With second period starting soon, there aren't many students left lingering in the hallway of the art wing. Your stomach is still queasy from your excruciating morning workout, as well as the horrors of that pop quiz. There were definitely going to be future nightmares from the latter.
"I worked on your portrait some more when I got home, Junpei."
"Oh! Is it almost done?" He asks excitedly.
"The base layer is done, yeah. I don't have anything for color though, so it's still only in graphite."
"I have a pastel kit," he offers.
"It's at home though. Maybe...you'd like to come by after school? We can finish the project together tonight."
"Sure. That sounds like a good plan," you agree.
You didn't have the money for art supplies anyway. Toji made sure to keep any of your spare cash for expenses he accrued taking you in. The bastard probably skimmed off the top for his own vices too.
You are walking past what you assume to be an empty classroom when a sudden movement catches your eye. Reacting in a flash, you pull Jumpei back by his shoulder as a textbook whizzes through the air and thwacks loudly into the wall. It had barely missed him by a hair.
"Whoa!" he startles.
Your head whips into the room.
"Who fucking threw that?!"
The sound of snickering laughter cuts short. You find yourself face to face with none other than the three assholes from the alleyway the day before.
"I should have guessed it was you three abortions. Don't you have anything better to do?"
Their "leader" Nishimura speaks for them,
"What're you gonna do about it? You won't retaliate here on school grounds, pussy."
Junpei groans from the hallway. He knew better than these idiots that you didn't care. So much for art class.
You step into the room, naturally in no mood to back down from a challenge.
"You don't think so?"
From the corner of your eye, you catch one of Nishimura's cohorts beginning to close the door behind you. Junpei leaps forward, wedging his foot into the doorway crack to prevent you from being locked inside.
"Come on, Fushiguro," his voice is trembling with his nerves.
"Y-you don't have to fight these guys right now, do you?"
The guy attempting to close the door reaches through, grabbing Junpei by the front of his uniform and yanks him inside too. The door slams shut behind him.
Nishimura sneers at you. "Nowhere to go. Looks like you're trapped in here with us, punk."
"More like you're trapped here with me," you correct him.
Then raising your leg up, you kick a desk viciously across the floor right at him. He stumbles over it then lunges to grab your shirt. You latch onto his too. When you load your other arm back for a hit, one of his lackeys- Honda or Sayama, you can't tell them apart- grabs your wrist, freezing its movement.
Nishimura's fist connects to your cheek, then whoever has your wrist throws a blow into your ribs from behind. They're really ganging up on you this time, not giving you a chance to get a good swing in. Guy number three sends a kick to your shin to drop you to your knees with force.
"Get off of him!" Junpei cries, leaping onto the back of the kicker.
His hands cover the attackers face, blocking his eyes and pulling back with all his strength. The brute falls back under Junpei's sudden aggression, both of them landing with a heavy crash into the nearby desks. He doesn't let go of the bully once he's down either. Locking the crook of his arm around the boy's neck, he squeezes tightly, pulling on his wrist with his other hand, limiting his air. One thing these jerks hadn't expected was that his timid nature would change when he saw you in trouble.
The repetitive crashing of desks and the sounds of the scuffle eventually rouses the attentions of both classrooms on either side of the adjoining walls. Students pour our into the hallway and peer in through the clear glass of the door to see what the commotion is.
"Out of my way! Out of my way!"
Your art teacher Mrs Hama blusters through the curious students, and swings the classroom door open wide.
"What is this?! Stop this immediately, you unruly hoodlums!"
You feel a bony hand on the back of your jacket yanking you to your feet.
"Fushiguro!" She cries upon recognizing you.
"Fighting on your second day?!"
Then she spies Junpei, still sprawled out with his opponent too. Though the jerk is left gasping for air after being held in a chokehold for so long.
"Yoshino?!" She sounds more astounded to be scolding him.
Nishimura straightens his uniform, brushing his hair from his eyes. Immediately he switches into his class representative mask.
"These two were loitering. We caught them in here and they refused to leave. They've been skipping classes together."
Mrs Hama narrows her eyes at you. She didn't believe him, did she? You're the one who was ambushed. Hell, you hadn't even landed a hit on anyone!
Your art teachers voice pitches in a complete loss of composure.
"Both of you! To the principal's office! Immediately!"
.
.
.
You sit in front of the principal's office, twiddling your thumbs and rapidly bouncing your knee. Both nervous habits of yours. You're struggling to keep yourself calm externally though, unlike poor Junpei. He's a wreck presently.
"Oh, man. Oh, my god. My mom is going to kill me! I've never had the school call her before, ever!" he frets with his face in both hands.
"I'm going to be grounded until graduation!"
"It'll be okay. Just explain that it was self defense," you suggest, trying to sound more calm than you are.
"But I've never been in a real fight! There's no way I'm getting out of this one. I'm a dead man, I just know it."
Geez, the guy is dramatic. There's no way his mom would be upset if this is his first offense. Right?
"Junpei Yoshino!" A shrill voice rings through the hallway suddenly.
You turn toward the sound and see a woman of medium build with the same hair color as your friend. She looks very annoyed as well.
"Hi, m-mom," he sputters, his face turning a shockingly bright shade of red.
"Imagine my surprise, as I was mopping up blood in the OR from a car accident case, and I hear that my son has been fighting at school!"
"I'm sorry! I know you were working. It's just that those guys had already fought with Fushiguro on his first day, and-"
"Who's Fushiguro?" She demands.
You wave your first two fingers,
"Hello."
She growls dangerously.
"You got my baby into a fight?"
Uh-oh. She has tiger mom eyes.
Thankfully the door to the principal's office opens, saving you from having to elaborate and Principal Hiroshi steps out. He's a tiny balding man with thick glasses and a wide polka dot tie that looks as old as he is.
"Good afternoon, Yoshino-San. I do apologize for having to call you here like this."
He glances up and down both ends of the hallway, frowning. "Fushiguro, I left a voicemail for your father, but I'm not sure he'll be joining us."
"So...can I leave?"
A stern look from the headmaster tells you the answer is a resounding no. Oh well. It was worth a try.
"Let's all come in and have a seat," he gestures inside his office.
Goddammit.
Dutifully you follow behind them, noting that Yoshino-San is taking it upon herself to stand between you and your friend. Even when you plunk down in a chair in front of Principal Hiroshi's desk, she opts to sit between you and Junpei. You roll your eyes, thinking to yourself how stupid all of this is. If she had any clue what her son went through here, she wouldn't be treating you like the villain.
Principal Hiroshi, seats himself with a long sigh, eyeing his students back and forth before beginning his obviously pre-prepared speech.
"Now, when our students are more interested in violence than schoolwork, it can be an indication of a far more serious issue at hand than just childish immaturity."
Oh, this motherfucker.
Your friend's mom only nods in agreement.
"We do strive to prevent these outbursts, though once an incident has occurred, we need to take action to assess these issues." Now he turns to you.
"Fushiguro, I understand transferring to a new school after the semester has started is a difficult transition for anyone to make. Is this maybe why you're feeling defensive? Starting fights is a poor way to make friends."
This asshole is really trying your patience now.
"Aw, gee, Hiroshi-San. I wanna make a bunch of friends and be a normal student, I promise I do. But the problem is, your school really sucks when it comes to regulating any of your students' actions. This place was shitty before I got here."
Hiroshi looks appalled by your statement. You're getting the feeling that both he Junpei's mother are clueless about what happens to her son. It's probably Junpei's choice, keeping it secret from her. That thought is the only thing holding your words back. You'd love nothing more than to expose the bullies this school has been breeding.
Junpei's mom shoots you a poisonous look. She isn't the least bit impressed by you or your attitude.
She leans toward her son,
"I don't want you hanging around him anymore. Understand? That boy is obviously trouble."
"Mom!" he protests, eyes wide with shock.
"I mean it! He probably comes from a shady family."
"Uhh, I can hear you?" You're positive she doesn't care though.
"We're partners on an art project," Junpei argues desperately, his voice breaking,
"It's due tomorrow!"
"You'll just have to figure something out. Maybe ask someone else, or you could make it up another way." She suggests.
Yeah right, the day before a project is due? There's a hopeful wish. Sounds like she'd rather her son fail an assignment than have you help him.
She directs her next question to the headmaster.
"Where is this boy's father? Does he even care that his son is causing problems at school?"
She's really pushing her luck. You lean back in your chair, trying to look carefree.
"Hey now! He's too busy with work to be bothered by this paltry-"
You're cut off by the office door swinging open. Toji's massive bulk is filling up the entirety of the doorway. His eyes are blazing green infernos. Your chair hits the floor.
"Why, papa, you did make it afterall!" Your voice softens to a sweet tone, trying to butter him up a little.
You smile, but your lips are twitching. Did it suddenly get hot in here? The collar of your uniform feels strangely tight around your neck. Or maybe that was a premonition of things yet to come. He looked angry enough to strangle the life out of you. Thankfully you're still in public. For now.
"What do you think I work so damn hard for? To get notified that you're showing your ass at the school where I struggled to get you enrolled? Or to lose a half day's pay dealing with your mess?"
Oh, crap. He's in his paternal mode.
There's a slight movement from Junpei's mother, as she modestly covers her lips with her fingertips. What the- is she blushing?!
Toji's eyes shift from you to Yoshino-San, he bows his head respectfully.
"I sincerely apologize for the trouble my boy can be. He hasn't been fully trained yet, you see. He knows nothing of how hard a single mother has to work."
She ignores the menacing look in his eyes, still boring holes into your soul, and places a hand over her chest,
"Yes...Well, boys do require extra attention, don't they?"
Junpei leans back in his seat to make eye contact with you. He has an expression of pure horror on his face. He's for sure picking up the same vibes as you.
Principal Hiroshi clears his throat, rebuffed at being interrupted.
"Please join us, Fushiguro-San."
Your "dad" plants himself next to you, leaning harshly on one elbow to close the distance between the two of you.
"When we get home, oh, just you wait. You're gonna need to take the bus to school from now on, kid."
You gulp loudly. It's becoming more clear that this situation is well out of your control now. You may have to cut back on your physical endeavors on campus. At least for a little while.
The principal cuts in once more,
"Right, as we were saying, Fushiguro-San, there may be other issues behind your son's outbursts. Have you considered therapy? Medication perhaps?"
This time Fushiguro's furious eyes lock onto the tiny balding man behind his desk.
"Medication for what exactly? You a doctor?"
"Ah, no. That is, I went through several years of training in juvenile behavioral therapy though. I can usually detect a troubled child right away."
"And that's my child, you're saying? So we should just stuff him full of pills?" Toji's voice drops to a dangerous tone.
Realizing the error in his poor choice of words, your headmaster sputters momentarily in response,
"Ah, w-well. There h-have b-been studies-"
"But correct me if I'm wrong, that is not your actual job. You are in charge of keeping the affairs of your school in order. A manager for children, if you will. Your job is not telling me there's a damn thing wrong with my kid."
This time, Toji addresses you,
"Why did the fight start?"
"Some goons threw a book at Junpei. It almost clobbered his face. I thought they shouldn't be testing physics and my patience like that. Silly me."
There's a sharp inhale from your right. You wince a little, it wasn't your intention to rat out your friend's bullying problem.
"What!? There were other boys picking on you?"
Junpei's eyes are wide as plates.
His mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.
"Did you know this?" She demands from the headmaster.
"Or did you just make your foolhardy assumptions first? Because you told me that my son had been fighting, not fending for himself."
Toji chimes in again,
"Is it the school's policy to let someone kick your ass politely?"
Now with two furious parents peppering him with questions he couldn't answer, your principal can only clasp and unclasp his hands, still stuttering nervously without forming a sentence.
"Oh, for God's sake, man. Here, let me do your job for you, so you don't have an infarction." Toji sighs in annoyance.
"Excuse me, Yoshino-San? It's clear that this guy only got one version of the story and stuck with it because my kid is a new transfer and they needed a scapegoat for this. That part has to be obvious to you, too. Right?"
She pauses, considering the notion, then sighs. She clearly doesn't want to back down, but he's making sense so far.
"I...suppose."
"I've met your son before today. Good kid. I bet he's never given you a lick of trouble in his life. Has he?"
Now she beams with pride,
"Oh, well of course not. He's my perfect boy."
"Oh, god! Mom, stop!" Junpei looks beyond humiliated.
Ignoring the outburst, Toji smiles. Not just any smile either. It's his invincible smile, all teeth flashing like a wolf who's just cornered its prey with no way out. The smile before he got his way. This was the only expression of his that spawned fear, deep and primal from your root.
"Why don't you let me make dinner for you and your perfect boy? We can have a nice chat and put all this behind us once we've gotten to know each other a little better."
There is a deadness in your eyes that stares beyond the pale. You didn't need to look over to know that your friend wore the same mask of defeat. No single mother in her right mind would turn down an opportunity like that.
But she didn't have to fucking giggle like a maniac.
"Ohohoho! We would both just love that! Wouldn't we, Junie?"
"No, we wouldn't."
He sounds as if he's on the verge of tears. She can't hear him over herself though.
"The boys have an art project, I understand. They could work on it together tonight? Let's exchange numbers!" She practically squeals.
Wow, what a flip. You had to admit you're shocked she's changing her tune so quickly regarding you hanging out with her "perfect boy." Now it's as if she can't wait to have you over.
"Oh, and your wife can absolutely come, too!" She adds as a clear afterthought.
"Mm. That's sweet of you, but I'm a widower." He makes sure to say this with a sadness in his voice that you know is an act. Toji never seemed to outwardly regret how his attempt at a domesticated life had fallen through.
There isn't even an attempt at empathy when she replies,
"That's too bad!"
You shudder, unable to control the corners of your mouth pulling down in disgust. Staring down at your shoes, you try to find a happy place.
Toji smirks triumphantly at the headmaster,
"So, it seems these children will be managed just fine from here, and your services are no longer needed today. I'll be taking my son home. He needs a head start on his disciplinary action." Then flipping back into sweet Toji, he smiles at Yoshino-San,
"And of course dinner preparations."
She giggles like a schoolgirl.
Hiroshi glances back and forth between you and a very distressed Junpei. It was hard to argue that you had indeed been dealt with, though in his years Hiroshi had never once seen a date used so maliciously as a means of governing children.
"Yes, well...Th-thank you. For your time."
He's all but forgotten as you all stand to leave. Toji is still laying on his charm.
"So should we say 7? That should give us plenty of time to prepare everything before we come over."
"Sounds fantastic!" she gushes.
You want nothing more than to run screaming down the hallway. This is a new level of low for him to display his gross philanderings where you had to witness them. Usually he'd disappear for a weekend if he met a woman, and he never brought them back to the apartment with him.
You hang back with Junpei, offering a solemn look of sympathy.
"Dude...I'm so sorry."
His lower lip trembles, eyes welling up with real tears.
"I hate this. I hate this so much."
"I know, and so do I. But I have a feeling this is just an act to get us off the hook."
"Not to her, it isn't," he mutters. His mom is still giggling wildly while swapping numbers with Toji.
"We'll see you tonight, then? We can't wait." He wraps an arm around your neck that's far more crushing than comforting.
"Come on, *son.* Time to go home."
You're not looking forward to Toji's punishments two days in a row, but at least you're going over to Junpei's later, so he can't do anything crazy. Right?
.
.
.
"Keep up. I'm not telling you again, runt."
When Toji is upset, those big long legs take big long strides. You, being a growing boy still, are finding it embarassing to have to run behind to meet the same pace. Maybe if he didn't make you carry everything all the way to Junpei's. God forbid the man spend money to take a cab somewhere. On top of that, he insisted on bringing his cast iron cookware from the apartment on the excuse that he "didn't know what he would end up needing."
Yeah, right. This is just the tip of the iceberg, you're sure of it. There's a storm brewing behind those stone cold eyes. He's bound to hit you with something way more high impact than this for a punishment. Maybe a nice dinner with a lady his own age would mellow him out a bit.
Great, now you've made yourself sick thinking about that again.
He's already punching in the numbers on his phone as you reach the main entrance of the apartment building. You feel like retching when you hear that fake nice "sweetheart tone" he uses to get his foot in the door anywhere.
"Heyy. We're here. What floor are you on, my dear?"
"Yechh," you cringe, but say nothing else when he shoots a poisonous glare over his shoulder in your direction.
"Yeah, We'll be a few minutes. We like taking the stairs."
You and your big mouth.
...
Nineteen flights of stairs later and you're about ready to collapse across the Yoshino welcome mat outside their home.
"Welcome! Come right in, you can your leave shoes here, yes that's fine."
Nagi Yoshino, a single mother since Junpei's father had passed away, had not had a man in her apartment for nearly a decade. She'd been looking forward to this dinner all day, forcing Junpei to help her tidy up, vacuum and even dust for reasons he did not understand. Do grown men even look around a woman's apartment and notice dust? It seemed lunatic to him. She even tried forcing him to wear a dress shirt for dinner, but he put his foot down on that matter. He was embarrassed enough having to join his mom on her weird parent date without it seeming like he was playing along. He opted instead for his white shirt with a green block on the front and khakis. His mother chose to wear a bright red halter top that he had never seen before in his life. It showed off almost all of her back, including a small tattoo of a heart on her shoulder that she always kept covered.
That made him want to crawl under his bed and never come out.
"Lovely home you have," Toji smiles and dips his head to the hostess. Then he slaps the back of your head,
"Manners, boy."
You grunt but bow your head also.
"Thank you so much for having us over."
She doesn't acknowledge the precarious load of groceries and pots strapped to your back beyond telling you to set them down in the kitchen.
"I thought the boys could work on their homework while you and I get to know each other?" Nagi sweetly offers, not hiding the fact she couldn't wait to be alone with Toji.
"Sounds great," you say, trying not to let your urgency show too much
"Junpei, where's your room?"
Now it's his turn to look nervous.
"Umm, right this way. Follow me."
He guides you down the adjoining hallway to the last door on the left.
"Sorry about the clutter. Mom had me cleaning everything else today I didn't have time to get to my own space yet."
"Believe me, anywhere is better than being around whatever the fuck is going on out there."
His room isn't too messy, other than some dirty clothes on the floor and a few empty soda cans and snack wrappers strewn across his desk.
What grabs your attention is the amount of movie posters on every inch of your friend's walls. Mostly horror, but some science fiction as well. Creature From The Black Lagoon, Ju-on, Scream, Alien, Halloween, and a few others you don't recognize. Looking up, you see his ceiling is also peppered with stock footage cells. Movie ticket stubs are wallpapered in neat, even rows on the wall behind his bed, along with some rudimentary monster character designs from notable film history. Those looked to be hand drawn by him.
"Whoa," you breathe in awe.
"You really love movies, don't you, Junpei?"
"Well, sure. Everyone does."
"How often to you go to the theater? There's gotta be close to two hundred tickets here."
You sit at the head of his bed, looking over the various titles, scanning for something you may have seen too. They're mostly independent films it looks like though.
"A few times a month at least. I like going when no one else is there."
Junpei's heart is hammering at the sight of you sitting on his bed, but he doesn't know why. It's probably just because he's never had a friend over like this, right? He wonders if it would be weird if he sits next to you. He's so unsure of himself around you, even in his safe space.
The tittering laugh of his mother reaches his ears through the closed door, solidifying his choice to get farther away from it. He chooses to sit at the foot of the bed instead, leaving plenty of space between the two of you.
"I can't remember the last time I saw a movie in a theater. It might have been Toy Story," you laugh wistfully.
"Which one?" he asks.
"There's more than one?"
"Yeah, there's four."
"Jesus...Show's how long it's been I guess. I didn't know that."
Junpei leans over and rummages under the bed, pulling out his various art supplies.
"Seriously? They were advertised like crazy."
You shrug and reach for your own backpack. Your portrait still needs two more mediums besides the primary graphite layer.
"Do you have charcoal?"
"A bit, yeah." He passes you a small cardboard box with a few loose black sticks inside.
"I still have to finish my sketch of you. I didn't get very far yet."
"We've got plenty of time. I don't wanna go back out there."
...
An hour of drawing, shading and pastel-ing later, and the call for dinner came.
Junpei heaves a sigh for the umpteenth time that day.
"Is your dad a good cook at least?"
"Ew, don't call him that! But yeah, Toji makes good food. I hope you like meat though. He works at a slaughterhouse."
"Jesus fucking Christ. Is everything about him absolutely terrifying?"
You snort in a laugh,
"Not everything. He can't handle his alcohol."
You set down the blue pastel you had been using for shadow on the skin, and follow your friend. Toji had spared you from having to help him with the cooking, thank God. He was a menace of a chef with impossible standards. But the bastard knew his way around a pig.
You take the chair across from Junpei, preferring to stare at him for the duration of your meal over anyone else. You serve yourself from the dishes at the center of the table, heaping white rice and pork belly onto your plate. Might as well take advantage of the rare treat. It was very "fend for yourself" back at home. Junpei picks at a modest portion in silence. His mother carries on happily,
"My goodness, Toji! This is the most succulent pork belly I've had in ages. The market doesn't keep anything besides the frozen slabs these days."
"I can bring you more whenever you'd like," he offers.
"Yeah, we get a great connection since he's their executioner," you snort.
There's a sharp kick to the side of your knee from Toji just as you lift your water glass. It fumbles from your fingers and spills down the front of your shirt. The glass shatters in a small explosion of shards.
"Oh, honey! Are you okay?" Yoshino-San is already grabbing a towel from a countertop and dabbing at the overspill on your corner of the table.
"Yup! Just a little wet."
You glare daggers at Toji who is smirking triumphantly as he chews.
He mouths the words "serves you right, you little shit."
"I'll just go dry myself off in the bathroom. Thanks." You stalk down the hall.
"It's across from my room," Junpei calls to you.
You're grumbling to yourself in aggravation as you click the bathroom door shut.
Stupid Toji. Stupid date. Stupid principal. Stupid students. Stupid school.
This whole day has been fucking awful.
You peel off your damp shirt. Great. Your binder is soaked too. It has to come off now.
It's a hassle pulling it up over your shoulders, but you sigh in relief once it's off. Your hands absently rub over your sternum, massaging the sore spot vigorously. You're not supposed to wear it this long. What are you supposed to do with it now? Maybe lay it across the tub, then put it on after dinner? What if someone sees it? you could lay it flat in the tub, but then it may not dry.
The door behind you swings open, stopping you in your tracks.
"Do you want to borrow a dry-"
Junpei's sentence hangs unfinished, his cheeks flushing pink. He's staring directly at your chest.
"Yo! What the hell?!" You hiss.
He's frozen in place, too stunned to move.
"S-s-sorry! I..I didn't know."
"The door was closed!"
"Yeah but...you-you're a b-boy! Your b-body," He babbles stupidly.
Concerned by how long you're both taking, his mother starts down the hallway now too.
"Is everything ok?"
Junpei startles and in a split decision, leaps forward into the bathroom with you and locks the door shut behind him.
"Honey?" She knocks on the door.
"What're you boys doing?"
"Uhh Bloody Mary! We'll be right out!" He blurts.
"Seriously?" You shake your head in disbelief. Why would he lock himself *inside* with you?! And Bloody Mary?
That's a kids game!
"Oh, you boys!" She giggles, then you listen carefully to trace her steps back to the living room.
"Sorry. That was all I could think of. I used to do it alot in here when I was little." He turns his back to you now, avoiding any chance of even seeing your reflection in the mirror.
"So...do you have a something for me to wear or not?" You ask with exasperation.
He shyly hands back the shirt he'd brought for you, again without turning around. It's a t-shirt with thick dark and light purple stripes. It'll have to do. You put it on then clear your throat. He doesn't budge.
"It's okay, you can look. I'm dressed."
He finally turns around to face you, seeing you with different eyes now. He inspects you up and down carefully, looking for anything that could have possibly tipped him off before. He's still in complete shock.
"Whoa..." he breathes.
You cross your arms defiantly, and square your jaw tight.
"So what? What're you gonna fuckin do about it?"
"What? Nothing," he bleats.
"I..I don't care! "
"You gonna tell everyone?"
"No! I would never!"
You stare him down, checking to see if he's lying. Most people look up and to the left when they're being untruthful.
You groan with exasperation. This is the worst day ever for you. Your only friend at your new school now knows your secret.
"Boys! Your food is getting cold."
This time Toji's calling for you. Meaning "get the lead out of your ass."
"Sorry," Junpei says again awkwardly.
"Really sorry."
...
You finish eating with far less enthusiasm than before your wardrobe malfunction. You tuned out Nagi and Toji's date conversation, absently pushing rice around on your plate to make it look like you've eaten more.
"I could use a hand with those dishes, boy," Toji murmurs, nudging you softly with an elbow, just enough to jostle you. He sounds almost apologetic, except he's giving you a chore.
"Fine," you grunt.
Toji reaches into his back pocket for his cigarette case.
"Would you care to step out on the balcony for a smoke with me?"
"Of course, I would," Nagi replies.
You perk up momentarily too,
"Sure."
Both adults turn to eye you suspiciously. Nagi seems unsure if you're joking or not, while Toji's face was a subtle message of "not now, you idiot."
"I mean...not me. You go smoke. I meant 'Sure' to that. Go enjoy your cigs...surely."
Toji shakes his head minutely, a bare tremor of incredulity. He only shared his smokes with you when it was just you two. One in the morning, one at night. That was his idea of responsible moderation.
"Your son has such a unique sense of humor."
"Haha! Yes he sure *does!* He kills me sometimes. Absolutely kills me." Toji bares his teeth in a stressed grin. You were sure to hear about this later.
After they step outside, you wait for him to turn his back to you, then you send a vulgar hand gesture his way before carrying your dishes from the table to the kitchen.
"I'll help you," Junpei offers, following behind you with another armload.
"Thanks."
Joining you next to the sink, he begins pushing the food scraps from the plates into the trash bin. He's oddly quiet with you now.
"Can I ask you something?"
Oh, boy. What did he want to know? In the past anyone who'd learned the secret about your body always made things weird afterwards with questions. It was usually something related to wanting to know what your genitals look like, or nosy inquiries about if you planned on getting surgery, what bathroom you pee in. You wonder what Junpei will come up with.
You prepare yourself, already, pre-annoyed.
"What?"
He chews his lower lip nervously.
"You don't...You don't really smoke do you?"
"Huh? That's what bothers you?"
He nods his head slowly. His bangs shivering with the movement. From where he's standing, his face is completely hidden by his hair.
You remember why he wears it like that, too.
"Only sometimes," you admit.
"I could quit whenever I want."
He's quiet for a few minutes, rinsing plates and loading them into their dishwasher.
"Do you want me to quit?"
"They're bad for you," he replies simply, as if that was sufficient reason enough. Like you didn't already know that.
"I asked if you want me to quit though."
This time he meets your gaze, but he looks annoyed with you.
"Yeah. I do in fact."
"...Okay."
"'Okay' what?"
You give him another plate to rinse.
"Okay, I'll stop smoking for you. But you have to keep my secret to yourself. Forever. Got it?"
"I would've done that anyway, I told you. And don't stop smoking for me, do it for yourself." Junpei reaches past you for the cast iron wok Toji make you carry.
"Well I clearly don't care about myself if I smoke, do I? Make sure you use a ton of soap on that."
He squeezes a generous amount over the surface and begins scrubbing at the grease.
"You should care about yourself," he complains.
"I care about you."
Hm. Now that's interesting.
"Really?" You crane your neck over to see if he's looking up and to the left. He isn't.
"Well, yeah. You're... my best friend."
You can tell he means it when he says it.
.
.
.
.