seimei was okay and maybe he would want Ritsuka again.
By the time he slipped into the robe and returned to the common area of the bathroom, Kano was seated at one of the nail tables, texting on his cell phone. He looked up and didn't even attempt to cover the appreciative once-over he gave Ritsuka.
"Um, Kio's appointed me your salon girl until further notice," he said, sounding a little confused. "Actually, he said until such time that you remember you're neither thirteen nor a girl and begin acting acceptable to society. He was pretty huffy, even by Kio standards."
"Yeah, well…" Ritsuka sat in the chair opposite of Kano and put his feet up on the rest pad. "So did you find out anything?"
Kano set his phone aside, reached for a nail file and set to work. "Actually, I did. I found out what is supposedly the entire story."
Ritsuka sat up very straight, but Kano grabbed up his foot, knocking him against the backrest again.
"And?" he asked. "Kano, tell me!"
Kano was very focused on Ritsuka's nails, his mouth a thin line. "I don't know. I heard the story but i don't know that I believe it."
"Why not?"
Another long pause, and Ritsuka found himself growing steadily more impatient.
"Just give me a little longer, okay?" Kano finally said. "I don't want to tell you anything prematurely."
Ritsuka narrowed his eyes. Something in Kano's tone made him even more suspicious and nervous about the outcome of his investigation. Ritsuka had been staying in Kano's room for the past two nights, but this was his first opportunity to really talk to him. Kano had been working until the wee hours of the morning every night. When he came back to the House, he simply collapsed into bed and was asleep within seconds.
Kano caught sight of his expression. "Don't look at me like that. I'm telling you the truth. I'd rather withhold information until I can be sure of its truthfulness, then give you false impressions."
Kano had been a good friend to him (his only friend at this point, really), Ritsuka reflected. He hadn't given him any reason not to trust him yet. So perhaps Ritsuka should give him the benefit of the doubt in this instance.
"Fine." Ritsuka relented. "Just as long as you DO tell me when you've found out."
Kano nodded, carefully shaping Ritsuka's nails into squares with rounded corners. "I told you I would, didn't I?"
A little taken aback by Kano's tone, Ritsuka said nothing. It wasn't that Kano had spoken sharply, but there had been an undertone of something final in the words that undermined his usual warm demeanor. Possibly he was a bit stung by Ritsuka's need for assurance when he had more than proven his trustworthiness. The lacquered box was still full of marijuana, but none of it had disappeared since Kano had promised to discard it, which meant he hadn't used any. If he had kept a promise about something like that, surely there was no need to question him.
As the sun began to fade behind the high, half moon-shaped windows of the bathroom salon and the glare of surrounding neon lights reflected hot pinks, acid greens, and bright golds against the ceiling, the silence had become so loud that he had began to fidget in his chair.
"Stop moving." Kano's voice was again clipped and completely un-Kano.
"I can't help it. Something is really bothering you, but you don't look like you'd be very happy to have that pointed out to you."
Ritsuka felt Kano pause. At this point he was standing behind Ritsuka with his hands buried deep in the glossy strands, working smoothing gel into place. "You're right." He swiveled Ritsuka's chair around to face him, then sat on the ledge of the vanity table. "You're going to despise me for this, but I guess it's better to just out with it." Sighing and rubbing his forehead, he continued. "Seimei reserved my services for Saturday night."
Ritsuka stared at him, giving away nothing at all as Kano looked back up, evidently checking on the status of his sanity. When he was met without an outburst, he said, "In a way this is a good thing. I can either rebuff or confirm the information that is being kept from you."
Turning his head aside, Ritsuka looked wordlessly up at the windows. It took a few beats for the entire sentiment of that to set in, and when it did, tears welled forth like melting snow. And the worst part of all was that there was no anger in them this time.
Kano didn't keep his word. It was all very horrible, in a way Ritsuka could only think about for a few minutes at a time before wanting to cry buckets all over again.
That Saturday night, Ritsuka had been selected by a client who was a stranger to him. The man was utterly unremarkable in every way, and Ritsuka had forgotten his name within five minutes of the introductions being made. Ritsuka had performed his services with more dispassion than he'd ever been able to muster before. Part of him was worried by how he really was beginning to remove sex from his emotions, and part of him was glad that he was finally learning how. Ritsuka felt torn when he thought about it.
The client didn't seem torn at all by Ritsuka's performance, however. He lavished him with compliments and praise when they were done, and even inquired whether he could "collect" Ritsuka again at the House. Ritsuka had shrugged, no longer caring who collected him if they weren't Seimei.
When he came back to the House that night, he had found Kano already back as well, walking up and down the street as if waiting for another client to appear. When he spotted Ritsuka, he stopped. He looked like he was ready to bolt in the opposite direction but somehow managed to stand his ground.
"Don't ask me any questions," he said abruptly. Not coldly; not exactly, but his eyes were like ice. "I can't. I can't answer them. Any of them. So don't try. I don't like telling you no, but I have to."
"What the hell?" Ritsuka said. "Did you even go with him?"
"I said don't." Kano looked as angry as Ritsuka had ever remembered seeing him. It wasn't true anger though. Really, it was frustration, tempered with something else. Kano looked rattled. "Ritsuka, I've come to care about you more than I ever thought I would. I wouldn't do this to you if I didn't believe it was for the best."
With mounting frustration and impatience, Ritsuka felt that all too familiar sting in his eyes. "I can't believe you, Kano! I trusted you!"
"I'm doing this for you!" Kano shouted to Ritsuka's retreating back. "Ritsuka, please!"
Ritsuka threw up a hand in disgust and dismissal, not knowing or caring how many of the boys were watching, and whether Kio, Natsuo, and Youji was watching this exchange or if any of them felt vindicated. He walked right through the House doors without hesitation.
The nerve of Kano! Repeatedly told Ritsuka he would investigate and tell him the truth about what was going on…and now this! The backstabbing hussy….did Ritsuka have not a single friend in the world? Was he constantly going to be betrayed? Maybe it was better to feel nothing at all. Ritsuka would rather be numb than suffer the slings and arrows of unrequited love and unfaithful friends.
But no, that wasn't actually true. Ritsuka would rather feel the hurt. Seimei was worth it. Even if he didn't feel the same way back.
In his haste to reach the stairs, Ritsuka barely registered that one of the lower level bedrooms was ajar. He passed it by without another thought, but his presence did not go by so casually to Soubi, who had been lurking inside. Ritsuka heard him clear his throat from within and started.
"Ritsuka," came Soubi's voice. "I believe it's your night with me. Do come in."
Ritsuka stepped into the doorway, glaring. "Yeah? If it's my night with you, then tell me why I was sent into the street to service someone who by now I can't even remember the color of his eyes. Soubi."
Turning back from closing the curtains, Soubi adjusted the wire frames on his nose, as if to better see Ritsuka's angry form.
"Well?" Ritsuka snapped. "Don't have an answer, do you? No one ever has any answers around here. You're all just a bunch of old gargoyles who see and know everything that goes on but never say anything about it!"
Soubi's cool expression didn't waver, but there was definitely a satisfyingly evident amount of surprise in his violet eyes. "You're in quite a temper tonight."
"I'm perfectly within my rights to be in a temper! Word around here is it makes for a pretty wild sex ride, so you should be pleased."
"Why don't you come on inside and close the door? You're likely to attract attention standing in the doorway raving like an angry little gorilla."
Ritsuka stepped in and slammed the door closed, knocking several books off a shelf.
"Afraid your boyfriend might see how hungry you are for baby gorilla tonight and foil the hunt?"
Soubi had moved around to a small work desk and pulled out the chair for him, which he ignored in favor of planting himself defiantly on the edge of the bed.
"I don't have a boyfriend," Soubi said.
Ritsuka gave a resounding snort and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I don't," repeated Soubi. Distantly, Ritsuka recognized that he sounded strangely insistent.
"Yeah right. You'd have to be blind AND deaf not to know that Kio is head over heels for you and you're….you're….God, you're something with him. Why am I even having this conversation with you? Whatever. You want to lie to yourself, you go right ahead, but don't come crying to me when you finally do enough damage to him that he leaves for good."
Soubi paled, and Ritsuka took a vicious satisfaction in that fact.
"Yeah, think about that one, why don't you? Now are we fucking or what? I can't stay still this long. Or are you having too big of an epiphany about your boyfriend to get it up?"
Soubi cleared this throat and came over to the bed, looming over him. His blond hair shone in the fluorescent lighting. For once, he had no cigarette in hand. "Enough about Kio. I'm not keeping you here for conversation."
And with that, activities commenced between them. Ritsuka, for once, was glad to be getting on with it. If nothing else, sex was an excellent stress reliever, and though it went against everything in his nature, he took an uncharacteristic and savage relief from the distraction. Some insane part of him may have even welcomed it; in the end, he did not hate Soubi. He could look back and see why and how he had been so easily taken with him in the first place.
In the aftermath, he reminded himself that Seimei had been taken with Soubi at one point, too. Not loved, apparently, but taken with. Soubi had been good enough to be more than a rent boy.
"Feel better?" Soubi asked, somewhere beside him on the bed.
Ritsuka hadn't yet caught his breath. He pushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and said, "It's not like I could feel any worse."
"You'll get over it, Ritsuka. I assure you. We all do, eventually."
Ritsuka made a tch noise. "You're an idiot, Soubi."
Soubi chuckled, carding his fingers through his hair and putting it back into some semblance of order. "I'm not. But I was."
Ritsuka turned onto his side to look at him. "Are you talking about back when….?"
"Yes, back when he and I were involved." Soubi didn't need to clarify who the 'he' in that sentence was.
An unpleasant, wry grimace crossed his face. It was the same sort of expression someone might make if they were to recall tasting baker's chocolate. The chocolate carried the promise of sweetness but ended up delivering a particularly bitter punch.
"It's not something I would talk about with just anyone, Ritsuka, and I hope none of this will be passed along to gossiping mouths. I say it in the hope that you might learn from my mistakes. Love is for fools."
"You can't really believe that." Ritsuka protested. "Everyone wants love."
"Until they've actually had it. Then all they want is freedom from the chains. What you're doing… you're chaining yourself, Ritsuka. Stop it before it's too late. You'll be stuck in your prison and he….he'll still be walking about, free as a bird."
His anger spent, Ritsuka was able to consider this objectively. Soubi wasn't trying to be a bastard, he just kind of was anyway. Looking at it from the viewpoint of someone who had basically had their heart tossed into a juicer and then dumped out like dirty bathwater, however, Ritsuka found a thread of empathy weaving its way around his emotions.
"Soubi? What about your chains?"
He looked like he wanted a cigarette. Just another thing that pointed to all of Soubi's dissatisfaction: the guy couldn't even have sex without needing a dose of nicotine to top it off.
"My chains, I'm afraid, are a burden I will always carry."
Ritsuka clutched the plain petal-orange sheet tighter. "While the bird flies free, unwilling to return?"
"Perhaps the bird does not return home because the bird himself had been chained."
"Then we're all birds," said Ritsuka, kinder than he'd spoken to Soubi in weeks. "And we all deserve a chance to fly."
"A dove with a broken wing cannot fly."
"But it can still find peace. It can find rejuvenation with another who has faith enough that they can both fly." Gently, Ritsuka placed his hand over one of Soubi's. "As long as the one who is broken doesn't break the one who can mend him."
Soubi's mouth fell open but no sound came out. After a beat, it became clear that he either didn't know what to say to that or refused to verbalize his reaction.
Then the door of the bedroom burst open.
A flood of light from the House hallway poured in, and in the center was a green-haired, heavily-pierced beanpole of resignation.
"Who is it this time, you son of a bitch?" Kio sighed. He slumped against the doorjamb, eyes and mouth drooping as if the muscles there no longer had the energy to hold them up.
Soubi didn't jump out of bed, or gather the sheets hastily about himself, or stammer guiltily, or do anything else that a cheating lover might be expected to do in this situation. Perhaps it was because Soubi never DID lie to Kio about his side dishes. But somehow he managed to seem guilty all the same. "Kio…" he murmured, not meeting his eyes.
"It's me, Kio," Ritsuka finally said. For whatever reason, he had decided to take pity on Soubi. God knew he didn't deserve it.
"I should have known," Kio drawled. "Is this your form of revenge?"
"Revenge?" Ritsuka sat up and reached for his pathetic excuse for underwear, which were thankfully boy-shorts and not a thong, even if they allowed far too much room for the curves of his bottom to show out the back. "I'm a prostitute, not a slut. Even if I was a vengeful person, I wouldn't do it this way."
Kio rubbed at his face. "I know."
After wriggling into his underwear, Ritsuka slid out of the bed, thinking if he were in Kio's position, he'd want the "other boy" to put as much distance between himself and the bed as possible.
He looked at Soubi, who had sat up in bed with the sheets around his waist, but hadn't made a move to get up. He was watching Kio with something suspiciously close to regret. The barbed orders he had been about to deliver died in Ritsuka's throat. He couldn't very well rub Soubi's nose in the mess he had made when Ritsuka himself was hung-up over the same exact person as him; Soubi actually having more right than Ritsuka to be so torn up about it. He bit back any sort of comment as he pulled his wine-red shirt over his head. It was long sleeved today, but form fitting with bare skin showing through three stylish slits up each side. Even so, he felt at a more considerable advantage with it on.
"Was it worth it?" he asked Soubi, soft and understanding.
When Soubi met his gaze, there was so much there that Ritsuka felt dizzy with the weight of it. I don't know, his confused eyes said. And Ritsuka could sense the longing in them. Perhaps it had been how Soubi had charmed him so easily — those eyes that held all force of unrequited love and ran through memories of Seimei for all the resemblance Ritsuka had to him. It was wrong, and yet Ritsuka understood. I don't know, Soubi's gaze was still saying, because he hadn't given up on Seimei either, and even Kio hadn't changed that.
Poor Kio, so wretchedly in love with someone unable (or unwilling) to move on from someone else. Ritsuka wondered if they were all just meant to be unhappy. He and Soubi and Ritsuka….even Kano. Kano might be honest about "liking" Ritsuka, but Ritsuka knew he wasn't in love with him. And some part of Ritsuka honestly thought Kano was hung up on somebody too — that lawyer friend of Seimei's. Ritsu. And maybe Seimei himself was longing for someone in particular too. It seemed out of character for him to ever verbalize it, but Ritsuka wondered. Maybe all of them were just meant to want whomever they couldn't have. Maybe life was just cruel that way.
"Shove over, Ritsuka," Kio was suddenly grumbling. Ritsuka looked up from his musing to find Kio yanking his shirt off irritably and herding Ritsuka back into the bed. Then Kio climbed in after him. He didn't climb in beside Soubi, though. He laid on Ritsuka's left, so that Ritsuka was in between them. He felt bizarrely like a child who had stolen away into their parents' bed after a bad dream.
Soubi peered at Kio over Ritsuka's shoulders. "Kio…" he murmured again, with veiled sorrow.
Kio ignored him completely.
"Go to sleep, Ritsuka," was all he said.
Secretly, Ritsuka was perfectly content with Kio wanting to use him as a living barrier between himself and Soubi. He still didn't feel up to facing Natsuo and Youji, mostly because he had come to his senses and realized he owed Natsuo an apology for belittling what clearly was NOT a mock romance, and he was too busy feeling cross at them for siding with Kio to do it. He wasn't feeling quite that civil toward Kano at the moment either. Although Kio was on his bad side as well, Ritsuka still had respect for his feelings.
He rolled to his side to curl toward Kio, putting his back to Soubi. In the following darkness, however, he couldn't help but think that of the three of them, it was Soubi who probably felt the most lonely.
-Bratchild3 & Magic_Mind
TO BE CONTINUED...