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For a moment, all that filled Kaoru’s ears was a deafening silence. The world seemed to hold its breath as his vision failed him and forward momentum too quickly halted. He wasn’t aware of the pain at first, only the way his stomach became too light. The last sharp inhale he managed felt like a knife, caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat before it was knocked entirely out of him. His back crashed into the ground, and his head followed, his breath making a quick retreat from his body.
As his senses came back to him, Kaoru was aware of too much at once. His arm was bent unnaturally, and the ache in his ankle wasn’t a good sign. But thoughts felt too slow to fully assess the damage. He wanted to close his eyes. If he closed them, that familiar mask and more familiar sneer wouldn’t be there. If he could just rest, he wouldn’t hear all the shouting and the pain in his head would disappear.
Even as Adam’s mouth moved, he couldn’t make out all the words, only catching every few syllables.
Maybe I always have been boring , were the words that rang through his head like an echo. Adam had never liked him enough, never thought he was interesting enough to love. Even after all these years, nothing had changed there.
“Kaoru!”
Even now, with every sound ringing and muffled, Kojiro was so loud. For once, Kaoru was grateful for that. Dark eyes appeared in his field of vision. If he had the energy to speak, he would have tried to tease him for the worry written on his face, would have told him not to call him by name here. But he was so tired. Each blink was a bit slower, and words wouldn’t make it past his throat.
Strong arms wrapped around him, and Kauru winced as he was lifted. Everything hurt. Being moved made his ankle feel like it was on fire and his arm screamed, but there was a part of him that felt better just feeling the warmth of Kojiro’s chest against his cheek. It had always been like this, hadn’t it, Kojiro picking up the pieces of the mess Kaoru made of himself?
Even when they were teenagers, he had always been there, perhaps even when Kaoru didn’t deserve it. When Kojiro looked at him with adoration in his eyes, he wasn’t subtle. When the bickering turned to soft words in hushed tones, Kaoru hadn’t been ignorant of that. He knew when Kojiro’s touches lasted just a second too long to be casual, and he still found himself ignoring that in favor of the shiny new addition to the group, so blinded by Adam’s shine that he could barely register anything else.
When that light had become so bright he couldn’t see himself beyond it, it was Kojiro who steadied him. When Adam left him scrambling through the dark, it was Kojiro who brought light back to him, bringing him back to himself. Whatever jealousy he may have felt, he had pushed that aside to be a good friend, and Kaoru would never be able to repay him for that.
And here they were again, almost a decade later. Were they in a car? When had they gotten into a car? Kaoru stirred, blinking slowly. The world remained blurry, but the quiet here was better than the resonance of harsh voices outside. Through the haze in his vision, there was Kojiro, eyes locked on him, full of fear. Kaoru buried his face further into the man’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. Speaking hurt. It made his lungs tired and his head pound. “Kojiro.”
There was a shift, and Kaoru hissed at the feeling of movement. But there were lips pressed against the top of his head, ever so delicately, ever so carefully, and if he focused on that, the pain wasn’t so bad. If he closed his eyes and forced all of the little energy that remained in him into feeling the rise and fall of Kojiro’s chest, feeling the beating of his heart against his ear, feeling how his arms wrapped around him, if he forced himself to only feel the man holding him, he could forget about the pain.
Everything ached. Kaoru’s head pounded, and it felt like every bone in his body had been pressed to its limit, sore from nearly snapping. He had really messed up this time, hadn’t he? He was no stranger to injury, but this felt different. This wasn’t the same as when he was a kid, skating circles around his peers, crashing and bouncing right back. This pain was different. This was something bigger, something harder.
For a moment, he lay there, eyes shut, trying to assess the hurt that had settled inside his body. The sound of the monitor somewhere nearby and the stale, sterile scent that hung heavy in the air told him he was in a hospital. So this was bad, then. He hoped that he was at least waking up in a reasonable time. If he opened his eyes to find that he had been knocked out for three months, he would be furious.
How exactly had he ended up here, anyway? The last thing he could clearly recall was… Fuck, it was cloudy. Everything was so muddled. Kaoru scanned his mind, trying to piece together the moments leading up to-- that red board colliding with his face. Adam sneering over him. Kojiro’s arms around him. Shit.
Kaoru sighed, finally opening his eyes to face whatever lay before him. It was then that he noticed the strong and sturdy warmth against his thigh. Muscular arms lay against his leg, a tangled mess of green hair propped atop them. Kojiro still wore his jacket, nothing underneath. Kaoru couldn’t have been asleep too long if he was still there, not even changed out of his clothes. That was a relief at least. And at least the man before him had managed to get some rest. Kaoru didn’t want to pay too much attention to the knot that formed in his stomach when he thought of the panic Kojiro must have felt. The idea of waking him seemed cruel-- he looked so peaceful now.
But Kaoru wanted out of here. The idea of a hospital always made him sick to his stomach. The air was so heavy here, and he hated to see Kojiro at his side in a room like this again. He had woken with the man sitting beside him, those deep ruby eyes wet with tears, begging him not to keep getting pulled into Adam’s orbit. It had turned out so poorly, put him in so much danger, landed him here. And there they were again, repeating history.
Kaoru reached out a hand, careful not to move too much. It hurt to reach out, but he needed to. His fingers carded through soft green curls, and he let out a soft sigh when the man in front of him stirred. Kojiro blinked, and then straightened. Kaoru’s hand fell from his hair, and Kojiro gripped it in his own. Kaoru would normally have pulled away, reprimanded him for making such an obvious display of affection, but in this moment, all he wanted was to feel Kojiro’s touch, strong and real.
“I’m glad you’re up.”
“How long was I out?”
“A few hours. Enough for them to get you into a splint and some casts.” The ghost of a smile faded from his lips. “Kaoru, you really got hurt this time. He--”
“He really hurt you this time. Please don’t keep letting him suck you into this.”
“Can we not talk about this right now?” It came out as more of a snap than Kaoru intended, but he didn’t take it back. “Just… get a nurse so I can get out of here. And go home. I’m sure you have plenty of work to do before the restaurant opens.”
Kojiro’s brow narrowed, and the tight grip on Kaoru’s hand loosened, but he didn’t let go. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Then call Hiromi. I’m sure it would be easier for me to ride him in a car than on your bike.” Kaoru didn’t let his voice waver, and he didn’t-- absolutely did not -- wince when Kojiro’s hand moved away.
“He and Miya are already waiting outside.” Kojiro stood, letting out a sigh. “Promise me you’ll call me if you get any test results or if you need anything.”
Kaoru grit his teeth, but nodded. “I promise.”
It was a miracle that he wasn’t concussed. His back had taken the worst of the blow when he crashed to the ground, and Adam must have hit just the right place on his face. Part of Kaoru wondered if it was intentional. His broken ankle and extremely sprained arm were punishment for not being interesting enough, but he could keep his head intact so that he could watch with clarity as Adam cast his shadow over S with this stupid tournament.
Kaoru had spent so many years escaping him. It had taken months for the nightmares to end when he finally got loose of his hold. Even longer to rearrange the pieces of himself that he had assembled just to impress him. And even now, he struggled to dismantle the walls he had built up to keep himself from ever getting hurt like that again. But he was so close.
He had the kids, always around him whether he wanted them to be or not. Miya and Shadow stayed right by him even when he complained about wanting some peace and quiet between scans and tests. Langa had messaged him, panicked about if he was alright, and Reki… Kaoru felt like he was missing a part of a family when he didn’t hear from him. There was work, something he was finally able to take pride in, something he could do to support himself without ever needing to rely on someone else again.
And then there was Kojiro. Whatever he was to Kaoru, he was there.
Kaoru finally had all of this, a peaceful life that he enjoyed, and he had still allowed himself to be pulled back into Adam’s games. As much as he chastised Kojiro for his recklessness, it was him who had been rash here. He should never have thought skating against Adam would do anything but land him here in the hospital. There was no way to win against him except to abstain from the fight completely, to refuse to give him the chance to hurt him again. Kaoru had played right into his hand.
He had to get out of here. Maybe it would be better to stay for observation, but the white walls and harsh fluorescent lights made Kaoru feel as if he couldn’t breathe. Hospitals were too stifling, too filled with memories of the first time he’d ended up in one of these uncomfortable beds. Hiromi had argued for a moment about taking him out so early, but agreed under the promise that he wouldn’t be alone.
He had Kojiro. He always had Kojiro, willing to stay at his side even when he didn’t deserve that devotion.
Kaoru practiced his arguments and his explanations in the car, but when he rolled into the restaurant, they disappeared. He was tired. All that he could fully register is how much he wanted to rest, and Kojiro didn’t fight him too much when he pulled up to the counter. If he just stayed awake and if they shared their usual glass of wine, maybe he could find the words he had lost on the way in.
Kaoru groaned as he felt arms around him. Had he fallen asleep? Shit. “Sorry,” he murmured, his head pressed against Kojiro’s chest, arm reaching up to wrap around his neck for stability as he was lifted. Why was Kojiro carrying him? He peeled his eyes open to watch where the man was taking him. Right. The stairs. He hadn’t considered that when he came here with his busted leg.
“You gotta stop apologizing to me,” Kojiro murmured. “And you gotta decide if you’re so angry at me that I can’t stay with you at the hospital, or if you want me to take care of you.”
Kaoru frowned. There was a hurt in Kojiro’s voice that he hadn’t heard in so long. “It’s not that I didn’t want you there. You just shouldn’t have been there. I don’t want to see you afraid in a hospital again.” The vulnerability on his tongue tasted strange. He wasn’t one to talk this openly. Maybe it was the exhaustion. “It’s not you that I’m angry at.”
Kojiro was slow as he sat him down in a familiar bed. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked, taking a seat beside him.
Kaoru, though exhausted, almost laughed. “That’s not very us , is it?”
“Kaoru, I’m serious.” He sighed, fingers moving through the man’s hair, removing the tie that held it off of his face. It fell over his shoulders, and Kojiro pulled it back, running his fingers through it, always so gentle.
“I got hurt, and that’s no one’s fault but mine. You’ve told me a thousand times not to fall for Adam’s shit, and I did anyway.” Kaoru hated how his voice sounded. His throat was too tight. They didn’t talk like this. It made him nervous. Steady hands moving through his hair, parting it into sections, helped him center himself. “I don’t want you to see me when I’ve messed up. I especially don’t want to see you being so fucking supportive and caring.” His voice had raised again. “I didn’t listen to you, and there you were, just… giving up all your time and sleep to stay there with me. You have a life, Kojiro. You have work. You’ve got to grow up. We’re not kids anymore. You have to pay attention to something that’s not me. You’ve got more important priorities than taking care of your careless friend.”
A quiet passed through the air. The only sign that Kojiro was still there was the slight pull of his fingers as he braided his hair. The air was heavy. “What it sounds like is that you want me to be mad because you didn’t listen to me, and you’re snapping at me because you want me to snap back.” How was his voice so calm when he read Kaoru like an open book?
Kaoru swallowed. “You should be angry. You have every right to be angry.”
“In all that time waiting for you to wake up, not once did it cross my mind to be mad at you,” Kojiro said. He tied off the braid, and pulled his arms around Kaoru’s torso. “At Adam, sure. If you hadn’t been in such bad shape, I would have pummeled him right there. At the world, maybe, for making me so afraid of losing you. But never did I even consider being angry with you. This isn’t your fault.” His grip was tighter, but careful to avoid the tenderest injuries. “I just wanted you to be okay. And I hated the idea of you being alone. We promised, didn’t we? That we’d never be alone as long as we had each other.”
Kaoru didn’t speak for a moment. They had made that promise. Up on the roof, watching the sunset, after Kojiro had found him crying on his own. It wasn’t long after his first real fight with Adam. He had promised to go to him when he was afraid, to lean on Kojiro when he needed to, and to be there when Kojiro needed the same. They’d promised again, when Kaoru was first in the hospital. And again, when Kojiro had come to him after a rather messy breakup. And again, when they fell asleep tangled in one another on the futon after a night of laughter and wine. And again, with every quick glance and every soft touch. They’d promised.
As Kaoru leaned back, back pressing against Kojiro’s chest, he looked up to meet his eyes. Another promise. Kojiro was there, and he was so steady, so careful. “I’m not perfect at relying on you yet.” Kaoru wasn’t sure why he smiled when he said it.
“If you’ll let me be so lucky, we’ve got a lifetime to practice and get better.” His smile was returned, and Kaoru let out a sigh of relief.
He nodded, tilting his head back just a bit more. “I think I can give you that.” After everything you’ve given me, I can give you that.