Chapter 8: Easy Boy
"Toraaa-chin!" calls out Atsushi, his loud, deep voice bouncing off the walls of my house, as it travels into the kitchen, startling myself. Wiping my hands on my mom's yellow apron, I nearly trip over the bottom, extra fabric due to it's long length. But thankfully, or maybe not thankfully, Aomine and Taiga were there to each grab my arms, keeping me upright. I look up, about to thank them both until I watch there heated, defensive gazes upon one another.
As the three of us walked home, I was too afraid to start a conversation, in fear that the both of them would end up attacking the other. So the walk home remained somewhat civilized. Until we got home.
"This is something I thought I wouldn't see again," muses out Taiga, as he begins to smile at an old picture of the two of us at my old house. We were such cute, innocent children back then.
"Nothing slips past that skull, hm?" mutters a tired Aomine, as he plops down lazily into the nearby chair. He begins to lay his head down on his forearms on the table, until Taiga throws something at his head.
"The hells yer' problem?" yells out a now annoyed Aomine. He stands up, searching for something to throw back. He eyes the abundance of red apples settled perfectly in the white, crystallized bowl.
"Got something to say? You and me, one and one. Let's go!" hollers back a challenging Taiga, as he begins to pound his fist menacingly into his palm.
"If I win, everything on your plate goes on-"
Slamming my mom's cleaver onto the cutting board, I manage to grab both of their attention. The testosterone in this kitchen was smouldering me to the point where I was picturing the cutting board as their heads. This was the exact reason why I couldn't leave Atsushi's side. Without him, I was no longer sane or normal.
"Tora," they both say in unison, as they take a step towards me, a soft expression overcoming their faces. Holding the cleaver up, I slam it back onto the cutting board, wedging it deep in the worn out wood.
"You two aren't going anywhere! What do you think, I'm some sort of, sort of maid who'll cook and clean for-"
"Yes," mutters Aomine, as he digs his hands into his pockets while looking away, thinking I hadn't heard his remark.
"That was a rhetorical question! You two will stay here in the kitchen under my supervision. You have two options. Either go in the living room and play some video games like good, behaved boys or stay in the kitchen and GET MURDERED BECAUSE YOU BOTH ARE DRIVING ME IN-"
I had then proceeded to watch Taiga grab the back of Aomine's hood, quickly running away into what I hoped would be the living room. For a few minutes, I heard them bickering amongst one another. After straining to hear them some more, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard them arguing about what game to play.
After a couple of minutes of that, both of them moped into the kitchen, quietly taking seats in the chairs while they watched me make dinner. Feeling very much uncomfortable with their steely, hunger-stricken gazes upon me, I turned on the radio to lighten the mood up.
Now here I was, pushing past them both as my saviour had just walked in, my sanity and soul in his hands.
"Tora-chin. Why are there-"
Jumping into Atsushi, I nearly take us to the floor as I try to wrap my arms around his torso. Crying, I nuzzle my face deeply into his chest like a child who's parent had returned from work to pick them up from a gruelling day of day care.
"What's wrong?" he asks softly, as he gently begins to stroke my hair.
"N-Next time you go to visit your grandma…take me with you!" I sob louder, as I clench the fabric of his grey sweater tightly into my fist.
"Neeeeeh? Did those perv-"
"IT'S NOTHING LIKE THAT!" they yell out in unison.
"Heh, really? Then home come you two are in the corner. So cuddly and close to one another?" asks a smug Atsushi as he grabs my shoulders, pushing me gently away from him to see my face.
"You missed them kiss," I mumble quietly, hoping that Atsushi was the only one who heard.
He begins to laugh, his loud, yet gentle voice reassuring my heavy, distressed heart. He pats my head before entering the kitchen, walking past Aomine and Taiga as he pulls the fridge open.
"So why are they here?"
"It's a long story. I met Taiga and I invited him over because I thought he'd appreciate the change from his cooking. And then I picked up the one beside him at the pound," I glee happily, as I point towards Taiga and Aomine. I brush past them both as I return to cutting up some onions.
"Ya' little brat!" yells Aomine, as he begins to tug on my pony tails, making my head bob back and forth. My gaze begins to grow blurry by this, sending me to miscalculate my next slice. I wince in pain as I accidentally, well purposely because of Aomine, slice my forefinger.
The kitchen remains silent, each male realizing as to what just happened. Instead of Taiga this time, Atsushi grabs the backs of each Taiga and Aomine, throwing them into the other room as he trails behind, a bucket load of pre-snacks in his arms.
If Atsushi hadn't been there to toss them away, I would've been sitting in a damp, cold cell by the time my parents returned from work.
Sighing, I wipe the sweat off from my forehead with the back of my arm. I still had a lot to do and a little help would go a long way. I could always call the boys in individually to help me. But I couldn't just leave one with the other. Aomine and Taiga alone was already a big no. Atsushi and Taiga weren't that bad together. It was mainly Taiga who proved to be the instigator. Aomine and Atsushi alone would be perfectly fine, taking in their recent past together. So I'd have to use two out of the three boys to help me considering Taiga and Aomine could not be trusted. Then I suppose I'd leave Atsushi out of helping, but I felt a little guilty about making Taiga work. But then I'm reminded of his earlier joke, the reference towards the large, slow roasted swine.
Well, if I ever wanted to eat tonight, I did need help.
"Aomine!" I yell out, my voice hoarse and strained due to the excess yelling I had done earlier.
I hear tentative steps emerge into the kitchen as I pull out the pans for the Takoyaki.
Turning around, I find Aomine standing by the fridge, his head down in slight shame.
"Come here, trouble maker."
He walks towards me like a scolded child, standing obediently beside me as he takes a look at what I had before him.
"Eh? I thought we were having fried chicken?" he asks, as he points towards the contents that clearly weren't fried chicken.
"What made you think that?"
"Tai-"
"If this is some way of you getting him in trouble, it's not going to work. We're having Takoyaki and Tonkatsu," I sternly say, as I walk around him to grab a few homemade spices, courtesy of my grandmother.
"I love you."
Stopping in my tracks, I clench the small bottles tightly in my grasp. My heart was beating to the point where it was threatening to blow up my ear drums. D-Did he just say-
"I love you, Takoyaki!"
Continuing my task, I pretend to have felt nothing just then. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up.
"Here, mix this for me and then after pour in these three bowls. Alright?" I ask slowly and clearly, as I hand him the large bowl and spoon.
He grabs the two instruments, setting it before him on the grey counter. He begins to reach for the first bowl until I stop him.
"Roll up your sleeves. Or better yet, take off your sweat-"
"I'm not wearing anything underneath," he states blankly, as he grabs the bottom of his black sweater, beginning to lift upwards as if I didn't believe him. I catch a glimpse of his smooth, mocha skin and as well as the waistband to his dark, navy coloured boxers.
Blushing, I begin to stumble back while throwing my hands up to shield my gaze. But I find myself opening my fingers wide, so I could peek through the small crevices.
Aomine looks back and forth between my face and his pelvic region. "Like what you see?" he muses out, as he begins to enclose towards me, flapping his sweatshirt up and down, teasing me helplessly with his God-like physique.
Whimpering in love, I plead for him to stop. Walking backwards, I stumble into something hard and rigid as Aomine's gaze grows soft and almost fearful. He quickly yanks down his sweatshirt, clearing his throat as he looks away.
"Toraaa-chin. The other boy in that room wants to talk with you," claims Atsushi, as he sticks his bright red sucker back into his mouth. He keeps his gaze steadily on Aomine, unblinking and bored as he watches Aomine take a seat on the chair.
"What does-"
"He said it's urgent."
Giving Atsushi and myself a strange look, I mumble for him to take care of Aomine while I check on Taiga quickly. Walking past him, I walk down the wooden floored hall that was adorned decoratively with all types of family photos of relatives and friends. Entering the living room, I find a very much tired Taiga lounging on our grey couch, his long legs draping over the armrest.
"Taiga, what's wrong?" I ask, as I approach him cautiously. Did he want to go home? Did Atsushi and him have a few words?
"Wha'? Nothing. Is dinner almost done?" he asks lazily, as he begins to swing his arm back and forth beside him as he turns to stare at me on his stomach.
"Not exactly. Trying to get some help from Aomine isn't exactly the easiest thing. Atsushi told me you had something important to tell me," I confess, as I place my hands on my hips.
A confused expression overcomes Taiga as he shrugs his shoulders in response. "We were watching TV until he got up and left when we heard you yelling in the kitchen. I didn't mention anything to-"
Leaving the living area, I begin to stomp back towards the kitchen more frustrated than I was before leaving. All I wanted was to make dinner, feed the boys and call it a night. Was that so hard? And what was up with Atsushi making up petty lies like that?
Grumbling towards myself, I'm about to burst into the kitchen when I hear Atsushi and Aomine talking amongst each other. Hiding behind the wall, I find myself listening in on their conversation.
"…probably if she had a bigger chest I'd consider it. I dunno," says Aomine, as I hear him sigh out at the end.
"So you wouldn't date Tora-chin because she's flat chested?" asks Atsushi, for what would be the second time.
Gripping the fabric of my apron, I begin to slide down into a crouch, my head loosely hung in my hands. I-I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to hear it, experience the very thing I had been dreading the most when it came to Aomine. I knew he preferred girls with large chests, like Momoi for example. But I didn't think he was that shall- No, he wasn't being shallow. It was merely his type of woman. Beautiful. Something I clearly wasn't because of a small chest.
Somehow, I find myself smiling as I squeeze my eyes shut in pain. Don't cry. Don't cry.
"When you put it like that it sounds pretty bad. Not only that, I guess. She's more one of the guys than girlfriend material."
Too late. One by one the tears begin to run down my face, slowly making a wet splotch on my mother's yellow, laced apron.
After a few more words exchanged between the two, I decide to walk in at a time when the topic had shifted. Standing up, I smooth out my apron and roughly wipe my eyes and nose before walking in.
"Neh? I was gone for a while and you two are just standing around?" I chide unhappily, as I walk past them both and towards the uncooked food.
"What did Kagami want?" asks Atsushi, his voice glazed over with slight content. Sniffling my nose, I quickly make up a lie, not wanting to talk about the matter much more.
Dumping the ingredients into the bowl, I begin to mix the contents myself until Aomine appears by my side, a soft, almost apologetic look upon his face as he tries to grab the bowl from me. I knew he wanted to just help, but I couldn't forget about what he had said about me just now. Almost hostile I take a step back, almost yelling a "no" at him.
He stares at me with a confused, shocked expression until he tries to reach out again. "Tora, I'll do it. Give it-"
"N-No! You're…you're a guest here. I can't possibly make you cook. P-Please go and sit in the living-"
"The hell? You were ready just now to make a slave out of-"
I look towards Atsushi, almost in a pleading manner for him to get him out of here. But I discover that he is nowhere to be found. And he certainly wasn't exactly hard to miss.
"Atsu-"
Biting my tongue, I finally realized as to what was going on here. Atsushi had come to instigate Aomine about what he really thought of me. He knew I'd be back quickly once I realized that Taiga had nothing to say and he also knew I'd be listening in on the conversation, so that's why he had made Aomine repeat himself, so that I heard. But I hadn't told anything to Atsushi about my recent, strong feelings for Aomine. I suppose a basketball wasn't the only thing that could get by him. He had done this all so that I could give up on him. So that I didn't have to follow him around like a helpless puppy dog anymore. So that I didn't have to live in torment and could move on. But to what? I didn't have anything to move on to. To look forward to in life besides basketball.
"Yer' eyes are…red?" infers Aomine, as he takes a step closer towards me.
"Onions," I quickly reply back.
"Yer' nose is running too. Were you cry-"
"Stop!" I yell out, as I push him away from me. He takes a few steps back, his eyes going wide as he realizes what had just happened.
"That bastard knew," groans Aomine, as he refers back to when Atsushi knew I was listening to the conversation.
"It's…fine. Don't be ashamed of how you-"
"You know it doesn't have anything to do with that. I-I told you about Satsuki!" he says, almost trying to persuade not only me, but himself.
"And how's that coming along?"
"You say that like you don't think I actually like her?"
Looking away from his gaze, I rub my nose in irritancy.
"You don't think I actually like Satsuki," states Aomine in shock, as he reads my thoughts.
"Aomine, you've had years to take the initiative. Why all of a sudden after my mom mentions the idea at-"
"Yer' jealous."
Scoffing, I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not. Don't throw this on-"
"Yer' right, sorry. Look, I don't want to turn this into something so let's get this straight. I, like Satsuki. I, don't like you, alright? Let's just be friends. Like how you are with Murasakibara?" pleads Aomine, his voice gentle and sweet, but the sting still very apparent.
Sighing, I look up at him underneath my dark bangs. A small, reassuring smile is what I'm met with, as he reaches to pat his hand down on my head.
I finally nod my head.
"Thanks, kiddo."
There it was again. That same, heart wrenching, demeaning term.
Aomine walks out of the kitchen, leaving me with an uneasy mind, conscious and heart. I suppose it was over then. No love to chase, no love to expect in return.
"Tora, need some help?" asks a soft, but yet cautious voice from the side. Looking over my shoulder, I realize it's Taiga.
Nodding my head, I begin to pour the batter into it's pan, but I find my hold beginning to shake uncomfortably. Suddenly the bowl is taken out of my hands, Taiga taking over as he finishes up the pouring. I stare up at him, an almost shocked look overcoming my face. This was what I wanted. Someone to help without the extra banter and off topic conversations.
"And then-"
"It's fine. I've made Takoyaki before. Remember, live by myself and all," he jokes, as he begins to heat the now uncooked food.
Smiling in response, I begin to drain the cabbage as I order Taiga to cut the pork up.
"Just like old times," I muse out, as I try to get my mind off of the other boy.
"The hell it is. You'd be chasing me around the house by now with a knife!"
Holding the cleaver up from before, I show it to Taiga, a sly smile overcoming my face. "Put it down. I'm stronger than you are now," he says, as he in-avertedly flexes his muscles. Laughing, I place the knife back down as I begin to pour some oil to fry the pork chops.
"Remember when we used to play house?" I ask, as I walk around him.
"That wasn't house. It was more of some type of sick twisted safe house," he replies back, a gruesome look overcoming his face.
I remember what he was talking about by the look of his face. Up in my tree house back in America, I had lied to Taiga about playing house, but instead I tied him to a chair, duct taping his mouth. I called some girl friends over, all of us taking turns dressing up Taiga and putting make up on him as I took pictures to use for future black mail. Something I had seen in a recent movie that I wasn't supposed to watch when my mom was in the kitchen making lunch. I was grounded for a week and I wasn't allowed to see Taiga during that time. But he'd always sneak over, breaking into my room. Most of the times while I was changing. Which brought up even worse memories that were going to remain unspoken up.
Laughing again, I pat Taiga on the back, hoping to bring him back from the terrifying memory. As I finish up draining the cabbage, Taiga has finished breading the meat as well.
"You're future girlfriend is going to be lucky," I muse out, as I take the plate of meat from his hands. I watch a small, nervous blush creep onto his face.
Walking towards the stove, I pick up a neatly breaded piece of pork, about to place it into the hot oil.
"T-Tora!"
Placing the meat into the oil, a loud sizzling sound fills the kitchen as some of the oil ends up splattering into the air. Taking a step back, clearly frightened, I nearly drop the rest of the meat on the floor.
"Damnit!" growls out Taiga, as I hear his voice becoming more and more distant. Turning the heat down of the oil, I mentally kick myself for as to why I had kept it on high. If my mother could see me now. Looking towards Taiga, I ask if he's alright, but then I notice him holding the side of his face.
Quickly walking towards him, I gently peel his hand away from the side of his face. Gasping, I lightly trail my finger over the small, yet apparent burn. Pulling open the nearby drawer, I pull out the safety kit that my mother always kept handy for whenever my dad decided to cook. Grabbing the burn cream, I order for Taiga to take a seat as I open up the cream.
He does so obediently, grumbling in response. Walking towards him, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face nearly inches away from mine. Slowly and gently I carefully apply the balm, a guilty look overcoming my face.
"Stupid boy," I mutter.
"YOU'RE THE IDIOT WHO HAD IT ON HIGH!"
"You're the idiot who stood so close."
Growling, Taiga's about to yell some more until I mutter for him to shut up. He was moving too much.
Cupping his face, I pull it even closer, making sure the scorching oil hadn't flown onto his face in any other areas. I fail to notice the deep blush overcoming his face.
"The hells going on in here?" asks a demanding, dark voice from the doorway. Taiga and I both look to the entrance, finding a scowling Aomine. A dark, menacing aura clouded around his intimidating figure.