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Adulting is never a fun game and life is a bitch sometimes—or every time. He came to talk sometimes, more like tagging along with him whenever he felt overwhelmed by his job or coworkers. He’s not a highschooler anymore. Despite being an adult, in Cobra’s eyes, Murayama is a highschooler—an adolescent who tried so hard to be an adult. Cobra himself might be still trapped in his adolescence era.
“You’re 20, are you?” Cobra asked, he wasn’t sure about Murayama’s age. He knew that all Oya High’s part-timers are past 20, but he didn’t know Murayama’s exact age.
Murayama chuckled, “No, 23 to be exact.”
“If you’re not a part-timer, I think you’re like 15 or something.”
“Rude.”
Both of them laughed. It was a nice day to not doing anything. They would just sit at the bench outside the gas station, stargazing even though there were not so many stars to look at the sky. They would talk about anything, sometimes about life or quick daily updates, and they don’t know since when they used to talk to each other comfortably.
Murayama would tell Cobra about how’s work for him and how it’s been rough for him since he tried to be an adult. Cobra would just listen most of the time, he didn’t have so much to talk about his life, and he wasn’t sure if it’s as fun as Murayama’s story.
“And you?” Murayama asked, “Your age.”
“I’m 24.”
“Oh?”
“Why?”
“I thought you’re like … 27?”
“Fuck you.” Cobra threw a light punch to Murayama’s shoulder, laughing. Is he that old? Or something made Murayama think he’s that old? No, 27 didn’t sound old at all actually. But it made him question himself, is he a proper adult so that Murayama can think like that or maybe Murayama is just an idiot? He didn’t know.
They have something in common, and one of them is their head full of shits. Tons of things to think about but they didn’t know how to tell it. Murayama is better though, he can let it flow, telling Cobra this and that about his life. Not in detail, but at least, he talks, unlike Cobra who tends to shut.
Murayama stood up, he didn’t have anything to talk about again today. “I have to go home,” he said, throwing a punch to the air and stopping it in front of Cobra’s nose. “Let’s meet again and next time, you can tell me what’s going on in your mind.” He smiled, and it was bright yet gentle. “I come here not just to spout anything to you. I don’t wanna be the only one who talks. Okay?”
“I can’t promise though.”
“I know. I won’t force you.”
“See you, then.”
Cobra smiled as he saw Murayama going further and further with his bike. He has grown up, he’s not a highschooler who only knows to fight anymore. Slowly, Murayama is becoming an adult—unlike him. Screw it, Cobra doesn’t know what’s going on in his mind and how is he supposed to talk to Murayama?
Smiles gone when Cobra couldn’t see Murayama’s back anymore. He felt like a loser that he is, super awful, and embarrassing. Is it so obvious that he got a lot in his mind so that Murayama can read him? Or because it’s Murayama he could be this obvious? Cobra didn’t know and he rather not to think about it.
Cobra has been thinking for days since the last time he met Murayama. He himself didn’t know what he was always thinking about. Cobra was clueless all his life and always miserable at times, but he didn’t know how it happened to him. Sometimes his head is full, chest heavy, eyes prickling, but he has to hold himself up and look tough. He has to.
No, Cobra didn’t know since when Murayama leaned on his door frame. He was looking through him and asking, “What are you thinking about?”
“Since when you’re here?” He almost had a heart attack.
Murayama shrugged, “Not too long ago. Didn’t I call you beforehand?”
“Sorry….”
“No, no problem.” Murayama moved closer, lowering himself so that their eyes could meet. “You know you’re always had this look on your face,” he said and finally sat himself down wherever he could.
The clueless Cobra asked, “What look?”
“You’re thinking about something or maybe lots of things,” he said, “and I don’t know what you are thinking about. You look like you’re always restless.”
Right, Cobra always looks like he’s thinking about something he didn’t know. His head is full, and Cobra couldn’t get a grip on it. Everything on his mind is a big yarn of tangled thread, he kept running on it, looking where it ends, how to untangle it, but Cobra didn’t seem to find the end. Everything is a mess, and he hates to admit it.
“I don’t know,” Cobra mumbled.
“Huh?”
“I don’t fucking know….”
This might be impulsive, but Murayama reached Cobra’s hand and held it tight. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m such an idiot. I talk to my coworkers, you know, the Orochi Brothers. They said I put pressure on you and now I can see it clearly. I’m sorry. You … you don’t have to tell me though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine.” They fell into silence, Murayama still holding onto Cobra’s hand and Cobra didn’t seem to want to let it go. “I too sometimes don’t know what’s on my mind. That’s why I came to talk to you. I know I have Furuya-chan and Seki-chan, and I know that I can believe in them. But for some reason, talking to you about myself is easier. Have you considered talking to Yamato or Noboru or anyone from Sannoh?”
Cobra shook his head, “I talk to them, sometimes.”
“Sannoh’s matter?”
“Sort of.”
“Not about yourself?”
“No.”
“Like, never?”
“Maybe a little, but not so much.” They stuck, more like Cobra was stuck. He took a deep breath. “It’s hard to talk to them when you’re supposed to be their leader, the one who put them together.”
“But, they’re your friends….”
“You don’t talk to your Oya friends yourself.”
Murayama let out an awkward chuckle, he bit his lower lip, that’s right. Cobra was right. It’s hard to talk about yourselves when you’re supposed to be their leader, you’re the one who is supposed to solve their problem. But it’s actually not like that. They’re in one team, they should get each other’s back. Both of them know it well yet it is still hard for them. “Remember when I cry on your shoulder?” he asked.
Cobra nodded, “Vividly.”
“You can cry on my shoulder too and I’ll be there for you.” Murayama squeezed Cobra’s hand, hard. “If you don’t know what’s on your mind, I would never know either. I’m an idiot. I wouldn’t know unless you tell me. But you can cry on my shoulder or if you need a hug, I’ll hug you.”
Cobra smiled, a faint reluctant smile, he didn’t say anything. All the things he had in his mind dropped down, filled his chest with a heavy feel, a little hard to catch a breath. Cobra pulled Murayama’s hand, they got closer, and he put his forehead on Murayama’s shoulder. “Murayama,” he whispered, “thank you….”
“It’s always me the only one who talks,” Murayama said, “you can tell me anything on your mind.” He held Cobra close, pulled him into his hug, embraced him with his warmth. “It’s over. We don’t have to fight with Kuryu Groups again and if we do, you’re not alone. You got me, you got the others too. Even Hyuga-chan is willing to help you.”
“I know,” Cobra said with his brittle voice. “I just … I … I don’t know. I have so much on my mind. I wanna talk to you, but, I … I’m not someone like you, Murayama. I wish I could talk about myself too, like you.”
“Cobra-chan, it’s okay….”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can talk to me after you sort things out.”
“I’m sorry….”
Murayama tightened his hug and gave a gentle stroke on Cobra’s back. Cobra did it before for him and now is his chance to give it back. “We can go through this together. We can talk if we’re ready. We, because I’m such a mess too. Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing, what’s on my mind, but I think we can go through this together. You and I, together.” Murayama chuckled, “Look, I didn’t even know what that meant exactly, but yeah….”
He nodded, wrapping his arm around Murayama’s body, tightly as if he would never let it go. “You’re a blessing in disguise,” Cobra whispered. “I’m glad I stumbled upon you,” he added. “Now, may I cry?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you….”
Adulting is never a fun game and life is a bitch sometimes—or every time, but Cobra got Murayama’s back and vice versa.