Fanfic: Sweet Heart of the Innocent
Title: Sweet Heart of the Innocent
Chapter 1: This is
Fandom: Junjou Romantica
Pairing: Nowaki/Shinobu friendship
He hates this, hates how he's all alone and just sitting there in the playground, with the other kids playing around and laughing while he's just sitting on the swing. He has no one to laugh with, but not like it bothers him that much. Not really. He just hates the feeling that settles in his stomach.
Nowaki watches his feet as he kicks them over the sand. He presses his feet harder onto the sand, watching as they sink slightly deeper and some sand settles over his shoes a bit. The laughter and loud voices of the other children makes him grip the swing chains tighter. He could feel the rust on his fingers and he's sure there're going to be streaks of red on his hands.
It's not that he finds them annoying. He thinks they might be at least generally pleasant. He remembers his first time in the park, how he was so quiet and how he was just pushed around. He was hesitant then, so he doesn't blame them. He had asked if maybe they wanted to play with him, but as soon as he had turned his back, they had gone scurrying away. Those who remained whispered behind his back and would make fun of him and would pull pranks on him.
And now, he's used to sitting alone. A twelve year old like him would find this sad, but really, he's fine. He's used to being secluded from the rest of the children. He doesn't want to tell the person watching over him that he doesn't want to go to the park anymore. He looks up and sees his caretaker talking quite animatedly with the person sitting next to them, and Nowaki doesn't want to take that happiness away.
He can hear whispers, and it aggravates him, if only just a bit.
"He's sitting there all alone. Should we play with him?"
"No way, he's so weird."
"Maybe his parents left him there all alone."
He wishes for those voices to stop, to go away.
He doesn't like the feeling of anger, of being mad at people he doesn't even know. He holds it back. As it goes through his throat, he has to swallow two times before he feels it settle in his stomach. But he knows that it's too much, that it's going to start overflowing any minute. He could feel the pressure going back up, could feel his chest tighten with the effort of keeping it inside. He keeps his mouth stubbornly shut. He can feel it coming up the back of his throat, and he can hear his own blood pounding in his ears.
Nowaki remains stubborn though, even as he feels the pressure settle behind his eyes. He tries to blink them away, willing them to be gone. He can feel it in the corner of his eyes. He wants to hit something, but not really, he wants to shout, to flail around. Something. He wants someone to tell him it's going to be all right, that he shouldn't worry. He brings one hand up over his eyes, rubbing away the pressure and maybe he could actually admit to himself that they're his tears.
He keeps rubbing at his face, but suddenly stops when he sees a pair of feet in front of his. He feels a hand on his, pulling his hand away from his face. He looks up and sees a young, very young child in front of him. He has sandy blond hair and the biggest gray eyes Nowaki has ever seen. He's looking at Nowaki with a determined look on his little face and Nowaki thinks this may be the cutest thing he has ever seen.
The young child reaches up and rubs at Nowaki's cheek. "... red paint..." He hears the boy whisper. "What's wrong?" he then asks. Nowaki's maybe a little bit surprised. For such a small child, he has so much confidence in his voice.
The boy suddenly looks away as he notices that Nowaki has been scrutinising him. But the boy looks up once again, with more determination in his eyes and a little bit of irritation at being ignored. Nowaki has to vaguely wonder how much determination this boy could muster. "You were rubbing your eyes, and now you have this red paint all over your face, what's the matter?"
"I'm... okay." Nowaki says a bit hesitantly, rubbing at his face a little. Then a thought strikes him, and he goes a bit rigid. Maybe the other children just dared him to go talk to him. "Shouldn't-shouldn't you be playing with those other children instead?" He asks maybe a bit coldly.
The other boy looks away and the biggest of pouts settles over his face. He can see the other boy's eyes going a bit red. "They were being mean and stupid." He looks at Nowaki again, and he puffs his cheeks out a little with aggravation. "And I always see you here alone. You're the only one I want to play with." He says, and he's clutching on to the fabric of his shorts.
And oh such a thing to for him to say. Nowaki feels his insides settle, feels this little bit of happiness surge through him, because this little boy wants to play with him. For such a small act, he feels so happy. Nowaki smiles and the pressure behind his eyes, in his stomach and chest disappear.
"Want to play on the swings first?" Nowaki asks and stands up from his seat.
The young boy nods his head vigorously with excitement shining in his eyes. He takes Nowaki's seat and starts swinging his legs a bit. Back and forth, back and forth.
Nowaki starts pushing the swing a bit but stops. The young boy looks up at him with a bit of confusion in his eyes. "What's your name by the way?" Nowaki asks. "I'm Kusama Nowaki."
"My name's Takatsuki Shinobu," he says and faces forward once again as Nowaki starts pushing once more.
"Nice to meet you." Nowaki says with the softest of smiles on his face.
To be continued...