Archive of Our Own

Another new school. 

Karube doesn’t know how he’s the one that ended up punished. Sure, he’d been fighting, but those other guys had deserved it! Just because he’d come out on top and those jerks cried their crocodile tears, he was the one being sent away. 

Lumped into the far back of his new classroom, he’s tapping his pencil on his notepad. All his ‘new peers’ have been avoiding even looking at him. He supposes he doesn’t blame them really. His blonde hair is clipped short. There’s a dark mottling of bruises over his knuckles and one on the line of his jaw. If he comes off looking ‘rough around the edges’, he doesn’t really care. 

Effectively ignored for the foreseeable future, he sighs and slumps down in his seat. 

It doesn’t matter. It’s one year. Then he’s out. One fucking year. 

He’s walking home. It’s another part of his punishment, this time from his parents; grounded, he had to come right home after school for the next month. His backpack hangs loosely from one shoulder. He kicks a rock down the street as he walks. The rock rolls too far into the road and he abandons it, continuing along down the street. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck where the afternoon sun beats down on him. 

There’s the sound of something hitting the wall of the underpass, then the hollering of disappointed boos. His brow scrunches and he turns to look down the slope. On one side is bunch of boys around his age, wearing uniforms like his own. One or two have baseball bats in-hand. On the other side, standing against the wall, is a lone boy with dark hair and glasses. He looks tense and kind of familiar, though Karube can’t quite place him. 

Pausing to watch, Karube’s curious. 

One of the boys plucks up a baseball, tosses it up and then - crack - hits it. The ball strikes hard into the collarbone of the glasses-wearing boy and he stumbles, but doesn’t fall. 

Karube’s mouth twists in surprised disgust. What the fuck was going on here? 

The group of boys all descend into laughter, cackling. One grabs the bat from his friend, picking up the ball that’s rolling back towards him. He swings the bat around loosely, Karube can’t head what he’s saying from this distance, but the lone guy stands even more stiffly. The ball’s tossed, hit, and it collides with the guy’s face, knocking him down. 

Okay. That’s enough. 

Karube drops his bag on the ground. He scoops up an inch-sized rock from the ground, bouncing it in his hand as he starts down the slope. He can hear the group’s taunting now and grits his teeth. These guys are sick. Pulling his arm back, he aims and then hurls the stone at the apparent leader. It’s strikes him above the brow, hard enough to break the skin. 

“Gah! What the fuck?” The guy cries out, gripping his face. Karube scoops up another rock, this one larger. 

“What? Isn’t this a fun game around these parts? Lobbing shit at each other? Sorry, I don’t have a baseball,” he says sarcastically. He aims another throw and pitches it; the stone collides with a bully’s guts and he immediately keels over. 

“It’s that new kid,” one of the bullies says to his boss, “I heard he got kicked out of his last school for beating a bunch of guys up.” 

So much for hiding his bad reputation. He shakes it off, tosses a stone up and catches it in his bruised hand. They’re at a stalemate. Karube’s still on the higher ground. 

“I think you guys should start fucking off,” he calls over to them. The group looks at him, then the bleeding leader finally relent. He picks his bat up from the ground, nods for his group to start leaving. 

“See you around, Niragi,” he calls to the boy by the wall. 

Karube waits until they’ve walked away then hurries down the slope to the guy. ‘Niragi’, apparently. Karube thinks he’d seen him in class, sitting a few seats ahead of him. He crouches at his side. For a moment, his eyes pause on the wall. There’s an outline, smudged slightly, clearly battered by balls. His jaw sets, but he looks away and sets a hand on Niragi’s shoulder. 

“Hey, are you o-“ 

Niragi shoves his arm away. 

“Don’t you know what you just did? Everything’s just going to get worse now!” He snaps, voice thick. There’s blood dripping from his nose and over his lip, and tears in his eyes. 

“I was just trying to help,” Karube argues back. 

“Well, you didn’t.” 

Niragi swipes a hand over his face, wiping away tears and smudging the blood. He gets to his feet and scoops up his bag and then he’s quickly walking away. 

Karube scoffs lightly. He wasn’t necessarily expecting a ‘thank-you’, but maybe some kind of gratitude. Whatever. 

Standing up, the toe of his shoe clicks against something. When he looks down, he notices the guy’s glasses and picks them up. By some cosmic luck after that baseball to the face, they’re not broken or even chipped. With a sigh, he folds the temples in and tucks them into his pocket. 

He walks in through the front door of his home, sparing a quiet ‘hey’ to his parents before heading to his room. His bag gets dropped on his chair and he pulls the glasses out of his pocket, setting them on the desk. Shoving his uniform jacket off, he flops onto his bed, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair. 

He’s late getting home. He already knows he’s going to get another nagging, one-sided conversation from his father about ‘pulling his head in’. It wasn’t as if he didn’t get passing grades; even if they weren’t necessarily that good, he wasn’t failing any of his classes. He just wasn’t going to stand by and watch people get bullied. It wasn’t like the school was ever doing anything to stop it. 

His mother calls him out to dinner and he heaves in a breath, readying himself for the nagging that was to come. 

An hour later, he’s showered and sitting tense at his desk over his homework. His father’s words ring around in his head, making him grit his teeth. The disappointed tone, the look in his eyes, it makes Karube feel sick. He can’t even focus on his work. Flicking his books closed, he leans back in his seat. 

His eyes settle on Niragi’s glasses. They’re a little dirty, the black frames and lenses smudged with gravel dust. He picks them up, swiping a thumb over the temple arm. Pulling open his desk drawer, he rustles around until he finds a small cloth. 

It takes Niragi longer than he’d ever admit to realise he’d lost his glasses. He almost tears his room apart trying to find them, dumping his bag out on his bed, pulling open drawers, retracing his steps from front door to his bedroom. He searches the bathroom three times as if there was some nook he hadn’t checked. 

Finally, it clicks. 

They’d been knocked off at the underpass. Hadn’t he picked them up? He had to have. That guy had been there though. Had he forgotten to pick his glasses up when he’d been snapping at him? 

His mouth curves in a grimace. He’d have to go back there tomorrow morning and search for them. His parents would be pissed if they found out he’s lost them. He’d just gotten a new pair after the bullies broke his last ones. 

His sleep is fitful. He keeps opening his eyes to look at the clock on his bedside table. Getting up early in the morning, he dresses and skips breakfast. 

The morning air is chilly against his skin as he walks to the underpass. He halts at the gravel slope, drawing in a shuttering breath. It’s been year now that the bullies had been dragging him down here and pelting him with baseballs. What had he ever done to deserve it? 

He feels tears gather in his eyes and sniffs, starting down the slope to the underpass wall. He spares the outline of himself the shortest of glances before kneeling down to search for his glasses. 

The longer he’s searching, the clearer it becomes that his glasses aren’t there. Tears sting his eyes, his hands and the knees of his uniform are dirty. If he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to be late for school. He curses, heaves in a hitching inhale, then stands to walk back up the slope.

When Karube walks into the classroom the next morning, his gaze turns over his classmates until he spies Niragi. He’s seated in the second row by the window, hunched over at his desk and flipping through a textbook. His eyes are squinting slightly and there’s a slight bruise on his face. For a moment, before he can stop the thought, Karube wonders about the rest of Niragi’s body. If he’s covered in bruises beneath his clothes. 

How long had these bullies been doing this to him? Did he even get a chance to fully heal before he ended up with more bruises? 

He shoves the thoughts away. Pulling the glasses out of his pocket, he sets them on Niragi’s desk as he passes, not even stopping to say anything. 

Niragi’s head lifts, glancing at the returned glasses. He picks them up, surprised to find them clean and in good condition. Looking over his shoulder, he stares at Karube, brows furrowing. The blonde doesn’t look back at him, just slumps to sit at his desk and stare out the window. 

Niragi turns back around, slips his glasses on, and turns his gaze down to his book again. 

Lunch is only slightly better than after school. Niragi can’t escape the bullies even now in the cafeteria. He’s sitting by himself, like usual. Everyone else knows he’s the bullies’ punching bag and they don’t want to make themselves targets by associating with him. 

He doesn’t care. It’s been a few years, he’s used to eating alone. He’s got the top grades in his class, so spending all his breaks studying and not hanging out with friends is apparently working for him. It’s a small comfort to know he’ll at least make it into a good university or college after high school. 

He’s barely a few bites into his lunch when they show up. They crowd around him. The boss - Arata - slides into the seat next to him and throws an arm around his tense shoulders. He doesn’t look up to meet any of their gazes, just keeps staring at his food. His panicked heartbeat pounds in his ears, blocking out whatever taunts they’re throwing at him. 

“You’re in my seat,” a new voice cuts in. Niragi glances out of the corner of his eye to see Karube standing there. He sets his lunch tray on the table across from Niragi’s. Feeling Arata’s arm tense, Niragi sets his jaw tight. This is bad. It’s going to be bad. 

Karube sets his hands on the table, staring down Arata. The healing bruises on his knuckles are purple and green-ish. 

“Whatever,” Arata says, tone clipped as he peels his arm off Niragi, “Let’s go.”

He stands, clapping his hand on Niragi’s shoulder. His fingers reach the fresh bruise high on his chest. Somehow he seems to know that fact and squeezes. Niragi swallows thickly, holding back a sound of pain. Arata releases him and the rest of the group follows him. Karube watches after them until they’re far enough away, then turns back to sit down. Niragi stares at him. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice low and worried. Karube looks up at him.

“Eating lunch?” He replies, there’s a clear amused tone to his voice. Niragi’s mouth flattens into an unimpressed line. 

“You should stay away from me.”

“Why?”

“Those guys … they’ll starts bullying you too if you hang around me.” 

Karube huffs a short laugh: “I think I can handle them.”

“They’ll bully me worse because you’re protecting me. It’ll pissed them off.”

“Like I said, I can handle them.”

Niragi falls quiet. He picks around at his food, not really hungry any more. Karube’s quiet himself. He kicks his legs out under the table, his feet knocking against Niragi’s own. Niragi immediately pulls his feet away, tucking them under the chair. It’s a long few minutes of silence. 

“Why are you trying to help me?” Niragi asks quietly, glancing up at him. Karube’s gaze turns up to him and he shrugs. 

“Why not?”

After his last class, Karube rushes to leave, skirting around other students in the hall. At the doors out of the school, he peers out over the departing crowd until he spots Niragi. Hopping down the steps, Karube hurries off after him, soon falling into step at his side. 

“Hey,” he says, hiking his bag up on his shoulder.  

“Hi?” Niragi replies, confused. 

They keep walking along quietly for a few minutes before Niragi starts to eye him. 

“What are you doing?” He asks finally. 

“Walking you home.” 

A choked noise escapes Niragi, a slight pink flush blossoms up his throat. 

“W-what?”

“Those guys, they ambush you when you walk home, right?” Niragi pauses, then nods quietly. Karube nods back. “Right. So I’ll walk you home, then they can’t drag you down to the underpass. And if they try, well, I’ll be around to stop them.” 

“You really don’t have to -“

“It’s fine, I’m not busy.” His parents be damned; if all goes well, they should just be glad he’s not fighting. Against Karube’s insistence, Niragi relents, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be an easy task to get rid of him. 

They walk mostly in silence. Niragi doesn’t know what to say to this guy, he doesn’t even understand really why Karube’s helping him at all. Nobody else ever had, or they hadn’t cared enough to so much as try. Karube doesn’t even know him, but here he is. 

It’s not long before they’re getting close to the underpass and Niragi can see the group of guys waiting there. His shoulders tense and his hands grip tight around his backpack straps. Karube’s eyes focus in on them too, his lips curve into a frown. He steps around Niragi, putting himself between Niragi and Arata’s crew as they pass. Arata’s scowling from the second he sees the two together. 

“You can’t protect him every day!” One of the bullies calls after them and Niragi’s stomach sinks like a stone. Karube’s hand lands on his shoulder, keeping him walking forward. 

“Fuck off!” Karube hollers back, flipping them off over his shoulder without even looking back. 

Behind their backs, one of them lifts his arm to lob the baseball at the pair, but Arata stops him. 

Almost ten minutes later and they’re walking up to Niragi’s house. Karube pauses on the sidewalk, tucking his hands into his pockets. It’s a nice looking place, clean and well-tended, not that much bigger that Karube’s. Niragi turns back to Karube, chewing his bottom lip. 

“Are you going to be okay walking home? Those guys will probably be waiting,” he says, concern lacing his tone. If Karube got beat up because of him …

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Hell, if I can’t fight them all, I bet I’m at least faster.” His tone is utterly relaxed, like he’s not worried at all. He even shrugs. Tugging a hand out of his pocket, he gives a small wave, then turns to head off. “See you tomorrow, Niragi.”

“O-okay.”

Niragi stares after him, his brows creased as he watches Karube walk casually away. 

It continues like that for days.  

Karube sits with Niragi at lunch and doesn’t stress the silence or push for answers about things Niragi would rather not talk about; like why Arata targeted him or how long it’s been going on or the worst they’ve ever done to him. In the afternoons, Niragi or Karube wait by the front of the school for the other to arrive so they can walk together. 

For a while, Niragi worries that Karube will change his mind. That he’ll stop sitting with him or walking him home. That maybe he’ll see whatever thing that’s wrong with him that Arata sees. 

Arata watches with a deepening scowl the entire time and his crew grows antsy without their usual plaything to beat around. They’ve even stopped waiting around by the underpass, knowing there was no point when Karube was always around to guard Niragi. 

The cut above Arata’s brow is slow to heal, red and angry, and Karube gets a little thrill to see it; the wound’s a testament to his victory, and a reminder that Karube isn’t afraid to play dirty. 

Friday afternoon, it’s been almost two weeks since that first Monday at the underpass. Karube and Niragi are walking shoulder to shoulder towards Niragi’s home in comfortable silence. Casting his gaze sideways, Karube looks over him; he’s watched that bruise on Niragi’s face heal over the last two weeks. Better still, Niragi’s perked up a little, standing a little taller with less hunched-in shoulders; Karube’s even managed a smile - though small - out of him once or twice. 

He knocks his shoulder into Niragi’s. 

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Studying,” Niragi answers plainly. Karube laughs shortly. 

“You’re always studying.”

“I’m not the top of the class for no reason.”

“You should have some fun.”

“I don’t …” Niragi trails off, mouth slipping into a frown. On the weekends, he was a homebody. The bullying didn’t relent just because it wasn’t a school day. It was easier to just stay home and avoid risking being caught by Arata. He can’t remember the last time he’d had any genuine teenage fun. 

“What do you like? You know, there’s an arcade in town. A friend of mine, he used to like going to it, I was …” Karube drags a hand up the back of his neck, a surprising expression of embarrassment across his features, “I was never good at games like that.” 

Niragi hums quietly, thumbing at the strap of his bag. He did like video games, he even had a solid collection at home. 

“I don’t know why you’d want to hang out with me,” he confesses finally, “You protect me at school, which I already don’t get. I don’t know why wouldn’t just ditch me on the weekend, I would.”

“Well, believe it or not, but I don’t have a lot of friends either.”

“What about that one you just mentioned? The arcade -“

“We don’t talk. We haven’t in ages, since, like, middle school. He lives on the other side of town.” There’s a slight frown that etches itself onto Karube’s mouth, dark eyes forced forward on the path. There’s a pause, an uncomfortable silence. 

“Fine,” Niragi says, breaking it. 

“What?”

“Let’s go to the arcade this weekend.”

Karube smiles: “Okay.”

People weren’t wary of Karube anymore. Whatever initial fear they’d had of him due to rumours from his past school had died down over the last week. Unlike with Niragi, people actually spoke to Karube, most were even kind. They greeted him in the halls. Girls gossiped over him and giggled when he replied to their hellos. 

Niragi’s sitting at his desk. They’re all supposed to be studying. He can hear a girlish laugh from behind him. When he looks back, his mouth twists in a small frown. 

There’s a girl - Kazue - sitting beside Karube, sharing his desk. She’s leaning flush up against his arm, pointing to something in the textbook. There’s no reason for her to be sitting so close, Niragi thinks irritably, nor was there a reason for her to be giggling so much, nothing in the textbook was that funny. She’s pretty, which for some reason makes it more annoying to him. Karube doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s chatting quietly with her, leaning closer into her. He’s smiling. 

Niragi watches and feels a twinge of … something. He didn’t know the word for it, but it ached as much as it burned. 

Karube glances up, catching Niragi’s watching gaze. Immediately, Niragi whips back around in his seat and stares down at his book, though his eyes can’t focus on the words. His face burns with embarrassment at being caught. 

He can feel Karube’s gaze searing into the back of his head, until he can’t. He instantly missing the feeling, wishing Karube was still looking at him. 

He hears Kazue laugh again and his fingers clench hard around his pencil. 

Late afternoon on a Tuesday, Niragi invites Karube inside after they walked home. Karube had been complaining about the math homework earlier in the day and Niragi offered to help him study. He fumbled on calling it a ‘study date’, not meaning it the way it sounded, even as a blotchy flush burned his cheeks. Karube either didn’t notice or feigned ignorance to leave him with whatever dignity he had left. 

They’re sitting at Niragi’s dining room table, books spread out across the tabletop. Karube’s hunched over a textbook, frowning, his brow scrunching as he reads. They’ve been at it for almost two hours and Karube’s patience is clearly wearing thin if the sharp, quick tapping of his pen is anything to go by. 

“Have you ever considered going to a cram school?” Niragi asks. He’d been enrolled in one when he was younger, but after the bullying started he quit to just study at home. Karube huffs a laugh out through his nose and leans back in his chair as he rubs his tired eyes. 

“I was actually planning on dropping out after getting kicked out of my last school, but my parents wouldn’t let me,” he says, casual as ever. 

Niragi isn’t really surprised. Karube didn’t seem the type that really enjoyed school at all, nor did he seem to see any reason for it. Dropping out was exactly the kind of thing he expected from Karube, though Niragi doesn’t doubt he would still find some way to make it through life. 

It makes Niragi curious though. As much as they hadn’t actually talked about Niragi’s past of bullying, they hadn’t talked about why Karube had ended up at Niragi’s school in the first place. Shifting in his chair, Niragi toys with the page of his book. 

“Why did you get expelled from your last school?” He asks, tone a little cautious, as if worried about crossing a line he shouldn’t. Karube glances at him, brow quirking then relaxing as he glances away again. 

“Like you haven’t heard what everyone’s said about me,” he answers lazily, flicking his pen between his fingers. 

“Fighting?”

“Yep.”

“The people you were caught fighting, were they -“

“Bullies. A real bunch of douche bags. Not as tough as they thought they were, but apparently that worked in their favour since they still go to school there and I got kicked out.”

Niragi shifts in his chair again, nervous as he poses his next questions. 

“Do you … regret it? Do you wish you were still going there?”

Karube fixes him with a look, his gaze flicking over Niragi’s features, then he smiles in that way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“No.”

A warmth blooms in Niragi’s chest, a small smile growing on his lips as he turns his attention back to his textbook. 

Niragi’s late to lunch. He’d been held up talking to the teacher about part of the homework. By the time he’s heading out to the cafeteria, the halls are mostly empty. He’s moving quick, but he falters when he sees them. 

Arata’s crew, just down the hall and in his way. He comes to a full stop in the hallway. He can’t just walk passed them, there’s no way thye’ll just let him passed. Thoughts race through his mind, he considers just turning and walking away. He could explain to Karube later. 

His foot shifts a step back, but it’s too late. He’s already been seen. 

Arata’s pushing off the wall and heading towards him. Despite his want to run, Niragi can’t help but freeze in place. The smile on Arata’s face has that edge of cruelty that Niragi is all too familiar with. The group flank him on all sides, circling like hungry dogs. 

“Where’s your little friend now, huh?” Arata says. Niragi’s jaw locks, fear edging into his expression. Arata’s hand flies out to grab him by the front of his uniform, jostling him. The other four grin, Niragi can feel their eagerness like a sick aura engulfing him. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.” 

Arata starts to drag him, Niragi plants his heels in the ground. 

“Stop.” It doesn’t come out as loud as he wants, but he still says it. 

It makes Arata freeze. The grip on his shirt tightens, white-knuckling. 

“What did you just say?” He snarls, turning and leaning closer into Niragi’s face. Niragi fights against flinching. Arata’s other hand closes into a fist. There’s no teachers around, and his group would back up whatever he said happened; both him and Niragi know that. 

Niragi braces, waiting for the impact. 

Suddenly, a hand grips the back of Arata’s collar, wrenching him away. His hand is yanked from Niragi’s uniform, though not before jerking him forward into a stumble. When Niragi looks up, he finds Karube standing there, stepping in between him and Arata. 

His hands are curled into fists, shaking slightly. 

A thought hits Niragi; if Karube’s caught fighting, he’s probably going to get kicked out of this school too. It sends an icy feeling through Niragi. If Karube gets expelled, Niragi’s back to having no protection. 

The thought appears to occur to Karube too since he turns and takes Niragi by the arm, pulling him along down the hallway towards the cafeteria. 

“They didn’t do anything, did they? Are you okay?” Karube asks, voice tight. 

“Are you?” Concern laces Niragi’s tone, his feet stumbling from the quick pace Karube’s sets. 

Karube breathes out through his clenched teeth, his grip loosens on Niragi’s arm and his steps slowing. A shake of his head like he’s clearing his thoughts, then Karube’s familiar smile is coming back, aimed at Niragi. 

“Yeah, all good.”

He doesn’t say how worried he was when Niragi didn’t show up at lunch, or how that worry turned into white-hot anger when he saw Arata grabbing him. Even now, it burns under his skin. Even now, he wants to turn around and go swing a punch directly into Arata’s face. 

“You ever think of growing your hair out?” Karube asks one day. 

They’re sitting on the couch at Karube’s place. His parents aren’t home and they have the place to themselves. Niragi is the only one of the two actually studying, Karube had given up over a half-hour earlier and was leaning back laxly. Niragi looks up, freezing slightly when he feels Karube’s hand reach out and twist a strand of his hair around his finger. 

“Huh?” Niragi shakes out, tries to steady his heartbeat that has suddenly started pounding. 

“Yeah, like, if you grew it out, long enough to tie it back like,” Karube sits up, shifting closer to Niragi. In return, Niragi eyes him, curious but sitting still. Karube’s hands lift, carding through Niragi’s dark hair to pull it back from his face. A smile splits across his lips, Niragi’s hair is soft. “It’d look good on you.” 

A tingling sparks through Niragi’s scalp where Karube’s fingers had brushed through his hair. He almost trembles underneath the feeling. His heartbeat’s fluttering hummingbird-quick in his chest. He pulls out of Karube’s grasp, trying to force the flush out of his skin. 

“Shut up,” he answers, trying to keep his voice steady, adjusting his glasses like he could hide the pink in his cheek. Karube’s hands drop into his lap and he leans back into the couch, laughing. 

“I’m serious! You’d look good with longer hair. Plus if you tie it up, then you can’t hide behind it.” Karube lifts a hand to again tug on a strand of Niragi’s bangs that falls in his face. “You’re a pretty guy when you’re not hiding behind your hair, you know?” 

Niragi shoves his hand away, his face getting hotter. Karube has to just be teasing him now. 

“Will you just get back to studying?” 

Another laugh rumbles from Karube and he bumps against Niragi’s side as he sits back up to grab his textbook. 

“Whatever, pretty boy.”

Karube feels bad. He’s sure this isn’t something Niragi wouldn’t do if Karube hadn’t called him out. It’s late in the night. The both of them have snuck out. Well, Niragi snuck out. Karube stormed out after another argument with his parents; about his grades, about his actions, about his future. It’s close to driving him insane. 

He’s decided to find his relaxation in his dad’s beers that he’d stolen, and in Niragi’s company. 

They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, hidden away and hanging out about 15 minutes from Niragi’s place. The only light that have is from the street lamp on the street a few feet away and the moonlight. Niragi watches as Karube downs the last half of his second beer and quirks a brow, sipping at his own beer. 

“Your parents really got to you, huh?” He muses. Karube crumples his can, shoving it in his bag to dispose of later on his way home. 

“They’re just so fucking pushy,” Karube sighs out. He rakes his fingers over his scalp, through his short hair. Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts away. Picking up his third beer, he cracks it open. He bumps his shoulder up against Niragi’s with a smile. “You know, they should really be thanking you.”

Niragi’s brow scrunches, confused. 

“What for?”

“Well if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve dropped out already. You’re the only reason worth sticking around, Niragi.” 

Niragi blinks owlishly at him from behind his glasses. Karube notes the way the moonlight plays across his skin, catching on all the angles of his face. His dark hair is falling in his face again. Karube lifts a hand to push one side of his bangs out of the way of his glasses. 

In a flash, Niragi plunges forward and kisses him. 

Karube is too stunned to react. His hand is still hovering near Niragi’s face, the strand of hair slipping out from between his fingers. He can taste the beer on Niragi’s mouth. Niragi’s lips are soft against his. Karube doesn’t even have the chance to kiss back before Niragi pulls away. 

There’s a panicked, bordering on fearful, look in Niragi’s eyes. He jolts to his feet, accidentally knocking over his beer in the process. It clanks and fizzes, spilling out on the concrete. 

“Niragi -“ Karube starts softly. 

“I have to go.” Niragi cuts in quickly. His shoulders are tense, his hands are gripped into fists at his sides. 

“Wait, just -“

Niragi is running off before Karube can even get to his feet. 

Gathering up the beer cans, Karube stumbles home in a daze, lead along only by muscle memory. His mind is too full of other thoughts to really focus on getting home. He dumps all the cans of beer, full and empty, in a bin as he passes. 

Sneaking back inside his house, he’s moving like being drawn on a string all the way to where he dresses in his pyjamas and climbs into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

He can still feel Niragi’s lips on his all the way up until he falls into a fitful sleep. 

Karube walks to school with knots tied in his gut. All night after he got home, he tossed and turned, restless in his sleep. Part of him worries Niragi won’t be there today. He doesn’t want to have to go to his house. He’s not sure that Niragi would even open the door for him.

What was he supposed to say to Niragi? He’d run away last night before Karube could say anything. That scared look in Niragi’s eyes flashes through his mind and he almost flinches at the memory, rubbing his hand over his face. 

Did Niragi think Karube was going to hit him? 

That makes him feel sicker. 

Walking into the classroom, he sighs with relief seeing Niragi sitting at his desk. That relief is short lived though. As he walks over, Niragi doesn’t look up at him. His body is stiff and tense, hunched over a textbook, pointedly focusing on it. Karube’s steps falter. His brows pinch. There’s an aching in his chest. 

He forces his feet forward, forces himself to his chair and sits stiffly in it. His eyes settle on the back of Niragi’s head. He wishes Niragi would turn around, that he’d look at him, that he’d see Karube wasn’t angry or disgusted or whatever horrible assumptions are swirling in Niragi’s head. 

Niragi doesn’t look back even once. Karube can’t focus during any of his lessons all the way up to lunch. 

In the cafeteria, Karube walks up to table where Niragi sits alone. 

“Can I sit?” He asks. Niragi’s silent. “Can we talk about it? Later? When we’re walking home?” 

Niragi finally looks up. 

“You still want to walk with me?” He asks, his voice quavers. Karube’s brows quirk, surprised by the question. His gaze softens. 

“Yes. Of course.” 

Arata watches from across the cafeteria. Karube and Niragi, his biggest irritant and his punching bag. Karube’s obnoxious smug heroism pissed him off; worse was his influence that was rubbing off on Niragi. That little ‘stop’ rings in his head, an infuriating echo that he can’t block out. 

Who did Niragi think he was? He was nothing, a bug, supposed to be crushed under Arata’s foot and be crushed silently. Who was he to tell Arata anything? To tell him to ‘stop’? It’s Karube in Niragi’s head, Arata will force him out - by any means and he had many at his disposal. 

Arata’s got ideas, he’s been plotting for weeks. Karube can’t always be there to protect Niragi and Arata will strike when the time is right. 

Today, it seems that opportune time is turning it’s head. 

“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” He drawls out, head tilting as he watches the duo. They’d been acting oddly around each other all day. His group chortles. Arata sits up straighter, casts his gaze on his crew. “We do it this afternoon. Don’t fuck it up.”

By the last bell, Karube’s hurrying to pack his stuff away. Niragi’s standing quietly by his desk, fiddling with the strap on his bag. He crams the last book into his bag and swings it onto his shoulder, turning to start walking out of the classroom with Niragi when he almost runs into a girl. Rie, he thinks her name is, she’s one of the quieter girls who sits at the back of class on the opposite side of the room. 

“Hey, Karube, can I … talk to you?” She asks, her voice meek. Karube blinks, confused. They’d never spoken before. He only even knows her name because of the teacher calling on her. 

“Uh, sure?” Rie stares pointedly at Niragi and Karube sets a hand on his bicep, “I’ll meet you at the gate?” 

Niragi stares back at Rie, but soon relents, nodding stiffly and walking out of the classroom. Karube shifts his bag, looking back to the short girl. She seems nervous for some reason; her eyes flicker around, she gnaws her bottom lip. His stomach twists, he’s hoping this wasn’t a confession, he’s already got enough on his plate right now. 

“So? What is it?” He asks, antsy to get this over with. 

“It’s, um, Mister Seno, he w-wanted to see you. Something about your homework, I think …” she trails off. Her voice is tinny and small. She’s still looking around, not at him. Karube’s brows crease. Was she usually this weird? 

“Okay? Thanks?” 

Mr Seno was the math teacher. Niragi had been helping Karube study, so hopefully whatever Mr Seno wanted to see him about was good news. Hopefully, it would be quick. He turns heel, hurrying towards the door.

“Karube?” Rie calls after him. He pauses at the door, looking back at her. Her expression flickers, eventually it settles into something grim. “N-never mind.”

Weird. He just nods in reply and leaves. 

Niragi heads down the hall, frowning. What did Rie want to talk to Karube about? He’d never even seen them interact before and now she was so insistent on talking to him? And alone, no less? He sighs, pulling on bag strap. 

It gives him a chance to think about what he was going to say, at least. He’d been turning an apology over in his head since last night, he couldn’t even sleep. It didn’t help that he didn’t really regret the kiss. There’s a large part of him that wants to do it again. He can still recall the softness of Karube’s mouth, that ‘something’ taste beyond beer that he couldn’t place. 

He stops at the school gate, sighing and taking off his glasses so he can rub his hand over his face. What the hell was he supposed to say? Make an excuse that he was drunk? What if Karube didn’t want to be around him anymore, and this was the last time he’d be walking with Niragi? 

So distracted by his thought, he doesn’t notice people walking up to him until a hand is gripping his shoulder. Jolted back into reality, panic flares in Niragi’s eyes. Arata’s crew, but pointedly missing Arata. Cruelty shines on Saguchi’s face as he hooks his arm around Niragi’s neck.

“Looks like your little boyfriend isn’t coming, guess you’ll have to come with us,” Saguchi says. 

Niragi tries to struggle out of his grip and Saguchi responds with a punch into his side, making him wheeze and keel. 

Closing his hand over Niragi’s mouth, Saguchi starts to drag him back towards the school. Imaeda grabs his other arm to help pull him along. He feels someone grab at his bag and yank it off him, but he’s powerless to stop them. 

In a half-jog, Karube rushes down the hallway. Mr Seno should be at the teacher’s lounge if he’s even still here. It’s out of the way and Karube’s a little annoyed to have to rush across the school and away from the front gate where Niragi’s waiting for him. He makes it there soon enough and slows, taking a few breaths. 

Knocking, he steps inside, heading to Mr Seno’s desk and stilling by it. Mr Seno looks over, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he tapped a set of paper into a neat stack and slips them into his bag, clearly readying to leave for the day. 

“Yes, Karube?” He asks. Karube’s brow scrunches. Why did he seemed surprised if he’s asked for him?

“Rie said you wanted to see me,” he replies, a little confused, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his classroom. Mr Seno frowns. 

“I didn’t ask to see you.” 

What? His mind races. That weird look on Rie’s face, the mumbling, and apparently she’d been lying? What was her deal? He shakes it off. Forget it. He doesn’t have time for this right now. 

“Oh. Must have been a mix up then. Uh, see you tomorrow, Mr Seno.” He fumbles out quickly. Mr Seno stares after him, confused, as he rushes out of the teacher’s room. 

Karube all but sprints down the halls, hopping down the front steps and taking long strides over to the front gate. He stops to look around. Niragi’s not there. He frowns. Had Niragi left without him? The thought makes his stomach sink. He really needed to talk to him, to make him understand his side of it. His teeth worry at his bottom lip. 

Turning, he looks around, as if he’d missed Niragi waiting somewhere. Instead, he finds something else. 

Niragi’s bag, held in the hand of Ota, one of Arata’s lackeys. At Ota’s side is Kanemoto, the tallest in Arata’s group. Both are smirking. Ota swings the bag in hand, a taunt. Karube scowls. 

Ota and Kanemoto share a look, release cackling laughs, and then they’re running off around the far corner of the school’s front. Karube shucks his bag and jacket off, rushing after them with a shout to stop. 

Imaeda and Saguchi haul him along down the hallway. Niragi tries to plant his feet on the ground, tries to dig his heels in, but nothing works. They kick his legs out from under him, just keep yanking on him. Their fingers dig into him, he’s sure those alone will bruise. If he even gets out of this alive. 

Who knows what Arata has in mind. Niragi didn’t need to be a mind reader to know Arata must’ve been stewing in anger for the last few weeks. He’s had so much time to plan something hellish. 

They’re heading towards the old side of the school, the part that was closed off and being renovated. Students weren’t supposed to go there, but clearly Saguchi and Imaeda don’t care. It’s dingy and the old lights are dim and yellow. Niragi’s chest heaves, he can’t help the distressed sound escaping him that muffles into Saguchi’s hand. 

The duo haul Niragi into the old boy’s bathroom. The lights flicker above them, but that’s not that part that makes Niragi’s skin go cold. 

Arata’s leaned up against the sinks, flicking a lighter on and off. The small yellow flame underlights all the lines of his cruelly smirking face. He flicks the lighter off. 

Saguchi releases Niragi and Imaeda hauls him in front of Arata, shoving him down to kneel on the cracked tiles. His knees sting from the force of which they hit the ground. There’s an icy tremor that rocks down Niragi’s spine. Arata leans forward, clicks the lighter on right in front of Niragi’s face, close enough that Niragi can feel the sting of warmth on his nose. He tries not to flinch. 

“You know, I’ve had a lot of time to think, Niragi, and you really pissed me off,” Arata says, flicking the flame out. His tone is surprisingly smooth in a way that makes Niragi want to hurl. A calm Arata was never good, a calm Arata was exceedingly cruel. “But I finally figured out what I wanted to do. A fitting punishment, I think, for you talking back to me.” 

He reaches a hand into his bag that’s sitting in the sink beside him. Out of it, he pulls a long silver tool. It looks a bit like forceps, the ends shaped like loops. He clacks them in Niragi’s direction. 

“Did you know my cousin’s a piercer? I borrowed some stuff from him,” He says with a grin. 

Niragi wants to run, but Imaeda is still holding his shoulders, pinning him in place. Arata turns again, picking through his bag before pulling out a small plastic box. He flicks it open and pulls out a long hollow needle. Niragi shakes. Arata turns it in his fingers, then holds the needle out to Niragi, who just stares at it. 

“Take. It.” Arata’s tone is serious. Niragi’s still frozen. Imaeda kicks him in the side of his thigh. Niragi’s hand trembles as he reaches up to take the needle. He feels like he can’t breathe. This can’t be happening right now. He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to do, what Arata expects him to do. 

Suddenly, Imaeda’s hand wraps around the back on Niragi’s neck, holding his by the scruff. He crouches down beside Niragi and grabs his hand to hold it steady. 

“Shit. You know, I don’t think I brought any of that sterilisation stuff. This’ll work though, right?” Arata says, mock apologetic and waving the lit lighter around. 

Niragi whimpers. He can feel tears prickling behind his eyes. 

Imaeda’s hand grips his tighter, his fingers digging into his flesh, moving Niragi’s hand where Arata wanted it. Arata leans in, holding the flame over the needle. It’s too close to Niragi’s hand, he can feel the bite of the heat. If he has burns later, he wouldn’t be surprised. He struggles against Imaeda’s grip, but Imaeda’s stronger. 

Finally, Arata pulls the lighter away, putting the flame out. 

“Saguchi?” Arata says. Saguchi, who’d been standing by and watching, just nods. 

He crouches down at Niragi’s other side and grabs him roughly by the jaw. Digging his fingers into Niragi’s cheeks, he forces his mouth open. He hooks the fingers of his free hand into Niragi’s mouth over his bottom teeth, forcing his mouth open wider. It makes Niragi’s jaw hurt, like it’s going to break out of place. Niragi’s breath puffs out shakily. 

Arata plucks up the forceps again, clicking them, then shoves them in Niragi’s mouth to grab his tongue. He pulls Niragi’s tongue out passed his lips, clutching it tightly between the metal clamp. 

“Go on, Niragi, do it,” Arata orders. Niragi can hear Saguchi and Imaeda laughing beside him. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “Do it!”

Niragi doesn’t even feel the pain. He feels the pinch, tastes metal but he can’t tell if it’s the needle or blood. Maybe it’s adrenaline, some part of his brain registers that it hurts, but he’s panicking too much to feel it. 

“He actually fucking did it!” He hears Saguchi cackle out, but it’s muffled by his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Here, lemme give you a hand,” Arata says, his grin is all cruel white teeth. Niragi can barely see it. There’s black edging into his already tear-blurry vision. 

Arata jams a ball-headed piercing in the hollow end of the needle, then wretches it through. Niragi’s stomach jerks. He twists the other side of the piercing on, then tugs on the forceps, looking at the glint of silver between the blood. 

“Maybe you’ll think about this the next time you try to talk back to me,” Arata says coldly. He finally releases the clamp, then claps his hand roughly into the side of Niragi’s face. 

With a lurch, Niragi hunches forward and throws up. He didn’t eat lunch, so it’s all bile and blood. Arata, Saguchi and Imaeda all leap away from him, hurtling insults in disgust. Someone foot connects with his side. Niragi hears them laughing as they leave, the door swinging shut behind them. 

Still kneeling on the cold floor, Niragi sobs, his body heaving. The sounds echo around the room, engulfing him on all sides until it’s all he can hear. 

Karube’s fast. He always has been. Catching up with Ota and Kanemoto is easy; it’s made easier when they come to a complete stop. Ota drops Niragi’s bag aside. Kanemoto’s stretching out his arms. As Karube approaches, he rolls his neck, readying himself for a fight. 

Karube knows he shouldn’t. If a teacher catches them, he’s fucked. He’s got too many hits on his record. His parents will be pissed if he gets expelled again. 

Somehow, none of that matters to him right now. His chest heaves, more from the worried pounding of his heart than the chase. 

“Where’s Niragi?” He says, his voice sharp and serious. It’s the only warning they’re going to get, the only chance to answer him while they’re still uninjured. 

“You should’ve stayed out of our business. Whatever Arata’s doing to him now, it’s your fault,” Ota taunts. 

“Where is he?” Karube thunders. 

Neither answers. Kanemoto rolls his shoulders. Ota’s bounces on his feet, readying himself. 

If they wanted a fight, then a fight was what they were going to get. Karube’s hands close into fists and he’s landing a punch into Kanemoto’s jaw as the taller rushes towards him. 

It’s a two-on-one, but Karube’s not going down easy. It’s not the first time he’s had to hold his own against more than one opponent. He feels the battering of punches, but he keeps snapping back. Kanemoto’s tall and strong, but he’s slow; Karube knows the punches he lands are going to bruise terribly, they’re already aching. Ota’s short but quick, he kicks in the backs of Karube’s knees, trying to drop him. Karube stumbles, but doesn’t topple. 

Karube lands a solid elbow into Ota’s nose and feels blood spatter, staining the elbow of his shirt. Ota falls back with a yowl. Quickly, Karube slams his heel out into Kanemoto’s knee, hard enough to hear a crack and Kanemoto drops too, groaning and gripping his leg. 

Turning, he kneels and grabs Ota by the shirt, wrenching him up. Tears are welled in Ota’s eyes, there’s blood spilling out from behind the hand that holds his nose. Karube could care less if he’s broken the guy’s nose. Niragi had probably had worse done to him before by Ota’s own hands. 

“Where did Arata take Niragi?” He asks, lips peeled back in a teeth-baring snarl. Ota makes a pained noise, Karube shakes him roughly to refocus his attention. 

“The boy’s bathroom. Th-The abandoned one, in the older part of the school,” Ota fumbles out, blood dripping over his lips. 

Karube shoves him back to the ground. Standing, he glances at Kanemoto and then cracks a kick into his side for good measure, knocking him onto the ground too. Leaving them there, Karube scoops up Niragi’s bag and quickly rushes off. 

There’s panic rattling around in his chest. His feet pound on the ground as he runs. His body’s aching, but he barely notices it. All that’s running through his mind is getting to Niragi, hopefully in time before anything awful happens to him. 

Karube pauses in the hall of the old part of the school. His chest is heaving, his body aches. He hasn’t been in this part of the school. Which direction was the bathroom in? In a slow jog, he starts down the hallway. Niragi’s backpack swings in his hand. 

From far down the hall, Arata, Saguchi, and Imaeda stroll from around the corner, laughing amongst themselves. Karube’s eyes narrow into a glower. Rushing forward, he grabs Arata by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall. Arata doesn’t seem fazed beyond being slightly bothered that Karube’s wrinkling his uniform. 

“Where’s Niragi?” He snaps. Arata head turn to glance at his friend, the trio cackle. 

“Do you really want to waste your time beating us up? When Niragi’s waiting for you?” He asks, taunting. 

Karube’s shoulders tense. He wants to punch the smirk off Arata’s face. Instead, he pulls Arata forward to slam him back into the wall hard enough that his head bounces off it, then twists to throw him to the ground. He leaves Saguchi and Imaeda to fuss over Arata. Grabbing Niragi’s bag from where he’d dropped it, he hurries off down the hallway, his eyes scanning to find the bathroom. 

Finally he spies it and rushes to it, shoving the door open and stumbling inside. What he finds makes him feel sick. 

The lights are dim and flickering, casting everything in eerie dark shadows. There’s a pool of blood on the ground by the line of sinks. Something thin and metallic glints on the ground, covered in blood. Up against the far wall, Niragi is sat up and curled in on himself, his chin to his chest, his forehead resting on his pulled-up knees. His glasses are on the ground beside him.

Karube rushes over, crouching in front of him, setting the backpack on a clean part of the floor. His hands hover over, afraid to touch Niragi unless he hurts him. 

“Niragi. Fuck - what happened? Are you okay?” He asks, panicked. 

“Where were you?” Niragi’s voice wobbles out quietly. He doesn’t look up, curling tighter in on himself. 

The question is a stab to Karube’s heart. 

“I - I’m sorry, I -“ What could he say? What answer could possibly make it okay that he hadn’t been here to stop whatever Arata had done to him? 

Karube’s hands reach out to softly touch Niragi’s shoulders, sliding down over his biceps. Niragi’s entire body trembles with a wet sob. Finally, slowly, he looks up and Karube sucks in a sharp breath. 

There’s faint bruises dug in on his paled cheeks, and blood on his mouth, it’s smudged around where he’s clearly tried to wipe it off and only succeeded in smearing it. There’s wet streaks of tears down his cheeks, muddled with the blood. His dark eyes are rimmed red. 

“Fuck,” Karube whispers again, reaching a careful hand to Niragi’s cheek, swiping his thumb gently through the lines of tears and smudged blood. Niragi flinches under his touch. “What did they do to you?” 

The question brings another round of tears to Niragi’s eyes, they catch on his fluttering eyelashes. Slowly, Niragi opens his bloody mouth, sticking out his tongue. Sat right in the middle of it is a round piercing, surrounded by swelling, bloody flesh. The sight of it stuns Karube into silence. 

“They made me do it,” Niragi says, his voice barely above a whisper before cracking into a sob. 

Karube wants to kill them. 

“You should have just stayed away from me,” Niragi chokes out, wrenching out of Karube’s grasp and curling back in on himself. 

It stings. It stings because Karube knows he’s right. 

This is his fault. 

Gathering Niragi onto his feet, Karube’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say. Under the weight of the guilty, he can barely stand to look at Niragi. He forces himself to, he watches as Niragi cleans up his face as best he can in the old mirror. Under the flicking dim lights, he looks ghostly pale, it makes the new red bruises stand out. There’s blood staining into the white collar of his uniform. 

Karube feels sick. 

He wants to reach out, to try and give Niragi some kind of comfort, but he doesn’t want to make anything worse. He doesn’t even know if Niragi would let him touch him. His hand hovers slightly as they walk down the halls, ready to catch Niragi’s arm if he stumbles. At the school’s gate, Karube scoops up his own bag and jacket. 

They’re both silent for a long part of the walk towards Niragi’s home until Karube finally speaks up. 

“You should come stay at my place tonight,” he says. Niragi looks sideways at him. 

“Why?” His voice is rough and raw. 

“Do you really want your parents to see you like this?” 

Niragi sighs, touching his fingers to his aching jaw. 

“And maybe we can figure out something to do about the …” Karube trails off, glancing at Niragi’s mouth. 

“What about your parents?” 

“They won’t mind; and they won’t be home until late anyway, so you can get cleaned up before then. Besides, they like you, I would’ve dropped out without you, remember?” Karube tries to force a hint of humour into his tone, his smile pinched.

Niragi doesn’t reply, just casts his gaze on the ground in front of him as he walks. Karube wilts. The smile drops, his shoulders sink. They go back to walking in silence. 

Niragi’s standing in Karube’s bathroom. He’d called his parents and explained he’d be staying over Karube’s for the night. Now, he’s in the bathroom and the door’s locked and the lights are almost painful in their brightness. Karube had given him some clothes to change into and taken Niragi’s uniform shirt with the offer to try and get the blood out of the collar. It’s obvious Karube is fumbling to help in any way, struggling between giving Niragi space and crowding him. 

Finally alone, Niragi stares at himself in the mirror. He tugs his glasses off, setting them on the counter by the borrowed pyjamas. There’s a few light bruises on his skin, mostly where Saguchi had been digging his fingers into Niragi’s cheeks. His jaw still hurts, but not as badly as his tongue. 

He trembles. 

He doesn’t want to look. He knows he has to. 

With a shaky inhale, he steadies his hands on the counter, leaning towards the mirror. Opening his mouth, he stares in the dark maw for a moment before slowly poking it tongue out. A quiet noise escapes his at the sight. 

The piercing is sitting snug in the middle of his tongue, all around it the flesh is swollen and red. The whole walk to Karube’s house he could feel the piercing hitting the roof of his mouth and against his teeth. He feels like he’s going to be sick again. 

Tongue ducking back in, he claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the sobs rushing up his throat. He doesn’t want Karube to hear him crying again. Sinking to the ground, he feels hot tears spilling down his cheeks, settling against his fingers. He trembles all over. 

What had he ever done to Arata? Why did Arata hate him so much? What did Arata see in him that was so twisted that he deserved this? 

After a few minutes, he pulls himself together. He wipes his tears away, sniffling quietly. When he stands, he glances in the mirror again. His face is blotchy and red and bruised. 

He showers, dresses, then takes a breath at the door before stepping out. 

Karube can’t stay still. Niragi is closed up in the bathroom. Left to himself, he paces back and forth. He’d already cleaned out the blood from Niragi’s shirt and thrown it in the wash, and made up a futon on the ground beside his own bed. Now, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help Niragi. This wasn’t a baseball to the face or simple punches. They’d made him pierce his own tongue. Then they’d just left him there. On the ground. In some shitty, dark school bathroom. They’d been laughing about it. 

He rakes in nails over his scalp. Ota’s words bounce around his skull. 

‘Whatever Arata’s doing to him now, it’s your fault.’

Karube had been beating up Ota and Kanemoto while they were doing that to Niragi. 

‘It’s your fault.’

He hadn’t been there. Niragi had needed him and he hadn’t been there. Niragi was hurt and Karube hadn’t been there. 

‘Your fault your fault your fault your fault.’

He presses his face into his hands, crumpling onto the couch. He needs to put his mind elsewhere, he needs to be thinking of someway to help Niragi. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sucks in a deep inhale, then sits up to drag his laptop closer. 

When Niragi leaves the bathroom about ten minutes later, Karube is frowning. Everything he’s been reading hasn’t been all that good. He glances up when Niragi steps out, and closes his laptop with a short clack. 

“Are you …” No, obviously he’s not ‘okay’ on the typical sense, how could he be? Karube corrects himself quickly, “Do you feel okay? Does it still hurt?” 

Niragi’s tongue shifts behind his teeth, there’s a small pang of pain whenever the piercing bumps against any part of his mouth. He grimaces slightly, then just shrugs. Karube nervously rubs his hands together. 

“I was,” he swallows, clearing his throat and nodding towards his laptop, “I was looking some stuff up and I - I don’t think it’s a good idea to remove it right now.” 

Niragi just nods silently, but Karube can see how his shoulders droop. It makes Karube’s chest ache.

Dinner’s awkward. Both Karube and Niragi are quiet through the whole thing. If Karube’s parents notice the light bruises on Niragi, they at least don’t ask. Seeing the twinge of pain every time Niragi talks, Karube makes the excuse that they’re tired from school so his parents will stop asking Niragi polite questions. 

They head off to Karube’s room shortly after dinner. 

Niragi lies down on the futon, curling up under the covers. Karube stares at him, sighing quietly as he flicks the light off, mumbling a ‘good night’ as he climbs into his own bed. 

He can’t sleep. He’s just lying in the dark. From the sound of it, Niragi can’t sleep either. He shifts around, Karube can hear the rustling of the covers. There’s a quiet noise, an almost-silent pained whimper. Karube wonders if it’s because of his mouth or if they’d beat him up too while Karube wasn’t there. 

Ota’s voice enters his head again, whispering blame. Niragi’s voices joins it. 

‘Your fault’. ‘You should have just stayed away from me’. ‘It’s your fault!’

There’s a prickling behind his eyes that he tries to blink away. His jaw sets tight. Glancing over as he hears Niragi moves again, he finds the other facing away from him. 

Karube slips down from his bed, onto the futon behind Niragi. He wraps his arms around him and presses his face into the back of Niragi’s neck. 

“I’m sorry.” Tears sting in Karube’s eyes. His words come out choked, half a sob. “I’m really sorry.”

He feels Niragi tremble, then a hand comes up to grip his wrist, holding tightly to it. Karube hugs him tighter, shaking. 

They both eventually fall asleep slotted up against each other, their sobs slowly subsiding into even sleeping breaths. 

“We could just skip today,” Karube offers as they get dressed in the morning. He’s sitting on his bed with his shirt unbuttoned, pulling his socks on. Niragi’s shirtless himself, leaning against Karube’s desk, examining his uniform collar for any stray specks of blood. Karube can’t help himself but to stare a little; he spies some bruises, dug into his shoulders and his side. A small frown pulls at his lips. 

“We shouldn’t,” Niragi answers, his voice still a little rough. He doesn’t say that he’s never skipped a day, even when he was sick. Pulling his shirt on, he looks down as he’s doing up the buttons, pointedly not looking at the smooth expanse of skin Karube had bare. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell someone? A teacher?” 

“It won’t help. It never has.” Niragi sighs. “It just makes things worse, Arata will just think up some new way to punish me for it.”

Karube wants to say that he won’t let Arata hurt him, but he’d already failed once, how can he promise that with any sort of confidence? It re-lights a guilty feeling in his chest. 

Niragi finishes buttoning up his shirt, then moves to reach a hand up to his mouth. Karube leans out to grab his wrist before he can. 

“You shouldn’t touch it. Just … try and leave it alone.” 

“It feels weird,” Niragi complains, but drops his hand away. 

“I know, but you just need to leave it alone for a few weeks to heal then you can take it out.” Karube’s thumb strokes over Niragi’s wrist before he lets go. 

Niragi turns, picking up Karube’s jacket and passing it to him before grabbing his own. 

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” 

The thought of going to school seems to loom more terrifyingly to Karube than it does to Niragi. His steps are slower. Maybe if they’re going to be late anyway, he can try again to convince Niragi to just skip for the day. 

He doesn’t want to see Arata and his group. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he does. Half of him wants to react with anger and beat them all into pulp, the other wants to stay as far away from them as possible and keep them far away from Niragi. 

“You know, we never actually got to talk about … it,” Niragi says, breaking the silence. He doesn’t look fully at Karube though, just glances for a moment out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the path. He swallows thickly, then continues quietly, “About the kiss.”

Oh. Right. With everything else that had happened, it had slipped his mind. Karube reaches out to catch Niragi’s hand to slow him to a stop. Niragi stills, but blinks nervously at Karube from behind his glasses. 

“I wasn’t mad when you kissed me. I was just surprised. It was … nice, and I do … like you.” He tries to pick his words carefully, “But if it was just a drunk mistake, if you regret it -“

“It wasn’t - and I don’t.”

“O-oh. Good.” A small smile pulls on Karube’s lips, he can feel the tingling warmth of a blush over his cheeks. 

“So can I … kiss you again then?” Niragi asks. Karube’s smile drops slightly, “I mean, we don’t have to.”

“No, I want to!” Karube jumps in, then settles, quieting again, “It’s just - the piercing. I read kissing can risk infection, so …”

“Right,” Niragi sighs, moves to keep walking. Karube still hasn’t let go of his hand and pulls him to stop him again, an idea popping into his head.

“Wait.”

He lifts a hand to Niragi’s cheek, pulling him in close so Karube could press a short kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he pulls back, it’s not very far, still close. He can’t help the smile that grows on his face, especially as he spies the soft look in Niragi’s eyes. 

“Good enough?”

“Couple of weeks until it heals, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Good enough then.”

They don’t end up skipping school, even though Karube broaches the option once more before they reach school. At the school gate, they pause for a moment. Karube’s stomach turns. He wants to grab Niragi’s arm and pull him away from the place. Arata’s in there with his group, none of them facing any consequences for what they’d done. The mere thought makes Karube bristle. His hands are bruised from the fight with Ota and Kanemoto and they sting when he closed them into shaky fists. 

Niragi grabs his hand, around his fist. Karube exhales slowly, shaking his head clear. 

“You seem more freaked out than I am,” Niragi says. 

“They tricked me. And they hurt you.” His lips tremble into a frown. “It’s my fault, I should’ve been there to stop them before -“ His voice breaks off and he grinds his teeth, huffing out another breath. 

“It’s not your fault.” Niragi squeezes his hand. “It’s not. Arata’s smart, he planned this. I think he thought he could kill two birds with one stone; punish me and hurt you by doing so.”

“He was right.” 

Niragi’s expression softens slightly, Karube was really blaming himself for this. It was still hurting him. His mind drags up the memory of Karube sobbing into the back of his neck, his trembling arms wrapped tight around Niragi; he shakes it off and elbows Karube in the arm. Karube looks at him as he rubs his arm, his brows scrunching in confusion at the sudden hit. They both need to pull it together. 

“Don’t let him get to you. He’ll just find a way to use it against you and then we’re both fucked.” Niragi knows how Arata’s mind works. If he spies some point of weakness, he’s going to abuse it. Karube nods, taking a breath, expression shifting into something more determined. 

He’d failed Niragi once. He was going to make sure it didn’t happen again. 

It gets easier to ignore Arata and his group as days pass. Karube and Niragi fall back into routine. For a while, Karube keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Arata to throw some new plan in motion and Niragi to end up hurt again. Arata and his lackeys keeps their distance, Karube makes sure of it. 

He on such high alert for so long, his body’s starting to ache under the tension. He only finds any kind of calm when he and Niragi are alone. There’s something of shift with them. They sit a little closer together, leaning in to keep their conversations private, grinning to themselves; Niragi’s hand often finds his, especially when they walk home together; since the piercing is still healing, they can’t really kiss, but Karube finds away around it, pressing kisses to Niragi’s jaw and neck and hands and wherever else he can reach; Karube calls him ‘pretty boy’ and Niragi rolls his eyes, shoving him, but can’t hide his smile. 

Slowly, Niragi adapts to the piercing. It doesn’t hurt as much and he doesn’t knock it against his teeth as often. The swelling of his tongue goes down. Sometimes, he finds himself looking at it in the mirror, watching the light glint off it’s surface as he slides his tongue over his bottom lip. 

They’re crammed up together on Karube’s bed. Niragi’s pushed down against the mattress, Karube’s on top of him. He doesn’t know at which point he lost his glasses, but they’re not on his face. Music plays lowly from a stereo on Karube’s desk, but Niragi isn’t really being paying attention to it. It’s hard to pay attention to anything other than Karube’s mouth. 

Niragi’s hands finds purchase in the fabric of Karube’s shirt. Karube mouths over his jaw, lapping down the side of his neck. His hands slips under Niragi’s shirt, straining the fabric thin and smoothing his warm palms up Niragi’s sides. A quiet moan escapes Niragi. 

“Still won’t kiss me, huh?” He shakes out. Karube pulls back from where he’d been sucking a mark into Niragi’s neck, breathing roughly. 

“Do you want an infection?” 

Niragi whines in complaint, tugging on Karube’s shirt. Karube just chuckles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s nice but it’s not enough, Niragi wants to kiss him, wants to be kissed by him. 

Eventually, they wear themselves out. There’s a short line of dark hickeys over one side of Niragi’s collarbone, barely obscured by his unbuttoned shirt. Karube’s own shirt is half-unbuttoned and wrinkled at parts from Niragi’s gripping hands. 

Panting to try and catch his breath, Niragi’s staring up into the ceiling. Karube’s rolled off him to lie next to him. Their hands are close together but neither have reached out to intertwine them. Niragi draws in a deeper breath, gathering confidence to verbalise the thoughts that have been swirling in his mind for over a week. Now or never, he decides. 

“Does it make me crazy if I want to keep it?” He asks softly. His tongue shifts behind his teeth, he presses the piercing up against the roof of his mouth. Karube’s quiet; his fingers shift, the backs brushing against Niragi’s knuckles. 

“It’s up to you if you want to keep it or take it out.” 

Niragi glances sideways at Karube. 

“Do you hate it?” 

Karube sighs quietly, then turns to face him. 

“I hate what they did to you. But, the piercing … I think I’m getting use to it. I guess. I don’t know.”

Niragi’s hand shifts, tangling his fingers with Karube’s. It’s a non-answer, but Karube doesn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so Niragi relaxes again, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. After a beat and with a short hum, Karube shuffles closer, bumping their shoulders together. 

“Do you know who’d hate that you like it?”

A small smirk twists to Niragi’s face. 

“Arata?”

Karube laughs, leaning his head next to Niragi’s. 

“He’d be pissed if it didn’t torture you like he wants it to.” 

There’s a laugh that threatens to slip passed Niragi’s lips, he turns his head to hide it, but squeezes Karube’s hand. Karube huffs another short laugh, his eyes crinkle at the corners. Their giggles soon slow and they fall back into a comfortable silence, still holding hands. 

It occurs to Niragi when they’re walking home one day … or, well, he’s going to pretend it simply occurs to him now. Glancing around, he checks to make sure they’re alone. The streets are pretty clear, the sun is setting in the distance. As two students walking around this time of the afternoon, they don’t draw much attention. 

Niragi hums, glancing sideways at Karube. 

“You know, it’s been almost four weeks,” he says, as if it’s just popped into his head, like he hasn’t been counting down the day. Karube quirks a brow at him, curious. “My piercing’s pretty healed by now.” 

“Oh, really?” There’s a small twitch of a smile on Karube’s lips. Niragi isn’t as sly as he thinks. 

“You could kiss me now.” 

“Huh, guess so.” 

Karube keeps walking along, though his eye flicker quickly to their surroundings; clear and empty. Beside him, Niragi pouts slightly. Karube can’t help but laugh. 

He catches Niragi by the elbow, pulling him in to kiss him. Niragi’s hand slides up his chest to his neck, fingertips sliding over the short hair at his nape, pulling him in closer. There’s no taste of beer, but his lips are still as soft as the first time. The flick of Niragi’s tongue is shock enough, drawing a noise out of Karube, but the surprise is added to by feeling of his piercing. 

Niragi grins against his lips. Karube just melts into it, pulling him in closer.