Chapter Text
Bleeding was a rite of passage for skaters. It went hand in hand with passion as they pushed their limits to reach new thrills. The more someone skated, the more they bailed; by that same logic, the more someone bailed, the more scrapes, bumps, and bruises they would collect. It was normal; Tadashi knew this from personal experience.
That didn’t make it any less startling when he looked at Ainosuke’s hand and saw red.
It was far from the first time that he had bailed (and it didn’t come close to some of the others in terms of inducing concern) but it was the first fall that had broken skin. Tadashi had been helpless to do anything but watch as the board slipped out from under Ainosuke’s feet, sending him crashing to the ground with a painful thud. Just a few short months ago, he would have been scrambling to the boy’s side with worry etched deep into his features, but time had taught him that the young heir was built of tougher stuff than he appeared. Even the harshest of falls failed to wipe that contagious smile off of his face, so Tadashi wasn’t fretted by the crash until--
“ Tadashi!”
The panic which accompanied the cry of his name had his heart skipping a few vital beats. Ainosuke remained on his knees, all of the color drained from his face as he stared at his own hand with wide eyes. The fact that he was making no move to stand was almost as frightening as the cry itself. Nothing kept him down for more than a handful of seconds; nothing . Gut twisting up in knots, Tadashi followed that alarmed gaze down to his hand. As he did so, a crimson droplet spilled over the cliff of his wrist and splashed onto the concrete.
Blood. Ainosuke was bleeding. A lead ball dropped into his gut. Rationally speaking, he knew that this would happen eventually-- every skater bled at some point-- but there was little logic to be found when alarm had his heart racing straight out of his chest.
Without missing a beat, Tadashi abandoned his own board in favor of crouching down before the young heir.
“Here. Let me see,” he started, carefully taking the injured hand into his own. Upon closer observation, the scrape wasn’t too bad; it wasn’t as deep as he’d feared and the amount of blood coming from it was deceiving. It wasn’t any worse than some of the cuts that Tadashi would get while gardening, which was a relief. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if his friend had gotten severely injured on his watch…
“Am I going to need stitches?” Ainosuke’s small voice prompted him to look back up from the wound to be greeted by a pair of wide eyes. For as distressed as he appeared, there was no shine to them; they were completely dry. Rather than stare at the scrape on his hand and lose himself in the sting, his gaze was locked solely on his companion. In such a frightening situation, he still placed his trust and confidence into his friend’s hands.
It was almost too much for Tadashi to take.
He dropped his gaze back down to his hand and shook his head. “No, you won’t need stitches,” he promised before carefully releasing Ainosuke’s hand and rising to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” With that, he took off out of the dry pool and rushed to the garden shed.
Bleeding may have been a rite of passage for skaters, but it was an occupational hazard for gardeners. Even the most skilled of them suffered slips and cuts from time to time; it went hand in hand with handling sharp instruments and thorny plants. Tadashi couldn’t count even half of the number of times he had scurried to the shed to retrieve the first aid kit, whether for his parent, another servant, or himself, but it had never felt quite this urgent before. It was as if he couldn’t move quickly enough. He had no reason to rush-- the cut wasn’t terrible and he knew that Ainosuke wouldn’t aggravate it further by running around-- but the thought of his friend being in any kind of pain made his stomach twist up in knots.
Ainosuke had put faith in Tadashi and trusted that he would do right by him. He couldn’t afford to be the reason tears collected in those eyes.
He barely stopped to pick up the first aid kit before he was running back to the pool where Ainosuke remained on his knees, awaiting his return. A few more drops of blood had dripped onto the ground in the time that he had been gone, but his hand remained hovering exactly where Tadashi had left it. Perhaps the young heir had taken the command Stay here just a bit too literally…
Not that it mattered. As Tadashi approached with the first aid kit, Ainosuke’s expression softened slightly. “You were really fast,” he commented. “Did you really run all the way to the shed and back?”
“I did,” Tadashi confirmed. Had he really been that fast..? He hadn’t felt like he had been moving nearly quickly enough, but he supposed that urgency had skewed his perception of time. Maybe his anxiety had propelled him a little faster than he thought it had.
Without wasting another moment, he popped open the kit and pulled out one of the antiseptic wipes. Cleaning the wound and the area around it was a necessity-- not only would it disinfect the scrape, but it would help him to better visualize the actual cut as well-- but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. Even the adults tended to twitch and wince when the medication was applied.
Carefully taking Ainosuke’s hand back into his own, he glanced up to meet his gaze again. They were still filled with an unshakeable trust that threatened to make Tadashi’s heart race. “This might sting,” he warned, looking for understanding in those dry red eyes before returning his attention to the task at hand.
He heard Ainosuke’s pain more than he saw it. Even as he wiped the excess blood away from the wound, his hand remained perfectly still; not even a finger twitched in surprise or discomfort. The only indication that he felt anything at all came from a short, sharp intake of breath that gave way to silence within a second. It was almost enough to make him hesitate.
Any adult would call it courage. He could still remember being praised for being so brave the first time a cut of his own had been treated. His own eyes had watered from the sting, but he had held his breath and kept himself still to the best of his ability despite it. When it came to Ainosuke, however, he had a sinking feeling that his lack of reaction wasn’t due to any kind of desired fearlessness.
He had seen the marks on his arms. Ainosuke was simply accustomed to pain.
Tadashi hated that he was contributing to it.
Muttering apologies under his breath, he focused on treating the wound as quickly and efficiently as possible. Fortunately, years of practice allowed him to follow the motions thoughtlessly, his hands working on autopilot.
Disinfect. Cover. Wrap. Secure.
Only a few moments later, Tadashi tugged the ends of the gauze into a knot that rested snugly against the back of Ainosuke’s wrist. There was no way to hide it-- his family would surely notice the bandages and ask questions-- but Tadashi took a small comfort in knowing that it was at least properly treated. He released Ainosuke’s hand, satisfied with the work he had done.
“How does it feel?” he asked as he started putting the different pieces of the kit back together. “Can you still move your wrist like that, or is it too tight?”
Lips pursed in a slight pout, Ainosuke rolled his wrist and flexed his hand experimentally. “I can still move,” he confessed. “It hurts a little, though…”
“I’m sorry,” Tadashi answered, reaching out to take his hand once again. “Do you want me to loosen it a little?”
Before he could take his hand, however, Ainosuke pulled it away. When he looked at him, there was something in his eyes that Tadashi couldn’t quite put a name to. It wasn’t the shine of tears-- he hadn’t ever seen Ainosuke cry from physical pain and he doubted that he ever would-- but it wasn’t the dry, open trust from before, either. Paired with the tiny smile that started to tug on his lips, Tadashi was almost tempted to call it fondness , but that couldn’t be it…
...Could it?
Holding his injured hand close to his chest, Ainosuke shook his head. “Don’t. It’s okay if it hurts,” he assured.
Tadashi blinked. “I… Are you sure?” he pressed, shifting closer. “I don’t mind. I can make it hurt a little less.”
“ No! ” Ainosuke insisted, cradling his hand a little tighter. The phantom smile had vanished from his lips only to be replaced by a defensive frown. “Please. Don’t. It’s okay.”
Tadashi paused, surprise etched into his expression. The way he was so protective over his pain didn’t settle well with him at all, but was it really his place to push him? Was it really his place to have done any of this at all..? Rather than persist on the topic, a soft sigh of surrender passed his lips and he returned to his original position.
Seemingly pleased by Tadashi’s capitulation, Ainosuke relaxed back out of his defensive position and dropped his hand back to his side.
“Thank you, Tadashi,” he said, the smile slowly creeping its way back onto his face. There was a certain shine in his eyes that Tadashi could only describe as mischievous that built up alongside it. Before he could voice any questions about it-- What are you thinking about, Mr. Ainosuke? -- they were all answered in a single quick, darting motion.
One second, Ainosuke was sitting a short distance in front of him; the next, Tadashi felt something soft and warm on his cheek.
Oh. Oh.
As Ainosuke pulled back, Tadashi’s face burned . The spot where those lips had been pressed against his cheek tingled in memory of that brief, daring display of affection. Slowly, he lifted a hand to brush his fingers over the sensitive spot.
A kiss. Ainosuke had kissed him .
Tadashi hadn’t known that his face could feel this hot…
A delighted giggle brought him back to reality. Ainosuke was back in his original position with a large smile stretching across his face. A small pink tinge colored his own cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the flame that crackled across Tadashi’s own.
“Your face is so red, Tadashi!” he exclaimed in amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkling from the force of his smile. It was the kind of expression that belonged on his face; the kind of unrestrained mirth that he deserved to have and that only Tadashi seemed willing to give him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed! I was just saying thank you!”
Thank you. Of course. It was a childish way of showing thanks-- one that Tadashi more commonly associated with children and their parents-- but a valid one all the same. If nothing else, it reminded him that his young master was, in fact, still a couple of years his junior. Who was to say that he didn’t still cling on to some more juvenile ideas?
It didn’t help that Tadashi was likely the only person who allowed him to indulge in this childish affection, either.
Jumping to his feet, Ainosuke picked up his board and held it upright with his injured hand. “Come on. Let’s keep skating!” he chimed, offering his other hand.
For the briefest of moments, Tadashi stared at the hand being offered to him. How many times had he stood above Ainosuke and helped him up? Extending the other boy his hand had become second nature to him. To be on the receiving end was odd (especially since his only injury was his own embarrassment), but… not entirely unwelcome.
With a small smile tugging on his own lips, Tadashi took his hand and pulled himself up to his feet. He should have known that a little scrape wouldn’t keep his Ainosuke down for too long.
He was built of tougher stuff than he appeared, after all.