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The rumors swirled, passing between his classmates, but Kojiro didn’t care much for them. He knew that Kaoru was gay; hell, everyone did, since Kaoru never backed away from the rumors. Kojiro, himself, preferred women, but he knew that their classmates liked to say that he was gay, as well, having a secret affair with his best friend.
It didn’t matter; Kojiro knew the truth. And, anyway, who cared if he secretly was kissing Kaoru? Kaoru was, without argument, the most beautiful person in their class, boy or girl. It would be a privilege to kiss him.
All of that was no issue for Kojiro, who tended to let things run off his back, ignoring what people said. Kaoru took care of things in his own way, getting him in trouble with the school (and his parents) several times, however.
“Hey, Kojiro.”
Kojiro snaps his attention from the homework he was trying to hurry and finish before class started, looking up to see Kaoru standing over him. Kaoru put a hand down on his desk, leaning in close. “Yo,” Kojiro greeted him casually, turning back to a particularly hard English question.
With a glance to make sure nobody was paying them any attention, Kaoru gets straight to the point with his question. “Does it bother you that people think you’re gay?”
This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, but the last time they did, Kaoru was shit-faced and as close to crying as he’d ever get. “What are you getting at, Pinky?”
Proudly, Kaoru smirks, holding out a hastily scrawled note. The handwriting was terrible, so Kojiro knew that Kaoru didn’t write it himself. He couldn’t have written something that poorly if he tried. “I’m just saying you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Kojiro wanted to smack the jerk for sounding so smug, but instead he just took the note to read it over.
Meet me underneath the cherry blossom tree after class.
“Not even a ‘please’?” Kojiro raised a brow as he handed it back to Kaoru. “How do you know this is a guy, anyway? What if one of the girls wanted to confess to you?”
“What girl would want to confess to the only gay guy in school?” Kaoru countered.
“Apparently not the only gay guy,” Kojiro shrugs. “What if you’re not into this guy?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Kaoru shrugs.
“You’re going to date some guy you’re not interested in?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you idiot! I don’t know why I talk to you about these things if I keep having to spell them out for you. I’m not interested in any of the guys in our class, so I’m not going to accept their proposal, anyway. I just think it’ll help you not to worry about the rumors anymore.”
Again, Kojiro couldn’t care less about the rumors. He reassured a drunken Kaoru of this already, but obviously the words didn’t stick. “Kaoru I don’t care-”
Interrupting Kojiro’s words, the teacher slams open the classroom door, forcing the students milling about to hurry to their desks. It’s fine, Kojiro tells himself, he’ll explain to Kaoru later.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance, because Kaoru says something that pisses Kojiro off, and the two end up in their usual bickering match. They disrupt the class, annoy the teacher, and get punished with extra cleaning duties, and ultimately, Kojiro forgets what he wanted to tell Kaoru in the first place.
Kaoru has to run after classes are over to get to the cherry blossom tree, but he’s thankful he gets there before the other guy. He leans against the tree casually, staring up at its bright green leaves. It’s too late in the season for cherry blossom petals, which is fine, Kaoru isn’t into overly cheesy romantics.
For several minutes, nobody shows up. Kaoru’s tempted to leave, but he doesn’t want to just yet. What if the boy got in trouble the way he did? Surely nobody would be interested in him if they weren’t the type to get in trouble. He goes through the guys he knows in his class, in his year, and tries to think of who they could be.
A girl laughs, catching Kojiro’s attention. He was waiting in the courtyard, too, watching for who may choose to confess to his best friend. But the laughter grabs him, and he starts to listen in to their classmates’ conversation.
“I can’t believe he actually fell for it,” she giggles.
“I know,” another girl laughs. “The whole school is going to know he’s a loser soon.”
Kojiro can’t help the way his hands ball into fists, anger coursing through his veins. So the whole thing was just a set up to make Kaoru look like an idiot. It fills him with disgust, making Kojiro want to lash out at the girls.
But instead, he has a better idea. He marches toward the tree just as Kaoru is about to give up and leave, well aware of the eyes on him. He grabs Kaoru’s shoulders, turning around the disappointed, pink-haired boy, and presses his lips firmly against Kaoru’s.
The kiss is awkward, Kaoru too shocked to respond properly to it. But Kojiro can’t help noticing how smooth his lips are, how soft they are to kiss. He bumps their teeth together, clattering and weird, but that doesn’t matter. It’s not about the way they kiss.
It’s about how magnetic the kiss is, how it makes Kojiro feel like a thousand cherry blossom petals are fluttering in his stomach. It’s like hanami in his heart, a flurry of beautiful pink petals stirred like a snow globe, spinning around and around in his chest. He grips Kaoru tighter, who’s finally started to respond.
Kaoru purses his lips, responding to Kojiro’s kiss with one of his own. He melts in the larger boy’s hands, letting Kojiro’s grip guide him, as if he’s lost and Kojiro is the beacon guiding him back to reality. It’s beautiful and perfect all at once.
It’s the moment they fell in love.
~*~
Like a silent promise, the two never talk about that day together, though the school does. The rumors only spread more, and whenever they get to be too much, Kojiro would grab Kaoru’s hand in the locker room just to mess with the other boys. Every time, Kaoru would recoil, but it didn’t stop people from assuming they were in love.
Which, at least, Kaoru was in love. But he’d never spring that on his incredibly straight best friend who was clearly just trying to do him a favor. So instead, he keeps quiet about that day, and when they eventually graduate high school, even the random hand holding stops. Kaoru didn’t hold out hope that he was going to get more of that intimacy from his friend, but it still hurts when he realizes that he’ll never feel the touch of Kojiro’s hands again- at least, not when the man is being gentle.
It’s nearly a decade before Kojiro’s hands turn gentle once more, before they hold Kaoru with a sort of reverence like in high school when they played pretend at being boyfriends. And this time, Kaoru’s only barely conscious to feel it.
“Don’t move, Karou,” Kojiro demands frantically, throwing his jacket over Kaoru’s limp body in a desperate attempt to stop him from passing out. “We’re going to get you to the hospital.”
Kaoru doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, doesn’t even act in response to Kojiro’s pleas- he can’t. All he can do is lay there and hope that Kojiro is right and everything will be okay. Kaoru’s head is splitting with a headache, his body is in pain he doesn’t recognize even after years of skateboarding injuries, and he can’t focus on anything in front of him. He only knows he’s in a car because Kojiro says as much; hell, he only knows he’s injured because Kojiro says as much. He wonders if this is what dying feels like.
In the hospital, he’s separated from his friends. Kaoru doesn’t know this until he wakes up in his hospital bed all alone, a nurse telling him that she sent the other boys away for the night. Of course, Kaoru’s parents aren’t listed as his emergency contact, and Kojiro can’t stay the night because he’s not family, a curse that leaves Kaoru alone for the night. The nurse offers to call his family for him, but Kaoru declines that offer. He doesn’t want to worry his poor mother over something that’s probably no big deal.
When another nurse enters, she doesn’t say much to Kaoru. Kaoru didn’t even notice the first nurse leaving, nor the sun starting to rise. She nods politely to Kojiro, who Kaoru discovers is sitting in a comically small chair at the other side of the room, waiting for him to wake up. In a cruel irony, Kaoru thinks he falls back asleep instantly, since the next thing he knows it’s nighttime and Kojiro’s gone again.
“He was cute, wasn’t he?” The second nurse says, and Kaoru wonders why she suddenly decides to give him the time of day. Kaoru doesn’t respond to her- it’s none of her business, anyway. And how the hell did she guess so quickly that he was gay? “You know, I’m a bit magical.”
Right. If Kaoru had more energy and less of a headache, he’d roll his eyes at that statement. He feels like he’s about to fall asleep again when the nurse says more.
“You kids these days don’t appreciate what you have,” she tuts at him. “Honestly, to think you and that boy aren’t together when you clearly like each other so much.”
Kaoru almost grunts out in disgust at the way the woman makes so many assumptions on his life. It’s infuriating, and he’s locked into the hospital bed, forced to listen to a woman who dares call him a child.
“Maybe a little magic wouldn’t hurt you,” she winks at him, as if they’re co-conspirators in some stage play together. “If you won’t tell the boy how you feel, then you won’t tell anybody anything.”
Instinctively, Kaoru wants to argue, to call the woman an idiot or even demand a different nurse be assigned to him. But his eyes are suddenly heavy, and his body forces him into sleep once more. When he wakes up, he inevitably will decide that the vague, flimsy memories he kept of the strange nurse were just a dream.
~*~
Kojiro’s the first one to notice something’s wrong.
It starts when Kaoru is fully awake- thank god he’s fully awake, Kojiro can’t help but think yet would never say- and just glares uselessly at Kojiro. He opens his mouth a few times to speak, but nothing comes out. At first, Kojiro thinks Kaoru’s messing with him, but it goes on too long to be some stupid joke Kaoru’s playing. And practical jokes aren’t really like him.
Kojiro hands him his phone (Kaoru’s was destroyed during the ‘accident’, as they’re calling it), but Kaoru’s fingers just hover over the buttons. When given a pen and paper, Kaoru has the same reaction. It’s clear to Kojiro that Karou is thinking something, but nothing comes out of his mouth or his hands.
The doctors take Kaoru away for testing, and Kojiro is forced to sit alone in the cold waiting room, waiting for what feels like eternity. It’s nearly five hours later when Kojiro finally gets called back to the room.
Kaoru sits in bed, arms crossed petulantly over his chest, glaring down at his lap. Kojiro can swear he sees the slightest pout on his lips, a tantrum contained by the mature and socially acceptable adult Kaoru has constructed himself to be. He can see the way the three-year-old Kojiro met long ago wants to come out and scream and cry.
So, the tests didn’t go well.
“It’s likely a result of the injuries to his head,” the doctor explains to Kojiro, since Kaoru can’t relay the message, himself. “A form of aphasia, where even if he can understand what we’re saying and respond in his mind, he can’t get the words out.”
“Will it get better?” Kojiro asks, feeling like the idiot that Kaoru always calls him when all he can do is stare uselessly at the doctor, at the heart rate monitor, at anything except Kaoru.
“It’s too early to say,” the doctor answers honestly. “We’ll continue to monitor his progress.”
There’s nothing more encouraging the doctor is able to say other than ‘we’ll see’, so after saying that about a thousand times, the man bows politely and leaves the room.
Kojiro sighs, falling into the chair more than sitting in it, and glances over at Kaoru. “So, you can’t talk?” A glare. “Yeah, that should have been obvious. I don’t know, I guess I’m just not used to you not being able to run your mouth.” Another glare. “Hey, you’re the one who always starts the fights. I just finish them.”
It’s enough to get an almost smirk out of Kaoru, so Kojiro considers himself successful. He tries a few ways of trying to communicate with Kaoru- pointing at words in a book, sign language, charades- but ultimately realizes that he’s just going to have to do the talking for the both of them.
It’s fine, Kojiro tells himself, he always did want a silent Kaoru. (Except, not really.)
~*~
The rest of the hospital stay is, thankfully, uneventful. Kaoru doesn’t get any further answers on his condition, nor do the doctors find a way for him to communicate more than pointed looks at Kojiro and nodding or shaking his head. Even miming out his words is difficult, thanks to the fact that half his limbs are broken and too much movement gives him a headache. Plus, he’d rather not look like a massive idiot flailing about in a wheelchair or hospital bed.
Kojiro tells Kaoru’s parents that he’s in the hospital, and it takes a feat of sheer determination for Kaoru to get it through to Kojiro that he doesn’t want them to fly halfway across Japan to visit him. He’s not dying, and he’ll be out soon enough, and he can’t even talk to them. What’s the point of visiting him now?
Of course, his parents offer to send money, which Kojiro is successfully able to deny on Kaoru’s behalf. Money isn’t going to help the situation, and Kaoru is doing well enough on his own that he isn’t worried about missing commissions for the next couple of months. It was the slow season, anyway.
Somehow, Kojiro is even able to email Kaoru’s clients on his behalf and explain that he was in a terrible accident and needs to postpone their commissions. They all send well wishes to Kaoru and promises that they can wait on their pieces for his recovery. Most of them were completed, anyway, just needing final approval from his client, and Kaoru’s assistant could take care of that much for him.
Ultimately, Kaoru should be proud of his (not so) idiot best friend for getting Kaoru’s affairs settled. Instead, he’s faced with the realization that, if things had gone a little worse, Kojiro would be planning his funeral rather than his break from work. It leaves a sinking feeling in Kaoru’s gut, and he tries to ignore that fact.
But how much would he regret if he was dying. Or dead.
A vague image pops into his mind, a nurse who doesn’t seem to care much about Kaoru’s situation. He tries to remember what she said to him, but the memories are as foggy as the ones he has of Adam’s brutal attack. ‘It’s to be expected,’ the doctors always said when Kojiro told them that Kaoru didn’t remember much of the incident. Something about head trauma and just ‘the way things go’. As if the doctors could care less about Kaoru’s situation, as if the doctors just wanted to get on with their rounds and leave the poor pouting patient behind. Because that’s all Kaoru could do anymore- pout and stamp his one good foot to express his discontent with his situation.
So much for the eloquent calligrapher who could create beautiful works of art with just a few simple kanji. Kaoru feels like he barely knows that part of himself anymore.
He can feel Kojiro’s eyes on him, and looking over confirms that he’s right. He offers Kojiro a glare, a reminder that the other man should be looking at the road rather than at Kaoru. Kojiro, seemingly unbothered with the whole situation, just chuckles as he turns his attention back toward the unmoving traffic.
“We’re not getting anywhere for a while,” Kojiro explains, and Kaoru glances through the windshield to see rows of backed up cars along the street. Emergency response lights flash up ahead, signaling that there’s been some sort of accident. Kaoru gets that sinking feeling once more, wondering how easy it would have been for it to be them.
What would he regret if he died today?
Kaoru shakes his head, banishing the thoughts of regrets and death. He doesn’t need to think so grimly- he was simply in the hospital for a small skating injury. Sure, it was a week that he was out, but Kaoru thinks that’s mostly because the doctors wanted to have some miraculous discovery on his inability to communicate. Really, he should have been home once they set his arm and leg into a cast- he’s not truly sick and dying. Hell, even Shadow is supposed to go home tomorrow, only three days after he got into the hospital, and Kaoru thinks that a baseball bat to the head is a lot worse than a skateboard to the face.
At least he got Carla working again- not that Kaoru could use her thanks to his inability to talk. As smart as the AI was, she couldn’t read his mind. So, Kaoru left her with Shadow for the night, a way for him to watch the S races without being there.
“Stop thinking about it,” Kojiro says, his words cutting through Kaoru’s thoughts. What does the idiot even know about what Kaoru was thinking about? Kaoru glares, expressing as much, but this time Kojiro isn’t looking at him to see it. “S is tonight. I can skip if you want someone to stay with you.”
Kojiro is still staring straight ahead, so Kaoru has to weakly punch him in the chest with his good arm for Kojiro to pick up on what Kaoru’s trying to say. “I get it,” Kojiro sighs, “but I still don’t feel comfortable leaving you by yourself.”
The obvious answer, at least to Kaoru, is to just let him go to S, as well. It’s not like he would be skating, so it couldn’t be that dangerous. It must be a stupid idea, though, because Kojiro says the exact same idea out loud a moment later. But, like the idiot Kaoru is (not that he’d ever admit to that out loud), he nods his head, agreeing with Kojiro that he should just go to S that night.
Besides, he has a particularly petty desire to see someone kick Adam’s ass for once. He doesn’t really think it will be Reki, of all people, but just in case, Kaoru has to be there.
~*~
“If we’re going to S,” Kojiro says sternly, arms crossed in front of him, “then you’re taking a bath first.”
Kaoru would love nothing more than to take a bath, especially after the disastrously lengthy drive home, but there’s one problem- he can’t bathe by himself right now. And he’d rather die than let Kojiro help him with something so simple. He’s not that desperate, and accepting Kojiro’s help feels like admitting defeat to some unspoken rivalry they constantly have between themselves.
He thinks, for a moment, it might have been better to let his mom come take care of him, instead. She did offer, though Kaoru felt guilty about interrupting her busy schedule.
“Come on, Kaoru,” Kojiro groans when Kaoru does his best to fight Kojiro back instead of easily moving to the bathroom. “You smell worse than I did when I tried that new body spray in high school.”
Kaoru’s nose wrinkles at the memory. It wasn’t long before he and Kojiro shared their kiss, when Kojiro wanted to ask out Nanami Kaede, the most popular girl in their grade. Kojiro somehow convinced himself that he could get her attention by trying a new body spray, and Kaoru hadn’t laughed as hard in his life when it worked; she definitely noticed him because he smelled so bad. Despite how awful the smell was, however, Kaoru thinks of the memory fondly, though he never mentions that to Kojiro. It was one of the last times Kaoru truly felt like a kid, free and alive and able to make watch his friend make stupid mistakes without worrying about it ruining either of their lives. He misses that freedom.
Not sure if it was being lost in thought or the pain medication that Kojiro forced him to take, Kaoru suddenly notices his loss of time when he’s sitting in the wheelchair at the edge of the tub. It’s nearly full, and Kaoru gently dips his fingers into the water to test the temperature, knowing that Kojiro is likely to make it too cold.
“Forty degrees Celsius, just like you require it, princess,” Kojiro rolls his eyes, but Kaoru thinks there’s a hint of fondness to his voice. He dismisses the thought as soon as he has it, though, knowing that Kojiro doesn’t feel that way about him. Kaoru’s feelings are his alone to deal with, he doesn’t need to make things awkward with his best friend.
Or, Kaoru thinks bitterly, his only real friend. He’s always been somewhat envious of the way Kojiro can just make friends, get close to people, while Kaoru tends to be more shut off and distant. Kojiro always makes it seem so easy but to Kaoru, making true friends is the hardest thing in the world.
Kojiro often likes to tell Kaoru that he has plenty of friends, but Kaoru thinks Kojiro is just an idiot who doesn’t understand the difference between ‘fan club’ and ‘friend’. Or, lately, ‘annoying pest at S who somehow has decided that Kaoru is his mentor’ and ‘friend’.
“You’re drifting again.”
Once more, Kaoru snaps back to reality at the realization that Kojiro is talking to him. Kojiro laughs again, that beautiful laugh that Kaoru hates how much he loves, and explains. “You’ve been a little out of it since you took your pain meds. I’d let you sleep, but I’m afraid you’d drown. Don’t worry, you have time to sleep a little before we have to get ready for the race.”
Kaoru’s eyelids droop heavily and he leans against Kojiro’s large, strong arms. The plastic wrapped around his leg and arm crinkle with the movement, and Kaoru notices that Kojiro is taking care to avoid all of the other bandages on his body. He wonders how long he’ll need help bathing like this, how he’s going to look after the bandages are removed. He prides himself on his extravagant (‘extra’ Kojiro calls it) skin care routine, and the flawless skin that follows, even after several skateboarding injuries. How’s he going to look now?
“You’re so vain I can practically hear your thoughts,” Kojiro teases him, as if it’s a teasing matter. “Don’t worry so much. Nobody’s going to notice if you have a little scar on your face.”
Kaoru frowns, but Kojiro just dabs the edge of his mouth with the washcloth, pushing the corner up to force him into a smile. “You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep scowling, and aren’t wrinkles worse than a scar?”
Kaoru uses the last of his energy to slap Kojiro’s arm, but the exhaustion leaves the attack weak and effortless. Kojiro feigns hurt, anyway, and Kaoru wonders why it makes his heart flutter to see Kojiro act so normal with him.
It’s none of Kojiro’s concern, Kaoru reminds himself. Their careful friendship lives on a delicate balance of not admitting his deepest secret, not confessing his feelings for his best friend, because the wrong words could mean the end of everything. And Kaoru would rather have a friendship he’s forced to live in secrecy through than lose someone like Kojiro from his life. Forever.
~*~
When Kaoru wakes from his nap, Kojiro is already ready for S. He helps Kaoru to the best of his ability, but it takes a lot of effort to get the man dressed and eyeliner done. Kojiro didn’t think that eyeliner could be so difficult.
“Seriously,” he complains the whole ride to the mountain. “It’s just a little black line on your eye. Why did we need to make it through six different tries before you let us leave?”
Of course, Kaoru doesn’t speak in response. Kojiro is finding that hard to get used to, a silent Kaoru. He’s so used to the man’s cutting tongue that having empty looks and halfhearted gestures doesn’t feel right.
He tried to convince Kaoru to bring a pen and paper with them, just in case he suddenly found the ability to write again, but Kaoru refused. Kojiro thinks it’s because Kaoru’s more afraid of his inability to write than he lets on. It makes sense- Kaoru’s entire career is based on his ability to write, and losing that…
Kojiro wonders what it would be like if he suddenly couldn’t cook, suddenly couldn’t show Kaoru how he feels the only way possible- through food. Kojiro makes a mental note to make carbonara when they get home from S. Kaoru deserves it after everything he’s been through in the last week.
He doesn’t even notice how he grips the steering wheel tighter when they show up at S, or how he tries to keep them in the car for as long as possible. It’s not that he’s worried Kaoru’s going to get hurt- there isn’t much more hurt that Kaoru could get at this point- but he’s worried about what will happen when they see him.
Adam. Adam with his smug smile, the way he’ll blow off everything that happened. The way that Adam won’t even care about what he did to Kaoru, the way he won’t even see Kaoru as a real skater, a real person, after what he did. He won’t apologize, and Kojiro’s afraid that’s what Kaoru expects.
But Kojiro can’t keep them at the parking area for long, especially when Kaoru taps his good foot impatiently, expectantly, waiting for Kojiro to help him into the wheelchair. Kojiro just sighs, trying to act like it’s Kaoru’s impatience that’s the problem and not his own anxiety over seeing their old friend. “Seriously, princess, give me a minute.”
Steeling his nerves, Kojiro finally helps Kaoru into the wheelchair, and pushes him toward the viewing screens like he wasn’t about to have a mental breakdown. He makes light, one-sided conversation, mostly trying to convince himself that everything is normal between them.
“You guys made it!” Reki’s smile can practically be felt from across the open area, and Kojiro pushes Kaoru toward where the group stands- Miya and Langa hovering over Reki and trying to convince him to get out of the race. “I was hoping you’d come see me win.”
Kaoru huffs out a breath, and Kojiro decides not to translate that for the others. They can probably figure it out for themselves.
“Dude, seriously, look at Cherry,” Miya almost whines, a desperation in his tone that Kojiro didn’t expect to hear. “You could end up like that. Or worse.”
A look of offense crosses Kaoru’s face, and the others recognize it immediately.
“I’m just saying you look like shit,” Miya doubles down, making the situation both worse and more hilarious (at least to Kojiro). A cheeky grin crosses his face before he says the next words. “If you’re so mad about it, why don’t you fight me over it.”
Kojiro glares at Miya as he has to physically contain Kaoru in the wheelchair. How Kaoru can insist he and Miya are nothing alike is beyond Kojiro.
“Look, Reki,” Langa puts a gentle hand on Reki- too gentle. Kojiro wonders what Kaoru would do if he touched him like that. “We’re just worried for you.”
“Don’t be,” Reki grins, giving them all a thumbs up. “I have a plan.”
It’s weird to watch the race without Kaoru’s commentary. Kojiro can feel the heavy silence between the two of them as they watch, waiting for something to change- for a need to rush Reki to the hospital this time. But somehow, the kid holds his own, having learned from Kaoru’s own race. He avoids the full swing kiss, and even gains an advantage over Adam for a short while.
But the most unbelievable part of the race, the part that will haunt Kojiro’s most perfect dreams for years to come, is hearing Kaoru laugh again. Not the self-confident, momentary breath that Kaoru calls laughter, but genuine laughter that Kaoru doesn’t seem to be able to control. Kojiro watches as he wipes tears from his eyes; he may not be able to speak, but Kojiro knows exactly what that laughter means.
Serves Adam right.
It’s infectious, causing Kojiro to fall into his own pit of laughter. He hears Miya and Langa laughing near them, too, and soon everyone at S falls into a fit of true laughter. It’s not even at Adam, not at this point, but instead laughter that rings itself with Kaoru, laughter that promises the great Lord Cherry Blossom that he still has support on the mountain, even after everything.
Kojiro hopes he can hear that laughter again one day, when Kaoru can speak, when Kaoru has to catch his breath to say the words that he can only think for now. But at least he can hear it, for the first time in years. Kaoru’s real laugh.
~*~
Kaoru thinks that, after everything that night, he may not need to deal with Adam directly at all. He’s tentatively grateful for this fact, hopeful that he won’t have to talk (or, worse, not talk) to Adam, and regretful that even he couldn’t manage to reach his old friend.
The good luck streak runs out when he and Kojiro are headed toward the parking area. Kaoru is tired, in pain, frustrated at his inability to communicate with the others (Kojiro had to guess at most of what Kaoru wanted to say, and the worst part was the idiot was right), and angry that he can’t even do something as simple as walking on his own yet. So, when he sees that flash of bold blue hair over the hill, he nearly shoves Kojiro aside in an attempt to wheel himself in any other direction than in the way of Adam.
Kojiro, however, doesn’t notice Adam in time, and his strength and annoyance with Kaoru’s general resistance to being in a wheelchair in the first place means that Kojiro forces them to come face to face with Adam in front of his car. Before Kaoru can do anything, Kojiro lets out a growl, low and protective, almost animalistic in nature. “Adam,” he greets the man without a hint of friendliness.
“Thought I’d check and see how my darling little Blossom is doing,” Adam grins, smug and self-assured as always, as if he’s truly concerned about Kaoru’s well-being. Kaoru wants to gag, but he’s afraid that the action would cause the nausea building in him to bubble over into an embarrassing moment of sickness. “But now that I’ve seen, I feel suddenly bored again. I wonder if you truly do just have that effect on people.”
Just as Kaoru is trying to pull himself out of the wheelchair to give Adam a piece of his own mind, he hears a sickening sound of Kojiro’s fist connecting with Adam’s cheek. He watches Kojiro shake off his hand, flexing his fingers as he looks down at Adam. “Sorry, thought I’d liven things up for you.”
In the time it takes Adam to recover from shock, Kojiro is able to push past him and get Kaoru back to the car.
“Don’t you give me that look,” Kojiro practically snaps as he slides into place in the drivers seat once Kaoru is secure. Kaoru still thinks ‘what the hell’, and he knows his face shows it. “What’s Adam going to do? Call the cops on us? He cares too much about S and skating for that kind of shit. And he deserves it. He’s lucky I didn’t put him into the hospital.”
Kaoru’s neck practically snaps as he looks away forcefully, staring out of the window as Kojiro starts to drive them home. It’s a long time, Kaoru watching the lights pass by for what feels like hours, before Kojiro speaks up again.
“Look, Kaoru, I just… I love you, okay? I love you and don’t want to see you get hurt again. Not by some idiot who thinks real emotion comes from whacking each other with skateboards. Okay?”
Kaoru doesn’t know if he should pretend to be asleep or what, because hearing Kojiro say ‘I love you’ so casually hurts. Like Kojiro could understand anything about real love? Kaoru knows that he throws that term around freely, sharing it with friends, family, even the girls he’s brought to bed for one night stands with him. What does Kojiro possibly know about the love that Kaoru feels? What gives Kojiro the right to tell Kaoru he loves him, when after all these years he’s never said as much, and will never mean as much as Kaoru wants him to?
Somehow, in his long moment of silent decision making, Kaoru seems to have upset Kojiro. He can tell by the way Kojiro slams the car door just a little too hard when he gets out, the way Kojiro isn’t as gentle when he helps Kaoru into the wheelchair. The way that Kojiro doesn’t look at Kaoru the rest of the night and doesn’t try and figure out what Kaoru could be trying to say to him.
It’s like Kojiro never meant to tell Kaoru he loved him, after all.
~*~
Kojiro leans against the bathroom door, listening for any sign of Kaoru falling off the toilet. It feels a little ridiculous, and Kaoru clearly thinks so since he threw a fit about Kojiro trying to stay in the bathroom with him, but Kojiro just needs to know that Kaoru’s okay.
‘If you’re listening I can’t pee.’ Kojiro can practically hear Kaoru yelling at him through the door, even if he knows that Kaoru still can’t speak. Kaoru had always been shy when it came to others hearing (or worse, observing) him in bathrooms and locker rooms. It was probably one of the things Kojiro loved first about him- the way that, even through his unwavering confidence, Kaoru was just… cute. Kojiro didn’t know a better way to say it.
Alone with his thoughts, Kojiro can’t help but remember what he said to Kaoru last night in the car. Was he really so stupid to confess his love like that? Kaoru couldn’t even tell him how stupid he was for saying that, and yet Kojiro forced him to hear it. Kaoru should be recovering, not dealing with Kojiro’s stupid crush he’s been harboring since the day he kissed Kaoru beneath the cherry blossom tree.
He originally only did it so Kaoru wouldn’t feel like an idiot, so those girls wouldn’t do anything to him. Sure, Kaoru could handle himself against a few catty bullies, but that didn’t mean Kojiro needed to make him handle himself. Especially when the answer was so easy. And yet, that was when Kojiro knew he couldn’t live without loving Kaoru.
It was so hard when he was in Italy, away from Kaoru for so long that even their 2am for Kaoru video calls started to feel empty. But as soon as Kojiro came back to Okinawa, seeing Kaoru at the airport to pick him up, Kojiro knew he was home. Home wasn’t Okinawa, though. Home was Kaoru.
A crash in the bathroom startles Kojiro from his thoughts, but when he tries to open the door he finds that Kaoru locked it. Banging on the door in fear and frustration, Kojiro shouts, “Kaoru, let me in. What the hell is going on in there?”
Of course, Kaoru doesn’t say anything, but Kojiro does hear the sound of the sink running. He thinks it’s meant to reassure him, but all it does is worry him more, until Kaoru finally opens the door, leaning against the wall as he drags himself with his one unbroken foot back into the wheelchair. He has a self-satisfied look on his face, though, and looking inside the bathroom, Kojiro can see that Kaoru managed to knock over Kojiro’s (and only Kojiro’s) soap bottle.
“Seriously? Asshole,” Kojiro scoffs, but it’s fond, full of love and adoration for Kaoru that he’s sure Kaoru doesn’t pick up on. Or, worse, he wonders if Kaoru purposefully ignores it. “Are you trying to make me worry about you?”
Kaoru just shrugs in a dismissive response, and Kojiro rolls his eyes as he pushes them back to the living room. It’s a rare day off for Kojiro, and while he’d normally be at the gym working out or even doing prep work at his restaurant, this time it seemed more important to stay with his unwilling patient. Because Kaoru was nothing if not unwilling to sit still and recover.
“What do you want to do?” Kojiro asks, picking up the remote and holding it out to Kaoru. There’s not much more that Kojiro is willing to let Kaoru do besides watching boring daytime television. But Kaoru just slaps away the remote, nearly knocking it out of Kojrio’s hand. “Come on, don’t be a brat. It’s not like you can go out anywhere like this.”
A glare, something Kojiro was already used to, yet was now growing even more familiar with. Part of him sympathized with Kaoru, knowing that he wouldn’t take being forced to lay down and rest so easily, either. If it were Kojiro in the wheelchair, he’d be begging Kaoru to let him go skate, even if he had only one good foot.
But it wasn’t Kojiro in the wheelchair, it was Kaoru- the only person Kojiro found he cared more about than himself. Hell, even Kojiro’s own family didn’t measure up to the way he cared about Kaoru, and now Kojiro had to throw it all away just like the idiot that Kaoru always said he was, just because he couldn’t hold his confession in any longer.
Somehow, it’s even easier to argue with Kaoru when he can’t talk. A few more pointed looks and obvious demands to be freed from his medical prison made Kojiro fall down that trap, taking it like the bait it was. He argues despite being the only one with a voice, an argument that quickly devolves from being about Kaoru’s freedom and becoming about which one of them is the bigger idiot. Kojiro says it’s Kaoru, who was stupid enough to get hit in the face with a skateboard in the first place, but he knows it’s himself.
God, how badly he knows it’s himself.
~*~
Being forced to watch soap opera movies all day with Kojiro made Kaoru feel even more miserable about his situation. These characters, who Kaoru hated with a fiery passion, always managed to get the guy of their dreams, yet Kaoru couldn’t. It was like every movie was a personal affront to his situation, a mockery of his lack of boyfriend and refusal to settle for anyone but Kojiro. The daytime television knew his struggles and decided to throw them in his face.
That, and the rest of the plot was impossible to follow, which Kaoru wasn’t sure if that was just how it was or if he had taken too much of his pain medication. Still, when dinner time finally rolls around and Kojiro brings Kaoru into the kitchen with him, Kaoru is beyond angry at his situation, ready to throw a tantrum that would make his three-year-old self jealous.
If he could talk, he would be whining at Kojiro for not letting him help cook. It’s not that Kaoru was a great cook- in fact, he was terrible, even Kaoru would admit that himself. But he was competent enough to help cut the vegetables that Kojiro has gathered or even help boil the water. He wasn’t an idiot, after all.
“No way,” Kojiro says instantly when he sees Kaoru’s face- he must know exactly what Kaoru is thinking. “I’m not letting you anywhere near a knife right now.” An offended scowl. “Seriously? How about because you only have one hand, dumbass?” Kaoru sticks his nose in the air, and he can feel the rage emanating from Kojiro. “No.”
I could still stab you with one hand, Kaoru thinks, and then doesn’t think, because his next move is to reach for the knife that Kojiro is holding, gripping the handle with his one good hand. Kojiro instinctively jerks back, not thinking of the consequences, pulling the knife toward him to try and take it away from Kaoru.
Lots of blood and a poorly bandaged hand later, the two are in the car on the way to the hospital.
~*~
All that can go through Kojiro’s mind as he drives them to the hospital is watching Kaoru laying on the ground, unmoving. The way that Kaoru’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything, the way that Kaoru had the blankest expression that Kojiro had ever seen. The blood on the ground that still stains the dirt at S. How Kaoru looked dead more than anything else.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kaoru clutching the towel they used as a makeshift bandage with his good hand, while the broken one is held tightly against his chest. Kaoru would never admit it, but Kojiro knows he has a mild fear of blood. It used to be worse, before they started skating, but he had to learn to get used to it with the inevitable injuries that came from the board. Now, though, Kaoru is shaking and pale, and it’s not just from his injury.
Kojiro wonders if Kaoru, too, is remembering what Adam did to him now- or if Kaoru even remembers that night at all. They haven’t really talked about it (well, Kojiro hasn’t talked at Kaoru about it), and Kojiro is afraid to bring it up, honestly. What if it triggers a panic attack in Kaoru? It’s been nearly three years since the last bad one, and Kojiro worries that he would just cause Kaoru to need to go back to the hospital again if he brings up the full swing kiss.
Then again, Kojiro thinks, he already is causing Kaoru to need to go back to the hospital. If he hadn’t been so stupid with the knife, or maybe even if he’d allowed Kaoru to do something to help with dinner, things wouldn’t be this bad. Kojiro wouldn’t be driving them to the emergency room, Kaoru wouldn’t be bleeding, he wouldn’t be remembering that night.
God, that night.
Kojiro doesn’t know how to shake it from his memories, how to forget the way Adam looked down at Kaoru like he was nothing more than a pest. How Adam so heartlessly attacked the love of Kojiro’s life, the person that Kojiro couldn’t imagine spending a day without. The person who Kojiro almost had to learn to live without.
Kojiro thinks that he’s the one who’s going to be sick soon.
Somehow, though, they manage to make it to the emergency room without either of them passing out. Kojiro fills out the forms for Kaoru, who doesn’t have a hand free to write, and flirts with the nurse a bit for good measure. It never hurts to be a little extra kind, he always says, and it works out because she bumps them up on the waiting list.
Kaoru, of course, just rolls his eyes once they’re alone in a room. “Hey, I was just being friendly,” Kojiro says defensively, knowing that his goal was to flirt- that he wanted Kaoru to be upset at him. He wanted Kaoru to say (or, not say) something about the other night, about Kojiro saying he’s in love. He just wants a reaction out of Kaoru, and he’s sure that Kaoru refuses to give him what he’s looking for.
If the bloody rag weren’t so important to Kaoru, he would be throwing it at Kojiro. Kojiro is sure of this, just by the angry look in Kaoru’s eyes. So, Kojiro guesses, the flirting did upset him a little. It always had before, so Kojiro can’t be certain it has anything to do with his confession, but Kaoru seems a particular brand of upset that isn’t usual for him. Like something really hurt him and he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Not that he could talk about it anyway. Because, as Kojiro reminds himself, he can’t talk at all. Because Adam attacked him. Because Kojiro failed to stop him from racing the asshole. Because Kojiro fucking failed Kaoru.
It’s like a nightmare that he can’t wake from- watching Kaoru’s face get bashed in by a skateboard over and over, watching as Kaoru falls to the ground. Watching an unmoving Kaoru, trying to get him somewhere safe. Somewhere that smells of alcohol and antiseptic- somewhere that reeks of death and suffering. Somewhere Kaoru shouldn’t belong but somehow has made himself a home at.
It scares Kojiro to think of how much Kaoru has been to the hospital lately. A place that Kaoru fears- no amount of confident and cool bravado can hide from Kojiro the way a little version of his friend shakes and tries to hide from the doctors. Kojiro remembers late nights in the hospital when they were young, holding Kaoru’s hand so that he’d let the doctors draw his blood. Kojiro remembers falling asleep in the same uncomfortable bed as Kaoru because Kaoru would scream and cry until the nurses let the boys stay together for the night. Kojiro remembers it all, even if Kaoru pretends to forget about it.
That little kid is still in Kaoru somewhere, no matter how strong he acts.
~*~
Despite the nurse getting them into a room faster, Kaoru doesn’t think that the doctor shows up any quicker in response to Kojiro’s flirting. He wants to try flexing his hand, but every time he moves the muscles a sharp pain shoots through his hand, and the nerves start to tingle. He doesn’t think he did any lasting damage, thankfully, but it is uncomfortable for the moment.
Kojiro tries to lighten the mood by making stupid jokes, which Kaoru just shoots him a sharp glare at each one. Soon the stupid jokes turn into one-sided argumentative quips, which Kaoru makes worse by giving rude gestures in response. When Kojiro tries to tell Kaoru it’s Kaoru’s fault for being in the hospital again, Kaoru turns away and stops responding at all.
Of course Kaoru knows it’s his fault. He’s the idiot who grabbed the knife bare-handed in the first place. He’s the idiot who just wanted to help when he was supposed to be focused on recovering. He’s the idiot who wanted to prove to Kojiro that he’s still useful, that he didn’t suddenly become worthless once he took a skateboard to the face.
But he’s not going to admit that to Kojiro. Instead, Kaoru just acts like he thinks it’s Kojiro’s fault and lets Kojiro try to goad him into responding once more. He’s not going to give in; Kaoru spent too much of his teenage years giving his parents the silent treatment to suddenly lose to Kojiro. Especially when he has the advantage of not being able to talk.
The doctor comes in, interrupting the petty argument the two insisted on having. Kaoru can tell it’s the end of her shift, since she’s tired and barely interested in making conversation with Kojiro (serves him right, Kaoru thinks). She stitches up his hand with practiced skill, gives him some more pain medication just in case, and sends the boys on their way. The bloody rag is discarded in a biohazard waste bin on their way out, and if not for the fresh stitches and bandages on Kaoru’s previously good hand, it would be as if nothing happened.
Kaoru doesn’t want nothing to have happened. He doesn’t like the thought of just leaving things as they are, sulking about Kojiro’s idiotic word choice and pouting about being left alone again. Somewhere, deep in his heart, resolve stirs, and he decides he’s going to do something about the situation.
What that something is, however, he doesn’t know. He can’t talk, can’t write (and even if he could think of the words to write, now both of his hands are out of commission), and can’t even send a text. Carla, though she does know all of his secrets, can’t help him here because she’s been programmed to secrecy, and he can’t undo that program in his current state. And with nothing to do but wait until he can finally speak again, Kaoru’s forced to hope that Kojiro just brings it up again.
Unlikely.
He plots and plans the whole drive home, and by time they arrive at Kojiro’s place once more, Kaoru is no further into his ideas than he was from the start. He feels like there is well and truly no way he can do this without Kojiro saying something. Not unless he starts dropping wildly uncharacteristic hints, and no matter how desperate he is, Kaoru isn’t about to act like some lovesick fool. He’s too mature for that.
“You okay?” Kojiro asks as he helps Kaoru out of the car and back into the wretched wheelchair that’s been his cage for the last few days. “You’ve been quiet. Which is unlike you.”
Everything about this is unlike him, Kaoru wants to scream. He’s not the type to just sit around quietly when something needs to get done, yet that’s what he’s forced to do now. But it’s not like he can just say that to Kojiro- if he could, then none of these problems would have happened in the first place.
“Whining’s not going to get you anywhere,” Kojiro reminds him, poking at the edges of Kaoru’s mouth where a pout was beginning to form. “Come on, I still need to make dinner for us.”
Kaoru isn’t hungry anymore, not after the blood and the doctor visit, but he sits quietly in the living room while Kojiro cooks, this time not wanting to get involved in the activities of the kitchen. He doesn’t know how Kojiro can use that knife like it’s nothing, like it didn’t slice Kaoru’s hand a few hours ago and like it wasn’t just covered in his blood.
When Kojiro finishes cooking, he sets a steaming plate of carbonara in front of Kaoru. “Figured you could use something comforting,” Kojiro shrugs, holding out a fork in between them. Both of the men take pause, staring at the fork, then at Kaoru’s hands. Kaoru’s face says it all. “It’s our only option.” No. “C’mon, Kaoru, there’s seriously no other choice.” No! “Please? I promise not to make any weird airplane noises.” I hate you. “I hate you, too, but you’re not getting anywhere with no hands right now.”
Fine, Kaoru’s face shows exactly how much he hates having to give in, but Kojiro’s right. He doesn’t have any way to feed himself right now without Kojiro’s help. So he swallows his pride and lets the other man feed him his dinner, as humiliating as it is. Kaoru hopes that Kojiro isn’t actually in love with him, because he’s sure this infantilizing moment is enough to make Kojiro change his mind.
But if it doesn’t, and Kaoru secretly prays that it doesn’t, he just wants to hear Kojiro say it again.
~*~
After a long bath (both for himself and Kaoru), and getting them both into pajamas, Kojiro lays Kaoru in his bed, before heading to take the couch. Kaoru’s been suspiciously quiet all night, even for not being able to talk, enough that Kojiro is worried that something’s wrong, worried that he said something wrong when he confessed his feelings for Kaoru. Maybe Kaoru was trying to think of a way to tell Kojiro that he didn’t want to be friends anymore. The thought of losing Kaoru’s friendship is enough to make Kojiro feel sick, so when he lays Kaoru in bed, he goes to the living room to spend a few moments alone.
His thoughts and oppressive loneliness are worse than being with Kaoru, Kojiro soon realizes. He tries to lift the weights he keeps in the corner of the living room, flips through more mind-numbingly terrible television, even tries to eat the leftover carbonara from dinner. But nothing feels right, nothing distracts him from the fact that he knows he should own up to what he did.
Kaoru’s asleep by the time he sneaks into the bedroom, likely passed out thanks to the pain medication. Considering that Kaoru is typically caught in long periods of insomnia, it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully for once. Kojiro wonders for a moment what Kaoru is dreaming about, and whether or not he should wake his friend from that slumber. Kaoru must sense he’s being watched, however, as he soon stirs awake and stares directly at Kojiro.
It should be uncomfortable, being watched like that while he strips from his shirt and climbs into bed next to Kaoru, but somehow it feels nice. Like he’s been missing the chance to be watched by Kaoru for years, like they’re meant to be together like this. It’s a selfish thought, and one that Kojiro is finally going to be brave enough to give voice to. If Kaoru wants to leave after all of that, Kojiro will just have to accept this.
“I meant it, you know,” Kojiro starts, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he lays down on his side, facing Kaoru. Kaoru lays on his back, the rest of his body in too much pain to lean on, but turns his head awkwardly to face Kojiro. Kojiro can tell from the look in his eyes that Kaoru isn’t sure what he’s talking about. Fair, but Kojiro doesn’t want to just say it, either. “The other night, in the car. I meant what I said to you.”
Clearly Kaoru knows what Kojiro’s talking about now, because his eyes lower into an angered glare. And, sure, Kojiro admits that maybe he shouldn’t have just brought it up, but they need to talk about it. Or, as close as they can get to talking about it. “Kaoru, look.” Kaoru opens his mouth to interrupt but is unsuccessful. “I’m serious, Kaoru, we need to talk. Well, I need to talk, which means you need to listen.” Another attempted interruption fails, and Kaoru’s pouty face makes it clear that he is unwillingly accepting his position in this discussion. “I meant what I said. And I know that means you probably want to leave, but I can’t keep doing this if I’m not honest with you. I love you, Kaoru; I’ve always loved you. Probably even since the first day we met, even if I didn’t know it back then. Seeing you again is what motivated me to get through culinary school. Knowing you’ll be at my restaurant for lunch or dinner is what makes each long shift worth working. Getting to be around you at S is the whole reason I still go- hell, it’s the reason I still skate. Fuck, Kaoru, I just want to be with you. I don’t want to lose your friendship saying this, but I have to be honest. It’s not fair to either of us for me to hide it. So, I fucking love you, Sakurayashiki Kaoru, and no matter what idiocy I need to be a part of, I’m fine as long as it’s with you.”
Kojiro doesn’t realize he’d forgotten to breathe until he needs to take a deep breath after that confession. He doesn’t realize that he wasn’t even looking at Kaoru the whole time until his eyes meet with the confused amber ones. Not anger- confusion. It’s not the reaction Kojiro expected, and he’s too afraid to think it means what he thinks it means.
“Kaoru?”
He can nearly hear the slew of ‘idiot’ running from Kaoru’s mouth, can nearly hear the way Kaoru tells him how dumb he is for this confession. The thought of Kaoru saying that is so comforting to Kojiro, a reminder that he’s not losing his best friend over something as silly as one of them falling in love. But instead of speaking, Kaoru just stares, mouth open in shock, and Kojiro has to put the words in for him.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Another genuine laugh from Kojiro. “Come on, it’s weird if you’re just going to stare at me. Do you want me to leave?”
Kaoru manages to close his mouth and shake his head, though Kojiro thinks that was somehow a challenge for him.
“Okay, I won’t leave,” he promises, getting more comfortable in the bed. “We can sleep, if you want?” Another shake of the head. “Or… stay up, that’s fine.” Kojiro sighs. “It’s hard, not knowing what you want to say, you know. I’ve kind of missed you talking this whole time.”
This time, the laughter comes from Kaoru.
“What? You didn’t think I’d say that? I give you a whole ass love confession, and you think I’m stupid for missing your talking?” Kaoru wipes tears from his eyes as he nods, and Kojiro leans in so that their foreheads are touching. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll get to hear you soon, I’m sure. And then you can tell me how stupid I am for falling in love with my best friend.”
Kojiro offers Kaoru an honest smile, but what he doesn’t expect is Kaoru’s lips pressed against his a moment later. It makes his head swim- he’s being kissed by Kaoru. Whatever possessed Kaoru to do that has Kojiro’s stomach in knots. He wants to keep denying it, but he can’t anymore. “You.. you love me, too?”
“Of course I do, you idiot.”
He’s not sure if it’s the words themselves or the statement that shocks Kojiro more. He’s happy to know that Kaoru loves him, unbelievably happy to hear Kaoru call him an idiot again, but he’s shocked, too, that Kaoru speaks so easily so suddenly. “You just-”
Kojiro doesn’t finish his statement, because Kaoru looks just as surprised as he is. Kojiro can’t even accuse Kaoru of faking anything with how undeniably shocked he looks. “I... yeah, I did.”
It’s stupid, Kojiro knows it’s stupid, but he’s so happy to hear Kaoru talk again that he just pulls him in gently for a kiss, minding all of Kaoru’s injuries. “Hey, glad to hear you speaking again,” Kojiro says, once they part.
“I have a lot of calling you an idiot to make up for,” Kaoru teases him, giving him one more chaste kiss before they part for the night. “I’m not sure why, but it seems I’m able to communicate with you again.”
“Maybe you just needed true love’s kiss,” Kojiro pokes him playfully, knowing that Kaoru can’t hit him with two hands out of commission. But Kaoru can shoot him a look, to which Kojiro just laughs. “Come on, I’m joking. But you have to admit the timing was impeccable.”
“I admit nothing except that you’re an idiot,” Kaoru huffs, turning his face away from Kojiro.
“An idiot you’re in love with,” Kojiro reminds him.
“Yeah,” Kaoru admits. “An idiot I’m in love with.”
And while they know they have so much more to talk about in the morning, not to mention a doctor visit to make, they at least can take the night to just have each other.