Wrist-Cut Show Chapter One
Lost?:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Interlude
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight *new*
:-:-:
Wrist-Cut Show
Chapter One
:-:-:
“You are not quitting school and that’s final,” the usually saccharine voice of Kyo’s latest foster mother commanded harshly.
The unruly teenager glowered contemptuously at the short woman that stood in front of him, kitchen knife in one hand as she fixed him with a hard stare and continued chopping up vegetables for their dinner. Her usually soft brownish-black eyes were clouded over in what Kyo could recognize as genuine concern for his well-being.
“I want you to pursue your dreams, but I also want you to get a sound education first, you know, as a safeguard,” she continued, her voice sounding strained, exasperation exemplified in her every jerky movement of the cooking knife.
“Or in other words you don’t think I can do it,” he muttered, slightly irritated by her obstinate nature (The both of them were a lot alike in ways he’d rather not ponder about). It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her refusal, but damn if he was going to just listen to what this woman told him to do. He had hardly known her for two months, a complete stranger upon the arrival, and he hardly had any respect for what she wanted. Besides, he wasn’t going to be here long either.
Yuka, his foster mother, was actually quite an agreeable lady. She was one of the nicest ones he’d had since his mother…Well, he didn’t like talking about what happened to her. Ever since the incident he’d seen his fair share of new houses, strangers that take him in, expecting things out of him that he wasn’t willing to give. These people could throw their money around, trying to get him help, trying to turn him into a ‘proper young man’, but it never made a difference. He wasn’t one to change his nature to please another. He liked being grumpy, lazy, and gluttonous. He didn’t care if it annoyed them, if they gave him away to different people. A stranger was a stranger to him, it didn’t matter if they changed faces or names, he’d never recognize them as his family. That’s what turned off most of his ex-foster parents. It’s why he was losing his current ‘home’.
Yuka loved him dearly. She took every chance that she could in the past months to make it clear to the boy. Kyo continually scoffed at her affection, pushing her away, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was odd, hardly knowing her and having her constantly doing things for him, paying attention to him, taking interests in his activities. She did make it hard for him to have a proper smoke, regarding the addiction as a dirty habit that she was determined to cleanse, but there was one thing that almost tugged Kyo’s reluctant heart into liking her. She actually encouraged the one thing that held him together in this crazy world, his songs. He fully intended on quitting his sham of a schooling and finding himself a band, getting away from all this shit.
Maybe Kyo would have had a chance to grow a fondness for the stubborn lady who seemed to wriggle her way into his life, but it would all be ending soon. Yuka’s husband had developed a disliking for him ever since he first step foot in their house. The man loathed everything about Kyo, his screeching (it was never called singing), his clothes, his attitude, even his lack of friends (he didn’t consider it normal). Kyo didn’t much care for the man either, especially when the man found every excuse he could to blame something bad on the teenager. Kyo never denied the accusations because, well, he cared less what others said about him.
“It hardly matters anyway,” he stated matter-of-factly, returning from his unpleasant reverie. He quickly reached over the counter to snag one of the carrots she’d be cutting, sticking it in his mouth. “I’m just going to be dumped off on someone else who probably won’t give a shit what I do. That’s how most of ‘em are.”
Yuka scowled maternally at him, her lips pursing like they usually did when she felt exceptionally ornery.
“Watch your language, and don’t act like I want to give you up.” Her tone had grown even harsher, but Kyo could sense the strain of melancholy in it. The hand holding the knife began to tremble, slipping and pushing a cucumber to the floor.
“Ijirou, just…well…Forgive him, he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just…a strict man.”
Kyo rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but knew better than to comment. The woman had no clue she had married a complete asshole, and she was in complete denial. Whatever, it wasn’t his duty to disillusion her. But, he gazed up at her from eyelashes heavy and black from mascara, she looked so…
Kyo shifted uncomfortably, feeling a quiet tension rise in the air. It seemed to swallow the dilapidated kitchen with the corroded oven, and discolored and worn countertops. It soaked deep into the cracking titles scrubbed by numerous hands and into the flickering ceiling lights that shined down on their heads from above.
Abruptly, she sighed, lagging against the countertop breaking the tension. “I received a letter today…from you new parent.” Kyo couldn’t help but notice her choking on that last word. Maybe he would miss this woman. He doubted anyone else would ever greet him with such acceptance as she did.
“You should read it after dinner. And don’t forget to pack your things tonight because you’ll need to leave early tomorrow.”
The small woman began to tremble, tearing coming slowly to her soft eyes. Kyo reached over awkwardly grabbing the letter from her outstretched hand, but unable to meet her eyes. He couldn’t stand it at all when women cried.
:-:-:
Kyo yanked out another cigarette from his diminishing reserve (thanks to Yuka), balancing the white stick on his lips while he dug into one pocket of his baggy jeans for a light. Damn that woman for putting him in such a foul mood. Pulling out a cheap lighter and lighting up his beloved addiction, he watched as the smoke curled slowly from his lips like some distorted, grotesque figure grinning back at him. The cool night’s breeze quickly diffused the image from existence and played with his frayed jacket as he lounged indolently on the roof which had become his constant haunt during his stay here.
The letter sat unread in his back pocket, its existence temporarily forgotten. Most of the time he never received a letter beforehand, he was just shipped to a location and told to live there for a while. He hardly cared what his new ‘parents’ wanted to say to him. A new home, new people, strangers that would feed and clothe him, pretending that they were actually making a difference in his life.
His brown eyes drifted up to linger on the dark cloudy sky, stars just barely visible behind the light pollution and smog of the city. He could care less where people stuck him, disposing of him like rotting garbage that no one wanted around. He shouldn’t even be alive, he was supposed to die. It was something that he’d promised his mother, his real mother, but it hadn’t quite turned out like she had planned, now did it? Every time he tried to fulfill that promise, something happened to stop. He couldn’t quite figure out why life wanted him alive so bad. Probably because he was just too fun to torture.
:-:-:
Shinya stirred halfheartedly from his light slumber, disturbed by the wind dancing in his open window to play unconscientiously with his long locks of auburn hair. He sat up sluggishly, his hair spilling down his thin frame, brushing against his small ass. Today was Saturday. Toshiya had promised to visit him.
He swung his feet delicately off his crumpled bed, wrinkling his small nose when he smelt the stench of dried sweat on his body. He must have had another one of those nightmares during his sleep. His sleepy eyes glanced around the room, checking that all of his things were in their normal order. This was usually what he did in the morning, not that he possessed many belongings to begin with.
The small dresser sat against the way, containers of makeup all located in an organized fashion, each bottle separated by color and use. Shinya stood, his feet brushing against the red carpet of his bedroom as he walked over to his dresser, opening the drawers and assuring that his clothes were still in the same order as he had left them.
He was just counting the exact number of socks in his sock drawer when he heard a knock on the door, startling him.
“Yes?” he asked, his small voice sounding incredibly timid in the silence of the morning.
“Shinya, hurry up. I need to talk to you over breakfast,” a loud voice called from the other side of his door.
“I still need to take a shower,” his voice seemed a bit shaky, as he finished his counting and slowly closed the drawer.
He heard the person on the other side of the door give a resigned sigh. “Just, wash your hair once, okay? It will smell fine.”
“Okay.” Shinya murmured hesitantly.
Shinya entered his private bathroom, bare feet making light noises on the clean tiled floors. The room was lavishly supplied with an assortment of scents and products that aligned in neat rows on the expensive porcelain bathtub/shower. It wasn’t that Shinya himself was rich, but his foster father was a successful lawyer who, to keep up his pristine image, took care of a certain number of unwanted children. It wasn’t like Shinya disliked the man, he made sure they had all they needed and then some, but Shinya didn’t get along very well with strangers.
Small hands reached out to turn the hot water in the shower on, lips grimacing when he noticed the chipped paint of his fingernails. He’d have to fix that too and Tarou would probably be annoyed at him again, especially if he’d ask Shinya to hurry up already.
Shinya sighed, easing out of the flimsy slip that he used as his nightwear and setting it folded on the countertop by the sink. He cautiously stepped under the water’s spray, enjoying the heat that streamed down his back in waves. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation for a few precious seconds before he got to work.
He carefully selected a scent from the shelf, choosing today to go with jasmine shampoo and conditioner. He washed his hair thoroughly with the shampoo, scrubbing his long fingers to make sure all the oil and sweat was rinsed from his head. He proceeded to do the same with the conditioner, with a frown on his face. He didn’t feel clean at all.
A loud knock on his bathroom door, startled the boy from his thoughts, Tarou’s rough voice calling through the door once again.
“Shinya. Hurry up, you’ve been in there for thirty minutes already. I need to leave for work soon.”
“I’m coming.” Shinya answered awkwardly, moving on to clean the rest of his body. This dirt, it just wouldn’t come off of him. He couldn’t see it, but he felt it covering all over his skin.
Twenty minutes later and with his skin rubbed red, Shinya quickly dressed into his previously laid out outfit. He was dressing casual today, well casual for himself. He had decided on a black long-sleeved shirt that was rather large on him, making him look particularly skinny underneath it. He had chosen a short leathery miniskirt complete with boots that clung tight to his legs all the way up to his thighs. He took out a hair dryer and curling iron, doing his hair up in way so that the curls in his hair spilled down from a ponytail that he firmly secured with a hair band.
After applying his makeup and re-doing his fingernails, Shinya was finally able to head downstairs. He was slightly afraid, having taken longer than he had intended. It had already been two hours since Tarou had first called from him to come downstairs. Either Tarou had left or Shinya was about to face a very angry foster parent.
Shinya let out a sigh of relief when he merely saw a note lying on the table. He reached down to cautiously pick it up:
Shinya,
I wanted to tell you all this in person, but I have an important meeting to get to. Another boy is arriving today. He’s going to stay here for a while, his name is Kyo. Please meet him at the bus stop around the corner. He should be arriving around 14:00. Please show him around and make him comfortable.
Tarou
:-:-:
The bus was overflowing with other passengers, all of them making noise, all talking and going about their respective lives, as Kyo boarded and settled in his seat. Kyo hated buses. Then again he hated people in general. They were really just an annoyance. When he really thought about it even though there were billions of people in the world, it just didn’t matter because none of them noticed each other’s existence. All of their glances passed through each other, through him. There was no need to speak to a stranger, not when people lived in a world where they passed hundreds of people each day, not looking at faces, not speaking a word, too focused on the small square that made up their own life. It was simply paradoxical how one person could be so utterly alone in a world with a population so vast as this one, and he was tired of this impersonal, indifferent, and solitary world.
Kyo curled up in his seat, pulling his suitcase close to him. He wasn’t about to let the few possessions that he actually had get stolen and he was feeling a bit drowsy. His mind drifted to other things. He wondered slightly what his new home would be like, wondered how much they’d dislike him there.
Suddenly remembering, he pulled the letter from the back pocket of his old jeans that he’d slipped on again this morning. He might as well read whatever the asshole had to say. It’s not like he had anything else to do on this trip.
Tooru Nishimura,
My name is Tarou Kanno and I will be your new father. I’m sending you this letter because unfortunately I will not be able to be present when you arrive at your new home. I will have my other son, Shinya, waiting to met you. I hope that the two of you will be able to get along.
Tarou Kanno
“Brief and to the point,” Kyo muttered to himself, balling up the piece of paper and tossing down on the floor of the bus. Scowling once again, he curled up tighter against himself, tucking his chin against his chest. He might as well take a short nap. It was going to be a long bus trip.
Bright sunlight and the touch of a hand on Kyo’s shoulder woke him from his slumber hours later.
“What the fuck?” Kyo asked, blinking his eyes and feeling extremely uncomfortable. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see the bus driver was giving him an odious look.
“Mister, this is our last stop going in this direction. Please exit the bus on your left,” the curt voice commanded.
Kyo looked up at the man in irritation. “Last stop?” He searched his memory, and cursed. He was supposed to give off at the third to last, wasn’t he?
Nonetheless, the bus driver was giving him a livid look, so he grabbed his bag and sat up stretching his sore muscles. He proceeded off the bus, glad at least to be away from the annoying metal contraption. Not that he knew where the hell he was.
His new house was supposed to be somewhere in downtown Kyoto, but as Kyo gazed at the small houses that lined this rural area, he didn’t think he was quite in the city anymore. Luckily, it seemed that it the city wasn’t too far away, judging from the map that was posted on a sign made especially for travelers.
Kyo sighed. Well, as much as he’d like to just wander off somewhere and never show up at his new house, that really wasn’t an option. He had no money on him, he was hungry, and most of all he was running low on cigarettes. It looked like he was going to have to walk his way back into the city, or hitch a ride because if he had money he definitely wouldn’t be spending it on a bus ticket.
:-:-:
“I’m leaving now!” Toshiya called through the house, quickly pulling on his shoes.
“Where are you going?! HARA TOSHIMASA, GET BACK HERE!” his mother called after her errant son furiously. “You are GROUNDED, you hear?!”
Toshiya giggled, ignoring her angry calls as he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. Every morning it was the same routine. She would yell at him and he would escape off to see Shinya or one of his other love interests.
He quickly pulled out of the driveway, pushing his dark blue locks of hair out of his face triumphantly. Another successful getaway. He hoped Shinya wouldn’t be too angry at him for getting in later than he said he would. Shinya always had a way of fussing so, and in some ways it irked Toshiya, who was of a free nature. The brunette was lovely in his looks and quite interesting to talk to, but he was what Toshiya considered ‘high maintenance’. Shinya was much harder to deal with than the rest of his boyfriends, not that Toshiya ever mentioned them to Shinya. He was afraid to break the poor boy’s little heart.
“Speaking of others,” Toshiya murmured to himself as his eye caught on a boy with spiky orange hair standing on the side of the road. “He seems pretty hot.”
He slowed his car down as he approached getting a full view of the boy in question. ‘Well,’ Toshiya thought, looking the short boy up and down, ‘He has such an angry scowl, but he’s not that bad. Damn, Shinya would be pissed. Maybe I’ll just give him a ride and get his number for later.’
“Hey, you need a ride?” Toshiya asked, a smile on his lips as he leaned out the car window.
The boy’s scowl seemed to deepen at this. “Would I be standing out here if I didn’t?” The boy remarked icily, pulling open the passenger side door and hopping in. “You’re heading downtown Kyoto right?”
Toshiya couldn’t help but grin somewhat at the boy’s audacity and nod his head affirmatively.
“First though,” Toshiya inquired, leaning over to gaze into cantankerous brown eyes, “What’s your name?”
Another glower and then the words softly, “Kyo.”
:-:-:
I don’t believe in fate
Sometimes, it just happens
‘cause life gets bored
:-:-:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Interlude
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight *new*
:-:-:
Wrist-Cut Show
Chapter One
:-:-:
“You are not quitting school and that’s final,” the usually saccharine voice of Kyo’s latest foster mother commanded harshly.
The unruly teenager glowered contemptuously at the short woman that stood in front of him, kitchen knife in one hand as she fixed him with a hard stare and continued chopping up vegetables for their dinner. Her usually soft brownish-black eyes were clouded over in what Kyo could recognize as genuine concern for his well-being.
“I want you to pursue your dreams, but I also want you to get a sound education first, you know, as a safeguard,” she continued, her voice sounding strained, exasperation exemplified in her every jerky movement of the cooking knife.
“Or in other words you don’t think I can do it,” he muttered, slightly irritated by her obstinate nature (The both of them were a lot alike in ways he’d rather not ponder about). It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her refusal, but damn if he was going to just listen to what this woman told him to do. He had hardly known her for two months, a complete stranger upon the arrival, and he hardly had any respect for what she wanted. Besides, he wasn’t going to be here long either.
Yuka, his foster mother, was actually quite an agreeable lady. She was one of the nicest ones he’d had since his mother…Well, he didn’t like talking about what happened to her. Ever since the incident he’d seen his fair share of new houses, strangers that take him in, expecting things out of him that he wasn’t willing to give. These people could throw their money around, trying to get him help, trying to turn him into a ‘proper young man’, but it never made a difference. He wasn’t one to change his nature to please another. He liked being grumpy, lazy, and gluttonous. He didn’t care if it annoyed them, if they gave him away to different people. A stranger was a stranger to him, it didn’t matter if they changed faces or names, he’d never recognize them as his family. That’s what turned off most of his ex-foster parents. It’s why he was losing his current ‘home’.
Yuka loved him dearly. She took every chance that she could in the past months to make it clear to the boy. Kyo continually scoffed at her affection, pushing her away, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was odd, hardly knowing her and having her constantly doing things for him, paying attention to him, taking interests in his activities. She did make it hard for him to have a proper smoke, regarding the addiction as a dirty habit that she was determined to cleanse, but there was one thing that almost tugged Kyo’s reluctant heart into liking her. She actually encouraged the one thing that held him together in this crazy world, his songs. He fully intended on quitting his sham of a schooling and finding himself a band, getting away from all this shit.
Maybe Kyo would have had a chance to grow a fondness for the stubborn lady who seemed to wriggle her way into his life, but it would all be ending soon. Yuka’s husband had developed a disliking for him ever since he first step foot in their house. The man loathed everything about Kyo, his screeching (it was never called singing), his clothes, his attitude, even his lack of friends (he didn’t consider it normal). Kyo didn’t much care for the man either, especially when the man found every excuse he could to blame something bad on the teenager. Kyo never denied the accusations because, well, he cared less what others said about him.
“It hardly matters anyway,” he stated matter-of-factly, returning from his unpleasant reverie. He quickly reached over the counter to snag one of the carrots she’d be cutting, sticking it in his mouth. “I’m just going to be dumped off on someone else who probably won’t give a shit what I do. That’s how most of ‘em are.”
Yuka scowled maternally at him, her lips pursing like they usually did when she felt exceptionally ornery.
“Watch your language, and don’t act like I want to give you up.” Her tone had grown even harsher, but Kyo could sense the strain of melancholy in it. The hand holding the knife began to tremble, slipping and pushing a cucumber to the floor.
“Ijirou, just…well…Forgive him, he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just…a strict man.”
Kyo rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but knew better than to comment. The woman had no clue she had married a complete asshole, and she was in complete denial. Whatever, it wasn’t his duty to disillusion her. But, he gazed up at her from eyelashes heavy and black from mascara, she looked so…
Kyo shifted uncomfortably, feeling a quiet tension rise in the air. It seemed to swallow the dilapidated kitchen with the corroded oven, and discolored and worn countertops. It soaked deep into the cracking titles scrubbed by numerous hands and into the flickering ceiling lights that shined down on their heads from above.
Abruptly, she sighed, lagging against the countertop breaking the tension. “I received a letter today…from you new parent.” Kyo couldn’t help but notice her choking on that last word. Maybe he would miss this woman. He doubted anyone else would ever greet him with such acceptance as she did.
“You should read it after dinner. And don’t forget to pack your things tonight because you’ll need to leave early tomorrow.”
The small woman began to tremble, tearing coming slowly to her soft eyes. Kyo reached over awkwardly grabbing the letter from her outstretched hand, but unable to meet her eyes. He couldn’t stand it at all when women cried.
:-:-:
Kyo yanked out another cigarette from his diminishing reserve (thanks to Yuka), balancing the white stick on his lips while he dug into one pocket of his baggy jeans for a light. Damn that woman for putting him in such a foul mood. Pulling out a cheap lighter and lighting up his beloved addiction, he watched as the smoke curled slowly from his lips like some distorted, grotesque figure grinning back at him. The cool night’s breeze quickly diffused the image from existence and played with his frayed jacket as he lounged indolently on the roof which had become his constant haunt during his stay here.
The letter sat unread in his back pocket, its existence temporarily forgotten. Most of the time he never received a letter beforehand, he was just shipped to a location and told to live there for a while. He hardly cared what his new ‘parents’ wanted to say to him. A new home, new people, strangers that would feed and clothe him, pretending that they were actually making a difference in his life.
His brown eyes drifted up to linger on the dark cloudy sky, stars just barely visible behind the light pollution and smog of the city. He could care less where people stuck him, disposing of him like rotting garbage that no one wanted around. He shouldn’t even be alive, he was supposed to die. It was something that he’d promised his mother, his real mother, but it hadn’t quite turned out like she had planned, now did it? Every time he tried to fulfill that promise, something happened to stop. He couldn’t quite figure out why life wanted him alive so bad. Probably because he was just too fun to torture.
:-:-:
Shinya stirred halfheartedly from his light slumber, disturbed by the wind dancing in his open window to play unconscientiously with his long locks of auburn hair. He sat up sluggishly, his hair spilling down his thin frame, brushing against his small ass. Today was Saturday. Toshiya had promised to visit him.
He swung his feet delicately off his crumpled bed, wrinkling his small nose when he smelt the stench of dried sweat on his body. He must have had another one of those nightmares during his sleep. His sleepy eyes glanced around the room, checking that all of his things were in their normal order. This was usually what he did in the morning, not that he possessed many belongings to begin with.
The small dresser sat against the way, containers of makeup all located in an organized fashion, each bottle separated by color and use. Shinya stood, his feet brushing against the red carpet of his bedroom as he walked over to his dresser, opening the drawers and assuring that his clothes were still in the same order as he had left them.
He was just counting the exact number of socks in his sock drawer when he heard a knock on the door, startling him.
“Yes?” he asked, his small voice sounding incredibly timid in the silence of the morning.
“Shinya, hurry up. I need to talk to you over breakfast,” a loud voice called from the other side of his door.
“I still need to take a shower,” his voice seemed a bit shaky, as he finished his counting and slowly closed the drawer.
He heard the person on the other side of the door give a resigned sigh. “Just, wash your hair once, okay? It will smell fine.”
“Okay.” Shinya murmured hesitantly.
Shinya entered his private bathroom, bare feet making light noises on the clean tiled floors. The room was lavishly supplied with an assortment of scents and products that aligned in neat rows on the expensive porcelain bathtub/shower. It wasn’t that Shinya himself was rich, but his foster father was a successful lawyer who, to keep up his pristine image, took care of a certain number of unwanted children. It wasn’t like Shinya disliked the man, he made sure they had all they needed and then some, but Shinya didn’t get along very well with strangers.
Small hands reached out to turn the hot water in the shower on, lips grimacing when he noticed the chipped paint of his fingernails. He’d have to fix that too and Tarou would probably be annoyed at him again, especially if he’d ask Shinya to hurry up already.
Shinya sighed, easing out of the flimsy slip that he used as his nightwear and setting it folded on the countertop by the sink. He cautiously stepped under the water’s spray, enjoying the heat that streamed down his back in waves. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation for a few precious seconds before he got to work.
He carefully selected a scent from the shelf, choosing today to go with jasmine shampoo and conditioner. He washed his hair thoroughly with the shampoo, scrubbing his long fingers to make sure all the oil and sweat was rinsed from his head. He proceeded to do the same with the conditioner, with a frown on his face. He didn’t feel clean at all.
A loud knock on his bathroom door, startled the boy from his thoughts, Tarou’s rough voice calling through the door once again.
“Shinya. Hurry up, you’ve been in there for thirty minutes already. I need to leave for work soon.”
“I’m coming.” Shinya answered awkwardly, moving on to clean the rest of his body. This dirt, it just wouldn’t come off of him. He couldn’t see it, but he felt it covering all over his skin.
Twenty minutes later and with his skin rubbed red, Shinya quickly dressed into his previously laid out outfit. He was dressing casual today, well casual for himself. He had decided on a black long-sleeved shirt that was rather large on him, making him look particularly skinny underneath it. He had chosen a short leathery miniskirt complete with boots that clung tight to his legs all the way up to his thighs. He took out a hair dryer and curling iron, doing his hair up in way so that the curls in his hair spilled down from a ponytail that he firmly secured with a hair band.
After applying his makeup and re-doing his fingernails, Shinya was finally able to head downstairs. He was slightly afraid, having taken longer than he had intended. It had already been two hours since Tarou had first called from him to come downstairs. Either Tarou had left or Shinya was about to face a very angry foster parent.
Shinya let out a sigh of relief when he merely saw a note lying on the table. He reached down to cautiously pick it up:
Shinya,
I wanted to tell you all this in person, but I have an important meeting to get to. Another boy is arriving today. He’s going to stay here for a while, his name is Kyo. Please meet him at the bus stop around the corner. He should be arriving around 14:00. Please show him around and make him comfortable.
Tarou
:-:-:
The bus was overflowing with other passengers, all of them making noise, all talking and going about their respective lives, as Kyo boarded and settled in his seat. Kyo hated buses. Then again he hated people in general. They were really just an annoyance. When he really thought about it even though there were billions of people in the world, it just didn’t matter because none of them noticed each other’s existence. All of their glances passed through each other, through him. There was no need to speak to a stranger, not when people lived in a world where they passed hundreds of people each day, not looking at faces, not speaking a word, too focused on the small square that made up their own life. It was simply paradoxical how one person could be so utterly alone in a world with a population so vast as this one, and he was tired of this impersonal, indifferent, and solitary world.
Kyo curled up in his seat, pulling his suitcase close to him. He wasn’t about to let the few possessions that he actually had get stolen and he was feeling a bit drowsy. His mind drifted to other things. He wondered slightly what his new home would be like, wondered how much they’d dislike him there.
Suddenly remembering, he pulled the letter from the back pocket of his old jeans that he’d slipped on again this morning. He might as well read whatever the asshole had to say. It’s not like he had anything else to do on this trip.
Tooru Nishimura,
My name is Tarou Kanno and I will be your new father. I’m sending you this letter because unfortunately I will not be able to be present when you arrive at your new home. I will have my other son, Shinya, waiting to met you. I hope that the two of you will be able to get along.
Tarou Kanno
“Brief and to the point,” Kyo muttered to himself, balling up the piece of paper and tossing down on the floor of the bus. Scowling once again, he curled up tighter against himself, tucking his chin against his chest. He might as well take a short nap. It was going to be a long bus trip.
Bright sunlight and the touch of a hand on Kyo’s shoulder woke him from his slumber hours later.
“What the fuck?” Kyo asked, blinking his eyes and feeling extremely uncomfortable. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see the bus driver was giving him an odious look.
“Mister, this is our last stop going in this direction. Please exit the bus on your left,” the curt voice commanded.
Kyo looked up at the man in irritation. “Last stop?” He searched his memory, and cursed. He was supposed to give off at the third to last, wasn’t he?
Nonetheless, the bus driver was giving him a livid look, so he grabbed his bag and sat up stretching his sore muscles. He proceeded off the bus, glad at least to be away from the annoying metal contraption. Not that he knew where the hell he was.
His new house was supposed to be somewhere in downtown Kyoto, but as Kyo gazed at the small houses that lined this rural area, he didn’t think he was quite in the city anymore. Luckily, it seemed that it the city wasn’t too far away, judging from the map that was posted on a sign made especially for travelers.
Kyo sighed. Well, as much as he’d like to just wander off somewhere and never show up at his new house, that really wasn’t an option. He had no money on him, he was hungry, and most of all he was running low on cigarettes. It looked like he was going to have to walk his way back into the city, or hitch a ride because if he had money he definitely wouldn’t be spending it on a bus ticket.
:-:-:
“I’m leaving now!” Toshiya called through the house, quickly pulling on his shoes.
“Where are you going?! HARA TOSHIMASA, GET BACK HERE!” his mother called after her errant son furiously. “You are GROUNDED, you hear?!”
Toshiya giggled, ignoring her angry calls as he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. Every morning it was the same routine. She would yell at him and he would escape off to see Shinya or one of his other love interests.
He quickly pulled out of the driveway, pushing his dark blue locks of hair out of his face triumphantly. Another successful getaway. He hoped Shinya wouldn’t be too angry at him for getting in later than he said he would. Shinya always had a way of fussing so, and in some ways it irked Toshiya, who was of a free nature. The brunette was lovely in his looks and quite interesting to talk to, but he was what Toshiya considered ‘high maintenance’. Shinya was much harder to deal with than the rest of his boyfriends, not that Toshiya ever mentioned them to Shinya. He was afraid to break the poor boy’s little heart.
“Speaking of others,” Toshiya murmured to himself as his eye caught on a boy with spiky orange hair standing on the side of the road. “He seems pretty hot.”
He slowed his car down as he approached getting a full view of the boy in question. ‘Well,’ Toshiya thought, looking the short boy up and down, ‘He has such an angry scowl, but he’s not that bad. Damn, Shinya would be pissed. Maybe I’ll just give him a ride and get his number for later.’
“Hey, you need a ride?” Toshiya asked, a smile on his lips as he leaned out the car window.
The boy’s scowl seemed to deepen at this. “Would I be standing out here if I didn’t?” The boy remarked icily, pulling open the passenger side door and hopping in. “You’re heading downtown Kyoto right?”
Toshiya couldn’t help but grin somewhat at the boy’s audacity and nod his head affirmatively.
“First though,” Toshiya inquired, leaning over to gaze into cantankerous brown eyes, “What’s your name?”
Another glower and then the words softly, “Kyo.”
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I don’t believe in fate
Sometimes, it just happens
‘cause life gets bored
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