(multi-chapter) just like the stars in the sky - chapter three
Title: Just Like the Stars in the Sky
Author: mustenentwined3
Pairing: Yamajima
Genre: Romance, angst.
Rating: PG as of now.
Disclaimer(s): I own nothing. Not even the unoriginal plot line :Dv
Summary: Everybody treats him differently, just because of that. He's almost lost hope that he'll find somebody who will actually understand. But then again, always expect the unexpected.
Prologue ll Chapter One ll Chapter Two ll
A/N: So evidently, I write angsty even when I'm not trying to ): you will get your fluff, I promise. Anyways. Last update for a week! I apologize for having to leave right after this chapter :/ will try to update as soon as I come back next week, I promise! Enjoy; comments are, as always, a lot of love ;) also, still insanely behind with replying to comments, sorry! Do know that I still treasure every one. ♥
Chapter Three.
I couldn’t see the stars last night. They refused to shine. Maybe they’re trying to tell me something?
He leaps up the steps, adjusting the collar of his uniform as he slips into the classroom. Just as he sets his books down, sliding into the seat of his desk, a girl arrives at the seat beside him, tucking her hair behind one ear as she gives him a soft smile.
“Yamada-kun. How are you feeling today?”
He gives her a quirk of his lips as a smile. “Fine, thanks,” he lies, and moves to twirl his pen around his finger absently as the teacher walks in the door.
He can already tell that it’s going to be a long, long day.
---
The pen spins around and around on his hand before he finally catches it with two fingertips, his gaze lowered onto the piece of paper on his desk as he bends down to write, scrambled words all across his page from Yamada’s entries. That, Yuto thinks to himself, and runs his finger along the line on his paper - what is that? Disorder? A disease, maybe?
I had to take a few tests at the doctor’s today.
He says maybe five more years and I’ll be safe.
Can I make it through to five more years, even?
With a sigh, Yuto crosses his arms over his chest, earning him a curious glance from the teacher, who halts in mid-point to gaze at him for a while. “Is there anything wrong, Nakajima-kun?”
There’s a shifting of bodies as the entire class turns to look back at him, and he glances up anxiously, uncomfortable beneath all the stares. “No, sorry. I was just a bit confused. Could you maybe explain that part again?” He motions towards what she has written on the board, and flips to the next page in his notebook - a blank, new page.
“Sure,” the frown on her face brightens into a smile as she turns back around, picking up a marker to redraw forgotten lines on the board. There’s a silent groan from the rest of the class, and Yuto bites his lip apologetically.
A paper slides onto his desk, and he starts, looking up to meet his friend’s gaze from a desk diagonally beside him. He unfolds the note, smoothing out the wrinkles to peer at the scribbled handwriting.
Have they found a cause for cancer yet?
Blinking, Yuto stares at the words, picking up his pen to write down his answer at first instinct.
No. Why?
The paper flies to land precisely on the edge of his friend’s desk, and he smiles a little to himself as he watches the other pull it over to hide beneath a math textbook when the teacher turns around, her voice still echoing in the bored silence.
Moments later, the paper lands on his desk once more.
I think it could be possible to get it from how boring this class is.
Yuto rolls his eyes, sitting up straighter in his seat in order to seem like he is paying attention.
Don't be an idiot. You over exaggerate so much.
Carefully, he folds the paper back into thirds, bringing it to rest in between his two middle fingers. As soon as the teacher turns her back, he flings it across - but this time, it teeters at the corner of his friend’s desk, fluttering to the ground before the other can manage to catch it.
The other boy leans down in a desperate attempt to pick up the paper, but only succeeds in moving his desk over too far and causing a loud commotion with the legs. The teacher up-front turns. “Is there a problem, Arioka-kun?”
“Um,” he smiles, “No, not-”
“What is this?” As she walks over, Yuto sees her gaze land upon the defeated paper on the ground, folded flaps rising up just the tiniest bit. He feels dread overcome him as she bends down in her dress, opening the note slowly and squinting her eyes at the handwriting.
She lowers it, her eyes traveling from Daiki to Yuto. “Why don’t the two of you come see me for a while after school? I think I’d love to hear more of your opinion about this class.” She sends Daiki a rigid look.
Yuto nods stiffly, watching out of the corner of his eye as his friend does the same.
It’s going to be a long, long day.
-------------------------------------------------
They end up having to clean desks, which is apparently a task much easier said than done. Yuto scrubs endlessly at the surface, pressing hard to erase the etched markings as Daiki slops over it with water and paper towels.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the other whines quietly, slapping a towel down onto the ground beside him and pausing to wipe his forehead with his sleeve. “How does this make us appreciate her class more?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up the cancer part,” Yuto replies, albeit a bit gloomily. “Rumors say her dad has it.”
“Damn. Now I feel bad for her for once in my life,” sighing, Daiki continues to rinse the soap Yuto has scrubbed onto the desks, shaking out hair that has fallen into his eyes. “That must suck, though. I’ve never known anyone with cancer.”
Humming his agreement, Yuto rolls up his sleeve a little more, scrubbing back and forth forcefully to wipe away an ancient love declaration - and then, his friend’s words finally sink in. His head snaps upright. That’s it.
“What?” Conscious of his gaze, the other boy looks up as well, blinking. He looks down at himself. “Is there something on my shirt?”
Dazedly, Yuto shakes his head, a smile blooming across his face. “That’s it,” he whispers. “That’s it. You’re brilliant. That’s exactly that.”
“What’s exactly what? What in the world are you talking about, Yuto?”
“It all makes sense,” Yuto traces the words on his palm with a finger. “Wishing, death. Stars. People being cautious around him. He must have some kind of cancer. It works, it totally works,” he can feel the notebook still tightly closed in his pocket, spirals etching into his skin (just like the words inside).
“…Who?”
He blinks, refocusing. “Nothing,” he replies quickly, and returns to scrubbing the desk. “I’m just talking to myself.”
There’s a hesitation of silence, and then he feels his friend shrug beside him. “Whatever you say. Let’s get this done with and go home.”
“Yeah. Hey, do you know when the café closes?”
“Café? Around six, doesn’t it?”
Yuto checks the clock above the classroom door - he has more than two hours before then.
He closes his eyes, crosses his fingers in the midst of soapsuds, and wills Yamada Ryosuke to be there.
---
“Please,” Yamada clasps his hands together adamantly, eyes pleading. “I really, really need to go. I promise I’ll be back as soon as it closes. I need to find my notebook.”
His mother looks down at him, kneeling on the ground, helpless look on his face. “I could just get you another notebook, Ryosuke.”
“You don’t understand,” persistently, he bows his head down low. “I really need to find that one. I want to have all of my entries and keep them in order. This is important to me,” he bends down as low as possible, necklace dangling until the charm almost scrapes the surface of the ground.
There’s a sigh from above. “Okay, fine. If it means so much to you, I can’t refuse. But you better be back as soon as it closes, because I don’t want you wandering alone. Who knows what could happen?”
Yeah, I might die, right - biting back the bitter retort that surfaces immediately, Yamada manages a smile. “Thanks,” he murmurs softly.
“Now go,” his mother shoos him with her hand, pushing him towards the door. “Find your precious notebook.” She offers him his shoes.
Letting out a laugh, he accepts them, pulling them on and stumbling into the hallway. “I won’t be long,” he calls over his shoulder as he begins to jog down the hall, pushing open the stairway door with his body weight.
Sometimes it’s nice being a human. After all, stars never care for each other.
But humans do.
Author: mustenentwined3
Pairing: Yamajima
Genre: Romance, angst.
Rating: PG as of now.
Disclaimer(s): I own nothing. Not even the unoriginal plot line :Dv
Summary: Everybody treats him differently, just because of that. He's almost lost hope that he'll find somebody who will actually understand. But then again, always expect the unexpected.
Prologue ll Chapter One ll Chapter Two ll
A/N: So evidently, I write angsty even when I'm not trying to ): you will get your fluff, I promise. Anyways. Last update for a week! I apologize for having to leave right after this chapter :/ will try to update as soon as I come back next week, I promise! Enjoy; comments are, as always, a lot of love ;) also, still insanely behind with replying to comments, sorry! Do know that I still treasure every one. ♥
Chapter Three.
I couldn’t see the stars last night. They refused to shine. Maybe they’re trying to tell me something?
He leaps up the steps, adjusting the collar of his uniform as he slips into the classroom. Just as he sets his books down, sliding into the seat of his desk, a girl arrives at the seat beside him, tucking her hair behind one ear as she gives him a soft smile.
“Yamada-kun. How are you feeling today?”
He gives her a quirk of his lips as a smile. “Fine, thanks,” he lies, and moves to twirl his pen around his finger absently as the teacher walks in the door.
He can already tell that it’s going to be a long, long day.
---
The pen spins around and around on his hand before he finally catches it with two fingertips, his gaze lowered onto the piece of paper on his desk as he bends down to write, scrambled words all across his page from Yamada’s entries. That, Yuto thinks to himself, and runs his finger along the line on his paper - what is that? Disorder? A disease, maybe?
I had to take a few tests at the doctor’s today.
He says maybe five more years and I’ll be safe.
Can I make it through to five more years, even?
With a sigh, Yuto crosses his arms over his chest, earning him a curious glance from the teacher, who halts in mid-point to gaze at him for a while. “Is there anything wrong, Nakajima-kun?”
There’s a shifting of bodies as the entire class turns to look back at him, and he glances up anxiously, uncomfortable beneath all the stares. “No, sorry. I was just a bit confused. Could you maybe explain that part again?” He motions towards what she has written on the board, and flips to the next page in his notebook - a blank, new page.
“Sure,” the frown on her face brightens into a smile as she turns back around, picking up a marker to redraw forgotten lines on the board. There’s a silent groan from the rest of the class, and Yuto bites his lip apologetically.
A paper slides onto his desk, and he starts, looking up to meet his friend’s gaze from a desk diagonally beside him. He unfolds the note, smoothing out the wrinkles to peer at the scribbled handwriting.
Have they found a cause for cancer yet?
Blinking, Yuto stares at the words, picking up his pen to write down his answer at first instinct.
No. Why?
The paper flies to land precisely on the edge of his friend’s desk, and he smiles a little to himself as he watches the other pull it over to hide beneath a math textbook when the teacher turns around, her voice still echoing in the bored silence.
Moments later, the paper lands on his desk once more.
I think it could be possible to get it from how boring this class is.
Yuto rolls his eyes, sitting up straighter in his seat in order to seem like he is paying attention.
Don't be an idiot. You over exaggerate so much.
Carefully, he folds the paper back into thirds, bringing it to rest in between his two middle fingers. As soon as the teacher turns her back, he flings it across - but this time, it teeters at the corner of his friend’s desk, fluttering to the ground before the other can manage to catch it.
The other boy leans down in a desperate attempt to pick up the paper, but only succeeds in moving his desk over too far and causing a loud commotion with the legs. The teacher up-front turns. “Is there a problem, Arioka-kun?”
“Um,” he smiles, “No, not-”
“What is this?” As she walks over, Yuto sees her gaze land upon the defeated paper on the ground, folded flaps rising up just the tiniest bit. He feels dread overcome him as she bends down in her dress, opening the note slowly and squinting her eyes at the handwriting.
She lowers it, her eyes traveling from Daiki to Yuto. “Why don’t the two of you come see me for a while after school? I think I’d love to hear more of your opinion about this class.” She sends Daiki a rigid look.
Yuto nods stiffly, watching out of the corner of his eye as his friend does the same.
It’s going to be a long, long day.
-------------------------------------------------
They end up having to clean desks, which is apparently a task much easier said than done. Yuto scrubs endlessly at the surface, pressing hard to erase the etched markings as Daiki slops over it with water and paper towels.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the other whines quietly, slapping a towel down onto the ground beside him and pausing to wipe his forehead with his sleeve. “How does this make us appreciate her class more?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up the cancer part,” Yuto replies, albeit a bit gloomily. “Rumors say her dad has it.”
“Damn. Now I feel bad for her for once in my life,” sighing, Daiki continues to rinse the soap Yuto has scrubbed onto the desks, shaking out hair that has fallen into his eyes. “That must suck, though. I’ve never known anyone with cancer.”
Humming his agreement, Yuto rolls up his sleeve a little more, scrubbing back and forth forcefully to wipe away an ancient love declaration - and then, his friend’s words finally sink in. His head snaps upright. That’s it.
“What?” Conscious of his gaze, the other boy looks up as well, blinking. He looks down at himself. “Is there something on my shirt?”
Dazedly, Yuto shakes his head, a smile blooming across his face. “That’s it,” he whispers. “That’s it. You’re brilliant. That’s exactly that.”
“What’s exactly what? What in the world are you talking about, Yuto?”
“It all makes sense,” Yuto traces the words on his palm with a finger. “Wishing, death. Stars. People being cautious around him. He must have some kind of cancer. It works, it totally works,” he can feel the notebook still tightly closed in his pocket, spirals etching into his skin (just like the words inside).
“…Who?”
He blinks, refocusing. “Nothing,” he replies quickly, and returns to scrubbing the desk. “I’m just talking to myself.”
There’s a hesitation of silence, and then he feels his friend shrug beside him. “Whatever you say. Let’s get this done with and go home.”
“Yeah. Hey, do you know when the café closes?”
“Café? Around six, doesn’t it?”
Yuto checks the clock above the classroom door - he has more than two hours before then.
He closes his eyes, crosses his fingers in the midst of soapsuds, and wills Yamada Ryosuke to be there.
---
“Please,” Yamada clasps his hands together adamantly, eyes pleading. “I really, really need to go. I promise I’ll be back as soon as it closes. I need to find my notebook.”
His mother looks down at him, kneeling on the ground, helpless look on his face. “I could just get you another notebook, Ryosuke.”
“You don’t understand,” persistently, he bows his head down low. “I really need to find that one. I want to have all of my entries and keep them in order. This is important to me,” he bends down as low as possible, necklace dangling until the charm almost scrapes the surface of the ground.
There’s a sigh from above. “Okay, fine. If it means so much to you, I can’t refuse. But you better be back as soon as it closes, because I don’t want you wandering alone. Who knows what could happen?”
Yeah, I might die, right - biting back the bitter retort that surfaces immediately, Yamada manages a smile. “Thanks,” he murmurs softly.
“Now go,” his mother shoos him with her hand, pushing him towards the door. “Find your precious notebook.” She offers him his shoes.
Letting out a laugh, he accepts them, pulling them on and stumbling into the hallway. “I won’t be long,” he calls over his shoulder as he begins to jog down the hall, pushing open the stairway door with his body weight.
Sometimes it’s nice being a human. After all, stars never care for each other.
But humans do.