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have a good night, oshi-san <3 [05:34]
Have a good day, Kagehira. I told you not to wake so early just to wish me a good night. [05:37]
it don’t bother me! i got an alarm set for you and everything, and i like knowin that i wished you a good night [05:38]
You have very impractical notions. Regardless, I want you to know that I’m going to have a very busy day tomorrow, and I’ll likely forget to check for your messages when I wake up. If you don’t hear from me, try not to send me too many messages in the meantime. [05:43]
i promise i won’t send you too many! but i’m gonna send you a good mornin just in case? [05:43]
I won’t complain about it. [05:46]
good night, oshi-san <3 [05:47]
good mornin, oshi-san~! have a good day <3 [14:12]
i know you’re not checkin your phone right now, but i hope your busy day is goin by really fast! [15:45]
i’m gettin a lil worried about you, oshi-san. it’s not like you not to answer like this [16:28]
can you answer me back once you get this so i know you’re okay? [16:29]
hello!!!!! oshi-san? [17:04]
Mika clicked the power button on his phone and placed it facedown on the bed. He curled up even more, pressing his cheek into his folded arm and resuming his endeavour at biting off all the skin from his bottom lip. He had sent the last messages hours ago, and Shuu still hadn’t replied. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t been making him antsy for the past twelve hours. Although he never typically checked his phone but once every few hours, he did, at least, check his phone long enough to shoot back a small message or two. He knew how Mika got when he didn’t respond, though Mika was against letting him worry too much about it.
He lifted his phone back up, tapping at the screen. No new messages in the past twenty seconds. He dropped it again.
Something terrible might have happened to Shuu. That wasn’t out of the question. Especially when he acted as unpredictable as this. He never left him this high and dry for this long.
He drew in a shaky breath and realised, very suddenly, that there were tears in his eyes.
With a grunt, Mika pushed himself up from the bed. He couldn’t let himself get too deep into his feelings. Wasn’t Shuu the one who told him not to be so dependent on him? He could hear Shuu in his mind even now, reprimanding him. You’re barely of any use to anyone when you’re crying about things that are out of your control!
And he would be right about it.
He pressed a knuckle into his eye, trudging through the dark room. The light of his nightlight cast enough of a glow across the floor to help him on his way, but he still managed to bump into the doorframe when he passed through.
He continued on, dragging his fingers along the wall, around the bend and into his living room. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, only that he needed to go somewhere away from his bed, so that he didn’t let all his bad feelings fester and wallow in it until it drowned him. That’s what he had been told by Shuu, by Arashi, by his own therapist, by the television shows he watched. Don’t let your sorrows grow around you and rot! Bad thoughts are like sludge! You’ll stink of the stench, and you’ll never be able to pull yourself out of it.
Living alone was hard.
It was hard because he never came home to anyone else there. He couldn’t greet anyone, didn’t find anyone he could talk about his day with or commiserate over some busy schedule. He came home to no lights on, no movement in the few rooms he had, and nothing out of place. He felt alone every time he stepped foot in his apartment. The television brought him little comfort, though having the low chattering of voices on as he went about preparing his microwave dinners - courtesy of his dietician - did help to calm him. He didn’t do well around people, but he also didn’t do well without people.
This wasn’t something he was ever going to tell Shuu, though. He just wanted Shuu here.
He just wanted Shuu.
A few moments later, Mika found himself clicking the television on. He flipped through channel after channel, found nothing, and ended up turning it right back off. He couldn’t stand hearing any voices at the moment, afraid that they would end up overwhelming him.
He had to do something. Something that could distract him from the constant, unending, uncomfortable worrying that gnawed on his insides. His therapist had called that his anxiety, but Mika called it his care for Shuu. It manifested in something far more physical than simple worry, and sometimes, it even made him sick. Like now, when the nauseous feeling wouldn’t go away and the trembling in his fingers proved just a little too much.
He needed it all to stop. Physically, he needed something to keep the care at bay, before it overwhelmed him. He wasn’t supposed to let it take him over. That was what Shuu had told him, and what his therapist told him. It was what everyone had told him.
Rubbing his collarbone, he made his way down the small hallway, toward his crafts room.
Shuu hated flying.
Or, rather, he hated the time it took to get there. If he had his way, he would blink and be in Japan in an instant. As it were, he instead had to suffer long, insufferable hours in his single, uncomfortable seat. Granted, he did prefer to spend extra for the premium economy seats when he could, and often chose to do so.
This last flight, he had chosen comfort over having extra spending money. Not only was he eager to return home, but he intended on surprising Mika - thus, his warning that he would be having a busy day. It was the only way he could notify him of the inevitable lack of response on his end.
Unfortunately, his plan didn’t seem to have panned out all too well.
Eleven missed texts. Two missed phone calls. Kagehira certainly wastes no time in making sure I’m doing well.
His thumb hovered over his screen, but he decided he wasn’t in the mood to bother with the trifles of technology at the moment and stuff his phone back into his jacket pocket. He was tired, and he needed to focus the rest of his energy on making it to Mika’s apartment. Besides, the boy had already gone the entire day without hearing from him. He could stand another hour.
In the small extra room where he kept all his projects, Mika tugged out his spare sewing kit. The project he was currently working on laid half-finished on the table, and a few threads were still hooked to the sewing machine. Those were unusable, and he didn’t want to touch them and risk ruining the fabric.
He pulled a small spool of thin red thread from the kit. After unwinding a bit of it, he tore it with his teeth, too focused on what he was doing to grab the scissors and risk throwing himself out of it. His eyes burned, his chest was heavy, and all he could think about was Shuu. All he could wonder about was Shuu. Why was he ignoring him, and why couldn’t he just take the time to say hello? A quick message, something that would allay his fears. He knew how Mika got when they were away from each other too long without contact. He knew, and still chose to do this.
Or maybe it wasn’t a choice. Maybe, Shuu had lost his phone. That would be more plausible. But…
It didn’t feel like that. It felt worse than that.
But if Mika could just get a little closer to Shuu, maybe this bad feeling would stop.
He pulled the string he had cut up between his fingers, inspecting it. It was very thin. And when it was this thin, it could cut through skin if it slid against it hard enough. That was exactly what he needed.
When Shuu knocked at Mika’s door, he was greeted by silence. Brow furrowed, he checked his watch. 23:30. Mika would usually be home this late in the night. He was never the sort to like staying out after the dark, given his apprehension of things in the dark and his night blindness.
He considered calling, but decided against it, instead reaching for the spare keys to the flat.
Inside, he found the light of the living room light on. So clearly, this fool had simply not heard him knocking at the door, or else he chose to ignore it for one reason or another. He let out a breath of relief. Perhaps he was simply busy with some task or another, and couldn’t make it to the door in time. Perhaps he was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Or perhaps he had made himself busy today and had already fallen asleep by accident, without shutting off his lights. Shuu certainly wouldn’t put it past him. This would be the most logical assumption.
He pulled his luggage inside and shut the door behind himself, locking it for good measure. “Kagehira?” he called.
No answer.
Forgetting his luggage for the moment, Shuu made his way to the small living room. The curtains were shut, so at least others couldn’t get a view inside. Mika had enough sense to close them, at least. But he hadn’t had enough sense to arrange the pillows on his couch back to their neat places, nor was the air conditioner above the balcony window turned on. Shuu found it almost stiflingly warm, so he pulled the small cushioned footstool over to stand on, so that he could reach the buttons.
“Kagehira, you brainless child,” he muttered, barely dodging the leaves of the monstera plant that he had given Mika before he had left on the way down. It wasn’t wilting, and it seemed to be well watered, from what he could tell, so he assumed Mika was also caring for that. He had needed something else, something else living, to care for while he stayed behind. A plant served to enliven Mika’s minimalist decorating style without crowding him too much.
A plant also did not need to visit a veterinarian, or need to be fed thrice daily. He wasn’t sure he could trust Mika with that much yet.
At least the kitchen was relatively clean. Not a single plate in the sink, which meant either that Mika had washed his dishes recently, or else not used a plate at all. Whether or not Shuu was proud of him hinged whichever one of those options were true, but he didn't care to find out at the moment. He was much too busy trying to find his missing partner.
“Kagehira!” he called again. He was beginning to get fed up with the lack of response. Knowing that Mika was around here somewhere didn’t help his nerves or his hairpin temper. He could make himself useful for once and answer.
Suddenly, Shuu heard the faint twinkling of a music box. It came from the direction of Mika’s room. It was the same tune as their Mémoire Antique, and he realised, abruptly and all at once, that it was the same music box that he had given Mika over half a year ago, before he had graduated and moved overseas. In a moment of pure fondness, he’d had it tailor-made for their song, because he knew Mika preferred the tune of it better than any others, and because he noticed how much easier it was for him to concentrate when it played in the background.
He made his way to the doorway and flipped on the light, expecting to find Mika drawing in his sketchbook, or crafting a new outfit for himself, or perhaps someone else.
Instead, he found Mika curled up over the wrinkled covers of his bed, his face pressed into the covers, clearly racked with quiet sobs. The buttons of his nightshirt were undone and his sleeve torn. His phone had clearly been thrown across the narrow room, as it now laid face down on the rug, forgotten. Most of his plushies were on the floor as well, giving the room the eerie appearance of being trashed, despite everything else being in place.
Horrified, Shuu rushed to the bed. “Kagehira!” he whispered brusquely, placing a hand on Mika’s calf.
A terrible miscalculation on his part. Mika’s foot came flying before he could register it, heel connecting with Shuu’s waist hard enough that he let out a cry and slipped off the edge of the bed, falling to one knee. He hadn’t realised Mika was that strong.
In an instant, Mika bolted upright, looking at Shuu in bewilderment, then in shock, then in a sparkling happiness, then in sudden cognizant horror. He looked unsightly, with his tear-stained face and his reddened eyes and his glistening philtrum, stained with snot.
“Oshi-san?!” He coughed, and his face twisted in worry and pain. Not physical pain, but mental, regretful pain. “Oshi-san! I’m sorry!” He dropped off the bed, hurriedly touching Shuu's side to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He was getting rather handsy, so Shuu scooted away slightly.
“I’m fine,” he insisted impatiently, turning his face away.
That seemed to calm Mika for a moment. But only for a moment, before he curled in on himself again, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, his fingers curled and hidden in fists. He let out a sharp, tuneful sob.
Shuu came closer once more, uncertain on what to do. He drew his arm around Mika, pulling him in. “Kagehira, what on earth has gotten into you?”
That just made Mika cry harder, and louder. He twisted into Shuu, sticking his moist face into Shuu’s shirt and crying ever worse. The feeling of tears and snot staining into the fabric of his nice shirt and touching his skin was completely disgusting, and he didn’t hide the grimace from his expression when he knew Mika himself couldn’t see it. But neither did he pull away, intent on keeping this position for as long as either of them needed. Or at least until he had some sort of explanation for this.
It took Mika a good quarter of an hour to calm down enough to speak. By that time, Shuu’s leg had begun to fall asleep, and he was shifting more than ever with the discomfort of it. Still, he did not leave.
Melted against Shuu’s side, his head rested on Shuu’s shoulder, Mika finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “I wanna go to bed.”
For a moment, Shuu didn’t say anything at all, on the cusp of frustrated and annoyed that he hadn’t immediately gotten the answer he’d wanted. “Then we’ll get you to bed.” He began to pull himself up, then stopped when he realised Mika wasn’t moving a muscle. “What?”
Mika made a full-bodied twitch in response, but still didn’t bother to get off of Shuu.
“Kagehira, please, at least let me move.”
He didn’t.
Now Shuu was frustrated. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it clearly isn’t anything good. I don’t have a single idea why I walked in on you in this state. You aren’t telling me a thing, and now you refuse to get off of me to get in bed, despite telling me that you want to get to bed. Tell me what’s gotten into you.”
Mika sniffed, wiping at his eyes, quite awkwardly, with his shoulder. “I was just worried ‘bout somethin’.”
“And left your room in disrepair? Your stuffed animals on the floor? I know you, Kagehira. I know this is something serious.” And Mika was clearly dancing around the issue. Whether it was because he didn’t want to tell Shuu, or because he couldn’t get it out of himself, Shuu didn’t know. But he intended to find out. “Please.” He set a hand on Mika’s head, carding his fingers through the short, messy locks. “Please tell me why you’re so upset.”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s clearly not, if it made you so upset.”
Silence. Then: “I was scared somethin’ happened to ya.”
Now it was Shuu’s turn to be silent. He had already considered this particular scenario as a possibility. Mika was not the type to take a change in environment or normalcy very well. At all. In fact, the one time Shuu had seen him take it even remotely well had been during the execution of Valkyrie, when the boy had followed him down to the depths of hell just to care for him. As broken as he had been, Mika hadn’t faltered a single step down to him, nor did he fail to secure a safe enough place for the two of them to exist until the worst of the pain washed away. Mika had been struggling too, yet he had shown a tact Shuu had never been aware of before all of it happened.
“Oshi-san?” Mika shifted where he laid. “‘M sorry if that was too much.”
“I was thinking to myself.” Before Mika could even think to ask what he meant by that, he cut in, quickly: “Nothing bad.”
“‘Bout what you think I thought happened to ya?”
“You were quite worried about me because I didn’t respond to you the way I usually did, weren’t you?”
Mika let out a soft sigh. “You weren’t respondin’ at all, so I thought… I dunno, ya got into a horrible accident or somethin’, ‘cause I know you woulda responded eventually, especially once ya saw how worried I was. You always do that. And I dunno anyone over there that I could call to know if you were doin’ all right either. And probably no one over here was gonna know if you were okay either, so it ain’t like I could ask anyone else.”
Shuu felt ashamed, to know that it had taken him so long to realise that his plan was so fallible. “My plan was to surprise you when I came back. What I assumed I would come back to was a shocked, surprised, smiling face. I envisioned you would have been worried, yes, but I never imagined I would walk in on you sobbing on your bed as if your favourite pet had just passed away, with not a care in the world that I had even arrived, without so much as a peep about it.”
“Oshi-san,” Mika whimpered, and it was sad and pitiful and not very Valkyrie-like at all. “I’m happy yer here. I’m just still sad over thinkin’ that somethin’ bad happened to you. You scared me real bad, and I didn’t like it.”
This took Shuu aback. Mika was speaking much more candidly than he ever had before. He had only been in Paris for two months, yet it seemed as if Mika had blossomed into something different from his usual helpless, timid self.
Was he really so crass that he couldn’t even have a capable conversation with his partner? And the reason for such incapability was something of Mika’s doing, for once. Of that, he was certain. “You’ve been speaking with your therapist regularly.” Not a question. A statement.
“Yeah, Oshi-san. I have.”
He nodded his head, a small dip of his chin downward. “Then it seems we can have a more productive conversation this time around.”
“But we never talked ‘bout anything like this before?”
He would need to tread carefully if he was to get anything across. “I never scared you like this before.”
“Nah… ya never have. But ya did this time, and…” Mika paused, looking at Shuu almost worriedly, as if he were waiting for him to speak or form some opinion of his own. As much as Shuu wanted to speak on it, he forced himself to stay quiet, so as not to scare the issue at hand away, and soon enough, Mika continued. “And it felt bad.”
Shuu waited a moment, then asked: “What did you think about, when I wasn’t answering you?”
Mika still looked nervous and unwilling to talk about it. “I told ya, Oshi-san. I thought you got into some bad accident or somethin’, and I was worried you were never gonna answer again. Or that maybe I’d get some phone call from someone tellin’ me you were in some freak accident and they’re sorry to tell me Valkyrie won’t be goin’ on anymore.” He fidgeted in agitation. “An’ then I thought maybe you just didn’t wanna talk to me anymore, like you were throwin’ me away or somethin’.”
Ah, the single issue that kept coming up, over and over, with him. Shuu knew it well. Worst of all, he wanted to talk about it.
But Mika was still talking. He sounded more distressed now. “And then I started thinkin’ ‘bout how I could get ya back, or at least the feelin’ of ya, and how we were like when ya always paid attention to me. I wanted to be yer doll again in the moment, so I…”
“So you what?”
Mika fidgeted again, then shook his head. “I don’t wanna tell ya.” Clearly, he was worried about saying something that disappointed him.
Shuu leaned back. “Kagehira, it would be better if you told me now than if I were to find out later and be angry about it.”
“You’d be angry ‘bout it later, though.”
“Kagehira!”
Mika winced, then pulled his hands up from their place tucked into his thighs. What Shuu saw made him inhale in a hiss through his teeth.
Across each proximal knuckle were cuts, so thin that they wouldn’t even be noticeable were it not for the blood that stained each one. Most of it was smeared in odd ways, as if Mika had tried to wipe it off of his fingers and given up halfway through. Dried blood settled in the wrinkles of both palms and tainted the skin a light shade of crimson. If he didn’t know any better, he would call it the sort of red that flushed the face. But this wasn’t nearly as cute.
It was a haunting sight, and Shuu understood immediately what feeling Mika had been trying to chase.
“Don’t speak. Don’t tell me what you were trying to do.” He lowered his head, pressing the heel of his palm into his temple and squeezing his eyes shut. He felt a distress headache coming on, and it was not something he wanted at the moment.
“I’m sorry, Oshi-san,” Mika whimpered, when he noticed the despair. “I’m really sor-sorry, Oshi-san.” His breath spasmed.
“Don’t apologise either, Kagehira. You’re going to make me angry if you continue on like this.” Because at a time like this, it would be better to be upfront about how he felt, just as Mika was doing.
“I’m sor-” Mika coughed, cutting himself short and yanking his hands back behind his thighs to hide them again. He curled tightly into himself, looking small and pitiful and helpless once more. “I wanted to be yer puppet. I wante-wanted to be yer puppet again. I…”
Shuu sighed, pulling back slightly. He held a hand out, palm facing up. “Kagehira, give me one of your hands.”
“No.”
“Please give me one of your hands. I’m not going to hurt you or make it worse. I’ve seen the damage now. There’s nothing to hide from me that I haven’t already seen.”
Slowly, Mika pulled one of his hands back out, placing his palm in Shuu’s. His fingers shook.
As promised, Shuu didn’t hurt him further. He didn’t even touch him, bringing the fingers only close enough for him to inspect closely. These weren’t very deep wounds, but they were going to need time to heal. And likely Mika would have to keep from bending or straightening them too much. He clicked his tongue at the thought. “You’ve caused yourself a lot of trouble, doing this to yourself. You won’t be able to use your fingers properly for a week, at the very least. Maybe even longer than that.” He glanced at Mika's tearstained face. “Why did you think doing this would help you?”
Mika sighed. “I was… was losin’ you, an’ I wanted the feel like a puppet, ‘cause it always reminds me of you, and…” He turned his face away guiltily. “I was…”
“Getting your strings back,” Shuu prodded.
“Yeah. Wanted to feel like I had strings again. Wanted to know you were still movin’ me.”
“Kagehira,” Shuu said, “I’ve told you before, I want you to be human. That means I don’t want you to think you’re my puppet anymore. And I don’t want you to rely on me for every little thing, like making sure I’m responding to every message of yours.” Now this was the more difficult part. “That being said, I’m… sorry. For not telling you the truth.”
Mika looked up at him, a frown at his brow.
It made Shuu feel a bit self-conscious about this entire ordeal. But he forced the discomfort down, intent on making sure that Mika knew for certain that he wasn’t clinging to a coward of conversation, and continued. “When I decided not to tell you, I was under the impression that you could handle going a few hours without having any sort of contact with me. I had been living in France for several months by then, so I believed you could go without a ‘good morning’ from me for a day. I was clouded by my judgement, and by my thought that I would be doing you a great favour by appearing to you in person without you knowing. I know now that I was too hasty. My judgement was… not right. And I’m sorry for that.”
“Oshi-san…” Mika took in a breath, slowly dropping back down against him. “Yer judgement’s always right -”
“Non! Don’t say it, Kagehira. It was wrong this time. It was wrong in the past, and I know that you know. I know that is exactly why you did what you did.” He gently shook Mika’s hands, just enough to indicate what he was talking about. “This. This is what I never want you to do again. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.” But he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“You need to understand. I don’t want to see you hurting yourself because of me. In any way. Not your hands, not the rest of your body.”
Mika stared at the ground, his cheek pressed against the fabric of Shuu’s shirt. “But ya said a long time ago that we gotta endure pain in order to create art.”
Shuu clicked his tongue. “When we’re practicing, Kagehira. And when we’re creating art. Were you making art, doing this to yourself?”
A soft squeak. “No.”
“No. You weren’t. You were doing it to appease the thoughts in your mind, but in the end, they didn’t end up helping you at all. Will you promise me you’ll never do this again?”
Mika thought for a moment. Then he thought some more. He thought of doing it again, and of the way it had relieved him in the moment. And he answered: “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Maybe you’ll never do this again? I need that answer to be a ‘yes,’ Kagehira. Yes, you will never do this to yourself again, just because you want to be my doll. You don’t have to do this to yourself to have my attention. All right?”
Mika fidgeted, frowning deeply and twisting to look up at him. “But ya didn’t pay attention to me. And then I did this, and ya came back.”
“I didn’t come back because you did this to yourself!” Shuu shook his head, a bit impatient from his aching head. “I would have been back at the same time even if you hadn’t done this to yourself. In fact, I’m disappointed that you did this. I’m incredibly disappointed. I want you to be human, but you’re going backwards, thinking like that.” He moved himself so that he could pull Mika up, one arm hooked around his waist to prop him upright. “Promise me you’ll never do this again. I don’t want to dictate your entire life, Kagehira, but I also don’t want you doing this.”
Whatever Mika saw in the few seconds he gazed into Shuu’s eyes, it was enough for him to nod. “I promise,” he murmured, glancing away. “I won’t do it again.”
“Good. That’s all I want. Now, will you move so that I can get you up into your bed?”
Mika’s odd gaze met Shuu’s. The whites of his eyes were still a lightly reddened white, giving off an eerie impression of a tortured doll. “I want you to do it for me.”
“Do what?”
“Move me.” Mika smiled, and his doll eyes gleamed with tears and mischief.
“Kagehira, I told you, you need to become your own person. You’ll never become your own person if you can’t even do something as simple as move yourself.”
Mika whined. Unbelievably, he seemed to be getting heavier, as if he was draping all of his body weight onto Shuu. “Then I’m not gettin’ into bed.”
“Honestly!” Begrudgingly, Shuu relented, twisting so that he could face Mika. The latter seemed to understand it without being told, and pulled himself off enough to allow him that. He reached for Mika’s forearms and drew the loose fists up.
“We’ll get you cleaned up before you get in bed,” he decided, pushing himself up and gently pulling Mika up with him. “At this rate, your bed is going to look like a warzone.”
“I don’t mind that,” Mika muttered.
“Well I do,” Shuu replied, stepping behind Mika closely, so that his front pressed against Mika’s back, and sliding their arms together. From here, Shuu could guide him from behind. Although the position was awkward for walking, it was not a position either of them were unfamiliar with. “I refuse to share the bed with someone as bloody as a prisoner of war.”
Mika’s giggle shook against his front, and he couldn’t help smiling faintly.
Slowly and clumsily, they made their way to the bathroom. Shuu moved Mika’s hands to the sink, letting go long enough to turn on the cold water. He watched Mika’s face in the mirror. A tired, cracked porcelain figurine whose own peace had been tarnished from the inside out in the long clock’s rotation of hours that he had waited for a response. He carried it in the way his eyelids drooped just a bit heavier than usual, in the way his fingers moved sluggishly beneath the cascading sink water, as if he were already in some twilight sleep. It reminded Shuu of the way Mika used to be, once upon a time, when his methods of dance mimicked the unnatural jerks of a marionette’s. Even then, he had commanded the audience with his enthralling motions, gave them exactly what they asked for. Shuu regretted a great many things, but he regretted most of all that he hadn’t noticed any of it until much later than he perhaps should have.
“You’ll never get anywhere like this.” Somewhat impatiently, Shuu took his partner’s wrists and gently flipped his hands so that they were palm up beneath the water. They were already relatively clean, but he took the opportunity to knead his thumbs with purpose along the harder dried blood, rubbing the skin clean.
In the meantime, Mika tilted his head back. From where he was standing against Shuu’s front, he could rest it back against Shuu’s shoulder, and did so, his eyes half-lidded. When Shuu glanced at them, they were nearly shut. The sight was so endearing, and so quietly gentle that he couldn’t help but to lean forward, pressing his lips against Mika’s hairline, just over his forehead.
“Huh?”
Shuu looked into the mirror, and saw that Mika’s eyes were now open and looking right at him. “Nothing, Kagehira.” He blew a warm breath into Mika’s hair and once more pulled back. “Let’s get you dried off and bandaged.”
“‘Kay.”
Months ago, Shuu had suggested that Mika keep a first aid kid around his home, in case of emergencies. Mika, being well aware that he was prone to emergencies, had quickly and graciously agreed. Right now, he was glad for the kit. It took only minutes for Shuu to rub medicine over Mika’s cuts and wrap each of his fingers in generous layers of gauze wrap. While he did, Mika alternated between murmuring soft thank yous and leaning forward to tap his head against Shuu’s. There was nothing Shuu could say that would make him stop, nor were there any words he wanted to say to begin with.
When that was finished, they were back to their close positions once more, Shuu with his front against Mika’s back, his arms over Mika’s as they made their way to the bedroom. He guided Mika to the bed, slowly crawling onto the covers and tugging Mika down beside him. Mika pressed back against him comfortably.
“Oshi-san?” he asked, when Shuu began to sit up. “Can ya stay with me till I go to sleep?”
Shuu sighed. “I haven’t even changed out of my day clothes, Kagehira. My sensitive nose has been smelling the airport on me ever since I left it, and I would rather not have to think about it while I try to get to sleep.”
Mika whined. “You can just put yer nose in my hair, and that way ya won’t have to smell that anymore.”
“Kagehira.”
“Oshi-saaaaan. I don’t wanna be away from you for another second.”
Grunting, Shuu lowered himself back down beside Mika, which appeased the latter hugely. He wrapped his arm around the wriggling boy and nuzzled his nose into his hair. “I’ll have a hard time getting to sleep because of this.”
Mika giggled. Then there was a moment of silence, blissful and peaceful. And then he spoke again. “Hey… did ya mean what ya said?”
“About what?”
“About how I don’t gotta do this to get yer attention.”
“Yes. I did. You don’t have to do anything to get my attention.”
“Why’s that? I got yer attention all the time?” He had a smirk in his voice.
Shuu blew a breath out through his nose and buried his face a bit deeper into Mika’s hair. “Mmm. Stop asking questions and try to go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“‘Kay, Oshi-san.”
Beside their shared bedside, the soft melody of their Mémoire Antique tinkled on.