Hashirama
Queers Are Murderers
"You've been gone a long time."
I closed the door, raising my eyebrows to Hisa who sat at the kitchen table eating peanut butter crackers over a newspaper.
"I was out with a friend."
She smiled.
"I know. Tobirama told me. I also heard through the grapevine. A neighborhood boy just passed, right?"
I nodded.
"His older brother."
"You're such a good friend. Being there for him and expecting nothing in return." She said smile softening. "That's a really good personality trait, you know."
I smiled back at her.
"That's me. The best friend a guy could ever ask for." I said, nearing her. "So, where is everyone?"
"In bed." She responded, frankly. "You guys do have a bedtime, you know."
"It's Saturday." I reminded her.
"All the more reason for you to go to sleep early!" she declared. "You know, God cries when people sleep in church."
I burst into a grin and she matched mine and we started laughing.
"I visited Uncle today."
She raised her eyebrows, only slightly interested.
"Still as eccentric as usual?"
"Eccentric?! I think he's pretty cool!" I told her.
"You would!" she said, reaching over to pinch my cheek playfully as I sat down at the table next to her.
It was then, as I neared her, that I caught it. It was slight. Like how you think you're smelling something but you're not sure if it's persistent or just a passing thing? I searched for it, discreetly sniffing around her. No. It was a persistent smell. What Itama was talking about... I suddenly realized why he didn't recognize it...
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, then she pointed at me. "I should be staring at you, you know, you're wearing pants for the first time in five years!"
I laughed.
"I wear pants to church." I reminded her.
Even though she was that 'whatever you want to do is your own business' kind of mother, she was pretty stern when it came to church. I was normally allowed to wear bright colors anyway, but I had to keep my board shorts on under my khakis, like how I went to the funeral.
"Yeah, because I threaten you by saying I'll ground you from drawing!"
We laughed momentarily.
"So what does he look like nowadays?" she asked, grabbing another cracker. "That surfer craze."
I grabbed a cracker, too.
"...Like Dad." I told her, before biting into it.
She nodded silently. Hisa never visited my father's brother after my father died. I never visited him either. Or Tobirama. Or any of us. The main reason was that...he was my father's twin brother. Identical twin brother. And it bothered all of us too much to speak about to see him as he was, looking like he did. The only reason I probably even gained the balls to go that time was because I'd been aching to surf for years and because I wanted to be with him.
"Did you have fun?"
I nodded.
Because of Madara. It was all because of him. And as I started thinking about it, I remembered the train ride home. It didn't take as long to get home as it did to get there but there were a few changes. Firstly, we went to a station and snuck onto a train while it wasn't moving, to make sure Madara didn't somehow end up underneath the freaking train, and then, because on that specific one there were a bunch of train workers walking around, we ended up having to climb up to the top and hide up there.
"This is dangerous as hell!" Madara exclaimed.
I laughed.
"Aw, is baby punk ass Madara scared?"
He moved to shove me but seeing as how the sides of the train were curved and pushing me would likely result in a fatal accident, he stopped himself just in time. It was mostly dark up there as the train barreled through at around 50 or 60 miles per hour.
"What if we pass through a tunnel?"
"Most train tunnels are made with a good amount of space between the top of the tunnel and the train, just in case." I told him. "We'd just have to lie down, if that."
"You mean you've done this before?!"
"Dude, haven't you ever heard of subway riding?!" I asked him.
He groaned and flopped backwards, looking up at the sky. I crawled over to him and leaned into his line of sight.
"You trust me?" I asked him.
"What do you think?"
I grinned. It was then... While I was looking down at him lying there, that I remembered how we kissed on the beach. And what he said to me afterwards.
"You're a queer."
I'd honestly never thought about it, even though I was very consciously aware of my feelings about him. But I never put it into black and white terms like that. Never questioned it. I just liked him. I just liked him. I just... There... Was no beginning or ending to it. It was just that.
He raised his arms and grabbed my shoulders.
"You just like watching me, don't you?"
But that was true, too. I was watching him before. At the baseball games. But I just really liked his face. His expressions.
And then I was reminded of the expression he made at the beach. That expression that caused me to do what I did... At first, he looked really honest and open, like before, at the stadium. Like he was telling the complete truth about dropping whatever he was doing with those other kids just to hang out with me. I was grateful for that... So I kissed him. That would've been it. I know that would've been it but then, when I saw the next expression he made... His face and ears were all instantly bright red and the way he looked at me... He just looked so damn shy and innocent... I really, really couldn't help myself that time... I really couldn't.
"I wish I knew what was going on inside your head." I told him as I leaned over him. "That's all."
"You want to know what I'm thinking right now?" he asked.
"What?"
"I'm thinking you're blocking my view of the stars." He replied.
I sighed, beginning to back off him but with his hands still on my shoulder's he pulled me downwards...and hugged me. I flattened myself down onto his body, surprised at such a random occurrence of affection.
"So...you won't let me up?"
"Just shut up."
We lay there silently. My cheek pressed against his collarbone. I adored the bare skin warming my face there. He slid his arms up my back and his fingertips meshed in with my hair at the base of my neck. It was like a lullaby. His entire existence was lolling me into a zone of peace and harmony I'd never even entered before. I felt like I was dissolving into a dream I never wanted to wake up from. Eternally warm and serene in his arms.
"Hashirama?"
I'd almost fallen asleep. I blinked.
"Huh?" I asked.
"I meant to ask this earlier but I forgot." He said. "Your Step-Mother... Earlier you said she isn't really a strong person. Why did you say that?"
I just wanted to lose myself in him but I opened my mouth and began telling him what I thought I knew.
"Hashirama!"
"What?" I said, blinking.
"Just zoned out on me there." Hisa said, looking concerned.
I smiled back.
"Sorry." I said, then I yawned. "I guess I'm just tired."
I watched as she went back to munching on her crackers. A pair of clear, very tall high heels was hanging on the back of the chair she was sitting at. Her blouse was stretched open, almost forcibly looking, and there was a stain on her short, dark gray skirt.
I glanced at the clock. It was: 10:32 pm.
"Get off work early tonight?"
She nodded.
"Mhmm. I decided to take an earlier shift." She pulled the newspaper down and gave me a longing look. "I wanted to surprise you guys but then you weren't home."
My eyes flicked over her. You know when you have a guess about something or someone and you start playing detective in your head? Piecing 'evidence' together in your head like a puzzle and listening to every single thing three times as hard. I'd basically been doing that since the moment she'd gotten that job.
She never came home wearing the same thing she left in. She worked in the pediatric section of the hospital. Who in the actual fuck wears clear heels to clean bedpans? And her makeup was always smudged or messy, along with her hair. And the scent... What Itama smelled... I was vaguely familiar with the scent of a heavy mary jane smoker. It was a distinct smell but along with the stains on her skirt, cocaine or crack or both, it wasn't a far fetch.
But all that didn't put the nail in the coffin. It was that... She'd never told us where she worked her second job. Never.
"Hisa... Where do you work?" I asked her.
She flipped the page of the newspaper, taking an unusually long time to respond.
"Didn't I tell you guys before?" she asked me, without looking up. "I work downtown. In the city."
"Where in the city?" I specified.
"You know..." she said, turning another page. "Uh... In the beauty parlor."
"The beauty parlor closes at 11pm?" I asked.
"We have to do clean-up stuff." She finally looked over the paper and winked at me. "You know women."
Oh, yeah, I knew women. And I also knew, just like every other human being on the face of the planet, when my parental figure was lying to me.
My mind retraced its way back to my memory of coming home with Madara.
"...Are you sure about all that?" he asked me when I told him everything I'd observed about her.
"She's scatter brained." I said. "So, yeah. She wouldn't remember that she's coming home looking completely different than how she left."
"Or maybe she thinks you wouldn't notice."
I watched the trees whipping past the train.
"Maybe. Itama sure doesn't."
"But if all that's true... Then... That probably means she..."
"Yeah." I muttered.
"But you said the hospital had the number." Madara proposed. "Maybe it's something else."
"Tobirama's been doing a bit of snooping, too. He traced that number back to an Adult Entertainment Theater on the edge of the city."
"Adult Enter... Wait, I know that place!"
I lifted my head, giving him a strange look. He nodded.
"My brothers used to try to sneak in there all the time." He said. "It was like a senior dare sort of thing. Anyway, it has an X-rated movie theater inside and...a strip club."
"That basically settles it." I muttered. "She's out all night...fucking some assholes."
Madara was silent momentarily.
"Is...that why you asked me if I was serious about saying 'by any means necessary'?" He finally asked me.
I found I couldn't respond. But that was the reason. It was the only reason.
"I'm not sure if it applies... To something like that."
"Face it, Madara." I said, finding a way to smile up at him. "Your Mother's actually better than mine."
He rolled his eyes.
"Don't get carried away. At least your Mother has a job."
Somehow, we both laughed. It was funny. It was really funny in a 'this world is so fucked up' kind of way. Imagine finding out your step mother, the same woman that takes care of sickly hospital children and reads mystery books with your brothers spends her nights getting tossed. Actually... The only way I could stomach it was to laugh. Laughter distracts. It numbs.
"I'm sorry." Madara said.
It was misplaced. Random. Especially coming from him.
"No biggie." I told him.
I shifted over him, moving my head onto the left part of his chest and, suddenly, I was struck with a really relaxing sound. His heartbeat. While I moved on him, it quickened slightly. I wasn't sure what that meant but his reaction brought me to a crucial level of excitement. Especially when he started stroking my hair and the rumble of the train beneath us caused certain body parts to rub up against others.
As I sat in the kitchen watching Hisa blatantly lie to me, I was brought back to that first strain of thinking. I was wondering... Could it be possible? To actually...like a guy?
"Hisa, can I ask you a question?"
She pulled the newspaper back, revealing a really, really funny face that she was making.
"Okay, spill it."
I smiled, unable to resist her silliness. Parents like her that could stoop down to a kiddie level on moment's notice were pretty awesome. ...Despite what they had to do for a living.
"...What do you think about queers?"
I caught her completely off guard. Her joking attitude changed to starling confusion.
"What, you mean like... Like homosexuals?" she asked as if she didn't hear me.
"No, duh, Hisa!"
She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully.
"Well... Nothing really... I mean..." She fumbled. "There are people out there who just...do weird things."
"Weird things?"
She paused momentarily, as if collecting the perfect way to respond in her head.
"See, here's the truth, Hashi, there's honestly no such thing as queers. You know like how people choose to murder people?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, well, there's people who choose to do intimate things with their own sex the same way." She said shrugging. "Just like how people aren't born murderers, people aren't born queers."
"So...being a queer is like being a murderer?" I clarified.
She nodded wholeheartedly.
"God punishes humans the same for both." She told me. "It's in the bible."
That was true. It was in the bible... Plenty of times.
"Queers are just weak hearted people who get tainted with the devil." She said, opening her newspaper back up. "What they need to do is go back to church... Find God."
So everything I felt was just... Nothing? It was just the devil tainting me with evil?
"I think I get it." I said, getting up from the table. "I'm going to go bed."
"Wait a second, Hashi."
I turned just as I was about to walk into the hallway.
"That new friend you made. Madara, right? He isn't doing anything weird, is he?" she asked me.
The expression on her face was suspicious. And there was also something else behind it. Something more...ruthless.
"No." I said quickly. "I just heard the word somewhere. That's all."
She popped another cracker into her mouth.
"Good."
I sighed as I pushed the door open to the room I shared with my two younger brothers. The room was so crowded with the bunk bed on the left hand side of the room and the single bed, my bed, on the right, that there was hardly any place to walk. I pulled the jacket I was wearing off, Madara's jacket, and zipped the jeans down, Madara's jeans, and ran my hand through my hair.
As I turned toward my bed, my eyes lowered to the bright red binder I had used as a drawing workshop. I pulled off my shirt and with just my board shorts on, slid into bed. The first couple of pages were from the summer and had mostly pictures of trees. Then there was the picture I drew of Itama's hands and Tobirama's eyes and the baseball. And then after that... After that...
Every single picture I'd drawn since that day was of Madara. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself when I was bored, sitting next to him in class, since I sat next to him in every class because our names were so close together. I didn't mean to watch him. I honestly didn't, but... I'd ended up drawing a different one almost every day.
Even then, my hand was reaching toward my pencil and with the light snoring of my younger brothers' as the only sounds around me and the memory of Madara's face, right after I'd kissed him the first time, fresh in my mind, I started drawing again with only the dim lamp next to my bedside for illumination. And while I did, I couldn't help but wonder if drawing boys was a sin, too.
Madara
Staying For Him
A minor... D Flat... B minor... Right? Or was it A minor, B flat, D minor? No...
I messed with the acoustic guitar that had been gathering dust in the corner of my room for almost a full year. It had been an extremely long time since I practiced, but it was like riding a bike. It didn't take me long to remember the cords to all the songs I used to play.
Or maybe it was actually F, A, G...
But the one song I was learning by ear, just by hearing it on the radio, was pretty difficult to replicate. Even more so since the friggin' phone wouldn't stop friggin' ringing...
I continued strumming, coming pretty close to matching what I remembered the radio tune to be when someone started making a bunch of completely unnecessary noise.
"Madara!" A voice exclaimed, startling me and causing me to almost drop my friggin' guitar.
I sighed, trying to find my place again from where my fingers slipped.
"Madara!"
"WHAT!?"
"Your stupid friends are calling this house night and day looking for you, now you better come down here answer this goddamn phone!"
I hopped out of bed, dropping the guitar and tugging the door open.
"Is it Hashirama?" I asked as I got to the balcony.
My Mother, wearing a classic pair of sloppy workout pants and one of my elder brothers' old t-shirts stared at me.
"No, it's Kagami and the rest of your little gang."
I turned, completely losing interest.
"Tell them I'm busy."
"Just because you got a new friend doesn't mean you're supposed to forget your old ones, Madara."
"Mother, please. Do you really think you have the authority to lecture me about life?"
We glared at each other. Tension high...as usual.
"You better be glad I'm too tired to run all the way up those fucking steps and smack the taste out of your mouth." She muttered.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever... Why don't you go tell that to 'Jack Daniels'?" I replied.
"I don't know who the fuck you think you're talking to. Because I know it isn't me."
"Are you seeing things now, too? Who else is down there, Mother?!" I shouted at her before turning and walking into my room.
"Fine! Walk away from me! One day you're going to need your Mother, Madara!" She hollered.
"It's going to be one cold day in hell!" I screamed back.
There wasn't a real reason why we were arguing. I always said that kind of stuff to her, ever since she started acting like she didn't know the meaning of 'parenthood' but strangely, ever since Tsubasa died, she'd started talking offense to it or something. The things I normally said that she wouldn't even bat an eyelash at had her jumping across the dinner table to grab my shirt collar, like the night before, or threatening to friggin' ground me for Christ's sake.
It's way too late to start giving a damn, Mother...
I glanced over at my desk where the picture Hashirama had given me was tacked to the wall above it. I found, the more I looked at it, the more and more I liked it.
It's like I keep finding new things to look at... Of course, Hashirama would just say that makes me a narcissist.
My eyes traveled down from the picture to my desk where, atop some of my textbooks and homework assignments, there was a black business card. I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers to the side with the words:
"We Guard Your Savings Like Ninja"
Printed on it in bright red, shiny ink.
"Dad..." I found myself whispering.
It was right after I came home from the beach with Hashirama that, right before I was about to go to sleep, I talked to him. I was leaning over my desk, pinning up the picture Hashirama drew of me when someone knocked on the door.
"Could you stop harassing me, Mother, I told you I don't remember the name of the radio station!" I shouted.
The door creaked open slowly, in a delicate way. And that drew my attention. No one else in that house had a precautious bone in their body except him. I turned, fingers slipping, and dropping the pin and paper which fluttered to the floor. He walked over slowly and picked it up.
"Nice work." He said, glancing at it. "You do this yourself?"
I shook my head.
"A friend drew it for me."
"Ahhh." He said, before setting it down on my desk and regarding me again. "So what do you have to show for yourself?"
Nothing I could ever explain to you.
"I...decided to start boxing again." I told him.
"Really now?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"And what kind of position do you think that will put you in for the future?" He asked.
I said nothing. He walked around me, looking at the parts that made up my room, a sixth grade science fair gold medal here, a third grade music award there, I was sure it was all new to him seeing as how I couldn't recall one time in my life that he'd entered my room.
"I'll be frank with you, Madara." He finally said, turning to me hands settled in his brown slacks. "...You're wasting your life here."
He leaned up against my desk.
"If you stay here, your Mother's going to kill you, you know." He said. "She'll strangle the life out of you with all of her depression and misery. This house...it isn't any place for a true man. A man of the world... That's why I left."
He motioned to me.
"How old are you now? Ten? Eleven?" He asked. "That's a man in my eyes."
I resisted sighing.
"I'm almost sixteen, Father."
"Well, then even more so!"
I raised my eyebrows.
"...Then...why didn't you take me or Tsubasa or Izuna with you?" I asked him.
He stared at me.
"You can blame your Mother for that." He said. "I tried, Madara... But she stood in my way, and because of that, your eldest brother's death resulted."
Wait... That means...
"You were planning to leave Mother even then?"
He seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Your Mother and I haven't had much more than a civil union." He confessed. "It's you boys I've always cared about. Not her."
He walked toward me.
"Now... You understand what I mean, don't you?" He asked. "I can send you to a boys' boarding school near where I live. There, you'll learn the proper skills and book smarts and etiquette to one day take my place instead of milling around playing hockey."
"It's boxing." I said.
He gave me a look that had me wondering why I even thought it'd be smart to correct him.
"If your Mother had allowed me to send Taiga, I'm sure this family's fate would have resulted much differently, don't you think?" he asked.
I nodded slowly.
"I guess...yeah." I replied.
He put a hand on my shoulder.
"So you'll accompany me, then?" He asked.
But then, even though I was soaking in everything he said the entire time. I hesitated.
"What about Izuna and Mother?" I asked. "...She'll neglect him."
"Well, you just said yourself that Izuna's ten now. That's old enough to take care of himself."
I never said that. Christ, Father, nobody is ten years old anymore.
I looked up to see his eyes narrowing at me, examining me closely. It wasn't until I glanced at the mirror, noticing the horrifically deep scars across my neck from almost being strangled that I hunched my shoulders up in an attempt to hide it.
"I mean, you're both men, aren't you?" he went on. "If she tries any kind of threat, either of you boys are more than strong enough to handle her."
"Handle her?" I repeated, then I touched my neck again. "No, you've got it wrong. She didn't-"
"It's about time you've understood, Madara." He went on. "Women are secondary creatures to men. Though, however dull they may be, a little physical persuasion is never lost on them."
Physical persuasion? Like...
It wasn't a family secret that my father put his hands on my mother more times than anyone could count. But that happened the most when I was young and either of my elder brothers could distract me or lie to me about what was happening. The last time he had done something like that, it was right after Taiga died and Itsuya was hospitalized. It was a huge fight. I remembered Tsubasa being too frightened to stand up to my Dad and ending up just letting him do what he wanted to her...which wasn't pretty. While she was being treated for brain trauma and a broken arm, that was when he went and signed the papers for Itsuya to be taken off life support...
"She'll do nothing but make all of your potential rot, Madara." My Father reminded me. "Especially, if you're letting her do whatever she wants with you."
If there was one thing I knew for certain it was that my family was always terribly dysfunctional. But it was a very well kept secret. It wasn't until very recently, with my father absent, two of my brothers dead, and my mother spending the majority of her time at the liquor store, that we became noticeably dysfunctional. I'd always wished, during that time, that I could escape somehow.
"I don't have all day, Madara."
But at that moment...strangely, I didn't want that anymore. My eyes lowered to the drawing of me he had laid on the desk and suddenly, I realized why I didn't want it.
Because...for the first time in my life, I have someone who actually makes some goddamn sense in this shitty, fucked up world. And I... I...
"Father..."
I don't want to leave him.
"...I'm sorry, but... I'll have to decline." I decided.
He stared at me for a long moment and then slid his hands into his pockets.
"I don't know what kind of spell your Mother has on you boys'. Tsubasa said the same thing... And then he went and got himself killed." He said sourly. "Well, it's no matter."
He took a small black card out of his shirt pocket.
"I know you'll change your mind." He said. "Unlike the other boys, you're different. I can see it in your eyes. You're ambitious, Madara. You're goal-driven. You have purpose. ...Just like me."
I took the card that he was handing me, like I was one of his business constituents, and watched him leave my room. He'd hardly stayed with us for two days and he was already leaving.
Strangely, I was reminded of my Mother's words as she hit me while she was driving. She was saying something about me "worshipping" my father even though he wasn't even "man" enough to watch his own kids and ran away like a lousy piece of crap.
I must be fucking crazy but... I think my Mother's right. People who try to 'escape' their duties are...cowards. And I'm not like him. I'm not going to run away from anything.
I grabbed both ends of the business card as I stood in my room remembering that conversation and, a week later afterwards, ripped it in half and tossed it into my desk drawer.
So much for "knowing I'll change my mind", huh, Dad?
But with the reoccurrence of those unsettling memories and the telephone downstairs beginning to ring again, I turned to my closet where I slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants and matched it with a black t-shirt that said "Be The Revolution" in red letters and threw on a pair of shoes I hadn't worn in almost a year, an army patterned pair of Vans Era's, the shoe brand Hashirama normally wore.
A dark green "Konoha" baseball cap that Izuna had recently given me hung on the hook next to my door. I fitted it on over my hair, backwards, and left my room, beginning to descend the stairs and make my way toward the door discreetly.
I can't believe I'm sneaking around like I care.
But the final step creaked, like it normally did, and the couch groaned signaling someone moving.
"I hope that isn't Madara Uchiha trying to leave this house."
I sighed, cursing under my breath.
"Again, Mother, who else is in here?" I asked, stepping off of the last step and coming into plain sight.
She was lying on the couch, as usual, but unlike usual she sat up gave me a hard look.
"Where are you going?"
I stared her back down.
"Hashirama's house."
She cocked her head.
"Again? What is it with that kid?"
My brain took a tentative step back, trying to seal away any kind of emotion on my face.
"Nothing. My boxing match is today and he just..." I stammered, avoiding her eyes. "...He's going to come with me, okay?"
"Well, if you must go see that boy every single day, then go ahead." she replied, sighing. "But if you see Izuna out there, tell him to pick up-"
I balled my fists.
"What? Cigs and liquor?" I interrupted her.
She paused.
"Stop trying to ruin his life, too!" I retorted.
She sighed, letting go of the edge and lying back down into the couch.
"...Tell him...to pick up milk on his way back." She finished.
I froze.
...Milk?
My hand fingered the doorknob.
I can't believe this woman is actually making me feel...
"Fine." I said, before opening it and slamming it behind me.
Guilty.
I went straight to the garage, grabbing the motorcycle in there that everyone continuously kept telling me I was going to go to jail for riding illegally and hopped on.
It's so weird... To be a law-breaking law preacher.
It had been around a week since I'd gone with Hashirama to surf. Ever since then, we'd spent every single day together. Whether we skipped out after school, or in some cases during school, or met up at some local places during study hall or lunch period didn't really matter. It was honestly like we just couldn't get enough of each other. And I wasn't surprised to see him leaning up against my locker in the morning or sitting on my bike waiting for me in the afternoon. It was...what it was.
Which was something neither of us could label.
But that didn't mean we got all touchy-feely anymore. Actually, he seemed to try his hardest not end up in an intimate situation with me at all. I couldn't help but wonder why but...
It's not like I want him to keep being a weirdo around me.
After about fifteen minutes of riding out, I hopped off the bike at his house and adjusted my sunglasses on my nose which were appropriately shielding my eyes from the twelve o'clock blazing sunlight that streaked across the city. I walked up the walk and to the front door but before I could knock, it swung open and Hashirama looked down at me.
He stared at me.
Genuine surprise spread across his face as he stood there with a bag of garbage in one hand.
I stared back at him.
"Uhm... " He began.
Well, this looks awkward.
"Yeahhh..." I mumbled.
His classic grin spread over his face.
"Couldn't stop dreaming about me again?"
"I never dreamed about you in the first place!"
He laughed.
"Then what are you doing on my doorstep, spying through my window?"
I was about ready to snap his neck.
"I was trying to learn a song on the guitar for you... Remember?"
His expression brightened as he let me in.
"Did you figure it out?" he asked me.
"I would've if my Mother didn't start bullshitting me." I muttered, looking around his front room and through to his hallway. "Who's home?"
"No one." He said, shrugging. "They all went to the grocery."
I rolled my eyes.
"So, why didn't you come get me?" I asked him.
"Control-freak, much?" He asked, sneering. "I didn't know you wanted to be my girlfriend."
I could feel my face flushing.
"You said you wanted to come to my match, you bastard!"
He grinned, poking me in the ribs as he walked by and left the house to walk to the garbage can out front. It wasn't long until I heard his soft footsteps padding along on the concrete outside and the screen door slamming behind him.
"So what've you been doing anyway?" I asked, looking around for his classic red binder.
"Practicing fighting." he said simply as he flopped onto the couch.
I stopped in my tracks and turned, giving him a look.
"What?"
"I thought, since you learned how to surf... Well, not really but kind of. It'd be cool if I learned boxing, like you." He explained.
I snickered.
"Wouldn't learning an instrument be a better choice for you?"
"That would take too long." He pointed out, then he gave me a disturbed look. "Wait, are you trying to say I can't learn how to fight?"
"Yes." I told him. "You're better off catching waves, man."
"Whatever, dude. I could learn to box circles around you in seconds."
But before I could say no like I was planning to, he already rolled off of the couch and began shoving the coffee table out of the way.
"Come on, Mada." He said, turning to me.
He begged me with those large, soulful brown eyes of his and I was answering before I could think not to.
"Fine." I muttered.
"YES!" he exclaimed, fist pumping.
He was wearing an actual pair of shorts that day, which were white with red and blue plaid stripes going through them. He grabbed the plain white t-shirt he was wearing and pulled it over his head.
"Why is it that you're always stripping around me?" I asked him.
As his shirt dropped to the floor, he gave me a strange look.
"I just have better control of my body with less clothes on." He said
That's a lie. He probably thinks exposing a lot of his skin is going to distract me.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, beginning to smirk.
"Fat chance... I'm still going to kick your ass." I told him, then I nodded seriously. "Okay, what's your stance?"
He looked at me blankly and then put his fists up, but they were way too low and wouldn't protect anything if someone was really out to get him. I moved toward him, thrusting my fist out in a fluid movement that had him stumbling backwards, out of position quickly, trying to avoid my punch.
"Does that look like a smart stance now?" I asked.
"So what gives?" he asked.
I walked over to him and grabbed his right hand.
"You're right handed, so this fist is farther away from your body, because this is what you'll mostly be punching with. And your left fist is closer to your body, because it's a blocker."
I moved behind him, moving his fists like I said. As I did, he leaned backward, pressing his back into my chest.
"But I don't get it." He asked, looking at me over his shoulder. "You don't stand like this."
He lowered his fists.
"You only have one fist up...and it's not blocking anything."
I rolled my eyes.
"That's because I'm experienced."
"Oh, here we go... All hail Madara time."
I shoved his head forward and he grinned.
"Alright, alright." He said, putting his hands back up. "So now what?"
I grabbed his waist with my right hand as I leaned into him and kicked his right leg out.
"You'll always move with your right leg first." I said.
"Oh... That's why you always look like you're skipping."
"It's called being 'light on your toes'." I corrected him sourly.
"It's called frolicking." He joked.
I smacked him in the back of the head again which caused him to promptly burst into a chain of laughter.
"One more strike, Hashirama, and I won't teach you a damn thing." I muttered.
"Okay, I promise this time!" He said between bursts of laughter.
When he was in a proper stance, I slid my hand over his right fist and pulled it so that he was extending his arm.
"This is the stance for a proper punch. Your head shouldn't be too low and your legs shouldn't be too far apart...unless you want to become sterile."
"Ouch." He said.
"Okay, now come at me."
He grinned, turning around.
"Seriously?" He asked.
I rolled my eyes.
"You're not going to hurt me." I said in a matter of factly tone.
He got into proper stance and moved forward to give me a right hook, I raised my palm to catch it, then he moved his left fist and I closed my other hand around it catching that.
He's not as fast as me but these punches kind of hurt...
I moved slightly quicker, punching at him and he ducked by bending backwards so that my fist went over his body. I took that moment of weakness to punch at his stomach which he tried to avoid by jumping backwards, which did nothing but make him slip and fall right on his ass.
"Whoa, you almost got me." he said, getting to his feet.
"Almost?" I repeated. "I could've creamed you just now if I was serious."
I grabbed his hands putting them back up into position.
"You're never supposed to dodge that way... Unless you're a pro."
"Like you?"
I rolled my eyes and turned him around so that I was behind him again.
"Even I probably couldn't get away with doing that during a real fight." I muttered.
I slid my hands onto his waist right over the belt of his shorts. The position of his body in front of mine made my mind wander certain places but I pulled it back with ease, it was my body that just wouldn't quit.
"When you dodge, you lean forward so that your arms are still in position." I said, pushing him downwards so that he was bent over in front of me.
"That way, you avoid getting your head knocked off and your torso is still protected."
He leaned down again, practicing bending and dodging with my hands on his waist, trying to keep his position level.
"You get what I mean, now?"
I slid the hand on his waist further up and around to his stomach and chest, pulling him back up and against me.
"Because with what you did, I had a perfect shot at punching your guts out." I explained, tapping my hand against his stomach.
"I think I get it." He said, lowering his arms. "But can I ask you something?"
Why do I feel like he's going to say something ridiculous?
He turned his neck, grinning at me.
"Do you have something in your pockets or are you just really comfortable right now?" He asked, edging on giggles.
I shoved him away from me.
"THAT'S IT! I TOLD you that you had ONE last chance!" I shouted at him.
He collapsed back onto the carpet, bursting with laugher.
"Why can't you answer the question?"
Because I don't have anything in my pockets.
Instead of responding, I jumped on him, pinning him to the floor with one hand and raising a fist above his face.
"I can kick your ass at any moment, Hashi. Don't forget that."
"I'm so scared!" he said sarcastically.
"I'm not joking!" I yelled at him.
Suddenly, he moved, grabbing my fist and slamming me down into the carpet next to him. I was completely off guard, even though I thought I had him completely pinned down, and the next thing I knew he'd gotten the leverage to roll over me.
"You talk so damn big but you bite like a freaking puppy!" he said, pinning my wrists down and giggling.
He's stronger than he looks...
I frowned, finding it truly hard to get out of his grip.
"Let me up." I finally said.
He smirked at me.
"Say the magic words."
"Screw you." I retorted.
"Bingo." He said.
With his face so close to mine, almost to the point I had to cross my eyes to look at him. I expected he would kiss me. Actually, I was certain he would kiss me. I pushed my legs up against him to get him to stay away from me and was surprised when it worked. He raised himself higher and stopped pinning my wrists down.
This is so strange... Why isn't he being as impulsive as before...?
"Five second rule!" A high pitched voice exclaimed as the backdoor burst open. "I saw it first!"
My body instinctively tensed and I sat up, almost hitting my head on Hashirama's.
"Itama, by the time you get out of your chair and crawl to that cookie on the floor, I'll already be crapping it out." A white haired boy who followed him said.
As the younger one rolled in and the older one walked in, their eyes skimmed over us as they talked to each other but they were too distracted to bother questioning anything.
"Boys, help me with the bags!" A woman's voice went on as she entered the room. "And where's Hashirama? Hashi-"
She froze as her eyes fell on me. I couldn't blame her for stopping. Hashirama was still partly leaning over me and one of my hands was on his chest, trying to push him off.
Not to mention the fact that he's shirtless...
Hashirama got to his feet and helped me up, grinning.
"Madara was teaching me boxing stuff." He said to who I assumed was his stepmother who was still staring at us.
Itama's ears perked up.
"Groovy!" he exclaimed. "Can I learn?"
"Maybe if you sit on my shoulders." Hashirama joked.
"Help me get the rest of the bags." She said to him.
"Gotcha squared." He told her as he jumped over the coffee table and slid across the counter.
Tobirama went after him with Itama rolling quickly after him.
"That reminds me, could you stop leaving your crappy underwear in my pillow case!?" He hollered, as they entered the garage.
Hashirama burst into laughter.
"Dude, I've been doing that since you were born and you just now realized it?"
"Did you do it to my pillow, too?" Itama asked.
"I do way worse to you!" he yelled.
"...Like WHAT?!"
All of their voices trailed off as they left the house. I walked around the coffee table, about to go after them when she cleared her throat. I paused, looking at her.
"So, you box, huh?" she asked.
I nodded. She flicked her hair over her shoulder.
"Interesting."
"Yeah." I said, going toward the backdoor again.
"I wonder..." she started up again. "Do you get a lot of attention at school? Playing such a cool sport?"
"I don't play it for school." I told her. "Just for recreation."
"Recreation, huh?" she asked, taking some vegetables out of the brown grocery bags. "Do any of the girls in your class appreciate your...recreation?"
I turned around to see her giving me a huge smile.
"Sorry, if I'm intruding." She said, beginning to giggle. "But isn't boxing one of those sports that attract a lot of fangirls?"
I shrugged.
"I'm not too interested in girls right now." I explained. "So, I wouldn't know."
Her smiled faded quickly and all the giggles were gone quicker than lightning. She picked up her knife and began slicing red peppers on a cutting board.
"I see." Was all she said.
Suddenly, a burst of noise filled the kitchen as Hashirama and his brothers ran back in each carrying bags.
"Put them on that counter over there." She said.
"Mom, cook Lasagna." Tobirama ordered as he helped set the bags on the counter.
"I was thinking we could have-" Hashirama spoke up.
Tobirama put his finger up, silencing him.
"No." he interrupted, then he pointed at his mother. "Lasagna, Mom. Now."
I watched as Hashirama hunched his shoulders and pouted, or pretended to pout. I knew well enough by then not to believe anything he tried to do.
"Okay, Tobi, just give me a second to get myself together." His Mother said, not even finding it strange at all that her thirteen year old son had just talked to her like she was an infant.
Pretty obvious who's calling the shots around this house...
On the other side of the counter, Hashirama pulled his t-shirt back on and slipped his feet into a pair of sandals by the door.
"Let's go, Mada. Didn't you say you had to get there early for warm-ups?" Hashirama asked me.
"Yeah, in like four hours." I muttered, following after him.
"Then, we'll be extra early!" he said, pushing the screen door opening and hopping onto the concrete outside.
As I caught his door, turning to close it behind me, I caught his stepmother gazing at me.
I don't know what it was... Maybe... The way she pursued her lips, narrowed her eyes and gripped that knife as she stared me down... But I got a really strong feeling that woman didn't like me.
She dropped the kitchen knife from where she held it up and cut cleanly through the other vegetables, hacking them down...one by one by one...
Hashirama
Imperfection, Flaws, We're Not God
I grabbed the first bar of the monkey bars and put my feet through the space in the bars so that I could use my legs to hang upside down.
"Can you do a back flip?" I asked as my shirt fell down almost over my face. "I can land like two in a row."
Madara made a face at my bare chest and walked up to tuck my shirt back into my pants.
"Stop bragging. And do I look like a gymnast?" He asked.
"You do look kinda girlie." I offered.
He slapped my cheek but not hard enough to leave a mark. Speaking of marks, the one on Madara's neck was just beginning to fade.
"Did your parents say anything about that?" I asked him.
He kicked at the playground woodchips underneath me.
"My Father mentioned it." He said, walking over to the swing set which was right next to the monkey bars.
We were at a plain old local park. It wasn't groovy at all, just your average run of the mill playground at the back of a church. The large bell over the catholic cathedral tolled and people walked in and out. From the position I was, upside down, I kept imagining they'd fall off of the world and into space.
"Hashi..." Madara spoke up in that tone that made me know he was serious. "What would you do if your Mom suddenly came home with bruises from her second job?"
I pulled myself up and through the space between two of the bars and swung over so that I was lying atop them.
"You mean, like, someone was hitting her?" I asked him. "Call the police, I suppose."
"You believe the police will do something?"
I shrugged.
"What else is there to do?"
"You ever figure taking matters into your own hands?"
I laughed.
"Like a criminal? I think I'll pass."
The church bell continued to chime. Men in suits and women in prim and proper rosey pink or snow white dresses entered carrying their bibles.
"Do you really think criminals are the only ones who are extreme?" he asked.
I paused, watching all the people and truly thinking about it.
"...Can I tell you the truth?" I asked him.
He had been looking down at the woodchips but with that question, he turned his head up and his eyes made contact with mine.
"All the stuff I normally say... About keeping the peace through being a humanitarian. I believe it. No doubt, I truly believe it but..."
I lowered my head.
"I don't know if I really practice what I preach." I confessed. "I mean, if I was put in the situation, I honestly think I'd destroy whatever is in my path to do what I think is right. Even if that meant kicking someone's ass from here to freaking Timbuktu for ever thinking they could put their hands on someone I care about."
"That's just like 'killing the evil', right?" He asked.
"Or killing what I think is evil. Honestly, that word 'evil' and the other one 'good' are nothing more than our own twisted self-perception. Saints and sinners both live within humans. And God and the Devil came from the same heaven."
"The same heaven, huh?" Madara repeated, then he smirked. "I'm always kind of surprised by how much I underestimate you."
Then he rolled his eyes.
"You should stop acting like such an idiot all the time."
"Never." I replied.
We both turned our heads to the chiming church, a low humming tune began to sound. It didn't take long for me to recognize the song.
Swing low, Sweet chariot... Coming for to carry me home.
I smiled down at the Tenor I singing voice coming from below me and dropped down from the monkey bars.
"You can sing!" I discovered.
"We used to play this song, too." Madara told me.
I walked up behind him, grabbing the iron, chains of the swing he was sitting in and looking down at him.
"Which one of the church songs was your favorite?" I asked.
He frowned.
"None of them." He muttered. "All of the happy ones were annoying to play and all of the serious ones were friggin' depressing."
I pushed the swing causing him to drift slightly.
"Well what were your family's favorites?"
"When it came to church songs, my brothers and mom really liked 'Little David play on your harp'" he told me. "And with regular songs, 'My girl' was their favorite."
"What about your Dad?" I asked as I pushed him.
"He didn't play any instruments. He thought they were a waste of time." He said tonelessly.
"Killer." I muttered. "What got up his overalls?"
"Shit if I know." He said. "He's always been distant."
"I thought you liked your Dad." I said.
He raised his head to me.
"What would make you think that?"
I laughed.
"Because you always trash your Mom. But you don't say anything about him."
Kind of like a process of elimination. He talked about everyone except that man. That could've been a bad thing though if Madara didn't talk poorly about everyone he ever mentioned.
He said nothing, continuing to swing as I pushed him. Then slowly he looked back up at me, large, dark eyes so very catching on the pale canvas of his face. Like a painting.
"I thought the same thing about your Mother. That you rarely talk about her so she has to be pretty lousy." He said, then he shook his head. "I used to really like my father."
"Used to?"
He shrugged.
"I guess I just don't see this world as selfish and malicious as I did before... So I have no use admiring someone who does."
I grinned leaning down over his face.
"Could it really be? Thomas Hobbes is shedding his skin!"
He sucked his teeth and pushed me away from him.
"Did your father do something you didn't like?" I asked, plopping down into the swing next to him but facing the opposite direction.
He said nothing, seeming to struggle to put his thoughts into words.
I was putting the pieces together kinda slow but it was falling into place anyway. He had mentioned his father once before unprovoked. During that same conversation when he said his father notices his bruises, and then after that, he asked what I'd do if my Mom ever came home with bruises... Initially, I had just seen it as a weird metaphor he was trying to create but suddenly...
"Is your Dad...hard on you?" I found myself asking.
He shook his head.
"Your brothers?"
He shook his head again.
"It's your Mom, then?"
He was silent. I picked some of the woodchips up off the ground and flicked them.
"It's always been like that though." He finally said. "Even before we started doing the stupid church band thing."
He sighed.
"And it didn't really stop there. My brothers used to talk a lot about him with other women."
I flicked more chips.
"So, I guess he was a dog, too." He muttered.
It was silent for a moment before I spoke.
"You thought what your Father was doing was right?"
He looked down for a moment and then shook his head.
"I don't know. I didn't really think it was wrong. I guess I just accepted it. I didn't really think anything about it."
"But what do you think now?"
He sucked his teeth again and got up from the swing set.
"I don't feel sorry for that woman... That's for sure."
I didn't have any reason to make him feel sorry for her. It was his Mother afterall. His life. But his anger toward her made me think of something else.
"My Stepmom was sort of similar to your Mom for a while." I told him.
He stood still, showing he was listening.
"I never mentioned this... None of us really mention it but... When my father had just met Hisa and I was almost a year and a half old, they were due to have a baby." I explained. "But something happened with the pregnancy. Maybe a result of all the dormant radiation poisoning? None of us really know, but he was born dead... His name would've been Kawarama. And for a pretty long time, Hisa was depressed like that."
"Kawarama? Like the dolphin, right?" Madara mumbled.
I nodded.
"When I got older, my Dad mentioned a few times that she got all into drugs around that time and wouldn't even take care of me." I laughed, not really sure why. "Leaving me in my shitty diaper for hours. But then, later she got pregnant and had Tobirama, and she was a lot happier since he was fine."
"That's interesting." He said.
He was still facing forward so I couldn't see the expression on his face but for a strange reason he seemed rigid. Then he turned around, giving me a matter of factly look.
"I hope you're not suggesting my Mother has another child."
"If you want to give up your mondo cool room that you don't have to share." I joked.
He rolled his eyes.
"That woman is older than dirt. If the pregnancy alone doesn't kill her, it'll probably be the actual process."
I burst into laughter, nudging him.
"You're such an asshole."
We stood up. I slid my hands into the pockets of my shorts as we left the playground. The bright, blue sky overhead reminded me of pictures I'd seen of vacations getaways and resorts. I lowered the sunglasses Madara had given me onto my eyes. I had been carrying them around mostly everywhere I went.
"But you know..." Madara started up again. "If you're actually serious about saying that you don't really 'practice what you preach' then wouldn't that mean you gave up on believing?"
I shook my head.
"Locke understood the world." I explained to him. "He understood that evil and pain and selfishness exist, but he believed humans could learn to live without it. I still believe that. I still believe humans are worth being around. I believe in love and friendship and comrades... But it's just that..."
I looked up at him and shrugged.
"I guess it just takes a really strong person to be able to be the change they want to see in the world. I just... I don't know if I can be that strong of a person."
"Spoken like a true philosopher." He said, fitting his own sunglasses over his eyes. "So, murder is still within the realm of things you could do?"
I didn't even hesitate.
"Everything is possible when it comes to humans." I told him.
"But murder, though?"
I smiled at him.
"If you want me to say that one day you'll see me in 'Nam or wherever else we'll invade next with an AK on my back and a magazine over my shoulder, you're barking up the wrong tree, dude."
Then I shrugged.
"You can't really know what you'll be capable of until it happens. Maybe in another dimension, it's even possible that I could kill you." I said, laughing.
He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, right. The whole planet would be on the brink of destruction before you could ever kill me."
"Same here!"
But somehow, as I considered the possibility of an alternate timeline existing, I was pretty sure that in every single dimension there was, evil or no evil, I was connected to him. It was almost like a given.
As we neared the church, and walked past it, the music inside floated out to us, getting louder.
"Do you think there will be someone one day who will be able to 'practice what they preach'?" I asked him.
"Do you?" He returned.
"That's what the Locke philosophy is all about! I mean, we may not be that strong, but someone could be. That's why we have to have hope in humanity." I grasped his hand. "That's why you have to continue believing along with me."
"Wango." Madara said in more of a sarcastic tone than seriously.
I sighed.
"I'm over here actually being serious for once..."
"I'm just kidding, okay? I get you." He said, glancing at me. "You're imperfect. You have flaws. We all do. Really, none of us are God... So instead of pretending like you are and preaching all over the place, you should just accept what you're not and live life."
I smiled. If there was anything I really, really seriously liked about Madara was how firmly on the same page he was with me. All the time.
"Totally zen, brother." I agreed.
We continued walking silently. The volume of the music in the church near us attracted Madara's attention. He turned and then a subtle smile crossed his lips.
"...I remember now." He said. "This was my favorite song from church."
The low hum of 'Amazing Grace' lifted up and over us like doves fluttering their wings to the bright blue sky beyond...content with just being as imperfect as they were.
Up Next: Now that Hashirama's finished questioning his Mother and Madara's finished questioning his Father, both of them firmly decide which they'd rather have 'each other's love or the acceptance of society' next time! And it gets HEAVY. Also...a new character is introduced!? You don't miss this new little princess's debut! She has a lot to offer!