Astray

It was tiring, As in really tiring. The kind of stuff that wears your patience so thin that you can see Mount Fuji through it without even needing to squint. And like always, he had two nitwits to thank for it. It was an old argument – it had happened first when Tamao was told of his medical condition, only to gradually worsen since Genji entered Suzuran. He had thought they would calm down after his successful surgery, but no. They were acting like blasted mother hens and it was driving him out of his wits. And they never seem to finish, once they started. Usually, he was enough to tell them off, though sometimes he needed Tokaji and Tsutsumo’s help to drag Tamao away while Izaki nothing short of hung himself from Genji to prevent him from moving. Maybe he should just ask Makise to hit these two on the head – but the thought made him wince and anyway, Tamao’s head was just so hard Makise would be the one needed to get his hand checked. Right now, he felt like he was staring at two pitbulls fighting over a bone. And he just compared himself to a bone. How better can it get? Turning his attention to the two resident idiots having their yelling match – it was always strange how someone as short as Tamao could make just so much noise. Not that he would ever tell him that. And they kept on screaming at each other, not minding the white heat that was beating down the concrete roof. It was a wonder they did not fall flat on their face already. But again, fainting would be taken as a proof of weakness, and they were way too stubborn to even think about it. No sir.

“Shut up.” Nope, not listening to him and he sure as Hell was not going to yell as well. Not that he was listening to the particulars of their dispute anyway. Actually, he heard a lot that was not being said. One thing was that they were both scared for him – touching really but he could do without – and that they did not want him to risk his life. Oh, and Tamao cursing Genji’s hot-headed statement about being the king of Suzuran. To the face of Housen. That would have been priceless, had this Taiga man been there – an impression shared by Tamao, as these two had a pending fight. Though he’d had it. If they were going to be absolute idiots about it, so be it but he’ll be fucked if he stoop to their level and stay there for them to finish. He was not risking a sunstroke because of them. Never ever. He’d risk a headbutt. Probably. He was still uneasy about it though – but if Genji indeed goes against Housen, he would do what he can. No matter the factions in the school, Genji was his friend. Though he would be hard pressed to do so without Tamao. He did not want to lose him – and his friendship – either.

Now was not the time to go all soft on them though. He was so thoroughly fed up with them it was a miracle he has not blown a fuse already.

“Fine kiddos, I'll be downstairs. You can get down too, whenever you decide to act like the grown-ups you don't want to be.” Off he went, ignoring the sudden silence his outburst created. If only they could be this quiet on a regular basis... His head would definitely not hurt that badly.

Unbeknownst to Tokio, however, the argument went on. Even the crows avoided the rooftop!

Takiya was the first to recover. “You made him leave, dumbass!”

“Me? Shut your trap for one sec! It's not like we've settled this anyway.” Serizawa was not upset, or even pissed of. It was more like a righteous anger that was boiling up and threatened to just overflow – and therefore be expressed through a mighty kick in the face. People never quite think about it but that could hurt like a bitch. That he could not bring himself to show Tokio that he cared – and that he knew what was going on exactly – was secondary. Just as it was part of his 'oblivious-happy-go-lucky' persona. He really was not that blind. Sighing, he slumped to the ground. Gone were the fluid moves of fighting, gone was the strength and resilience, he was a knot of weariness. All he could do was staring up at Takiya and will him not to say anything. He briefly wondered what would have happened, had he defeated this cocky 'little' bastard. And what if Tokio had not made it? He shook his head. Who the heck was he kidding? Of course Tokio would have made it. Tokio was the one who taught him about resilience – he had always been stubborn, but it was different now. He had something to fight for. Even if he was the King of Beasts, he was not actually so conceited to believe he could have made it on his own.

Damnit, why was he even thinking about that? Takiya was no threat to him. Granted, he beat him. But it took a lot more for him to think of Takiya as a threat to him. Rindaman was no threat. He glanced at his fellow and winced. Okay, he was a killer when it came down to fighting, but even so, they were pretty much evenly matched. Tokio was his, anyway! This thought startled him, and it must have shown because Takiya was staring back at him now, looking slightly puzzled. He had always worn his emotions on his sleeve and while it was a damn problem when playing mahjong, he never thought of it as a real constraint. Up until now. Because Takiya would be able to read it. Some other seniors could already, though no one would read the entire thing. Except Tokio, again. It all came down to it. Tokio was an exception in his life, as much as it had been a constant through time. He just hoped he would never have to say it aloud, that would be damn embarrassing and anyway, with Housen threatening to grind their bones on the concrete, he could not afford any weakness. Not that it was quite a weakness and- damn him, he did it again! Fact was, he could not let Tokio fight, if it ever come down to this. He was not too keen on going to war again, not so soon. Nah, he will just let Takiya do his thing. Ultimately, it will not be he, Serizawa Tamao, who will decide whether his men will go or not. It was a feud that concerned the whole of Suzuran – and then, the concept of factions would be meaningless. Except to people like Tokaji and Izaki. These two had been absolute pain in the ass since they first met and last year's developments only made it worse. If he were entirely honest with himself, he knew that Tokio will fight anyway, and that even he will not be able to prevent it.

“Why don't you stop him?” Serizawa froze did he speak aloud? Crap, he must be getting old. He had to get his shit together though, because he really could not afford letting Takiya, out of all people, know. Maybe he got too many hits on the head? The thought made him cringe inwardly. Or maybe he did not say anything, considering the way in which Genji was staring at him. Oh right, he must be expecting an answer... While he patted himself on the back for having managed to actually not blurt anything out, the question still hung in the air.

“He would listen to you if you asked him not to fight.” He would never listen to me anyway. The last part went unsaid but it was still there. Not that Takiya would ever acknowledge that part. Not if he had a say in the matter. Serizawa did not need to be an empath of sorts to know it and it made himself feel comparatively better, to see that he was still considered the closest to Tokio, even by a rival... er, former classmate. Still, he let out a derisive snort.

“Are you shitting me? You are the one who tells him. Every single damn time!” He rose to his feet, facing Takiya. He took a deep breath, as it would be absolutely no use yelling against him yet again. He was too stubborn. It was a fact. “I don't have it in me to fight Tokio on it. He trusts me to have his back. If I start fighting him now, I'd be letting him down and betray that trust.”

“That'd not be betraying if it saves him.” And with that, Takiya moved back towards the door, leaving Serizawa to his own thoughts.

Genji did not get it – and despite the fact that he never say so much, he noticed stuff. And he knew that look on Serizawa's face. He was pretty sure now that he had got the same the day he had seen Izaki's beaten form. Why then would Serizawa refuse to budge? Bloody hell, Tokio's life was at stake! He survived the operation, and against all odds too, but what if he got hit? Like, repeatedly hit? It was no secret Tokio had got surgery. And if there was one thing he had learned at Suzuran was that people played fair so long it suited them. The Housen guys would play dirty as soon as wind would start to blow in the wrong direction. He shook his head – Serizawa would never move into that shit, not if he has a choice not. So they were relatively safe. Again, he could understand why. It was common knowledge that Tokio alone kept Serizawa grounded. He had seen it when they fought, when Tokio was undergoing surgery. What had driven Serizawa was stronger – he was not laughing anymore – not when they were facing each other. The stakes had been much higher. His strength, it came down to the helpless rage at not having any grasp on what was happening to their friend. The only thing any of them had controlled was the force behind the blows. Losing had not been an option then, and it wasn't now, either. Losing the fight. Losing Tokio. And even though his ego rebelled against it, Genji knew it. Tokio needed Serizawa – not him. As he went down the torn down stairs, he crossed paths with Tokaji. Who looked way too smug not to be suspicious. Genji sighed. Sure thing the man had found a way to annoy the living daylight out of Izaki. Not complicated, considering his short-temper, but still. True to form, he found his second-in-command sitting in front of a mahjong board, glaring at it as though it personally offended him. Which it might as well have. Even the Mikami brothers avoided him and just waited outside. For them to get out of anyone's way, it must be bad. Again, Izaki's patience is not known to be the best where Tokaji was concerned. Actually, it only got worse and worse, to the point that some of the second years were taking bets as to who would snap first.

For an instant, the vision of Izaki's broken body dangling from that rope made Genji wince. He recovered just when his friend looked up, a scowl plastered on his face. Maybe, just maybe, Izaki was as bad at mahjong as Serizawa, though he doubted it.

“You look like shit.”

Genji snorted. “You know what you're talking about, heh?'

Izaki merely shrugged, leaning back on his seat, and Genji briefly wondered who else would get away with it so easily. Or at least, without the promise of retribution.

“You're right though. I do.” Izaki began picking up the pieces, not sparing him a second glance. “This thing with Tsukawa is really blowing outta proportions, just so you know.” He had this way to say that kind of stuff in such a deadpan way, it prevented Genji from retaliating.

Instead, he plopped on the seat facing his friend. More like 'sprawled by, arms dangling from the backrest, head thrown back.' “How so?” He did his best to act unconcerned but Izaki gave him the look. The one look that meant that whoever this look was directed to better cut the crap and scram. Before a fist landed in their jaw. In the best of cases. Sure he could beat Izaki, but fighting among themselves was the last thing he wanted.

“Would take a blind man not to see. You are just pining over the guy. No better than Serizawa.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Look, we are going against Housen. Of course, Serizawa's not keen on going all that much. Not that he actually doesn't want to fight them but if you go, Tsukawa's gonna fight as well.” He paused and, seeing that Genji was ready to protest, cut him short: “Whether you like it or not.”

Perhaps, just perhaps, Izaki was right. But again...

“If he dies... what if he actually dies?” He was not freaking out, nope, though it came out a bit weird, considering that he was not one to voice his emotions normally. And this, this was too close to home for comfort and he did not want a repeat of last semester. He knew that Izaki was still watching him, possibly gauging his reaction – the man was manipulative enough to be able to use that kind of info when needed. Anyway, no reason to freak out. Nope.

Instead, it was Izaki who lost his cool. “Damnit all to hell! You're even more pigheaded than that bastard Tokaji!” He rarely shouted at anyone but there, that was close enough. And it stung. Comparing anyone to Tokaji was potentially one of the worst insults in Izaki's book. Genji thus took it as such. He did not say anything though, just letting his friend calm down.

“Look, I'm sorry to be the one breaking it to you but Tatsukawa wants to fight. He has to fight. And this has nothing to do with you, or Serizawa himself for that matter.”

Genji should not even be remotely surprised at this. If there was something he can give to Izaki, it's how perceptive he was when it came to people. Probably the only really good analyst in GPS too. But still, he could not take what he said for granted:

“The surgery...”

“He lived through it. Do you really think he would have even bothered trying something like that if he had not been certain, deep down, that he would come out to be Serizawa's second afterwards?”

Come to think of it, it made sense. Maybe Tokio decided that he and Serizawa would make it through the day, together. Sadly, Izaki was not finished.

“He's too wise to try his luck for nothing, you know it and it fucking piss you off.”

“Man... you sure you okay? You never yap that much.” Okay, maybe that was mean. And why was it pissing him off, indeed? Part of him knew it, apparently: he was pissed because it took Izaki spelling it out for him. What's more, he also reminded Genji how powerless he was when it came to people. To know that he would always be second to Serizawa for Tokio was also a bit harsh, though expected. But it still stung. And it bothered him – something else bothered him but he knew not what.

When he first arrived, he was ready to hate Serizawa, simply because he was easier. Indifference was key, but hostility is easier to deal with than potential friendship he knew it. He had come to crush him, after all. At first, he had resented him. Being so carefree – he had seen him fight, and it bothered him to no end that someone like that would just act like a kicked puppy for some mahjong stones. Among other things. However, he soon relaized how much he cared for Tokio. When he had been ready to maul his friend at the bar, when he though Serizawa was responsible for Izaki's agression – it was Serizawa who stopped him. It could have been simply to avoid a fight. Or it could have been because he somehow knew how bad Tokio's condition was and did not want to make it worse. He'd rather bet on the later.

Izaki stared back at Takiya, wondering what was going on in that head of his. He leaned back in his chair, and simply waited. There was a lot of things he should tell him about. Of Kirishima's freshmen refusal to take part – albeit understandably: it was not their war. Of the doubts suddenly pervading GPS since it became clear that Serizawa was stepping aside. Suzuran was not united, by far, and he reckoned that it was indeed more divided than when he first stepped in. And it was getting worse and worse. He did not tell Genji that – what use could it be? Coming from anyone else, Takiya's comment would have gained the speaker a sore jaw. But he was right, if only in part, and someone had to step up and say it. It still made him wince, because he hated to do that. He did not like how Genji looked when he was speaking... from over-confident to almost lost. The kind of shift that was just as unnatural as him giving up. He shrugged the thought away. Anyway, it was not only because of that. Genji had proclaimed himself Head of Suzuran, dragging the entire school with him. It made things worse, and there was little to be done. One thing to do was to prevent anyone from thinking of Genji as weaker than before. The only reason why he tolerated those brief moments of doubts was because he did not have to follow Genji at first. He had chosen to, and so far, he hadn't regretted it. What's more, it was quite entertaining to see just how much he failed at darts.

He closed his eyes for an instant, ever aware of Genji's dark gaze fixated upon him. Not that it prevented him from going on his merry trip down memory lane. He still saw him that day. The day he showed him that he was not Serizawa. That he was not Tokio. Or Rindaman. He did not play fair. Well, sometimes he did, but what was the point of a wake-up call otherwise?Even so, Genji had not backed down. He had fought until he could not move anymore. Izaki grimaced when he recalled how that monster of a man had fallen against him. How he had tried to clutch onto him to avoid falling face-down on the concrete. The fleeting grasp on his side and leg. His heart had leaped in his mouth. Partly out of fear – irrational, and thus, paralyzing – that Genji did it so he could end him. Partly because of the proximity. Shun never let anyone so close to him, except in a fight. That touch, however involuntary, had scalded him and at the time he had been rather worried. He shook his head. He was thinking too much, again. Now was not the time.

“Izaki?”

“Hmm?”

“What're you not telling me?”

“D'you want a list? Fine, we're in a grand mess right now, and there's no easy fixing it. This thing with Housen has to be dealt with, and fast.” Damn, how reasonable he sounded. How clever. How not like him. He heard Genji move forward.

“What is it that you are not telling me that I don't know about?”

This, of all things, caught him off-guard. He did not expect this. Nor did he expect Genji to be the cause. His mind froze. It was only after a few seconds that he managed to spit a half-hearted 'none of your biz'. Which was normally not the way to go with his friend. But really, what could he say? It was not like he could stare Genji in the eye and tell him that his fretting over Tokio had not gone unnoticed. And that even Makise, of all people, would notice. Fuck, even the first-years – some of them at least, and not the smartest of the bunch – asked what was wrong with Takiya.

It was not until Genji left that Izaki managed to relax, albeit minutely. The storm had passed, for now. He sighed – there it went, all for nothing. And the Housen/Suzuran problem was far from over.

Damn him. Damn it all to hell. He let his head fall back against the wall. Stupid Takiya. Stupid Serizawa. Stupid Tsukawa. Stupid him. As if he did not have enough shit to deal with. He should stop caring. But then, since when did he care about anything? Of course, he had often been accused to lack ambition, and not least because he always had refused to confront Serizawa. Truth is, he was content to follow whoever he wanted, putting his own strength on the line for them and if possible, acting in a covert way. He was not blind or stupid either – and only blind fools would even think of confronting Serizawa Tamao head on. That being said, he did not have a problem following Genji – it was as Makise said: it could not be explained with words. Something just compelled him to follow, if only to know how far he'd go. There had been no actual ties though. Not until later. When he had found himself beaten to a pulp by Tokaji's monkeys, the first thing he remembered was that Genji was the one who had rushed to him. He had no idea why, at the time, and he still dared not question it. He wondered if Genji had not helped him then simply because he did so before. He understood, if only in part, how Genji must have felt when he had cornered him. Unlike Tokaji though, he had not attacked Genji to make a point, just to humiliate him. That Genji seemed so determined to give Serizawa a piece of his mind at the time just ensured his loyalty even further. Though right now, he mostly deemed Genji worthy of some mighty kick in the ass. If he were totally honest, he would have to admit that this particular honour was not exclusive. Man, he was not supposed to be so introspective! Oh well, if only he ever had any kind of doubt, now he was certain where he belonged. To Genji's side. Never mind those twats calling him Takiya's underdog. He had nothing to prove to anyone, and they still had Housen's ass to kick into next year.

Tokio was lying on his bed, contemplating the rather not interesting ceiling. He knew Serizawa would not go against Housen. Not because he did not want to. But he knew for a fact that whatever unfinished business his friend had with them, he still came first. And that was unnerving. It made him feel like a child, as though he was unable to make his own decisions. As though he did not know what was good for himself. He was not sure that Serizawa himself was aware of his stupidly protective he sounded. He would not even dare to hope. Bbefore they met, Tokio was alone. Genji had gone already after all. He went to Suzuran because he could. Because whatever he did, his parents did not care. Or rather, that they would be really pissed for a time and then let it go. Actually, they still haven't really got over the fact he was at Suzuran but somehow, they never commented on it ever again after an argument when in first year. When he first got at Suzuran, it had been weird. Meeting Serizawa had been surprisingly simple. He had tried to kick his ass, if only to prove to himself that he could do it. He really tried- And failed, though he had always made sure to give back what was punched into him, and then some. It had been quite a lot, if he may say so. Their friendship had been something even easier to put into place. It was still easy to keep and it was comforting that despite their stereotypical 'prince-and-pauper' situation, they were equals. He was Tamao's equal, and this made his chest fill with something akin to joy. Of course, Tamao kept teasing him, and of course, the guy owed money to virtually everyone. It did not matter because, in the end, he trusted Tamao with his very life. He knew his friend trusted him every bit as much. He could rely on Tamao – even if he had been acting like some frantic mother hen as of late. For some reason, no one else seemed to notice. At least he hoped so. Part of Tamao's attitude showed in the way he fought with Genji. Sometimes, he had the rather unpleasant impression of being some sort of prize in a contest. He swore under his breath. Gripping his hair in his hands, he pulled as hard as he could. What the fuck was going on? Fuck it. He really wanted to wail. Except that he was never given the opportunity to do so, especially if he wanted to avoid yet another drama at home. Whatever home was. He thought about his options: he had to convince Tamao that he could fight. Wait, that was only one option, where the hell did the others go? Oh yes, and when he was done convincing Tamao – he had to keep faith, because really, that won't be a piece of cake – he would have to convince Genji. Both were pigheaded idiots and the worse mules he ever had the dubious pleasure to know. And he worried about them too, why didn't they understood that? Really, it was not that hard, was it? Of course, they were strong, and Tamao's skull may even resist a drill. When he had seen in what sorry state they ended when he was at the hospital, he wondered just how far it could have gone. Morons never know when to stop.

Damn, he could not sleep. Better go and find Tamao, since obviously he would not be getting any kind of sleep today. It's not like his parents would even bother anyway. He dressed and went through the empty house without a sound. Once outside, began the eternal 'Tamao-search'. For once, it was not too hard, as he nearly ran into him.

“You're stalking me?” It was stupid but in his surprise, it was the only thing he could even blurt out.

“Nah, m'footsteps carried me here and I'm too sodding drunk to do a damn thing 'bout it.”

And he actually looked like it. It made Tokio grin despite himself. He should be pissed, probably. It was stupid. Seeing Tamao sway, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders to avoid him falling flat on his face. After the tremendous heat of the day, the cool night air was welcome. So was the solid – if unsteady – weight of Tamao against him. An arm snaked around his waist, catching onto him. It caught him off-guard. Well, he was kind of used to Tamao being utterly oblivious of the concept of personal space but at this moment, it felt different. He needed to shake himself, really, he was starting to sound like some schoolgirl. It was just Tamao for goodness' sake! They walked slowly, until they reached a park bench and plopped onto it.

“So, Tokio. Were you looking for me?”

Damn him for sounding sober – and for being clever. People often dubbed Tamao an air-head because of the carefree demeanour. It was a lie. And right now, he really wished it weren't. “I couldn't sleep.” Damn, that sounded weird, even in his head it would have, and now, it's hanging out in the open. And the fact that he was letting his head rest on Tamao's shoulder belied his words.

“Grand.”

They stayed like that for a while, without saying a word. Tokio sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth spreading from his friend's skin. He still had their arms wrapped around each other. It should have been strange.

“You know, no matter what you do or say, I won't let you fight them Housen guys.” Again, Tokio inwardly cursed Tamao – bastard knew him too well.

“You know me well.” He sounded bitter. Shit. He hoped Tamao would not notice. He actually did not want to hurt him by saying stuff like that. Not now at least.

“Hey, that's what you get when you kick someone's ass.”

“Asshole.”

“Tah.” Tamao's low chuckle turned into a rumble that he could feel, physically so. It made him feel so much better. Complete.

“You know I need it, Tamao.”

“Yes. But I... I mean, you can't risk your life.”

The slip did not escape his notice but as usual, Tokio tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the way it made him feel, deep down, to know that Tamao cared so much about him. Although, Serizawa was totally off his rocker because of the booze so probably it was easier to dismiss.

“I am not risking my life. Geez, I know what I risk but... if I ever told you to stop fighting just because I am afraid you'd die... would you stop?” It was a rhatorical question. He was not expecting an answer because they both knew it anyway. And the pause that followed this statement showed that Tamao was actually thinking it over.

“I don't know for sure. I mean, I would certainly tell you what you just told me. But I... Do you really want me to stop?”

Shit, now Tamao was looking him straight in the eye, and Tokio saw something he never wished to see there. Worry. It forced him to consider his words carefully. He had not expected to have to answer it. “Sometimes. When I saw you after that fight with Genji. I though about it... I really did. If I lose you... I don't know what I'd do.” Oh gods, it sounded so absolutely cheesy, someone, shoot him! He hung his head in shame – he had no clue how Tamao would take it but he just had to hope he would not read too much into it. He was so caught in his thoughts that he did not notice Tamao looking at him insistently. What he noticed, however, was the strengthening of Serizawa's grip on him. Probably he should have shut up.

“You won't lose me.” It was said so softly that for a moment, Tokio prayed he had not heard correctly and that Tamao was just talking through a drunken stupor and not knowing what was actually going on. But when Tamao spoke again, he knew he had heard right.

“You won't lose me. Except if you refuse to see me.” Tamao paused at this. Not really knowing where to go from here. He smiled at Tokio, that kind of face-splitting smile he reserved for him. “You are stubborn enough not to take 'no' for an answer anyway.” Except they both knew that Tokio was not just anyone to him. More like 'everything'. The knowledge sent a jolt through Tamao's ribcage. He knew that if Tokio left him, he'd be no better than most of Housen's recruits – or Suzuran's for that matter: fighting not because they want to but because they know no better. Damnit, he just wanted to run, far away. Except he did not have the will to run away from Tokio. But he had to run – possibly never to return. He did not know how to deal with it. With these... whatever the hell it was... feelings? If only it would stop. There was nothing he could really do about it. It was not as though it was new to him. Contrary to popular belief, he was not clueless – not Takiya-clueless, at the very least. He had known for quite a long time how much Tokio meant to him. Not that he could even think about disclosing that particular bit of information. He could barely wrap his mind around it, there was no way anyone else would know. Not Tokio. Not even him. Tokio would be targeted all the more and – this he could barely formulate even in the secrecy of his own mind – he had no guarantee that Tokio would accept it. Damn, it was hard enough to pinpoint what he felt, deep down. For all he knew, Tokio could make a run for it – in the best of cases. Or he could just decide to bash his skull in. And he knew that he was way too afraid of hurting Tokio to even retaliate. Anyway, he must be truly off his ass to even start babble about it – even in the silence of his thoughts. And, if he was so wasted, what could it hurt? Maybe, he could blame the alcohol – oh, that was a lame excuse alright, one that not even Tokaji would dare to use. Without really thinking, he took advantage of Tokio looking at him to lean in until their brows touched. His heart rate was acting as though he was sprinting down a highway, trying to win over a running car. Damnit. It was not supposed to – no, it was a test. Just to see, if Tokio resisted the closeness. Yes, that was all that remained of his sanity.

Tamao had no clue whatsoever how it changed... who moved – it had to be him, right? Moving to the side – momentum leading their nose to bump. All he could see was Tokio's dark eyes looking at him – staring past his eyes and roving over his inner thoughts. He was paralyzed. Pinned down like some kind of insect on a board and it was scaring him. His heart was tugging at strings attached to his stomach and there was no way he was not sick. No way... It was just a brush – barely felt brush of lips. He could feel Tokio's slow breathing on his face – did anything faze the guy any more? He should do something, move backward or stumble or – instead he moved forward. He had to know – all of a sudden, the irrational fear of losing his friend was weaker than this unbidden need to know for sure. He accentuated the pressure, barely aware of what he was doing before he noticed his fingers were clutching at cool fabric. He registered the shift, Tokio's move towards him, the disappearance of those black eyes. And the hand in his hair. Yes, he would blame the alcohol. He did not care. Tokio was not leaving. Growing bolder, he deepened the kiss. Not yet daring to go any further. It was a strange thought that burst into his head – Tokio should be the one making the next move, if there is to be another one. And he froze, the instant he felt Tokio's lips move under his, opening slowly – the faint touch of a tongue on his lips. His heart threatened to burst out of his ribcage, rushing madly like a trapped animal. Heat coiled in his belly – it startled him and one instant, he nearly pushed back as far as he could. What he did not expect was how strong Tokio's grip was. He simply could not back away. Rational thoughts simply disappeared – maybe it would be only once, and then, he was not one to have any regrets. When Tokio pushed against him, he simply did not have the will to refuse whatever was asked of him. He parted his lips – damn, he knew how it's supposed to go. But it was Tokio. Not anyone... and because it was him, he felt like some clueless boy again. Damn him. All of a sudden, he was brought back to reality – he let Tokio deepen the kiss, explore his mouth and he let him. At length, he tried to gain control of the kiss, but it was near impossible. Soon, it was a messy tangle of tongues and clash of teeth. He needed more – more of him. Exploring every bit of Tokio's mouth, tasting him. It pulled strings across his heart, everything was connected. Air was lacking, he could not be bothered. Heat surged through him, and he could feel it radiating from Tokio – under the thin fabric of his shirt, the furnace of his mouth.

Suddenly, as suddenly as it started, it ended. They were still very close, Tamao could feel Tokio's breath on his mouth. The air was moist, still tingling from some kind of electricity that hung around them. He felt a pinch, some kind of sense of loss – though he was not sure who moved away. As he gathered his bearings, he froze – once again. It was too much. Too soon – too soon after what exactly, he had no idea but he felt like there was a rush. A rush that should not be there. Or maybe this sense of urgency just sprang to life because of this fear that Tokio would flee. It was absolutely stupid but again, he was entitled to be stupid. He had half-expected Tokio to reject him, after all. And now, for all the apprehension, he did not dare to budge one inch. Warmth radiated from Tokio, the hand in his hair still compelling him to just lean into the touch. Wait, he was actually leaning in. His mind stopped to a screeching halt. It was bad. It was- he jerked back. Well, he did not move far. But the movement did not evade Tokio's notice, if his frown was anything to go by. Tokio rarely ever gave him that look – except when he said something extremely dumb. It was as though he was shaken awake from some kind of reverie. Only then did he realize that he was still clutching Tokio's shirt.

“Tamao?”

The look these three syllables earned him made Tokio think of an animal caught in the headlights. It was a first. He probably expected Tamao to smile, laugh it off. Instead he was just staying there. Even after he moved backward to get a better look, it was as though he was afraid to move. Or even breath. It was very strange to see him so still, him, the King of Beast who usually was always doing something. Even when it was simply lounging on the ground looking at the sky, the perfect picture of idleness. Even then, the lack of movement was not so stark. His heart was pounding in his ears and, out of habit, he thought he was going to have another crisis. Or something.

Luckily, no fit was in order, and he was left to stare back at Tamao, at a loss as to what to do. His friend looked shell-shocked, and was not going to move. As for himself, he was not sure what he should do. He was not even sure that whatever it was he could do it. He could still feel the electricity dancing on his skin from Tamao's kiss. It was real, of course it was. It would never have occurred to him to ever think about Tamao this way before. Or maybe yes. Probably it was one explanation why he stuck with him. He was constantly eating, pilfering whatever was given to him and he was certain the guy would eat him out of house and home. And he was irritating at best, especially since Genji entered Suzuran. And he was worse than a mother hen. Always on his back. And he destroyed his bike. Though the bike had been pronounced dead the instant Tamao sat on it. It was beside the point. He knew that Tamao would do anything to help him. He knew it. For an instant, he wondered, if maybe he was not mistaken. What if he could not love Tamao back? No, when he was looking at him like that, he had to be sure. It would not be fair to say anything but the truth to him. He looked like he would break and it was enough to send Tokio's mind reeling. Damn. He felt Tamao's closeness, the warmth permeating his skin – he just recalled that he had dashed out of his house to find him.

None of them spoke. They did not dare to. Tokio had no idea what to do. He did not want to pull back. He did not want Tamao to take his hands from his back. And at the same time, he feared that if he did not and later found that he could not stay... it would be worse.

“You think too much.”

And you don't think at all. The reply was ready to be said, but at the last moment he watched Tamao. He really watched him. And kept seeing the same uncertainty as before. The idiot, he was trying to give him a way out! A way to do as though nothing ever happened. As though they were not still pretty much clinging at each other. He shook his head, a faint smile slowly creeping on his lips.

“Maybe... Would you like it better that I think less?”

It was a honest question, really. He knew he was over-thinking things half the time. The other half, Tokaji was the one doing the thinking. But he still wanted to facepalm at the sheer stupidity of the question. Being honest does not prevent anyone from being stupid at times. Tamao himself was a case in point. Though it would be unfair to deny Tamao the benefit of doubt in that department. If he were totally honest with himself, he would admit that he was tired of thinking.

The thoughtful expression of Tamao gave him pause. Better not rush it. “I'm not sure...”

It could mean so many things that Tokio could not help but ruefully reflect on the fact that if Tamao wanted him to think less, he would not say that. He slowly withdrew from Tamao's personal space, suddenly aware of the coolness of the night. Comparatively, Tamao's skin was almost scalding. Damn him, why is he even thinking it? As he looked back at him friend, it caught him off guard. He knew his mind would never let him rest. That whatever he does know, he would spend entire days thinking about it and never getting any closer to a conclusion than he was at the moment. It was frustrating. Maybe this time, he could let it go though. He was safe. Because it was Serizawa Tamao he was speaking about. Anyone else would not have stood a chance. The thought came up, unbidden and uncalled for. Instinctual. And his instinct never failed him before.