Do Scars Fade: a Heisei Kumi Fanfic (17/18)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Keito-centric, with some side Ariyama and Chiitaro
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Violence; Consensual sex between adults
Genre: Slice of life
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone.
Summary: Keito is left in a state of depression after the loss of his boyfriend, but with the help of his housemates he begins to regain his appreciation for life, and find happiness again.
A/N: This is another instalation in my Heisei Kumi AU! This fic is a direct sequel to Sequence of Upsets, and is the third one written from Keito's perspective. If you haven't read Sequence of Upsets, or the first fic, My New Family, then you may be confused. This fic starts at the end of February 2014, so about six months afterSequence of Upsets ends. Enjoy!Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
In the months to come Keito adjusted to his newly accepted feelings for the Kumi-cho. Now that they had been acknowledged, he tried to figure out just when they had begun, the thought that perhaps if he knew why he felt the way he did then he could suppress those feelings more effectively. The attempt was eventually abandoned when try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint a specific quality or moment that had been the reason for his love. He didn't know when it had happened, or why it had happened. He and Hikaru had always had a special bond. Perhaps there had always been some love between them. Regardless, he managed-for the most part-to keep his feelings in check. No one seemed to suspect a thing, and if he slipped up occasionally, and found himself staring for too long, or leaning into Hikaru's side, at least the leader seemed to be oblivious.
Winter turned to spring, and with it the warmer weather brought new problems for Keito to deal with, his resolve being tested on a nearly daily basis when Hikaru would ask him to spar, the older man discarding his shirt, his muscular torso bare in the warm sun, sweat running down his skin as they circled each other. Keito tried not to relish the feeling of Hikaru's body pressed up against his own, tried to focus on the fact that Hikaru was trying to defeat him, on the fact that if he wanted to impress Hikaru, he should take the sparring sessions seriously, yet he often found himself pinned to the pavement, Hikaru on all fours over top of him, the older man smirking triumphantly at yet another victory. Keito felt that he should be ashamed, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad when Hikaru looked so happy, teasing Keito lightheartedly as he helped him to his feet.
No one knew, and Keito was pretty content shaking off the fleeting thoughts of holding Hikaru in his arms, or pressing kisses to Hikaru's lips, to Hikaru's throat, to Hikaru's everything, really. Only late at night, alone in his bed, did Keito ever allow himself to long for the older man, even if it was just a little. He'd remember the rare occasions that they had shared a bed, Keito waking up to find that Hikaru had wrapped himself around Keito in his sleep, the older man's body pressed up against his side. He'd remember their kiss in the rain, the thought of it alone sending shivers down his spine, and he'd curse his own imagination, frowning and curling in on his body. He didn't like to pity himself. He was healthy, he was happy, he could be content with simply supporting Hikaru from the sidelines. He had to be.
And it was in this manner that Keito managed to go four months without an incident. Yet when the end of April hit, it all went to hell. Four months of keeping his emotions, his actions in check, four months of completely avoiding all suspicion, all washed away, ruined when one night Keito woke to Yuto's voice, loud and frantic shouting
"Keito! Wake up, we're being attacked!" There was the sound of yelling, Keito bolting up in bed as he heard a loud crash, a curse falling from his lips. He threw himself down his ladder, and he barely paused to snatch his knife from his bedside table, wearing nothing but his boxers as he tore out of the room after Yuto. He whipped around the corner, nearly tumbling down the stairs, taking in the battle, assessing it as he came down. Chinen was in the far corner, the younger man fighting two men much larger than himself. Takaki had been fighting Shidai Mirai, Yuto having jumped in to help. Daiki and Yamada were back to back, Daiki already with blood smeared down his knuckles and across his face, the older man yelling
"RYOSUKE!" Yamada glanced back, Daiki's frantic tone a warning, and he ducked out of the way of Sato Takeru's blade, whirling to face his opponent. Hikaru was in the middle of the room, facing down a man with a large knife, he already had a cut running down his right shoulder, blood oozing down his back. Keito barreled down the stairs, a brief glance informing him that the rest of his housemates were fighting in the kitchen, Yabu letting out a yell, the older man's nose busted, bloody trails running from both nostrils. Keito found himself joining Takaki and Yuto, and between the three of them Shidai Mirai was unconscious in a matter of seconds. Takaki turned back into the kitchen, and Keito turned the other way, just in time to see Hikaru whip his knife up an attacker's leg, the enemy letting out a yelp of pain, crumpling to the floor. Hikaru turned away, already swept up in another fight, and Keito watched as the man he'd slashed pulled a knife from his pocket, crawling toward Hikaru's unsuspecting form.
Keito made to go and help his leader, but he felt a fist connect with his back, and he stumbled forward, tripping and turning around to see a man glaring down at him, before the fist connected with his side again, knocking the breath out of him. He fought to remain standing, turning his focus to his attacker, and the next time a fist was swung he reached out, grabbing the man's arm with one hand and slicing across it with the other, his blade digging a deep trail into the flesh of his forearm. Keito let the blade change hands, jabbing out at his opponent as the man cursed, jumping backwards. He kicked up, his foot catching the man in the chin, and blood sprayed from the man's mouth, some of it decorating Keito's skin in red.
It only took a few more hits for his attacker to go down, and Keito turned, searching frantically for Hikaru, but he couldn't spot him in the mob of bodies. Instead he saw Ryutaro, his friend taking a fist to the gut, doubling over, and Keito lunged, grabbing the man by the elbow and just pulling, yanking him away from his housemate. Ryu cursed, Keito kicking out at the back of the man's knees, sending him crashing to the floor, and Ryutaro raised a foot, slamming it down on the man's chest, Keito joining in, kicking him a few times before he felt a sharp tug on his ankle, the sudden action making him crash to the floor. He landed hard, his knife's blade cutting into his hand as he tried to catch his fall.
He cursed, rolling onto his back as someone scrambled over him, a heavy weight on his hips. He looked up, trying to adjust his grip on his knife, the handle slick with his own blood, as his new opponent's hand curled into his hair, raising up his head and slamming it into the floor, pain jarring him, his vision going blurry as he slashed out in desperation to gain control, his blade cutting across the underside of his attacker's arm, the grip on his head going slack. Vision swimming, Keito slashed out again, and suddenly the weight was lifted off of his body, Yabu standing over him, one hand outstretched for Keito to take.
Keito reached up, and Yabu grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet, Keito's head still pounding, and Keito stumbled forward into his housemate. Yabu steadied him, and as Keito's eyes began to focus he realized that the man that had pinned him down was now crumpled to the floor at Inoo's feet, a long cut running down the bridge of his nose, blood seeping from some other unseen wound. He coughed out a quick thanks, Yabu and Inoo nodding, before Inoo took his knife, flipping it up in the air and tossing it at the back of an unsuspecting enemy, all three of them throwing themselves back into battle.
Keito eventually did find his way to Hikaru, the older man looking pretty good, all things considered. He had another, small cut on his chest, and some blood matted into his hair, but it looked as if the man on the floor hadn't actually managed to reach him with his knife. But while Keito was looking the older man over, he felt an arm wrap around his throat, and he was pulled to someone's chest, the arm tightening, restricting his breathing. He choked, wrapping his hands around the arm, pulling, trying to loosen the grip on this throat. It was then that Hikaru caught sight of Keito, the older man lunging, slugging Keito's attacker in the face, Keito feeling the grip go slack. Keito turned, and together they took down their opponent, not giving him chance to retaliate.
Once he was down, Keito turned to thank Hikaru, the words already on his lips, when behind them he caught sight of a man raising his hand, leveling a gun, the barrel trained on Hikaru's back. Keito felt as though a bucket of ice had just been dropped into his stomach, fear and desperation running through him. There was no way he could reach the man with the gun in time. There was no way-he threw himself onto Hikaru, barreling into him and slamming him into the floor sharply. As they hit the ground there was the harsh sound of the gun going off, the earsplitting crack drowning out all other sound. Keito gripped Hikaru's body tighter in reaction, and he could feel the older man's heart pounding in his chest, the pulsing a warm reassurance that he was still alive. That he was okay.
Relief washed over Keito in a wave stronger than any he'd ever felt before, and he placed a kiss to the closest bit of Hikaru's skin, somewhere on his neck, the words falling from his lips in a rush
"Oh god. Oh thank god. Shit. I love you." It hadn't even been said quietly, his voice rough with emotion, his arms still wrapped tightly around Hikaru, his body still heavy on top of his leaders. He didn't even realize just how badly he'd just fucked up for a few moments, Hikaru stilling under him, and he pulled himself up so that he was on his hands and knees over his tattooed housemate, glancing up to see that Takaki and Chinen were taking care of the guy with the gun. It was only once the threat had been neutralized, and he'd glanced back down at Hikaru, the older man looking up at him, eyes wide and shocked, that Keito realized what he'd done.
He could feel shame and mortification already beginning to overtake him, but he rolled off of Hikaru, helping him to his feet, not looking at his leader's face, his own heart still pounding in his ears, but for different reasons than before. Once Hikaru was standing, and a quick sweep of Keito's eyes confirmed that he had in fact not been shot, Keito turned away, catching sight of a small hole in the wall where the bullet had bit the concrete, and he felt another wash of relief. No one had gotten hurt. After that it didn't take long for the Wakaba to disperse, leaving Keito and his housemates in a stark, numb silence. Everyone just stood around, catching their breath, taking each other in, before Hikaru said
"Injury status."
"Dai-chan needs stitches!" Yamada declared, Daiki shrugging, not denying the statement, his bare chest covered in a practically solid layer of drying blood. Yuto too had a pretty deep cut on his abdomen, Keito's roommate hobbling, raising his hand to draw attention to himself and saying
"I'm like a four." Takaki shoved a gun into the waistband of his jeans, striding over and beginning to help Yuto, the older man sporting a fat lip and what looked like it was going to be two black eyes. The action put them all in motion, Yabu catching notice of the laceration on Hikaru's back, scolding him for not saying anything when the others had spoken up about their injuries, and soon they had Daiki lain out on the kitchen table, lying along the end, taking up at little space as possible, while Yuto and Hikaru were draped full out along it's length. All three of them were packed tightly on its wooden surface, limbs hanging off the sides and dangling limply.
Yamada and Inoo got to work on Daiki, while Keito and Takaki dedicated themselves to fixing Yuto, Keito feeling Hikaru's eyes on him as he cleaned Yuto's flesh, refusing to look over at the older man. Yabu and Ryutaro had dedicated themselves to fixing Hikaru's injuries, Chinen meanwhile taking washcloths and going around, making all of them clean themselves up, checking for any other wounds that needed tending to. When he saw Keito's hand he tutted, frowning.
"You're going to need some stitches." He told Keito, Takaki glancing over at him in surprise, glancing down at the long cut on the inside of Keito's right palm, his eyebrows raising when he caught sight of it. He nodded in agreement with Chinen. Chinen pursed his lips. "I'll do it. Just let me check over those idiots first." He gestured to Yabu and Ryu, who were bent over Hikaru's bare back. Keito nodded, turning back to Yuto. His housemate was frowning, eyebrows scrunched up in concern, and as Takaki got to work on stitching up his abdomen he gestured for Keito to come closer, up by his head, and he asked
"Keito what happened? You look awful." Keito showed him his hand. Yuto shook his head, dismissing the injury. "Not that. Something else. Your face...you're making the face you make when you're upset about something. You look like you just fucked something up." Keito could feel a blush growing on his cheeks at Yuto's words. He glanced over at Hikaru, the older man in the process of having the gash on his back stitched, Yabu pushing the needle through his skin.
"I-I kinda-"
"Keito, if you're not helping Yuya, come sit over here." Chinen demanded, cutting Keito off and gesturing to where he'd pulled out a chair over by the kitchen counter. Keito abandoned his conversation with Yuto, doing as Chinen asked, and when he sat down he found himself perfectly seated in Hikaru's line of vision from where the older man was lain out on top of the table. He looked pointedly into his lap, Chinen grabbing him by the wrist and hopping up on the counter, putting Keito's hand in his lap. "Don't fucking move." Were Chinen's only words of warning before he stuck Keito with the needle, Keito scrunching up his face at the sudden pain, biting his lip between his teeth and curling his free hand into a fist, trying to keep from yanking away or cursing.
Chinen exhaled sharply, holding onto Keito's wrist a bit tighter pointedly, drawing the thread through and tying a knot. Keito took a deep breath, trying to relax, but as soon as the needle pierced his skin he scrunched up his face again at the pain. When he opened his eyes he found himself looking into Hikaru's and he froze, almost afraid as he looked away. Chinen was swift in his actions to Keito's relief, finishing the last stitch just as Yamada and Inoo stood to help Daiki up the stairs to his bed. Chinen wrapped his hand in gauze, taping it and announcing Keito free to go. Keito scuttled away from the former leader, back to Yuto and Takaki, helping Yuto raise up to a sitting position and wrapping his friend's abdomen in gauze.
Unfortunately, Hikaru's stitches were also done, and as Keito made to help Yuto off of the table, the Kumi-cho got to his feet, getting Keito's attention with a hand on his shoulder. Knowing he couldn't get out of it, and feeling a little sick, Keito turned to Hikaru. The older man's expression was unreadable, and he said quietly
"Keito, we need to talk. In my office." He gestured to Yuto, turning to Yabu. "Could you?" He asked, the older man nodding at once. He turned his attention back to Keito, gesturing pointedly to his office door, and Keito nodded, dread coursing through his veins thick and fast as he walked with Hikaru, opening the door for the leader and letting him in first, before going in himself, and shutting the door behind him.
Next