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The moment Kaoru came home from school, his mother demanded to see his phone. He didn’t question it, didn’t argue, because he shouldn’t have anything to hide. Even if he hesitated, that alone would look suspicious.
He sat in his room in silence while she stood in the hallway and read through plenty of things she’d probably object to. When she was done, she handed his phone back and left him with a “We’ll talk about this later.”
It took a few minutes for Kaoru to look at his phone again and scroll through his texts. Texts his mother had read.
She hadn’t said anything about it, not yet, but Kaoru knew. He could see the messages open in the app history, because she wasn’t tech savvy enough to close out of everything she’d looked at. At least he had the sense to log out of his social media apps when he wasn’t using them, but the texts… he hadn’t considered those. And there was no taking it back now.
Kaoru’s mother knew he was gay, and she hadn’t even looked at him since she found out.
It always went the same way. Sometime within the next few days, Kaoru would be sitting in his room, and his mother would come in to have a ‘chat.’ The conversation would be entirely one-sided, because there was nothing Kaoru could say with honesty that wouldn’t make her more upset. He couldn’t share anything with her out of fear that he’d let something slip that she’d take issue with.
She never once hit him, but sometimes, he wondered if that would make things easier.
He had to get out of the house. His parents were still awake, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t go looking for him— and if they did, he didn’t want them to find him. He was staving off what was surely going to be an anxiety attack, and there was no way he was getting to sleep that night, but he couldn’t just sit around and dread the lecture that awaited him.
He had to do something, talk to someone.
Adam was his best bet. Kojiro would try to come up with a solution, do everything he could to resolve the situation. He was a helper, and while that wasn’t a bad thing, it wasn’t what Kaoru needed.
Kaoru showed up at the park in half the time. He tried to skate and clear his mind, but he could barely focus. He’d had a hard enough time skating there in the first place, so pulling off tricks was nearly impossible. Frustrated, he tossed his board aside and headed for one of the benches off to the side.
As soon as he sat down, he heard a familiar voice.
“Hello, Cherry Blossom.”
He looked up, to the left, to the right, trying to find the source of the sound. Finally, his eyes landed on the half-pipe behind him, where an equally familiar figure was sitting on top of the platform.
“How long have you been out here?” Kaoru asked.
Adam shrugged. “Long enough,” he said. “Come on up. The sunset is beautiful.”
With a sigh, Kaoru retrieved his board, then walked over to join Adam on the half-pipe. Adam extended a hand to help him climb up, and once he sat down, Kaoru noticed that Adam’s own board was nowhere to be seen.
“You’re early tonight,” Adam said, like it wasn’t already obvious. Though his face was mostly covered by his hood, Kaoru could see a smirk. “Did you miss me that much, dear?”
Kaoru rolled his eyes. Adam’s playfulness, the terms of endearment, usually got a better reaction out of him. But not tonight. “I’m not in the mood.”
“No?”
Adam waited a beat, like he was expecting Kaoru to elaborate, but he got nothing.
Adam was right, though; the sunset really was beautiful. Kaoru didn’t frequent the park at this hour, and he couldn’t see it well from the middle of the city where he lived. Now, it was clear on the horizon, only partially obscured by some of the taller buildings in the distance.
Kaoru wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence, but it got dark enough for Adam to pull down his hood. He hardly ever showed his face to Kaoru in broad daylight, but in the quiet moments of the evening, he seemed a lot more comfortable.
Usually, Kaoru couldn’t look away. But now that his eyes were welling up with tears, he couldn’t bring himself to look at all.
“Cherry.” Adam’s voice was soft, gentle. “Is everything alright?”
Kaoru shook his head. It absolutely wasn’t.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Kaoru shrugged. Unless Adam could turn back time, or make Kaoru’s parents okay with what they’d seen, he wasn’t going to solve anything.
Quieter, Adam asked, “May I… give you a hug?”
A hug. All that time they’d known each other, and they’d never once shared a proper hug. Sure, there was plenty of physical contact between them— collisions on their boards, all those times Adam had caught and supported him before a fall. But Kaoru had never been much of a hugger, and Adam didn’t seem like one, either.
Kaoru nodded anyway.
Adam’s next movements were careful, cautious. Kaoru had never seen him hesitate for anything, but it was unmistakable now. Stiff arms wrapped around Kaoru, warm hands rested on his back. Adam definitely wasn’t a hugger, but it seemed like he was giving it his all anyway. Kaoru scooted closer, letting his hands rest on Adam’s chest. That was warm, too, and Kaoru realized he’d forgotten to wear a coat.
As Adam held him tighter, resting his chin on top of Kaoru’s head, Kaoru also realized he was shaking. He wasn’t sure how long that had been going on for, but Adam seemed to notice, since he started rubbing circles in Kaoru’s back. It was surprisingly soothing, despite everything, and Kaoru found himself relaxing in Adam’s arms.
Adam couldn’t fix the situation. He couldn’t magically make everything okay. But he could be there for Kaoru, and that was all that really mattered.
