Gaining Your Love: a Heisei Kumi fanfic (7/14)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Ariyama
Rating: PG-13
Genre:Romance
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone, c'mon guys.
Summary:Long before the Heisei Kumi knew Keito Daiki makes it his mission to make the stunning Yamada Ryosuke fall in love with him, and it's going to be much harger than Daiki expected. So! For anyone who read my Heisei Kumi fic, this is the Ariyama spinoff I said I'd write! And if you didn't read it, please go check it out. The first chapter can be found here.
A/N: Um, so...this is the other banner. Also, silent readers! Please comment! I love you guys, and I'd love to tell you that personally~
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
He stood there, back against the outer wall until his world of dread was interrupted by the front door opening, Yabu and Takaki clopping down the steps, ready for a night on the town. They both clapped him on the shoulder as they passed, and he hid the bag under his knees, suspending the drawstring from a finger, trying to act normal.
He slipped the bag under one arm discretely, and hurried through the house to his room, where he took the bag, and shoved it in his bedside table drawer. He contemplated for almost twenty minutes before taking the pistol back out, and shoving it into the waistband of his jeans, hiding it under his shirt at the small of his back, a terrifying weight falling on his shoulders as the actions acknowledged his new responsibility. He was just about to go and sit outside Yamada's bedroom door when Inoo came in, flopping down on his bed and catching Daiki's eye.
"You going again?" Daiki nodded. Inoo let out a sigh.
"Dai-chan, do you want Yamada to fall in love with you?" It was a rhetorical question.
"Think about it. You're repenting. You feel awful, and you're showing it. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it...except him. Yamada has no idea. Look at things the way he must be seeing them right now. He doesn't know that you sit up for him, and cry for him every night. He doesn't know that you've been miserable since you left him in the rain. He doesn't know any of that. How could he? You haven't told him. As far as he knows you don't even care that he exists. You haven't said anything to him since that last raid. You ditch him in the rain, then all of a sudden you shield him from some bastards, and he doesn't know what to think. He's upset, he's afraid. Now it looks like you're ignoring him, and he's confused as hell." Inoo paused, giving a moment for the weight of his words to sink in.
"Look, I'm not telling you to stop or whatever, but there might be a more effective way to do this. And don't think that sitting on the other side of his bedroom door is going to change anything."
Daiki let a sigh escape his lips, too exhausted from his emotional roller coaster to focus on Inoo's words of wisdom. He didn't forget them though, he stored them in his brain, and the next day after a successful swindle he sat down in a cafe and let the advice roll around his brain. Inoo made a lot of sense, he admitted grudgingly. Then came the new task: finding a good way to change things. He borrowed a pen from the waiter, and brainstormed for a long time, writing ideas all over a napkin from the cafe in sprawling handwriting, often crossing them out immediately, cursing quietly to himself. Frustration built up, and he buried his face in his hands, moaning lowly. He ordered a second drink, and returned the pen to the waiter, letting his mind wander for a few minutes. What did he want to be able to convey to Yamada? Suddenly, inspiration struck, and he sat up in his booth, a grin taking over his face of its own accord. Perfect. He left some money on the table, and hurried out, mind buzzing with new possibilities, an excited energy in his chest.
You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.
Daiki took his little sentence full of love and reread it with satisfaction. He then grabbed the tape dispenser he had picked up from the convenience store, and wrapped the paper around Yamada's toothbrush, sticking it in place with a little square of tape. The next day, the note was gone. A little leap of hope thumped his stomach. He continued to write little notes and hiding them in places only Yamada would look. He put them on the seat of the boys chair, on the sheath of his katana, in his laundry, and his shoes, in between the pages of the book Yamada was reading, and in the chess set. When it was Yamada's turn to cook dinner he stuck notes all over the kitchen, in pots and pans and on knives and in the fridge. As time went by the notes went from little notes of admiration, to those of apology, things like I don't deserve your forgiveness. and You were too important to screw up on. I failed you. now interspersed with the ones stating things like You mean the world to me.
Your eyes are like chocolate, rich and warm, and sweet.
"Yosh!" He picked up his new mini confession and examined his handiwork. He put the cap on his marker, and from his box he picked a new color, decorating the edges of the paper with little designs, a content smile on his face.
"What's that?" at the sound of the voice Daiki jumped a foot in the air, and swept all of his little strips of paper close to him, hunching over his work, surprised.
"What the hell?" Inoo asked, and Daiki looked up at his friend, letting out a breath of relief.
"It's just you, Inoo-chan." Inoo sent a pout Daiki's way.
"Yeah, love you too. What are you doing?" Daiki leaned back in his chair, rearranging the little strips of paper and picking up a marker or two that had crashed to the floor.
"D'you remember that night a couple of weeks ago when you gave me the 'Yamada-doesn't-know-you-love-him-because-your-methods-suck' speech?" Inoo nodded, his expression showing that he had no idea where Daiki was going with this.
"Well, I thought about it, and I'm doing this!" He held out his newly decorated sentence. Inoo took it, reading it, and a grin spread on his face, growing until his eyes disappeared in it.
"Dai-chan, this....this is the cheesiest, most adorable thing you have ever done in your life. Shit―you're cute." He wrapped his arms around Daiki's shoulders from behind, their cheeks pressing together.
"D'you want any help?" He asked, setting the piece of paper down on the table Daiki was working at. Daiki shook his head, his eye catching on a stray marker, and diving under the table to fetch it.
"I'm going to do it on my own, ya know? Thanks though, buddy." Inoo nodded, and left him to his work, and Daiki stared down at the bundle of new messages. Now he just needed spots to put them.
The weeks went by, and he saved the one I'm sorry. too scared to release it for Yamada to find. To afraid to properly apologize. Because through it all Yamada still hadn't talked to him. Yamada still had nightmares. And through it all Daiki still hadn't found the ability to walk through that door, and rescue him.
The night of July 15 rolled around, and Daiki had finally found the guts to tape the simple "I'm sorry." to the wall by Yamada's bed, in the boys room. Nerves had him unable to sit still, and he went out in the alley, dragging Takaki along with him for sparring practice. Daiki distracted himself by focusing all of his energy on Takaki. On defeating Takaki. Poor Takaki didn't stand much of a chance. Daiki had just pinned him to the ground for the third time that evening, when Ryutaro interrupted their scuffle, walking through them on his way out. He was dressed up, and he had a package all done up in shiny paper and ribbons under one arm. Both Daiki and Takaki stopped to examine their housemate.
"What's the occasion?" Ryutaro glanced over at them, a smile on his face.
"Shintaro. It's his birthday. We hang out all night every year on his birthday."
"Oh...well...have fun." Ryu nodded, and said
"I'll see you two tomorrow." a crooked smile playing on his lips. He walked off with a rare bounce in his step. After he turned the corner Daiki returned his attention to the taller boy laying under him, and before Takaki could get up he aimed a punch at his face, stopping it a hair above his nose. They stared at each other for a moment before Daiki let his arm go limp, and he stood up, brushing his pants off and helping Takaki to his feet.
"You've changed, you know that?"
"Huh?" Daiki wiped the sweat from his upper lip and his forehead and leaned against the side of one of the abandoned surrounding buildings.
"Last year you woulda slugged me in the face. You wouldn't have stopped yourself. You're more controlled now. More aware...of humanity. Like we're actually people to you now. You're not so...unemotional. You used to be ruthless you know. Well, you're still ruthless, I guess, but now you're just more...aware of it. I dunno if what I'm saying makes any sense, but...I like you better this way." Takaki glanced over at Daiki, his honesty burning through Daiki, and Daiki contemplated his words.
"Maybe it's because you finally have something you want to protect." Takaki offered, brushing himself off and heading back inside, the door swinging shut noisily behind him. Something he wanted to protect. Yes, he did have that. Takaki's words made him self-conscious, but he tucked that feeling away and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, letting them rake over the brick wall, tracing the shadows and dips where the mortar held the wall together. After a moment of blank calm he pushed his weight off of the wall and followed Takaki back inside, feeling hyperaware of himself.
After a quick shower and a few games of cards with Chinen, Inoo, and Hikaru, he went back to his room, slipping on loose sweatpants to sleep in and taking off his shirt, examining himself for a minute in the cheap full-body mirror that hung on his closet door. His muscles rippled under his skin, and there were scars reminding him of past battles and enemies. The most prominent was the one from the Wakaba bastard's knife, a purplish line slashing through his stomach. One day it would fade and nearly disappear. He let his eyes travel over his face. What if he got a knife to the face? What would he look like with a scar running down his cheek? With a chunk of his eyebrow permanently removed, or his lips caught in a snarl he would never be able to replace with a smile? He ran his fingers over his smooth skin while he contemplated, before sighing and leaving, walking up the hallway and rounding the corner to the end of that hall, pressing his ear to the door. Yamada had already gone to bed, he had seen him go upstairs, and it was around his bedtime. He should have seen the note...right? A knot of nervous anticipation formed in his stomach and he sat down, pressing his bare back against the wall, it's cool surface sending a shiver down his spine. He had sat there for almost two hours when he first heard it. A whimper. Dread rang through him. The second one confirmed his fear, and he cursed, hating the sound. Then, his name. Faint sounding through the door, he heard Yamada call for him.
"No! I...no! Daiki....D-daiki! Please! No!...Daiki!" He waited for the light to flick on, for the sounds of Ryutaro comforting Yamada to stop the pleads. They didn't come. Daiki wondered sickly what was taking him so long, he had never taken this long to wake before...Realization hit him In a stroke of understanding. Ryutaro wasn't coming to save Yamada tonight. Tonight he was out with his brother. Daiki looked at the door as though if he stared at it long enough it would show him what he should do. A yell from the room jolted him to his feet and he wrenched the door open, eyes locking on the lower bunk frantically. Yamada was tangled up in his blankets, limbs thrashing about, tears running down his cheeks. A whimper brought Daiki to his side, and he poked Yamada in the cheek. Nothing. He tried harder. Nothing. He shook his shoulder. Nope. Finally he took his fingers and pried Yamadas eyes open gently. Yamada sat up with a start, and after a second he burst into tears. Sobs racked his frame, the fourteen year old's muscular shoulders shaking, has hands reaching out blindly. Daiki sat on the bed, opening his arms, and to his amazement Yamada clung onto him, burying his face in Daikis shoulder, tears and snot smearing on his skin. Yamadas arms wrapped around Daiki's torso, fingernails digging into his back, and with shaky breaths he whispered
"Daiki." Repeatedly, as though his name would fix everything. Daiki was shocked, and he just sat stunned for nearly a full minute before allowing himself to wrap his arms around Yamadas torso, pulling him close.
"Shhh...it's okay. I'm here now. It was just a dream." Concern for the little boy was all that was on his mind, and he muttered soothing words and rubbed his back, feeling Yamada's heart pulsing quick and strong. Time stood still, and eventually Yamada fell silent, his breathing ragged, gasping and uneven. His head rested on Daiki's shoulder, and he eventually fell motionless. Daiki thought he had fallen asleep, until suddenly he unfurled his arm from Daiki's body and reached up, pulling something off of the wall behind them. Then Yamada pulled away altogether, standing up and walking over to the closet, pulling the door open. Daiki shivered when Yamada left him; feeling empty. Yamada shouldn't go. He should stay there all night, curled up in Daiki's arms. His eyes followed the littler boy, confused as to what he was doing. Then, he noticed the inside of the closet door, and it made sense. There, taped down in a cluster was every little note Daiki had ever hidden. With care Yamada stuck the new note among all of the others, smoothing it out with gentle fingers.
In silence Yamada padded back to the bed, sitting down in front of Daiki, eyes searching Daiki's face, his expression blank. Daiki let his eyes wander over Yamada's face too. His cheeks were blotchy and red, and his hair was all messed up. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, and his nose was running. He was stunning. Tentatively Daiki reached up, and after giving Yamada a moment to back away he wiped the tears from Yamadas cheeks, and the snot from his nose, and smiled a little smile. Yamada shut his eyes, and Daiki whispered
"You should probably go back to sleep." Wordlessly Yamada climbed back under his blankets, and Daiki made to stand up, feeling as though he wasn't wanted there anymore. He was stopped by Yamada grabbing his wrist.
"Don't...go. Please." Yamada looked scared, like a puppy being abandoned in a cardboard box. It was a look Daiki had seen once before, the look Yamada had given him when he'd abandoned him in the rain. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, scooting over to the corner against the wall and he leaned back against one of the posts supporting the top bunk.
"I'll stay." He pulled his knees to his chest, his feet resting against the side of Yamada's calves through the sheets. The fear left Yamada's eyes and he let out a breath he'd been holding, adjusting his head on his pillow he closed his eyes. In less than ten minutes he was out cold, peaceful and comfortable looking. Daiki watched him sleep, watched the calm, beautiful face and the steady rise and fall of the sheets. The hours ticked by and Daiki felt his eyelids begin to droop, itching and aching with tiredness. He fought against it, but eventually sleep took hold, and he fell into his dream world.
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