Hashirama
Talking Doesn't Work Here
"Just my freaking luck..." I whispered under my breath.
I wrapped around the corner of the library, jumping over pets and running around people and dodging other hazards. I honestly shouldn't have been surprised. For the past two days, I had been walking home instead of riding the bus, cutting through backyard and creeks and even in one circumstance, hiding in the bed of a truck. And in every case, I just barely made it away from these three idiots alive. The same freaking guys, too. It was like they were my own personal grim reapers or something.
I looked over my shoulder at the three figures rushing at me, not too far behind at all, and cut behind the building, deciding to make my escape down the backsteps. But let's just pause for a second. Pause, with me running as fast as I can toward the steps, which are pretty slick because it just rained, toward a back alley where virtually no one passed through, and just remember what I said before... That stairs are my natural enemy.
Yeah, it was a total black saber. I honestly thought I heard animals crying for me. But that might've been because I hit my head really hard on the last step and my ears were ringing... Ringing... Ringing... Like when I called Madara's house. Strangely, it reminded me of the fact that Madara hadn't been in school for days and no one knew where the hell he disappeared off to. A good amount of me worried he'd asked to be transferred to another school. Even though I tried to ignore him as best as I could to give him the space I knew he deserved, I still really enjoyed his presence. It really, really bothered me to think I'd never be able to see him regularly again. But I couldn't understand why it should? After everything that had happened...
I blinked up at the sky. A cool chill blew by, shaking the tree next to me and making the leaves spin down toward me. I suddenly felt peaceful. Like I'd be content lying there forever. Then again, it could've just been my sore back and ass making me not want to move. And anyway, I didn't have a choice. Three pairs of hockey masks suddenly blocked my view.
"Got him!"" The one with the green zip up jacket said as he leaned down over me, pressing my arms to the ground.
The one wearing the t-shirt laughed.
"I honestly thought we were never gonna get him, man. Guy's like a fuckin' squirrel."
The one in the middle, with the green hoodie, snapped his fingers at them.
"Shut your mouths."
I don't know what it was. Something about his mannerisms. But I felt like he was incredibly familiar. He slowly bent over me. I winced, preparing for punch but it wasn't delivered. Instead, he reached into his back pocket quickly and the next thing I knew, something cold and metallic was pressed against my cheek.
"This is gonna be my pleasure." He said.
"Hey, that's not orders." Said the one holding my arms down. "Stay on track, we're supposed to-"
"Fuck orders!" he said, raising the gun into the air and pulling the trigger.
If you've ever heard a gunshot go off that close to you, it's not pretty. Honestly, I'd have shat myself right there if I hadn't been too busy hiding in the bathroom during lunch period to eat.
"Veg out, dude!" the one in the green t-shirt yelled. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"Y-Yeah, man... Come on listen to him. Just calm down..." I stammered, not able to take my eyes off the barrel of the gun.
"Shut the FUCK up!" He screamed at me.
I moved my head to the right, pretending to be eagerly struggling to get the gun out of my face while simultaneously measuring the strength of the one above me.
"You're going to get us all-" The green jacket tried again.
"I don't give a shit!" he shouted at him, looking away from me. "They're not my fucking orders! I have my own reasons!"
Before the green jacket could protest, I pulled my arms up, grabbing the underside of green jacket's mask and dislodging it. I could see a flourish of chocolate brown hair but I couldn't concentrate because I was too busy rolling up onto my palms and using my feet to kick the one with the gun away from me.
He stumbled away from me, almost falling over the untied shoe laces of his high top baby blue converse sneakers. I darted at him, cocking my fist back to punch him in the face. Just for reassurance purposes, really. He was the only one with the gun. But as he straightened himself up, I realized it. Almost like a stroke of lightning.
I froze, standing up straighter.
"Wait... I... I think I know you."
I reached out, grabbing his mask but before I could lift it off, the one behind me grabbed my arms and he backed away.
"You think, faggot?" He spat.
And then it was certain. It was like a record playing over again in my head. That word. That voice. I knew exactly who he was. And then I realized how bad the situation was for me... Because I could never hurt him.
"Listen up, you fucking fag." He said, shoving the gun onto my forehead. "There's a million other people in the world, so why'd you have to go fuck with him, huh?"
I stared him down and said nothing. I didn't really think I could say anything. His voice became tearful. Heart-wrenchingly so. And it reminded me so much of Itama.
"Why couldn't you just leave him alone?" He asked again.
The boy with the green t-shirt behind him scratched his hair awkwardly and turned around as his voice shook over into sobs.
"Why'd you have to turn him into a faggot like you?!" He yelled.
"I didn't turn him into anything." I told him.
He pressed the gun against my head harder.
"Just shut up and listen me, okay?" He ordered. "I won't blow your friggin' brains out through the back of your head if you do what I say."
I watched him, curious about what kind of ultimatum he could possibly be interested in giving me.
"I want you to call him and tell him you hate him and you never want to see him again." He told me. "And I want that to be the last time you ever call him or talk about him or even look at him ever again for as long as you live."
The breeze blew by again. He lowered the gun from my face. I whipped my hair out of my eyes.
"I'm...sorry." I finally said. "I didn't mean to mess up your life or anything."
I smiled sheepishly.
"I honestly didn't realize how many people it would affect when I made the decision I did..."
He stared at me. They all did. Not because they cared about what I was saying. They were all probably waiting for me to agree to his ultimatum.
"I hope you can forgive me but..." I looked down. "I... I can't agree to that."
"Why not?!" He yelled. "Why?!"
I looked at him fully.
"Because... If you want me to call him and tell him that then it must mean there's a possibility that he wants to see me again, right?"
Even though he was wearing a mask, I could almost sense his eyebrows jumping up into his hair.
"Because if he didn't, I wouldn't need to tell him that. It wouldn't even matter." I explained.
All he really did was tell me Madara might actually... Actually have wanted me back. But still, somehow, that felt like a fat chance.
"It's all your fault!" he shouted at me, raising the gun again. "He used to be normal before you...you..."
His voice shook, he sounded like he was sobbing again.
"You don't want to kill me." I said to him. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone. You're a good kid. And... You really, really care about Madara, don't you?"
He paused gazing at me.
"You're probably just...hurt and confused because you think this... What happened between us. Is going to make Madara a target. Make people hate him. Maybe even make people try to kill him." I went on. "But threatening me isn't going to help him either."
I nodded at the kid in the green t-shirt next to him.
"You should question the people that sent you here. Who's more likely to hurt Madara? Me...or them?"
He slowly looked at them both.
"The guy's bullshitting, man! We all care about Madara. Care about him enough not to turn him into a perverted weirdo!" the one in the green shirt said.
"If you really cared about him, you'd realize that it's best to let go of him." Said the one holding my arms back. "Forever."
I shook my head.
"I can't do that." I repeated.
The one with the gun looked at me for a long time and then said.
"We're peeling out."
The other two stared at him, seemingly in awe but he balled his fists and turned to me.
"But first..."
And then, before I could move or say anything he punched me really hard in the gut. I tried to pull my arms away but, with faster reflexes than I could've predicted, the one behind me got me in a headlock as the one with the gun cocked his fist back and punched me in the gut again. My knees buckled. I gasped for air, feeling like I was literally going to suffocate. He really had an arm on him.
"Come on." He said, snapping his fingers at the other two. "Help me kick his ass."
The one holding my arms back shoved me to the ground and then they all pounced on me, kicking me in the stomach and the back and periodically, the face. I literally could do nothing but curl up into a ball and wonder how it happened. I mean, I seriously thought I won. I had a better speech than the other guy, didn't I? I guess in real life, words can't save you from an ass kicking...
"You wanna be a girl? Why don't you look like one then?" The green hoodie asked as he pulled something out of his pocket.
They held me down as they scribbled with it across my face. And during all that, with their masks looming over me, I was revisited with that thought again. What if my hunch was right? And Madara really was interested in me still? I couldn't deny that the thought made me happy... Unbelievably happy, even while I was getting my head bashed into the sidewalk by someone who was undoubtedly at least four years younger than me.
When they were finished jumping on me. The ring leader pointed at something I couldn't see and the one with a t-shirt on snickered and they all dragged me toward the opposite side of the alley. Then, while I lay there, they picked up one of the garbage cans and turned it over on me, spilling gallons of awful, putrid smelling crap all over me.
I rose my head, moving a carton of rotten milk out of my hair and smirked.
"Garbage?" I asked mockingly. "And I thought you guys had more in you."
The one with the gun turned around and lunged at me, delivering a kick straight into my balls. Hell, the kick went through my freaking balls. I rolled over, deciding it'd be best not to talk for the rest of my life as the one with a t-shirt on grabbed my hair.
"Remember how that feels the next time you wanna get a hard-on around a guy, you pervert."
They ran away then, probably pretty certain I was going to be down for a while, which I was. It felt like hours passed before I felt like I could get to my feet. And the walk home... Don't even get me started. Those punches and kicks hurt pretty bad when they were given, but the aftertaste was much, much worse. Every step felt like my body was falling apart.
But I wasn't too far away from home. I was still in walking distance. And fifteen minutes later, I was able to push open the front door of my house where... Just because of my terrible, luck, Itama and Tobirama were in the front room, probably just about to be driven to little league practice by Hisa and, not surprisingly, Mito was sitting on the couch, watching television. Unsurprisingly because even though I'd only re-met Mito earlier that week, she had shown up on my doorstep and came in every day. Most of the time, she came in with my Stepmother's permission and not mine, seeing as how I was too busy trying to escape death to be home on time.
"Mom, did you remember to buy juice for the team?" Tobirama asked.
Hisa smacked her hand to her head.
"I thought you said that was Friday."
"Mom, I clearly said this morning-"
But as I stepped into the house all conversation ceased. Everyone just looked at me. I didn't know how I looked. But it must've been pretty bad. And they were all completely silent.
"My God, Hashirama! What happened to you?" Hisa exclaimed.
"Nothing just, these guys... They've just been..." I shook my head again, seriously unsure how to lie. "It's nothing."
"He's lying, Mom." Tobirama said.
Everyone's eyes turned to him. His fists balled and his bottom lip curled as he pointed at me.
"Hashirama's been acting like an idiot, so the whole freakin' town is against him now."
"What?!" Hisa exclaimed.
"And because of that, all my friends at school hate me and Izuna won't even look at me anymore."
Mito, who had been playing a clapping game with Itama, raised her eyebrows at me. I raised my hands up.
"...What are you talking about Tobi?"
He stared at me. I stared at him. Like I said, before Madara, Tobirama was the only other person in my life who could consistently see past my bullshit. See when I was lying. See when I was crying. See when I was in pain. And see what I wanted more than anything else in the world at a moment. Mostly, he used that to torture me. But when he saw I was really serious... Very rarely, he would...
"Hashirama will tell you when he wants to... I guess..." He muttered, turning around, picking up his little league bag and walking toward the backdoor.
It was silent. And then, slowly, Itama lifted his hand and pointed at me.
"...Mom, what does 'faggot' mean?"
And it wasn't until then that I glanced at the mirror on the wall near the front door and saw it there, written across my face in lipstick.
"Come on, Itama. Let's go get you in the car." Mito said quickly, pulling him onto her back and walking around the couch.
Hisa was the only one left in the room. She leaned back against the island. I looked at her. She breathed deeply.
"Okay... Don't worry. People are going to be idiots, alright? We'll get through this."
I stared at her.
"Hisa... What do you mean?"
"I mean, misunderstandings happen all the time." She said, giving me a serious look.
I lowered my head.
"Hisa, but I... I'm not sure if-"
"All we have to do is go to the school and tell that principal of yours to do his damn job and-"
"But Hisa, I-"
"And then find that Madara kid and tell him stay the fuck away from this house and never-"
"HISA!" I shouted.
She paused, biting her lip, averting her eyes from me, pacing. I knew she didn't want to hear what I was about to say. Hell, I didn't even want to hear it. But I couldn't keep lying to her. Not if she was going to put the blame on every single person except the one whose fault it really is...
"Hisa, it's not his fault!" I shouted at her. "He didn't even want to... I was the one who-"
She put her hands on my shoulders.
"Hashirama, no." she said. "You're just confused. I knew hanging around with that boy was going to be bad for you. There's just something off about him... I should've known-"
"I kissed him!" I said.
She shut up then. Just staring at me. My chest rose and fell with how heavily I was breathing. It was so much just to say that one sentence.
"I kissed him, Hisa... And..." I took another deep breath. "And I'd do it again."
She shook her head.
"Stop playing around, Hashirama. This isn't a game!"
"I'm not playing!" I yelled, then, trying to collect myself I lowered my voice. "Listen to me, Hisa. When I asked you about queers before it was because...I... I think, maybe, I might be a-"
But before I could get my last words out, she pulled her hand back whipping it firmly across my face. Of everything that happened that day, rolling down the concrete stairs, getting punched and kicked and stepped on and beaten and bruises and even getting my balls kicked in half... That slap. That one. It was the worst. I hadn't realized it until then but... I really trusted my stepmother. I trusted her enough to try and tell her something so embarrassing and she...she stomped on it.
She gripped my shoulders hard, shaking me slightly, and put her finger in my face as my cheek, which were previous red from the embarrassment of my confession, had begun to redden with stinging pain.
"Don't you ever say that again."
Her voice was threatening, in a way I'd never heard it before.
"Or you'll be sleeping on the fucking streets."
And even though she'd never cursed at me before or threatened me before or even hit or shaken before, that wasn't what surprised me. It was how quickly she pulled herself together, putting her hair back into place like nothing happened and straightened my shirt, where she'd wrinkled it, even though it was already stained with trash and probably some of my blood. And then, she glanced at her watch, eyebrows raising slightly.
"Tobi's going to be late. We'll talk about how to fix your little issue when I come back." She said, pulling her jacket off the table. "In the meantime, why don't you go find out what a girl feels like."
She walked toward the door, as usual, leaving the vital shinning piece of metal on the counter.
"Hisa..." I whispered, pulling the keys up.
She turned, managing to smile softly as she reached for them and took them.
"Thank You, honey." She told me. "Remember, I'm doing this because I love you."
I watched her turn and leave.
"I love you, too..."
I stood there for a while and then I walked around to the couch and plopped down in it, just staring at the television, which was still on, buzzing sounds and words and talking people. Things my brain couldn't process.
"Hashirama?"
I had completely forgotten Mito was still around. I turned, offering her my widest smile.
"Hey."
She slid down onto the couch next to me.
"Feeling okay?"
"Yeah, perfect." I told her, nodding along with my words.
"Well, you smell like rotten eggs, so I don't think it's completely perfect."
I laughed, getting up.
"I'll go fix that."
She grasped my hand.
"When you come back, we're gonna leave."
I raised my eyebrows.
"And go where?"
She shrugged.
"Just to hang out. Somehow, I feel like you need a break."
"A break sounds so rad right about now..." I agreed, smiling.
But as I walked, taking every step farther away from her and anyone else that could see me and toward the bathroom, my smile faded, my eyes lowered, my body felt heavy and pained again. I lifted my eyes to the person in the mirror. Looked at what was etched onto his forehead and pushed my finger against the mirror.
"You can't be like this." I said quietly. "You have to try to change..."
Madara
Waking Up From The Dead
I stared up at the ceiling strumming the cords on my guitar. A low, serene song sounded. I hummed along with it, not feeling the strength to actually sing.
"Madara!" a voice exclaimed.
I rolled over, watching the door swing open.
"Where the hell is your brother?" My mother asked me, holding a basket of laundry.
Oh, surprise... She's actually cleaning for once.
"Hell if I know." I mumbled.
But I do know... Right about now, he's probably been turned into a forced puppet by Danzo. Another person I threw under the bus to save my own ass...
I turned on my guitar, returning to the beginning of the song I'd been playing. She walked over to me, dropping a stack of folded clothes directly on my face like that was the proper place for them.
"What are you doing!?" I exclaimed, shoving them away.
"Trying to snap you out of this ridiculous depressed slump you're suddenly in."
I rolled my eyes, picking my t-shirts and underwear off my guitar.
"No one's depressed."
She snapped her fingers in my face.
"Excuse me? Izuna's the most important person to you in the world and you just told me, you don't give a damn where he is."
"I said I didn't know." I corrected her.
"Yeah, with an 'I don't give a damn' attitude." She pointed out.
I'm so not in the mood for this woman's mouth.
"What's your point, Mother?" I asked.
She crossed her arms.
"Everyone gets depressed, Madara. But the point is that you're supposed to get back up after you fall down."
"Yeah, because you're so knowledgeable about that..." I muttered.
She reached over, not even hesitating to slap me across my mouth. I didn't even react to it. She probably thought she hit me pretty hard but it wasn't like she was a man or anything.
She's getting so damn happy slapping me lately. She's lucky I'm not my father...
"I'm not taking any of your bullshit sarcastic smartass remarks tonight, Madara." She said, picking up the laundry basket. "Now, get the fuck out of this goddamn bed!"
"Leave me alone." I mumbled.
She rolled her eyes.
"Isn't boxing all about getting the shit knocked out of you but still getting back on your feet to win the match?" she called over her shoulder as she walked out. "Like that match you just barely won the other day."
My fingers stuttered on the guitar strings. My heart skipped a beat. I felt the sweat prickling on the back of my neck.
...What? How... How would she know what happened at that match?
I pushed the guitar to my right and sat up in bed. My bones cracked just as a reminder of how long I'd been lying down. I barely even got up to eat after I told off Danzo and the rest of them. And I'd been skipping school. I hadn't been within a mile of the place for days.
Hashirama... Could you have been right?
I couldn't bring myself to be there and see what was happening to him anymore. If I did, I'd be forced to fucking kill some damn body, no fake. I was sick and tired of living a lie. The only thing was... I wasn't sure if I could do that. If it was my place anymore. I doubted he even wanted my help.
I got to my feet and pulled a fresh towel off of the top of the stack and headed to the bathroom between my room and Izuna's room that we shared. Strangely, on the counter next to the sink, the hockey mask I normally wore to do stuff with the gang was lying there along with my Mother's vial of lipstick. I stared at it for a moment, trying to come to conclusions, reach answers to questions I hadn't even asked but my brain wouldn't allow me to do it.
Shower first... Then deal with this fucked up kid.
The warm steam whooshed over me, relaxing my bones, cooling off my thoughts, creating comfortable ripples in my mind. I found the bar of soap on the ledge and mixed it in with my washcloth.
Even though, I thought I'd never say this in my life... That woman might be right...
My Mother. I wasn't stupid. I was noticing the changes in her but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of letting her know I noticed it. She didn't deserve a second chance. She didn't deserve forgiveness. Not for the years she abandoned me and Izuna and even Tsubasa.
I lathered the soap over myself until I was completely covered and then my thoughts started to take a different direction, as they had recently begun to do whenever I was in the shower.
I imagined being at the beach. I imagined being on top of that death trap train. I imagined walking through the cemetery, putting flowers on Tsubasa's grave. I imagined all of these things with Hashirama beside me, holding my hand, touching my body, kissing my lips... My fingers extended momentarily trying to grasp at those day dreams, everything I was imagining, they reached out and out but when they closed around nothing, they lowered... Lowered onto the only other thing that was also reaching out.
After that, which didn't really take too long at all considering I was doing nothing but sitting in bed thinking about him all day in the first place, I pulled a pair of underwear and an old pair of cotton black shorts on and continued drying my chest and hair as I left the bathroom and made my way down the stairs.
My Mother looked up only slightly interested as I walked into the living room, where for once she was cleaning the couch cushions instead of sitting on them, and nodded at me.
"Great... Now all I have to do is get you to take your ass back to school." She muttered. "Thought I didn't notice?"
"It was obvious that you noticed, Mother. You came in to complain to me about it only every hour."
She crossed her arms and looked at me for a moment.
"So, what's up with all this 'queer' business?" she asked me.
I raised my eyes to her. She sure didn't waste any time to shut me down.
"Don't give me that look. I know what's going on." She said. "You know if Izuna knows something, the whole world knows."
...Izuna knows?
She turned around, picking up a blanket out of the laundry basket and motioning to me to help her fold it.
"I don't know what it is about that boy that has you so..." she paused, shaking her head. "But if not having him around is going to lock you up in your room, crying over Stevie Wonder all day-"
"I never cry." I interjected. "And I was playing John Lennon."
"Whatever!" she said, exasperatedly. "It's obvious that you care about him, so when are you going to go run back over to his house and stop acting like a depressed housewife?"
I said nothing, folding the sheet with her and grabbing the next one. She continued giving me a knowing look. And after deciding it wouldn't matter if I told her anyway, I sighed.
"Everyone in school hates him. It could even be the whole city. He gets picked on and made fun of everyday and instead of being there for him, I... I left him to rot." I said to her. "I betrayed him... That's all."
"So you went turn-coat and sold the guy out, big deal. He probably would've done the same thing if it was the other way around."
I frowned.
"No, he wouldn't have. I know he wouldn't have. He would've stuck with me for as long as he lived, no matter what people said. He's just that kind of guy. And unlike me, he's actually a good person. Unlike me, he...he..." I shook my head, pausing.
"Does he love you?"
Her question threw me off. Strangely, I found I couldn't look up at her.
I wasn't sure before if she really knew all the details... What people were saying about us. But this question...
I just shrugged.
"If he loves you, it doesn't matter. He'll forgive you."
"I don't care if he forgives me or not. Either way, I just want him to know that I...that I..." I sighed, catching myself about to say something incredibly embarrassing. "Just that I'm sorry, I guess. I just want to tell him I'm sorry."
"Then what are you waiting for, Madara?" she asked, pulling the blanket from me. "Go apologize to him, make up, be happy and go the fuck back to school already."
I couldn't help but feel amused.
Honestly, when people say I'm similar to my Mother, I want to wring their neck... But now, even though it's freaky creepy, I'm beginning to see it...
I nodded, turning back toward the staircase.
"...Alright." I agreed.
As my feet padded along toward the stairs, a thought crossed my mind.
I seriously told my Mother what was truly on my mind for the first time in my life, probably, and she actually gave me advice...?
I glanced back at her folding the blankets.
...And it actually might have been good advice?
I cocked my head, interested in asking her a final question.
"Mother?"
"Hmm?" she asked, looking up.
"...What do you think my relationship is with Hashirama?" I asked her.
She stared at me for a moment and then shook her head, turning back to her sheets.
"Madara, let's just keep it on a don't ask, don't tell basis." She told me.
Yup. That's my Mother...
Hashirama
Mito's Ideals
"I got a full house." I said, putting all my cards out.
"Again!?" A boy with dark hair exclaimed.
"So unfair!" Another girl yelled, throwing her cards out.
"I knew this would happen." The last boy said. "We shouldn't let you play poker with us anymore, Hashirama. You're like a gambling God."
Mito laughed, putting her hands around all the chips and pulling them toward me.
"Five bucks each guys, come on." She said.
They all sighed but passed her the money she bet, which she appropriately passed to me. I grinned.
"Sorry." I said, shrugging sheepishly. "I was like born with a deck in my hand. There's no two ways about it."
They all shined me off, cracking jokes about how it was more like I was born with a cheat card than anything. I hadn't seen them in a pretty long time either. But back before the busing system, they were all I really had.
"Yo, pass the cigs this way, Homura." Mito said, tapping the table.
"Get yer own!" He told her.
"Quit being a turkey and hand them over." Koharu said, jumping on his back and successfully knocking the pack of cigs out of his hand which slid across the floor.
They touched Onoki's feet who picked them up, smirking.
"You know, I think we should quit smoking guys."
"Wet blanket alert!" Mito shouted. "Hurry cover your ears!"
Everyone quickly slapped their palms to their ears as Onoki went on.
"I'm serious guys, I think it's bad-"
"Lalalalalala!" The three of them hollered at him.
But they were all incredibly different from before. For one, Onoki loved smoking. There we even times he loved it more than Mito. And that was saying a lot. But at one point, his mother got hospitalized for some lung disease and he swore up and down, it was because of the cigs even though no one ever really said smoking was that bad. And all of their viewpoints changed a lot, too.
Before we ended up in Mito's house playing cards, we'd been walking around the busier part of town near the protestors and all the commotion just watching.
"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!" One side of the crowd yelled.
"PLEASE!" The other side cried.
"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"
"PLEASE!"
Koharu began to lift her hands and hold them to the sides of her head but Homura pulled them down.
"It's good to hear it. Let it fill you up." He said.
"And pop you like a coke bottle." Mito added.
"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"
And because of the image of the American Flag being draped over Tsubasa's coffin etched so thoroughly in my brain, all the chanting and ranting and raving I usually smiled at and felt the urge to cheer along with just made me feel sick.
"Hey, look, there's some losers like we used to be." Koharu said, pointing.
Sitting down on the curbside, there were a couple of teens who had grown their hair really long and wore extremely colorful garbs and moccasins.
"Blast from the past." I said.
They tried to pass out flowers and "peace and love" flyers to the protestors but the flyers were just tossed to the ground and the flowers were stepped on. Mito frowned, crossed her arms, and began to head over to them.
"Oh crap." Onoki said. "We're about to see the big baddie in action."
Koharu and Homura grinned in anticipation I couldn't understand and began to follow her. Not wanting to be left behind, I jogged along too.
"Morning, fellow souls." Said the boy.
"Would you like me to play you a song to move your day along?" The girl asked.
"Play a song?" Mito repeated. "How will that move my day?"
"By filling you with peace and harmony." The girl replied. "It will heal your soul."
Koharu laughed, they all did. I couldn't help but smile slightly. Did we all really used to look that stupid?
"Does that look peaceful over there?" she asked pointing to the marchers.
"PLEASE!" The protestors chanted on.
The state police were at bay, guns not pointed but in hand as a reminder not to let things get out of hand.
"That looks pretty edgy to me."
The boy shrugged.
"It's just worldly things." He said, then he lifted a rose to her. "If you want to experience real peace and love, you have to ignore it."
"Then why are you sitting right next to it?" She asked him.
We all laughed. It was a pretty hilarious contradiction when you thought about it.
He blinked at her.
"Because this is where all the people really in need of an escape are." He explained simply.
"I see." She said nodding. "So, if I take this flower and put it in my hair and run away from 'the man', I'll be happy, right?"
They both nodded and smiled.
"Totally."
I smiled back at them. I realized I admired their hope. It was warm. It was inspiring.
"Well, yeah, I might be all peace and love but what about these people here? Waiting for their kids to come home in one piece?"
Their smiles slipped, they stared at her.
"You know what? Fuck them, what about the actual soldiers, huh? They can't just sit on the battlefield and play flutes and ignore the fucking guns being shot at them from all over the place, can they?"
My smile faded, too. I watched, along with our friends and others who had begun to stare as her voice rose.
"And what about this whole fucked up world? No one else can just close their eyes and ears and crawl up into a little ball and hope it all disappears! You know why? Because everyone else has the fucking balls to try to change it. That's why!"
She squatted down in front of them and they leaned away from her, like they were afraid they would catch whatever disease she had that possessed her to start talking like that.
"That's why I couldn't stay like you people." She grumbled. "You're all selfish idiots."
"How can you say that?" The girl asked. "We're bringing hope-"
"To who?" Mito interjected.
They paused momentarily.
"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"
"See, that's what I hate. I hate people who preach peace and don't even know the first thing about it." She said, staring them down. "For one, it's about empathy, understanding pain. Not ignoring it and running away."
She picked up their bowl of flowers and turned it over dumping it onto the concrete.
"The only people you're bringing hope to is yourselves." Mito said, then she smirked, very sourly. "I hope at least you're truly happy."
Then she stomped out their roses. The rest of the group unquestioningly followed suit, crunching them under their sneakers, causing red stains on the concrete that looked like blood streaks.
"Wake up from the illusion, you bastards." Koharu told them.
"Or else." Onoki added.
I found myself taking a step back from it, kind of cautiously. It was a weird moment for me. The moment I truly saw how drastically my old friends had changed. I mean, even to the point that they could stand up right against who they used to be and squash their old selves.
Mito turned, seeing I wasn't following and walked back to me.
"Did I go overboard?" She asked, smiling.
"I guess I'm just curious." I told her. "If you're not a hippie anymore. What do you do now?"
She shrugged.
"Shoot for peace a different way. Like holding who's actually responsible accountable."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Like 'the man'?" I asked, smirking. "Don't tell me! You've got the entire white house surrounded."
She laughed, too.
"Not yet, but maybe one day." She replied.
But back in the present, no one was thinking about what we did earlier that day anymore. Mito decided she wanted to throw a party. That wasn't too different from who I knew her as. She loved parties. And even though the day had passed with us walking around town and playing cards, the night was still incredibly young.
"Hey, macho man." Koharu said to me. "Why are you so spaced out?"
I grinned.
"Just thinking I should've made it Strip Poker instead." I replied.
Onoki and Homura's eyes rose interestedly as they glanced over at Koharu and Mito.
"We can still do that." Onoki said.
"Yeah, I mean, who says it's too late?" Homura asked.
But the girls ignored them, shaking their heads at me.
"Still the comedian, huh?" Koharu asked me. "Why don't you fix your face before cracking jokes?"
I'd managed to get a pretty bad shiner over my left eye. That kid could really punch. But it wasn't much of a surprise, noting his family.
"Speaking of that." Mito went on. "You never told us who did it."
"Yeah, do tell, so we can jump them tomorrow." Homura joked.
"I'm sitting out on that." Onoki mumbled, pointing at his nose which had been broken at some point. "This thing is gonna be swollen for weeks."
"More like the rest of your life." I told him.
"I bet it was Tobirama." Koharu joked. "He could honestly beat the crap out of you, you know."
I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, maybe in his dreams. All those times we wrestled as kids, I just let him win." Then I shrugged. "I don't really know who it was."
"How?" Mito questioned.
"They were wearing hockey masks." I said.
Mito raised her eyebrows and the others looked at her with wide eyes. I blinked at them.
"...Have you guys seen kids like that before?"
They all shook their heads.
"It sounds fishy, though." Mito said. "Anything else?"
"Well..."
Even though I might've know who one of them was... Forget lying, I was almost 100% certain who one of them was. But it was because of that, I couldn't out them. I shook my head.
"Nevermind."
Suddenly, the door bell rang.
"Whooo!" Mito shouted, fist pumping. "People are already here!"
Koharu wiped the cards off the table and jumped up.
"Wait! We haven't even gotten the place together yet!" She yelled.
"Alright, Onoki, you answer the door. Homura and Koharu are on quick cleaning duty. And Hashirama and I will cook up some funkadelic stuff in the kitchen."
I smiled at her.
"Funkadelic?"
She grabbed my hand.
"You're gonna be amazed, buddy." She told me.
Madara
Adult Entertainment
I needed to get to Hashirama as quickly as possible. I didn't know why, it might've been a sixth sense or something, but I had a really strong feeling that my window of opportunity was closing, fast. I went to his house first, but no one was there. So, not left with very many options, I looked for her.
I'm lucky my older brothers were such perverts or else I never would've found this place.
"Is there a woman named Senju here?" I asked.
The bouncer at the door to the building glanced down from a very dirty magazine he was reading, stared at me for a moment, and then went back to reading.
I'm honestly a peaceful person...
I walked away from the front exit and around the side of the building which I'd already scoped out for backdoors and secret exits before even approaching him.
But I really, really can't stand it when someone ignores me.
I picked up a wooden plank that I'd left there, just in case, and turned walking back up on the man. He glanced at me again as I returned and turned a page in his book, purposely trying to block any sight into the building with his big fat ass.
"Well, it's just that, she has a message for you. Can I whisper it to you?" I asked.
Suddenly, seeming interested, he closed his magazine and leaned down.
"Come a bit closer."
He leaned down further.
Yeah, that's right, fatso.
His bald head lowered just below my eyes. I pulled the blank from behind my back and used the dull side to bash on the back of his head, right between the base of his skull and the top of his neck. He dropped to the ground wordlessly. I patted him down, finding what I hoped was the master key in his pocket along with his ID and then I dragged his big, fat ass across the front stoop and over around to the side of the building.
"I'm probably gonna need your vest, too, asshole."
He didn't move as I rolled him over, zipping his vest down and then zipping it onto my own body.
I'm lucky there's not very many lights on this side of the street.
The only light around the building was a gigantic neon, blinking sign above it that said: "GET YOUR XXX HERE!"
As I rounded the corner, a couple of dark skinned guys had walked up, money in hand, and not seeing a bouncer they looked confused.
"Go right on in, it's free before midnight." I said, pointing inside.
They raised their eyebrows, judging my height, and probably questioning my reliability.
These motherfuckers...
"The gate keeper's my father." I lied easily, flashing the keys and his ID that I'd picked up.
After seeing it, they nodded.
"Oh, cool beans, bro." The black haired one said before fist pounding me.
The brown haired one grinned. "So does that mean you get to be here every night?"
It wouldn't be smart to say yes to that...
"No, this is my first night helping out." I told them.
I closed the door firmly behind them, discretely sliding the door closed and locking it.
"Do you guys come here often?" I asked as we walked through the front hall.
They grinned at me. And those grins said everything.
I rolled my eyes inwardly.
The funny thing is that these idiots are clearly only seniors in high school, if that.
The lobby was full of people and all kinds of distractions, like dirty magazine booths, sex toy kiosks, food bars, where people all hot and sweaty from whatever they were doing in the strip club came to eat, and, of course, the entrance to the XXX rated theater.
"Check it, homie." The black haired one said, nudging his friend. "I told you they'd have empty private rooms if we came early."
Empty private rooms?
I raised my eyebrows to where they were pointing.
"I can't wait to get it on with China." He said, rubbing his hands together.
"That's one of the strippers, right?" I asked.
They nodded.
"There's four, right?" The black haired one asked.
"Naw, dog. There's like six now. Remember they just hired that sexy little Mercedes with the fat ass?" The brown haired one reminded him.
He snapped his fingers.
"You right! Yo! We gotta take that piece of ass back to the crib, my brother. You don't even know the fantasies I've been having-"
"What are all their names?" I interrupted.
It's pitiful, really. Guys start going on about how sexy some whore is and they'll never stop. My older brothers were just like that... So annoying.
"Uh, I think it's... Mercedes, China, Panda Bear, Snow White, Tinkerbell, and Roxy." He said, naming them with ease.
The other one fist bumped him.
"My brotha stay on it!" He declared.
"Have you guys ever seen any of them up close?" I asked.
The brown haired one wiggled his eyebrows at me.
"You're probably asking what they look like, right? Well, like I was saying Mercedes, that chick has this ass, right? And it's like-"
"I'm not interested in them like that. I just need to know what they look like in the face."
They both gave me a funny look.
"You're not interested like that?" The black haired one asked. "Then how the hell are you interested, cat?"
They both burst into laughter, hanging on each other to stop from collapsing on the floor from laughing.
"Sorry, man. I don't mess with no freaky shit. But thanks for letting us in though, 'Gatekeepers Son' or whatever."
They walked off then, heading straight for the strip club and laughing their asses off.
I wasn't even slightly phased.
It's not like they're getting any either. Virgin assholes...
But I had enough information to make a good guess. Two of them were new and from what Hashirama had told me, his mother was a recent victim of the sell-your-soul-for-money business. All I had to do was figure out who was the other newbie because I was sure as hell his mother didn't go by the name Mercedes. She didn't even have an ass...not that I was looking.
But I figured out quickly I didn't even have to ask anyone. Right in front of the strip club, there was a huge poster reading 'Mercedes and Snow White, Check Out Our Newest Exotic Dancers'.
Exotic Dancers? That's what they're calling prostitutes these days?
I pushed open the doors to the strip club which was filthy full with dozens of hot and sweaty men, sitting around the stage watching the closed curtains. It seemed like someone was about to come out.
"I've been waiting for this all day." One man said to his friend. "I'm gonna call her to a private room."
"That costs so much bread, though. And you haven't even seen her dance yet."
"Trust me. She's worth it."
He got up and started walking up next to the stage. I followed him, curious about what he was doing but then, the lights immediately cut off.
"Get you mind and most importantly your BODY ready for... SNOW WHITE!" The Announcer declared.
And then the curtains pulled back and someone began walking out but everyone stood up and I could barely see.
Why the hell am I so damn short?
I saw the man bending over what looked like a metal box near the stage and I ducked around the people watching as he wrote something on a note and tossed it inside. I picked up the box and smiled, finding the perfect ticket backstage.
It's a call back note. This is probably how people end up with the dancers in those private rooms.
I picked up the box and weaved back through the crowd.
All I have to do is pretend I'm taking these to dancers back stage.
But then, as I got through a gap in the crowd, I glanced on stage and saw the most disturbing thing I'd ever seen in my life.
"YESS! TAKE IT OFF!" The person next to me hollered.
"Holy Shit..." I found myself whispering.
It was Hashirama's Stepmother, alright. Standing there parading herself around like a friggin' prized cow. Her shirt, which was already skimpy enough, was falling to the ground and with only her bra up top she was working on sliding a pair of deep red, leather pants down.
I've literally never felt closer to throwing up than today.
"Hey, man. Let me sign up." Someone said, grabbing my arm.
I turned as people crowded around me, tearing off sheets of paper and signing their names down.
"You sure Snow White has it like that?" Someone asked.
"Dude, please. I mean, if it's about popping a chubby, I could've done that damn self. But she takes you way farther."
"Really, how far?"
I can't listen to this. I have to get out of here.
"One more and that's it." I told them all.
I could've started a friggin' riot. Everyone suddenly started jumping over everyone else, struggling to get the metal bin and pushing each other and fighting. It was actually turned out to be a good thing, it gave me the perfect opportunity to slip through small gaps in the crowd, run under people's legs and around fists.
I guess being short has its advantages.
I finally got to the stage side where another gatekeeper opened the door for me, not even suspecting anything, partially because of the vest I stole but mostly because Hashirama's Stepmother A.K.A Snow White had just removed her bra.
The guy whistled as I walked past him, running back stage. It didn't take much more looking around to find the door to her dressing room. It said her name on it. SNOW WHITE. No surprise there. And the door was unlocked. Also no surprise. So I walked in, dumping the metal box of names on a couch next to a make-up dresser and sat on the only stool in the room.
Now it's a waiting game.
And it wasn't too long of a wait considering the last time I saw her, she was only wearing heels and underwear. Less than ten minutes later, the door knob turned and she entered, carrying her clothes in one hand and completely nude.
My eyes shut automatically.
Jesus, fuck! If I'm really going to turn queer, it's going to be all this woman's fault.
"What the hell-" She began. "Why are you-" She paused again. "What's going on?!"
Someone walked by and she stiffened, closing the door behind her quickly. I opened my eyes but kept my head turned away.
"Just... Stop, okay? And put some clothes on. I can't talk to naked women seriously."
I could feel the tension in the room building as she rustled around, picking through things and sliding things onto her body.
"Fine." She finally said. "Now what the fuck do you want?"
I turned back to her feeling a sense of thick sarcasm to see her wearing a colorful Nursing Aid uniform.
"Where's Hashirama?" I asked.
"You came all the way here to ask me that?" she asked, leaning against the door.
Then she smirked.
"I guess you're really desperate, huh?"
Save the bullshit, woman.
"Answer my question." I said.
"You must be fucking insane if you think I'm going to tell you where my son is." She said, opening the door. "Now get the fuck out."
I stayed seated.
"Move it, brat." She said, pointing. "I'm not telling you jack squat."
"Fine." I told her, standing up. "I'll just catch Tobirama or Itama when they're in school one day and explain to them that their mother gets home so late all the time because she's too busy doing smack and giving strangers a blow-job."
Her smug grin slipped. She gripped the door knob.
"You wouldn't..."
"I'm surprised you think I haven't already tried." I retorted.
She stared at me for a second, and then grabbing her jacket she pulled the door completely open.
"Come on." She said.
I followed her, not even slightly worried about my own well being as she walked around to the back exit and pulled the door open, offering a rush of cool, fresh air compared to the stench of booze, drugs and sex that filled that place.
"You're gonna get me fucking fired for this." She muttered.
"You're welcome." I replied.
We walked around the side of building and she raised her eyebrows as we came across the body of that bouncer I dropped. She looked at my vest and then shook her head.
"So you're a criminal, too?"
"Yup. Pull anything with me, and you'll wake up in the ER like he will." I told her.
"Very funny."
"I'm not joking."
She led me to this broken down, old as dirt station wagon that was parked across the street and I slid into the passengers seat. In the back, was a mountain of t-shirts, baseball magazines, toys, games, and other child-friendly bull crap that basically screamed 'Whoever Drives This Cars Has Way Too Many Children'.
She adjusted the rearview mirror, gave me a look of pure contempt, and then backed out. It was silent in the car for most of the ride until I touched the pocket of the vest, surprised to find a pack of cigs and a lighter in there. I cut the match, creating a blazing flame and met it to the end of a cig.
"And you smoke?!"
I took a puff and rolled the window down slightly to blow the air out.
"Isn't not like you're a stranger to drugs." I replied.
She paused momentarily.
"...How much has he told you?"
"I could write a biography."
She gripped the steering wheel.
"You have no right to judge me." She said between gritted teeth.
"I didn't say I did." I took another hit. "But you seem to think you have the right to judge me."
"Because you're a..." she paused. "You're trying to taint my son with your...demons."
"And being a prostitute is angelic?"
"I'm not a prostitute!" She shouted. "And even if I was, I'm a grown woman. And I'll do anything to make sure my kids have money for clothes and an education!"
I tapped the litter out of the car on the street and clapped.
"Amazing. So, no one else in the world has ever been in a money struggle? That's news to me." I said. "I bet they all turned to whoring themselves out on a stage, too. Barely seeing their kids. Never remembering their lunch money or their games. Spending more time away from their family instead of with them."
She stopped the car. We'd already arrived in the driveway.
"Maybe I'm crazy but that sounds a bit counter-productive."
She turned, glaring at me, but I was already stepping out of the car, squashing my cigarette in the dirt. She slammed the car door closed and we both walked up to the house, which was just as silent as it was when I came earlier that night.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"He normally leaves a note." She said, putting a key in the lock. "I'll find out when we get in."
She pushed the door open and walked into the kitchen. I glanced left, noticing the light to the room he shared with his brother was on, and walked in that direction. There was a pile of really nasty smelling clothes in the middle of the room.
Smells like...garbage?
I knelt over them, only having to see the board shorts to know they were his and looked around for anything else. There were a couple of ice packs on the dresser, like someone had gotten bruised, and cotton balls with blood on them. Suddenly, a thought came to me.
Did he get hurt?
And then, I noticed something I hadn't seen in a long time. On his bed with the bright yellow, orange and green patterned sheets, under his pillow, there was a bit of red sticking out. I lifted his pillow to find what I thought it was. His classic red binder that he drew in. I flipped it open, widening my eyes at the drawings I hadn't seen before.
Footsteps sounded behind me as I turned the pages.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked.
"Where is he?" I repeated.
She sighed, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'll tell you... On one condition."
"Condition?" I asked.
She nodded slowly, never taking her eyes off me.
"Fine." I told her.
"He's at a girl's house. Mito Uzumaki." She told me.
A girl's house? I guess my hunch was right... I really might not have much time.
But I continued looking in the binder.
"But my condition is, when you see him, this has to be the LAST time. And you should only go there to tell him goodbye and THAT'S IT!" She ordered. "I'm NOT going to let you ruin his chance at getting a girlfriend and finally discovering how worthless his time with you really was!"
I'm really getting tired of this woman's mouth...
"Not ONE other word, you hear me? Or I'll report you to the goddamn police for stalking my son."
"...Stalking him?" I asked her. "Do you really think that's what's happening?"
"What else could be happening?"
"First off." I said, finally turning to her. "I wasn't the one who pursued him. It all started out with his crush on me."
She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temples and it was clear she was trying desperately to squeeze out every word I just said.
"My son's a very impressionable boy, alright? He's innocent and pure. He was probably just confusing his pity over you probably because of your brother's death with some weird emotional attraction. It was a mistake and he's going to realize that tonight. So stay away from him."
"I thought the same thing at first." I told her. "That he just had a strange way of showing affection."
I walked toward her.
"But at the same time, with how often he was coming onto me, I started to feel attracted to him, too..." I confessed. "And once that happened, once I began to feel how I did... I knew he was serious."
"You're lying!" She shouted at me. "My son is a church going boy who would never do something as blasphemous as coming onto another boy!"
Her eyes held nothing but hatred for me.
"You're lucky you're not my son or I would strangle the queer out of you myself!" She declared, then she sighed, trying to pull herself together. "It's a shame, really... A shame that you're such a weak person, you can't even see when you're falling straight into hell."
I can admit that... I might be weak.
There was nothing more to say. So I said nothing. But I lifted the red binder out of my hands and slid it into hers, pressing it against her palms.
But when I'm with him... I feel strong.
"What is this?" She asked.
I pulled another cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, continuing to head out of the doorway without saying anything.
That binder...
I was right all along back then. He really had continued drawing me even after we talked at the little league tryouts. And ever since I'd blown him off at the boxing arena, the drawings only got heavier... And more detailed... And more intimate...
He'd drawn him kissing me on the cheek at the boxing arena. And me pinning him to my bed in my room. And him kissing me on the beach. And him pinning me to the floor in his living room. And even in the locker rooms.
And with all those drawings, he'd even gone as far as to shade in the blush of embarrassment on my cheeks or ears and his hands touching me in places they shouldn't have been.
But the last few pages didn't have drawings at all. They had words. And reading those words...
'Madara, I love you, Madara, I love you, Madara, I love you, Madara...'
And
'I miss you so much, I miss you so much it hurts, I miss you so much it hurts like hell'
And
'If I could kiss you one more time... Just one LAST time I'd be able to stop for good. And then I could stop thinking about you all the time... I promise. Just one LAST time...'
And...
'I'm sorry, Madara... I'm sorry that I made you kiss me all those times. I shouldn't have but... I can't regret it. I want to do it again and again and again and again... And I'd have no problem getting beat up forever, for as long as I live, if I could just have you back... It's stupid but... I'm sorry.'
And reading all that made me firmer in my decision to find him despite whatever whore's house his mother sent him to, I didn't give a damn. He had it all wrong. He didn't need to be sorry. It was all my fault. I was sorry. And I just needed to tell him that. I didn't care what happened afterwards as long as I told him that.
"...No...No...No..." I heard her whispering. "God...Why?"
"And by the way." I called before, slipping the next cig into my mouth. "I'm not going to keep to that condition."
I pushed the screen door opened and headed into the night, with nothing on my brain except getting to him as fast as possible.
Author's Note: Leave a review and tell me what your guess is on who beat up Hashirama! And did you guess that Hashirama's Stepmother had such an 'unholly' profession? And is Madara a badass or WHAT?!
Up Next: Will Madara make it to Hashirama in time to apologize? Will Hashirama succeed in 'changing' himself for the sake of his traditional mother? Or is this truly the end for the short-lived couple? This and much, much more will be answered next chapter. I don't like spoilers or anything, but I WILL tell you that SOMEBODY loses their virginity. ;)