Chapter Text
Junichirou felt grateful. It was a warm feeling that spread from his chest to his every cell.
He was scared and alone, and he didn’t know what to do, and then Michizou was there, and he didn’t demand any explanations, and he offered him a roof over his head for just one night, but it was the one night he needed it the most.
The ginger made it clear he didn’t care for a reason, but Junichirou still wanted to give it to him.
There could be a time when his father didn’t let him go with just one punch in the face and a warning, and he felt he could rely on Michizou when he felt the world was falling. He wanted to be able to stay in Michizou’s arms like the previous night.
It had been warm, and he felt safe for the first time in years.
Perhaps it was wrong to want to share his burden with Michizou, but he couldn’t help but long to have someone that knew the truth. Someone that could help, a shoulder to lean on once in a while, because he learned he no longer could carry his ambition alone.
He felt disgusted but thrilled. He stood up to his father; he had some inkling of power for the first time, but it was counterproductive.
His father, Gorou, used to think he was raising a doll, unmoving and obedient, a little boy too afraid even to speak. But when he snapped, he proved he was alive and could put up a fight. He could show anger and hate and held strength within him; he had strong opinions and a mind of his own, a stranger to his father’s eyes.
In his father’s eyes, Naomi didn’t matter. She could do whatever she wanted and become whoever she wanted, but not his only son. Junichirou had to be stronger than he had been, and achieve what he couldn’t because he got another man’s woman pregnant.
His whole life, Junichirou cared only about his little sister. She was the light of his life, and she wouldn’t meet any hardship in her life as long as Junichirou took care of her.
This desire paved his life’s goal, and his father noticed Junichirou had no intention to follow his footsteps. Junichirou didn’t feel particularly inspired to become a detective, but his father, wanted him to be better than the brat that shamed him.
In his heart, there was no space for someone else’s revenge, not even his father’s. He wanted to have a cake shop. As simple as that, he wanted to give people something sweet for the bitter days of life.
The title of father that Gorou carried in Junichirou’s mind was a mere accessory. Somewhere in middle school, the word lost its sense to Junichirou, and his head stopped seeing a father in Gorou, and he became the man who provided for him and his sister.
He just had to wait until he was of age, and he’d be free. Naomi refused to stay with their grandmother because Junichirou had to remain with Gorou. His worry for Naomi blinded Junichirou to the point he didn’t notice it was obvious Gorou never cared for his daughter, and that he only saw Junichirou as a young mind he could shape into the person he couldn’t be.
If only Gorou weren’t a despicable person, Junichirou wouldn’t have minded learning from him the intricate art of deduction.
Well, there wasn’t much he could do with fifteen years of age, but his newfound resolution would help him achieve his goals. He finally knew what Gorou wanted, so he could work not to become the man Gorou wanted him to be. Junichirou knew Gorou wouldn’t care about him until he finished high school, so he had time to live his life before he left Gorou with an empty house and a frustrated plan.
He looked up at the cloudless sky and extended his hand. When he was closer to the blue vastness above him, he felt he was closer to making his dreams come true. When he only saw the sky, he felt his aspirations were not impossible at all.
The metal door creaked, catching his attention.
He turned to see Michizou’s head popping out. “Hey, Junichirou.”
The redhead smiled and urged him to come closer with his hand.
Michizou walked to the redhead and threw him something once he was closer to him. Junichirou caught it and inspected it, noticing it was strawberry milk. “Two for one at the vending machine,” he explained.
“Lucky,” Junichirou mumbled. “Thanks, Michizou.”
“Hey, what happened to your formal speech?”
Junichirou smiled, sticking the straw into the pink box. “After yesterday, I figured we weren’t just acquaintances.”
The older clicked his tongue and turned around. Junichirou didn’t pay much attention, but he thought he saw a rosy tinge on Michizou’s ears.
There were many things that Junichirou wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t even know how to start that conversation, or if Michizou would listen to him at all. He limited himself to drinking the strawberry milk, hoping Michizou said something that he could prompt into the topic he wanted.
No, he had to take the initiative; he was the one who called him out on his free time so they could talk, so it was on him to carry the start of the conversation.
God, he just couldn’t think of the right words to use. He had never done it before —telling someone about Gorou. He kept it hidden from everyone. He never had bruises to show, and he convinced himself he had to endure the noxious words with which Gorou choked him.
He didn’t feel he could breathe whenever Gorou was near him, but knowing how pitiable he truly was made his heart beat again at the face of his father. He was no longer a little kid, and it was time for him to think of how he wanted to live his life.
“Thank you,” he said again. “For yesterday.”
There was no other way to start.
“Hey, no problem,” Michizou moved to stand in front of Junichirou. The ginger placed his hand on Junichirou’s shoulder. “If you ever need anything, you can count on me.”
Junichirou smiled, trying not to feel too satisfied after hearing the exact words he was hoping Michizou would say.
He took a deep breath. “I want you to know.”
Michizou retrieved his hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready, you don’t—”
“Owe you anything, I know,” Junichirou interrupted. He took Michizou’s hand and put it back on his shoulder, keeping his hand over the ginger’s. “But I want you to know; I need someone to know.”
There was hesitation in Michizou’s eyes, covering his sight with a glassy doubt. Junichirou feared Michizou would reject him, tell him he didn’t care about his problems or that it was none of his concern to know of his life.
For years, he carried with everything on his own, but he was ready to face his reality, but he needed someone to confide in, someone who understood him and bared with him despite the troubles he carried.
Michizou was always there; he was the guy he didn’t need there but was there despite everything. He disrupted his routine and demanded Junichirou’s attention, making it impossible for Junichirou to ignore him. He didn’t do it knowing what he would be getting into thanks to a pure coincidence, but it happened. Michizou knew there was something wrong in Junichirou’s life, but he still cared when he saw the bruise, and he showed up when Junichirou asked him to meet.
Maybe, just maybe, he could trust Michizou. He needed someone —anyone— that could tell him everything would be alright even when he was falling apart.
Not Atsushi, because he couldn’t give him any more burden than he was already carrying. He didn’t want to trouble him.
It felt wrong to want to use someone like that, but Junichirou needed a real friend, and it felt right if only that person were Michizou. Bright and bold Michizou, who made him smile and feel safe. He wanted that, even if the ginger knew everything he hid.
Michizou sighed and moved his hand from Junichirou’s shoulder to his neck. “After club?”
A small doubt generated in his mind. What if Michizou didn’t show up? What if they left that rooftop, and Michizou stopped getting involved in his life?
He set his worries aside. With Michizou, he’d take a leap of faith.
“After club,” Junichirou repeated.