The Loneliness I Pride Myself On ~ 2/18~ [Reita/Ruki]
Title: The Loneliness I Pride Myself On
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha ( <-- Go read her stuff. It's A-MA-ZING! <3 )
Chapter: 2/18
Genre: AU, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, Smut
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita/Ruki (Akira/Takanori), Uruha/Aoi (Kouyou/Yuu)
Synopsis: Takanori liked to think that he hated everybody equally. Though, he had to admit, somewhat begrudgingly, that he hated a few less than others.
Warnings: Some violence, Use of real names, Profanity
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Previous Chapter
Viciously slamming the soundproof door of the familiar small practice room shut, Takanori let out an almost animalistic growl. ‘How dare he?! That arsehole!’ The condescending look that bastard gave Takanori irked him more than anything else ever had. ‘That utterly patronizing son of a bitch!’ What gave him the right to look down on the little blonde? What gave him - a useless clone - the right to treat Takanori like he was some delicate little being that could simply be let off the hook?
The stupid birdbrained blonde had never had a problem hitting Takanori before even beating him senseless sometimes, if properly provoked. So what was the difference today? Was it because he had asked to be hit? That meant Akira took pity on him. Takanori hated pity. It was a disgusting thing that was used as a way to look down on others and treat them as weaklings. At least, that’s what it was in the blonde music student’s mind.
Venomous thoughts raged through the blonde topped head of the small second year student. Flinging his bag across the room, spilling its’ few contents all over the soft carpeted floor, Takanori let out a loud frustrated scream. A feeling of freedom washed over him; he knew that the magnificently soundproof walls of the small practice room would shield his outburst from everyone. In that moment he hated the obnoxious third year more than he ever had. Loathed him with an intense burning passion that seeped into his veins, running through them and heating his blood to the point where he thought he might explode.
Takanori felt like he ought to put his fist through the thinly plastered wall, though he decided against it as that would lead to more trouble than it was worth. Parents to be called. Bills to be paid. Scolding to endure. Instead he kicked over the piano stool, letting out a snarl through his tightly clenched teeth. Tipping over a stand displaying scores of musical notes the paper fluttered to ground at the seething blonde’s feet. Reaching up he gripped his stylized blonde hair so tight he thought he might pull the delicate strands out of his scalp.
Akira’s harsh words ricocheted inside his skull. Taunting him. Mocking him. Biting ruthlessly through that hard titanium casing around his heart. That idiotic third year had no idea. Not a fucking clue how deeply his words had actually affected Takanori.
Suicidal…
No…
Fag…
Stop it…
Freak…
“Shut up!” Takanori screamed aloud this time. He beat his small fists rather harshly against the sides of his head in a vain attempt to knock the voice of that blonde moron out of his mind. The idiot had no idea what he was saying, no idea what he was really doing to the raging little blonde. No idea.
Taking in shaky breaths, the little blonde firecracker tried to calm himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, feeling as though his teeth might crack under the immense pressure he was applying to them. “Calm down, Takanori,” he spoke to himself in a hushed whisper. “He did it on purpose; he knew it’d piss you off. This is what the bastard wants. Calm down.” Takanori’s raging thoughts seemed to ease a little as he spoke to himself, convincing himself that he needed to take breath and relax. Thankfully he was in his safe place, the little practice room. His practice room. Those all-encompassing white walls offered him so much comfort. The furniture was always willing to accept his vicious attacks and the walls were always willing to listen to his screams and the abusive comments he spewed, all without complaint.
And, for that, Takanori was grateful.
***
Akira stood, completely frozen and unable to move, in the centre of the empty hallway. Takanori having left him there speechless as his small figure disappeared around the corner. Had he always enjoyed it when Akira hit him? Why? Was it always what Takanori had wanted? A deep frown graced the tall blonde’s features as he stared in the direction the little second year had left.
Truth be told, Akira had felt and overwhelmingly compelling need to go after Takanori since he’d first noticed him. There was an air of mystery about the little one that Akira found utterly inviting and he felt the need to conquer that secretiveness. Akira was somewhat notorious for being able to capture anyone he wanted, man or woman, without the need for much effort at all. Of course, he had his limits. Straight guys didn’t go for him nor did lesbian girls, but the blonde had a fairly keen gaydar. So he had no problem in that department. The moment he saw Takanori he just knew it, that little blonde was definitely not one to be wooed by women. Akira still remembered their first kind of conversation.
Leaning leisurely against the locker next to the one the small black and red haired first year had delved into, Akira smirked. ‘This one should be easy,’ the cocky second year thought to himself. Fist years were timid, especially on their first day. Senior high school was a big scary world, far scarier than elementary or middle school. It could be a dangerous place for someone so small and cute. And so Akira took it upon himself to… take the boy under his wing, in his own special way. The cute ones always seemed to fall head over heels as soon as the blonde second year payed them even the slightest bit of attention.
Akira watched as the red and black haired boy rummaged through his messy locker, obviously searching for something. It must’ve been something important because he was completely oblivious to the predator that’d closed in on him. That confident smirk grew into a cocky grin as the blonde watched the boy. Kid had a nice arse. Just his type.
“Hey there,” he purred to the smaller boy who seemed to disappear even further into his cluttered locker. Not receiving a reply Akira cleared his throat and spoke up slightly. Maybe he hadn’t been heard. “Hey.”
“Go away,” came the muffled voice from inside the locker. Takanori wasn’t interested in making friends, especially when he recognized that disgusting tone of voice. It was the kind of voice that he hated the most. The tone of voice that screamed ‘I’m a narcissistic arsehole who thinks I can do whatever I want’. No way was Takanori going to put up with that; and on his first day of high school as well. Groaning, he mumbled irately to himself, “Where is it?”
A little taken aback by the harshness of the little dark-haired boy’s reply Akira’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“There it is!” Takanori sighed in relief as he bent down and stuffed the black book into his bag. Bringing his head out of his locker and slamming it shut, Takanori looked up at Akira with a hideously fake smile plastered across his face. “You’re excuse,” he said with an enthusiastic politeness that was sarcastic and mocking. The little first year’s face dropped into a menacing scowl just before he turned on his heel and began his retreat.
The blonde second year stood in his place for a few seconds, totally dumbfounded as he watched after the first year. Akira couldn’t believe the kid’s nerve. No one spoke to him like that! He was top dog at this school, even though he was only a second year. Jogging after Takanori the taller took hold of his thin wrist, squeezing probably a little too tightly and spun him around, growling in his face, “What the fuck is your problem, kid?”
Takanori scowled and twisted his wrist our of Akira’s grip with a rough tug. “Don’t touch me,” his voice dripping with venom. “And don’t call me kid.”
Akira raised a trimmed eyebrow, “Oh? And what’re you going to do about it… kid?” The taller boy wanted to test Takanori to see how far the dark-haired boy’s feistiness could really go. Was the first year really willing to defend himself against someone who was significantly stronger and taller? Someone who obviously had the advantage in this situation.
Takanori growled and if looks could kill Akira would’ve been dead a thousand times over. “Fuck off,” he seethed. “I don’t want anything to do with you or your kind. So do me and yourself a favour and just turn around and walk away.”
Akira scrunched his nose under its material band, “My… kind? What the hell are you-?”
“Your kind,” Takanori interrupted him. “Conformists. Clones. Mindless fucking followers. I hate it when you people talk to me. You disgust me.” The way the little first year spat the words made Akira flinch ever so slightly. They seemed to be laced with an intense burning hated that made the blonde wonder what brought the smaller to say these kinds of things.
But his pride and irritation overrode that small spark of curiosity. One of his large hands darted out with almost inhuman speed to seize the collar of the first year’s cleanly pressed shirt in a tight fist. Yanking him close, Akira brought them nose to covered nose, a threatening animalist glint in his dark eyes. Just who did this kid think he was?
“Now, look here you little brat,” Akira growled through clenched teeth. By this time the students around them
had started to notice what was going on between the pair, shooting cautious glances their way. Everyone knew how horrid Akira’s temper could be, no one ever really dared to test him. Yet neither the blonde, nor the red and black-haired boy paid them any mind. “You’d better watch your tongue otherwise you may end up losing it. Got that?”
Takanori huffed, something that sounded much like a scoff to Akira which definitely didn’t go down well with
the fired up blonde. Akira raised his clenched fist, smirking as he saw the little dark-haired boy purse his lips, ready to receive the punishment that was headed his way. In the next moment the smaller boy was the one smirking, this caught Akira off guard which was exactly what Takanori wanted. In the small window of time, when that dumb blonde was distracted, Takanori swiftly lifted his knee to bring it into contact with the other’s groin.
The satisfying groan that left Akira’s lips as he released the other’s shirt and crumbled to the ground made the little first year grin mischievously. He knew a hit to the crotch was a low blow, but in that moment Takanori wanted nothing more than to be away from the encroaching presence of the tall blonde. Never underestimate Takanori. That boy could play dirty if he felt the need.
With a curl of his plush lip, Takanori shot a disdainful glare to the figure writhing in pain on the floor and crouched down to his level. “I warned you, arsehole. Stay the hell away from me.” And with that being said Takanori stood up and took his leave, ignoring the befuddled expressions of the people around him.
After that the unspoken hatred between the pair began, though Akira certainly had no intention whatsoever to leave Takanori the hell alone.
A small amount of movement directly to his left pulled the tall blonde out of his reminiscing state of mind, he turned his head in search of the source of silent disturbance. The presence was possibly the last one he’d expected to find. ‘This guy’s a friend of his,’ Akira thought. What was his name again? Akira wracked his brain in search of the answer. Achi… Atoi… Ao… i? Aoi! That was it.
The quiet raven his friend Kouyou never shut up about. It was always “Aoi this… Aoi that… Oh, and then me and Aoi!...” It honestly got on the third year’s nerves. Akira himself had never uttered so much as a word to the silent second year beside him and he was pretty certain Aoi never really uttered a word to anyone except Kouyou and Takanori. He couldn’t understand why his younger blonde friend was so taken by the reserved raven. He didn’t seem particularly interesting, plus it would be near impossible to have an actual conversation with him. Though, despite never having spoken to him, Akira knew that the little blonde and the raven were friends. He’d seen the duo smoking together on the metal landing that was meant to serve as an emergency exit should the need for one arise. He was the only person the feisty little blonde was nice to, so that must have made him pretty special somehow. But Akira couldn’t even begin to guess why.
Aoi stood and stared unblinkingly at Akira for what seemed like forever to the blonde. It wasn’t a threatening or encroaching stare; it had an air of calm to it. It felt like Aoi had something to tell him, and, given his impatient nature, Akira wished the raven would just spit it out already; but he got the feeling that wasn’t going to happen. Eventually he finally grew irritated with the raven’s lingering presence. Furrowing his brow deeper, Akira spoke in his gruff voice, “What are looking you at, kid?”
Seeming to ignore Akira’s obvious jab at the younger, the raven’s midnight coloured eyes darted momentarily in the direction Takanori had left in before his meaningful gaze settled back on the blonde. This seemed to mean that he’d witnessed their confrontation. ‘Creepy,’ Akira thought to himself as he shifted uneasily on his spot. ‘What could Kouyou possibly find so enthralling about this kid?’
Glancing back in that same direction again Akira said in a slightly softer yet still as gruff voice, “Is he always like that?” He obviously knew he wasn’t going to pry a verbal answer from the younger, so he didn’t really expect much. Turning his head back the third year saw Aoi’s slim shoulders rise slightly before dropping back down again in a small nonchalant shrug. This kid’s unwillingness to speak was starting to grate at his nerves. ‘How could Kouyou stand to be around such an irritatingly quiet person?’ No matter how many times he asked himself these questions he could never seem to find the answer. Maybe the chatty blonde was just crazy, plain and simple. “Do you ever talk?” He scowled at the shorter boy irately.
His gaze lingered meaningfully on Akira for a moment before Aoi began to make his way in the same direction Takanori had. The tall blonde understood that the raven wanted him to follow, and so he did, trailing a few steps behind the boy. Akira wondered where he could possibly be taking him. What could the raven offer him that could be of even mild interest? As they walked Akira’s mind inevitably strayed back to the little blonde, to the lyrics written in that precious black book of his. What had they meant? Did they have any specific meaning at all or were they just random words he’d haphazardly scribbled all over the paper? Somehow Akira got there feeling that there was more behind those words than the blonde was willing to let one to anyone, even Aoi.
It irked Akira how much more interested he’d become in the little second year in just a matter of minutes. All because of a few words.
Hit me…
No.
I dare you…
I won’t do it.
You should have hit me…
Why?
Akira growled under his breath as he continued to blindly follow Aoi, wherever he was leading him. Why? Akira himself didn’t even know the answer to that. What was wrong with Takanori? That little idiot. ‘Obviously he’s beyond fucked up,’ the blonde thought to himself. ‘Or maybe he just has some weird sadist fetish and he likes to be abused,’ Akira scoffed quietly. Now that’d be something funny. Though, he seemed to believe that that wasn’t the case at all.
Suddenly coming to a halt, Akira almost ran into the smaller raven’s thin form. “What the…?” He was about to demand what the younger one’s problem was when he noticed that Aoi wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the dark haired second year was staring dead ahead, into one of the only lit rooms left in the school, which now eerily resembled ghost town with the students having left for the day. Despite Aoi obviously wanting him to, Akira wasn’t sure if he wanted to look because he had a feeling he knew what would be behind the door.
It was only when he heard a very faint, muffled scream that he followed Aoi’s example and looked up. From their place standing on the other side of the dim hallway Akira could see through the glass window in the door into the brightly lit practice room. In the middle of it stood the little blonde he’d confronted not ten minutes ago. His usually pale face was red, a thin vein on his neck standing out from his intense screaming; screaming so loud it could be heard from outside a soundproof room. The contents of the blonde’s black leather bag lay spewed on the floor, indicating that he’d flung it there himself. A small pang of guilt resonated through Akira’s gut as he watched Takanori swing his foot out and kick the piano stool to the other side of the small room and then proceed to knock over a music stand, the paper fluttering down to his feet. Frowning, the third year watched Takanori bring his small hands up to grip his blonde hair and screw his eyes shut as he seemed to yell something that looked like ‘shut up’.
When Takanori started to bang his small fists against the sides of his head, with what looked like considerable force, Akira decided he’d seen enough. Taking a step forward his hand began to reach out for the handle of the door.
“Don’t.”
The velvety voice that sounded from behind him stopped Akira dead in his tracks and, slightly wide-eyed; he snapped his head back to look at the source. Aoi still stared straight ahead at his friend, who now appeared to be talking to himself, not bothering to meet the surprised gaze of the startled third year.
“Leave him be,” Aoi stated in a voice that was barely above a whisper, continuing to stare at his distressed friend.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Akira demanded jabbing his finger in the direction of the door the little blonde was enclosed behind. “He’s your friend, isn’t he?” What was this kid’s problem? He sounded like he wasn’t even the slightest bit worried.
Aoi nodded once, finally tearing his midnight coloured eyes away from the image of a distressed Takanori to look calming at the almost as equally distressed Akira. “But there’s nothing I can do for him.”
Akira scowled at the raven as his mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief. Aoi’s voice didn’t even show a hint of concern, or of being upset. All the blonde could hear was clam. Nothing more, nothing less. He felt like he was more concerned than the raven, which Akira found kind of weird. He was positive Aoi’s worries would be far more accepted by the little blonde than his own. The other second year was his friend after all.
The raven kept starting, as if he expected Akira to do something. The stare wasn’t anything encroaching; in fact it was anything but. However it still managed to get under Akira’s skin and piss him off. Growling, Akira folding his arms over his broad chest, “Why isn’t there anything you can do?”
The corner of Aoi’s lip appeared to tug upwards ever so slightly in what one might call a remorseful smile. That’s when Akira understood that Aoi had probably seen more than one of Takanori’s little outbursts and he’d probably tried to help before as well, but the angry little blonde had only sent him away. As if reading the tall blonde’s thoughts Aoi nodded and said, “Takanori doesn’t want anyone’s help.”
With a scowl still etched into his brow and confusion lacing his voice, Akira grumbled, “Then why bring me here? Why show me what he does when he’s like this if no one, not even you, can do anything about it?”
Aoi stayed silent. But not to Akira’s surprise, the raven had so little to say that he didn’t really expect the second year to answer all or anyone of his questions. The raven just gave him a knowing look before he turned on his heel and began to make his way down the hall.
Akira was incredibly confused to say the absolute least. What the hell just happened? He was fairly sure Aoi had just spoken more to him that he had to Takanori, or even Kouyou, in the last year. So why come to him? Why come to the one who started to problem in search of some kind of solution. Because that’s obviously what Aoi was looking for in Akira. The reserved raven had a way of making you understand exactly what he’s thinking just by the expression in his eyes, though Akira understood that the raven would only let you see what he wanted you to see. And what about Takanori? Did he have this kind of reaction every time the pair butted heads? Akira felt a small pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Their seemingly meaningless squabbles obviously had more of an effect on Takanori than Akira had originally thought. But why did he care? Takanori was meant to be someone he hated, the only person who’d ever refused his advances. That’s right, that little blonde was -
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” An outraged yell came from the only direction the blonde third year didn’t want it to. He’d obviously been so deep in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed the door to the, now ruined, practice room open.
‘Uh oh,’ Akira thought. ‘Busted.’
Next Chapter
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A/N: So here is chapter two! I'm really liking writing this and from the feedback I've gotten other people are enjoying reading it, so I'm very very pleased about that.
So, thank you for reading and enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think! :)
- R xx
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha ( <-- Go read her stuff. It's A-MA-ZING! <3 )
Chapter: 2/18
Genre: AU, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, Smut
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita/Ruki (Akira/Takanori), Uruha/Aoi (Kouyou/Yuu)
Synopsis: Takanori liked to think that he hated everybody equally. Though, he had to admit, somewhat begrudgingly, that he hated a few less than others.
Warnings: Some violence, Use of real names, Profanity
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Previous Chapter
Viciously slamming the soundproof door of the familiar small practice room shut, Takanori let out an almost animalistic growl. ‘How dare he?! That arsehole!’ The condescending look that bastard gave Takanori irked him more than anything else ever had. ‘That utterly patronizing son of a bitch!’ What gave him the right to look down on the little blonde? What gave him - a useless clone - the right to treat Takanori like he was some delicate little being that could simply be let off the hook?
The stupid birdbrained blonde had never had a problem hitting Takanori before even beating him senseless sometimes, if properly provoked. So what was the difference today? Was it because he had asked to be hit? That meant Akira took pity on him. Takanori hated pity. It was a disgusting thing that was used as a way to look down on others and treat them as weaklings. At least, that’s what it was in the blonde music student’s mind.
Venomous thoughts raged through the blonde topped head of the small second year student. Flinging his bag across the room, spilling its’ few contents all over the soft carpeted floor, Takanori let out a loud frustrated scream. A feeling of freedom washed over him; he knew that the magnificently soundproof walls of the small practice room would shield his outburst from everyone. In that moment he hated the obnoxious third year more than he ever had. Loathed him with an intense burning passion that seeped into his veins, running through them and heating his blood to the point where he thought he might explode.
Takanori felt like he ought to put his fist through the thinly plastered wall, though he decided against it as that would lead to more trouble than it was worth. Parents to be called. Bills to be paid. Scolding to endure. Instead he kicked over the piano stool, letting out a snarl through his tightly clenched teeth. Tipping over a stand displaying scores of musical notes the paper fluttered to ground at the seething blonde’s feet. Reaching up he gripped his stylized blonde hair so tight he thought he might pull the delicate strands out of his scalp.
Akira’s harsh words ricocheted inside his skull. Taunting him. Mocking him. Biting ruthlessly through that hard titanium casing around his heart. That idiotic third year had no idea. Not a fucking clue how deeply his words had actually affected Takanori.
Suicidal…
No…
Fag…
Stop it…
Freak…
“Shut up!” Takanori screamed aloud this time. He beat his small fists rather harshly against the sides of his head in a vain attempt to knock the voice of that blonde moron out of his mind. The idiot had no idea what he was saying, no idea what he was really doing to the raging little blonde. No idea.
Taking in shaky breaths, the little blonde firecracker tried to calm himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, feeling as though his teeth might crack under the immense pressure he was applying to them. “Calm down, Takanori,” he spoke to himself in a hushed whisper. “He did it on purpose; he knew it’d piss you off. This is what the bastard wants. Calm down.” Takanori’s raging thoughts seemed to ease a little as he spoke to himself, convincing himself that he needed to take breath and relax. Thankfully he was in his safe place, the little practice room. His practice room. Those all-encompassing white walls offered him so much comfort. The furniture was always willing to accept his vicious attacks and the walls were always willing to listen to his screams and the abusive comments he spewed, all without complaint.
And, for that, Takanori was grateful.
***
Akira stood, completely frozen and unable to move, in the centre of the empty hallway. Takanori having left him there speechless as his small figure disappeared around the corner. Had he always enjoyed it when Akira hit him? Why? Was it always what Takanori had wanted? A deep frown graced the tall blonde’s features as he stared in the direction the little second year had left.
Truth be told, Akira had felt and overwhelmingly compelling need to go after Takanori since he’d first noticed him. There was an air of mystery about the little one that Akira found utterly inviting and he felt the need to conquer that secretiveness. Akira was somewhat notorious for being able to capture anyone he wanted, man or woman, without the need for much effort at all. Of course, he had his limits. Straight guys didn’t go for him nor did lesbian girls, but the blonde had a fairly keen gaydar. So he had no problem in that department. The moment he saw Takanori he just knew it, that little blonde was definitely not one to be wooed by women. Akira still remembered their first kind of conversation.
Leaning leisurely against the locker next to the one the small black and red haired first year had delved into, Akira smirked. ‘This one should be easy,’ the cocky second year thought to himself. Fist years were timid, especially on their first day. Senior high school was a big scary world, far scarier than elementary or middle school. It could be a dangerous place for someone so small and cute. And so Akira took it upon himself to… take the boy under his wing, in his own special way. The cute ones always seemed to fall head over heels as soon as the blonde second year payed them even the slightest bit of attention.
Akira watched as the red and black haired boy rummaged through his messy locker, obviously searching for something. It must’ve been something important because he was completely oblivious to the predator that’d closed in on him. That confident smirk grew into a cocky grin as the blonde watched the boy. Kid had a nice arse. Just his type.
“Hey there,” he purred to the smaller boy who seemed to disappear even further into his cluttered locker. Not receiving a reply Akira cleared his throat and spoke up slightly. Maybe he hadn’t been heard. “Hey.”
“Go away,” came the muffled voice from inside the locker. Takanori wasn’t interested in making friends, especially when he recognized that disgusting tone of voice. It was the kind of voice that he hated the most. The tone of voice that screamed ‘I’m a narcissistic arsehole who thinks I can do whatever I want’. No way was Takanori going to put up with that; and on his first day of high school as well. Groaning, he mumbled irately to himself, “Where is it?”
A little taken aback by the harshness of the little dark-haired boy’s reply Akira’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“There it is!” Takanori sighed in relief as he bent down and stuffed the black book into his bag. Bringing his head out of his locker and slamming it shut, Takanori looked up at Akira with a hideously fake smile plastered across his face. “You’re excuse,” he said with an enthusiastic politeness that was sarcastic and mocking. The little first year’s face dropped into a menacing scowl just before he turned on his heel and began his retreat.
The blonde second year stood in his place for a few seconds, totally dumbfounded as he watched after the first year. Akira couldn’t believe the kid’s nerve. No one spoke to him like that! He was top dog at this school, even though he was only a second year. Jogging after Takanori the taller took hold of his thin wrist, squeezing probably a little too tightly and spun him around, growling in his face, “What the fuck is your problem, kid?”
Takanori scowled and twisted his wrist our of Akira’s grip with a rough tug. “Don’t touch me,” his voice dripping with venom. “And don’t call me kid.”
Akira raised a trimmed eyebrow, “Oh? And what’re you going to do about it… kid?” The taller boy wanted to test Takanori to see how far the dark-haired boy’s feistiness could really go. Was the first year really willing to defend himself against someone who was significantly stronger and taller? Someone who obviously had the advantage in this situation.
Takanori growled and if looks could kill Akira would’ve been dead a thousand times over. “Fuck off,” he seethed. “I don’t want anything to do with you or your kind. So do me and yourself a favour and just turn around and walk away.”
Akira scrunched his nose under its material band, “My… kind? What the hell are you-?”
“Your kind,” Takanori interrupted him. “Conformists. Clones. Mindless fucking followers. I hate it when you people talk to me. You disgust me.” The way the little first year spat the words made Akira flinch ever so slightly. They seemed to be laced with an intense burning hated that made the blonde wonder what brought the smaller to say these kinds of things.
But his pride and irritation overrode that small spark of curiosity. One of his large hands darted out with almost inhuman speed to seize the collar of the first year’s cleanly pressed shirt in a tight fist. Yanking him close, Akira brought them nose to covered nose, a threatening animalist glint in his dark eyes. Just who did this kid think he was?
“Now, look here you little brat,” Akira growled through clenched teeth. By this time the students around them
had started to notice what was going on between the pair, shooting cautious glances their way. Everyone knew how horrid Akira’s temper could be, no one ever really dared to test him. Yet neither the blonde, nor the red and black-haired boy paid them any mind. “You’d better watch your tongue otherwise you may end up losing it. Got that?”
Takanori huffed, something that sounded much like a scoff to Akira which definitely didn’t go down well with
the fired up blonde. Akira raised his clenched fist, smirking as he saw the little dark-haired boy purse his lips, ready to receive the punishment that was headed his way. In the next moment the smaller boy was the one smirking, this caught Akira off guard which was exactly what Takanori wanted. In the small window of time, when that dumb blonde was distracted, Takanori swiftly lifted his knee to bring it into contact with the other’s groin.
The satisfying groan that left Akira’s lips as he released the other’s shirt and crumbled to the ground made the little first year grin mischievously. He knew a hit to the crotch was a low blow, but in that moment Takanori wanted nothing more than to be away from the encroaching presence of the tall blonde. Never underestimate Takanori. That boy could play dirty if he felt the need.
With a curl of his plush lip, Takanori shot a disdainful glare to the figure writhing in pain on the floor and crouched down to his level. “I warned you, arsehole. Stay the hell away from me.” And with that being said Takanori stood up and took his leave, ignoring the befuddled expressions of the people around him.
After that the unspoken hatred between the pair began, though Akira certainly had no intention whatsoever to leave Takanori the hell alone.
A small amount of movement directly to his left pulled the tall blonde out of his reminiscing state of mind, he turned his head in search of the source of silent disturbance. The presence was possibly the last one he’d expected to find. ‘This guy’s a friend of his,’ Akira thought. What was his name again? Akira wracked his brain in search of the answer. Achi… Atoi… Ao… i? Aoi! That was it.
The quiet raven his friend Kouyou never shut up about. It was always “Aoi this… Aoi that… Oh, and then me and Aoi!...” It honestly got on the third year’s nerves. Akira himself had never uttered so much as a word to the silent second year beside him and he was pretty certain Aoi never really uttered a word to anyone except Kouyou and Takanori. He couldn’t understand why his younger blonde friend was so taken by the reserved raven. He didn’t seem particularly interesting, plus it would be near impossible to have an actual conversation with him. Though, despite never having spoken to him, Akira knew that the little blonde and the raven were friends. He’d seen the duo smoking together on the metal landing that was meant to serve as an emergency exit should the need for one arise. He was the only person the feisty little blonde was nice to, so that must have made him pretty special somehow. But Akira couldn’t even begin to guess why.
Aoi stood and stared unblinkingly at Akira for what seemed like forever to the blonde. It wasn’t a threatening or encroaching stare; it had an air of calm to it. It felt like Aoi had something to tell him, and, given his impatient nature, Akira wished the raven would just spit it out already; but he got the feeling that wasn’t going to happen. Eventually he finally grew irritated with the raven’s lingering presence. Furrowing his brow deeper, Akira spoke in his gruff voice, “What are looking you at, kid?”
Seeming to ignore Akira’s obvious jab at the younger, the raven’s midnight coloured eyes darted momentarily in the direction Takanori had left in before his meaningful gaze settled back on the blonde. This seemed to mean that he’d witnessed their confrontation. ‘Creepy,’ Akira thought to himself as he shifted uneasily on his spot. ‘What could Kouyou possibly find so enthralling about this kid?’
Glancing back in that same direction again Akira said in a slightly softer yet still as gruff voice, “Is he always like that?” He obviously knew he wasn’t going to pry a verbal answer from the younger, so he didn’t really expect much. Turning his head back the third year saw Aoi’s slim shoulders rise slightly before dropping back down again in a small nonchalant shrug. This kid’s unwillingness to speak was starting to grate at his nerves. ‘How could Kouyou stand to be around such an irritatingly quiet person?’ No matter how many times he asked himself these questions he could never seem to find the answer. Maybe the chatty blonde was just crazy, plain and simple. “Do you ever talk?” He scowled at the shorter boy irately.
His gaze lingered meaningfully on Akira for a moment before Aoi began to make his way in the same direction Takanori had. The tall blonde understood that the raven wanted him to follow, and so he did, trailing a few steps behind the boy. Akira wondered where he could possibly be taking him. What could the raven offer him that could be of even mild interest? As they walked Akira’s mind inevitably strayed back to the little blonde, to the lyrics written in that precious black book of his. What had they meant? Did they have any specific meaning at all or were they just random words he’d haphazardly scribbled all over the paper? Somehow Akira got there feeling that there was more behind those words than the blonde was willing to let one to anyone, even Aoi.
It irked Akira how much more interested he’d become in the little second year in just a matter of minutes. All because of a few words.
Hit me…
No.
I dare you…
I won’t do it.
You should have hit me…
Why?
Akira growled under his breath as he continued to blindly follow Aoi, wherever he was leading him. Why? Akira himself didn’t even know the answer to that. What was wrong with Takanori? That little idiot. ‘Obviously he’s beyond fucked up,’ the blonde thought to himself. ‘Or maybe he just has some weird sadist fetish and he likes to be abused,’ Akira scoffed quietly. Now that’d be something funny. Though, he seemed to believe that that wasn’t the case at all.
Suddenly coming to a halt, Akira almost ran into the smaller raven’s thin form. “What the…?” He was about to demand what the younger one’s problem was when he noticed that Aoi wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the dark haired second year was staring dead ahead, into one of the only lit rooms left in the school, which now eerily resembled ghost town with the students having left for the day. Despite Aoi obviously wanting him to, Akira wasn’t sure if he wanted to look because he had a feeling he knew what would be behind the door.
It was only when he heard a very faint, muffled scream that he followed Aoi’s example and looked up. From their place standing on the other side of the dim hallway Akira could see through the glass window in the door into the brightly lit practice room. In the middle of it stood the little blonde he’d confronted not ten minutes ago. His usually pale face was red, a thin vein on his neck standing out from his intense screaming; screaming so loud it could be heard from outside a soundproof room. The contents of the blonde’s black leather bag lay spewed on the floor, indicating that he’d flung it there himself. A small pang of guilt resonated through Akira’s gut as he watched Takanori swing his foot out and kick the piano stool to the other side of the small room and then proceed to knock over a music stand, the paper fluttering down to his feet. Frowning, the third year watched Takanori bring his small hands up to grip his blonde hair and screw his eyes shut as he seemed to yell something that looked like ‘shut up’.
When Takanori started to bang his small fists against the sides of his head, with what looked like considerable force, Akira decided he’d seen enough. Taking a step forward his hand began to reach out for the handle of the door.
“Don’t.”
The velvety voice that sounded from behind him stopped Akira dead in his tracks and, slightly wide-eyed; he snapped his head back to look at the source. Aoi still stared straight ahead at his friend, who now appeared to be talking to himself, not bothering to meet the surprised gaze of the startled third year.
“Leave him be,” Aoi stated in a voice that was barely above a whisper, continuing to stare at his distressed friend.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Akira demanded jabbing his finger in the direction of the door the little blonde was enclosed behind. “He’s your friend, isn’t he?” What was this kid’s problem? He sounded like he wasn’t even the slightest bit worried.
Aoi nodded once, finally tearing his midnight coloured eyes away from the image of a distressed Takanori to look calming at the almost as equally distressed Akira. “But there’s nothing I can do for him.”
Akira scowled at the raven as his mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief. Aoi’s voice didn’t even show a hint of concern, or of being upset. All the blonde could hear was clam. Nothing more, nothing less. He felt like he was more concerned than the raven, which Akira found kind of weird. He was positive Aoi’s worries would be far more accepted by the little blonde than his own. The other second year was his friend after all.
The raven kept starting, as if he expected Akira to do something. The stare wasn’t anything encroaching; in fact it was anything but. However it still managed to get under Akira’s skin and piss him off. Growling, Akira folding his arms over his broad chest, “Why isn’t there anything you can do?”
The corner of Aoi’s lip appeared to tug upwards ever so slightly in what one might call a remorseful smile. That’s when Akira understood that Aoi had probably seen more than one of Takanori’s little outbursts and he’d probably tried to help before as well, but the angry little blonde had only sent him away. As if reading the tall blonde’s thoughts Aoi nodded and said, “Takanori doesn’t want anyone’s help.”
With a scowl still etched into his brow and confusion lacing his voice, Akira grumbled, “Then why bring me here? Why show me what he does when he’s like this if no one, not even you, can do anything about it?”
Aoi stayed silent. But not to Akira’s surprise, the raven had so little to say that he didn’t really expect the second year to answer all or anyone of his questions. The raven just gave him a knowing look before he turned on his heel and began to make his way down the hall.
Akira was incredibly confused to say the absolute least. What the hell just happened? He was fairly sure Aoi had just spoken more to him that he had to Takanori, or even Kouyou, in the last year. So why come to him? Why come to the one who started to problem in search of some kind of solution. Because that’s obviously what Aoi was looking for in Akira. The reserved raven had a way of making you understand exactly what he’s thinking just by the expression in his eyes, though Akira understood that the raven would only let you see what he wanted you to see. And what about Takanori? Did he have this kind of reaction every time the pair butted heads? Akira felt a small pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Their seemingly meaningless squabbles obviously had more of an effect on Takanori than Akira had originally thought. But why did he care? Takanori was meant to be someone he hated, the only person who’d ever refused his advances. That’s right, that little blonde was -
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” An outraged yell came from the only direction the blonde third year didn’t want it to. He’d obviously been so deep in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed the door to the, now ruined, practice room open.
‘Uh oh,’ Akira thought. ‘Busted.’
Next Chapter
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A/N: So here is chapter two! I'm really liking writing this and from the feedback I've gotten other people are enjoying reading it, so I'm very very pleased about that.
So, thank you for reading and enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think! :)
- R xx