Do Scars Fade: a Heisei Kumi Fanfic (9/18)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Keito-centric, with some side Ariyama and Chiitaro
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence
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
It was easy for Keito to push the upcoming anniversary from his mind. His new vigorous exercise routine had become his main focus, and it required all of his energy. He spent every day from morning to night working on building up his muscle, training his body back into shape, and it was working. He could see himself returning to his figure before Shoon's passing; his figure from before he'd stopped eating. His arms were getting bigger, his stomach gaining a thick layer of muscle, his ribs hidden under his pectorals. There was just more. He had more body to sustain, and because of it his appetite increased immensely, much to Yuto's delight. It took his stomach a few days to adjust to the new food intake, but soon he was able to eat four full meals a day without any trouble.
He found that regaining muscle he'd lost was easier than building it up from scratch, and it helped that he had so many willing participants to help with sparing practice. Literally everyone worked with him in the weeks following Johnny's memorial event. Some days they'd even just do consecutive fighting to build up his stamina. Keito would be locked in a constant battle, while his housemates would tap out once they wanted a break, someone fresh taking their place. Those days were the most exhausting, but it was fun to get everyone involved. It was like a game for them-and through it was at Keito's expense-he liked having all ten of them together. And so like that weeks went by, until one day during his lunch break Yabu announced
"I need to borrow Keito for a bit." Keito blinked up at the older man in surprise. Yamada frowned.
"We were just about to get back out there. It was Dai-chan's turn next." Yabu shook his head.
"Sorry. He needs to come with me to the flower shop." There was a heavy silence as those words sank in, Yamada and Daiki both nodding, suddenly a lot more sullen. Keito got to his feet, his appetite gone, and he murmured
"Just let me shower first." Yabu nodded, and Keito slipped up stairs, quickly going through the motions, slipping on jeans and a t-shirt, and with a quiet nod of approval from Yabu the two of them stepped outside. The sky was overcast, dark and gray, and the smell of rain was in the air. Yabu glanced up at it, his brow furrowed.
"Let's hope it doesn't rain. I don't have an umbrella." Keito nodded, following Yabu, about one pace behind the older man. He'd forgotten just how close Shoon's death day was-barely a week off-but at Yabu's words the realization had slammed into him full force, and he felt numb. It couldn't have been almost a year already. It hadn't felt like a full year. A year since he'd last seen Shoon's face. Since he'd held his hand. It was strange to think about, and it manifested as an ache in his chest. "Keito. Hey, Keito!" He jolted in surprise, Yabu's voice wrenching him from his thoughts. "You listening to me?" The tall man asked, Keito feeling embarrassed as he shook his head.
"I said you're just placing the order today. We'll have them have the flowers ready on the sixth, and the limo driver will pick them up before meeting us, so they'll be waiting for you. Kumi-cho and I just thought maybe you should pick the bouquet." Keito nodded as the flower shop came into view, and Yabu shoved his hands into his pockets, letting Keito go in first. The place was bright, colorful, and the girl behind the counter was cheerful, smiling and greeting them. Keito was overwhelmed for a moment by all of it, and he just stood there, taking all of the plants in. He had to pick the flowers he wanted to bring to Shoon's grave...he didn't know how to begin getting through this process, emotionally or physically.
"Can I help you?" The girl behind the counter asked, and Keito turned to Yabu, confused as to the process he needed to go through. Yabu took pity on him, telling the girl
"We've got a grave visit next week that we'd like to place an order for." She nodded, Yabu turning to Keito and saying
"Just pick some that you like. They can make it look pretty. I'll take care of the logistics." Keito nodded, Yabu turning his attention back to the girl at the counter, while Keito began wandering the shop. There were more types of flowers in that small space than Keito had ever seen in his life, and he tried to focus less on the fact that they would be going on Shoon's grave, and more on just the simple elegance of the blooms, trying to find something that caught his eye. It didn't take more than a few minutes, a vase of large orange flowers with long curling petals, and spots enrapturing him. He stood there, admiring them for a few moments, before Yabu came back with the store worker, the older man noticing the flowers immediately.
"These?" He asked, and Keito nodded. The girl nodded in understanding, saying
"Tiger lillies are some of my favorites too. What will you be pairing them with?" Ketio turned, looking frantically around at the other flowers. He was supposed to have picked more than one?
"Um...roses." He said. Roses were for people that you loved, right? His mother had told him that once, when he was a child. She nodded.
"Do you have any specific color in mind?" She asked, and Keito shrugged, at a loss. She plucked one of the lilies from it's vase, carrying it over to the left wall, which-Keito realized belatedly-was covered in roses of practically every color.
"White? Or...um...blue?" He said, and she nodded, pulling both colors out and placing them all together, for Keito to see. He nodded, approving the grouping, and she smiled.
"Okay! We'll have these ready on Wednesday morning for you!" Keito nodded, thanking the girl, and with a wave Yabu whisked him back out of the shop. They didn't really talk on the way back home, and once they'd arrived they parted ways, Keito finding himself alone, with free time for the first time in days. But he felt rather melancholy, the trip to the flower store leaving him more upset than he'd been in weeks. The whole process had been depressing, and there was this looming dread, this sense of inevitability that hung over him and left a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He curled up on the couch, no specific train of thought running through his mind, and it felt like regressing. Like hopelessness, and emptiness. He couldn't get up the will to eat much that night at dinner.
The way he felt must have shown on his face, or in his actions, because after the meal was over he felt someone take his hand, and he looked down at their intertwined fingers in surprise, recognizing the hand before it's owner spoke.
"C'mon Keito." Hikaru said, not even giving him a chance to put on his shoes before dragging him out into the alley that ran in front of their home. By this point night had fallen, the stars covered by thick, saturated storm clouds, the only light that of the street lamp. Hikaru sat him down under that light, the older man sitting next to him, his knees drawn up, arms resting comfortably on them, and Keito just sat in silence for a few moments, waiting, until Hikaru said "What's wrong? Talk to me." He paused, and Keito tried to think of an acceptable way to phrase what he was feeling, or at least some excuse for his behavior that would be plausible. He didn't want Hikaru to be disappointed in him. He knew he'd been doing much better recently, and he didn't want to go back to the way he'd been before. But it took him too long to try and figure something out, and Hikaru asked "Did something happen?"
"No. Nothing really happened." He paused, folding his hands in his lap. "Yabu took me to pick out flowers for Shoon's grave visit." He admitted, pursing his lips anxiously and glancing sideways at Hikaru. The older man was staring at him, eyes concerned, a small, sad smile on his lips. Feeling self conscious, Keito looked down at his grimy bare feet, and a raindrop fell from the sky, landing on his knee, his jeans absorbing the water immediately. Hikaru just sat there by his side, leaning in a bit, and for a few moments they sat like that in silence. But then suddenly the older man pulled himself to his feet, extending his tattooed arm and offering Keito a hand, pulling him to his feet. Bewildered, Keito stood, and once they were facing each other, Hikaru said
"Hit me." Keito blinked at him in surprise. What? "You might feel better if you hit something." Hikaru explained. Keito didn't quite understand.
"You mean, like sparing?" He asked. Hikaru shook his head.
"No. When we spar you hold back. I don't want you to hold back. I want you to let everything you're feeling out. Don't worry about me; I can take it. Just hit me." It was sprinkling now, rain starting to fall, and they'd stepped to the edge of the beam of light given off by the street lamp, and although his face was cast partially in shadow, Hikaru's eyes were serious.
"I don't want to hurt you." Keito protested, and Hikaru snorted, pulling his white v-neck up over his shoulders and tossing it to the pavement.
"You won't. C'mon, Keito. Hit me." Tentatively Keito took a step forward, curling his right hand into a fist and knocking it into Hikaru's bare chest. Hikaru just stood there, looking at Keito's fist, before saying "Harder." Keito took a deep breath, pulling his arm back and hitting Hikaru again, with more force. But Hikaru didn't move, just saying "C'mon Keito. Hit me. Really hit me." He paused, wrapping one hand around Keito's fist. "Let go." He said quietly, voice just barely audible over the now steady pitter patter of the raindrops. Keito felt himself choking up, and he pulled his fist back again, this time slamming it roughly into Hikaru's chest. Hikaru stumbled back a few steps, and he took a big gulping inhale, Keito letting his hand uncurl, worried that he'd gone too far for a moment. But then Hikaru widened his stance, and motioned for Keito to come closer, and he said
"Again, come on." And so Keito did. He lunged at Hikaru, one fist connecting harshly with Hikaru's left shoulder, while the other the older man took to his gut. As he threw his fists, he felt all of his frustrations with himself, with the cruel world, rising up in him, all of his carefully tucked away helplessness and anger bubbling to the surface, and the more he let himself feel those things, the more he gave in, hitting harder and harder. Hikaru would nod on occasion, motion for Keito to keep going, and he took the punches well, recovering quickly and egging Keito on. Keito didn't know when he'd started crying, but tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, mingling with the rain as it fell. The clouds had opened up, rain falling thick and fast now, and they were both completely drenched, their hair plastered to their faces, their bodies slick with it, a chill in the air.
Keito hit Hikaru until he was exhausted. Until he was weak and drained and trembling, his emotions having run their course. It was then that he finally unfurled his fists, using one shaking hand to pull his sopping hair from his eyes, and he looked over Hikaru's body, an apology waiting in the wings on his lips, Keito hoping Hikaru wasn't hurt. Or at least not too badly. But he'd barely had time to catch his breath before Hikaru was there, one hand cupping Keito's face as he leaned in, pressing their lips together. Hikaru kissed him with intensity, passion in the pressure of his lips as they slid against Keito's own. Hikaru wound one arm around Keito's hips, pulling him close, their chests pressed up against each other, the only thing separating them the wet fabric of Keito's clinging t-shirt. The kiss was strong, long, and it took Keito's breath away, Keito having to gulp for air once Hikaru pulled back. Keito was numb with shock, his brain still trying to catch up with what had just happened.
Hikaru meanwhile was just standing there, his chest heaving, and he pulled his hair away from his face as thunder cracked, the booming sound resounding across the sky. They stood there in silence for a few moments, facing each other in the pouring rain, before Hikaru let out a low curse, hanging his head and turning away, the older man trudging up the stairs and going back inside, leaving his shirt in a sopping wad in the alley. After a few moments Keito followed behind him, getting out of the rain, and once he was inside he found himself alone, a wet trail leading to Hikaru's living quarters. Not sure what to do, shivering and cold, Keito dragged himself up the stairs, throwing himself into a hot shower as he watched the bruises form on his knuckles, Hikaru's kiss playing on repeat in his mind, his lips still tingling with the ghost of it.
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