Chapter Text
(KAORU)
Boring… Boring… Boring…
In the weeks following that Full-Swing Kiss, it was the only word that echoed in Kaoru’s mind. His road to recovery was rocky because his restless nights led him down all sorts of stupid adventures, all in an attempt to silence that voice in his head.
Boring… Boring… Boring…
He got what he wanted. He got his beef with Adam. He got his answer. It was the answer he was expecting… but not the one he hoped for.
Ainosuke never cared for Kaoru.
Kaoru was nothing more than a pair of eyes to behold Adam’s magnificence. To wish for something more, for something equal , was foolish. All those years ago, when Kaoru reached out to try and touch excellence, his wretched hand was swatted away.
This time when he reached out again, it wasn’t to touch excellence but to save someone he thought was lost. But this time, the rejection was much more visceral and yet somehow even emptier than before.
Boring, boring, boring, boring…
Kaoru never cared about his reputation at S. He wasn’t concerned with what fellow skaters thought of him; the best of the best, the worst of the worst. It was all the same to him.
No, his sights were set on one man and one man alone. Whether that was out of revenge or redemption, Kaoru never stopped to question. Kaoru worked himself to the bone to make something of himself, yet he was still nothing to Adam. Realization slammed into his face at the same moment Adam’s skateboard did; he was delusional.
And the one person who stuck with him all this time, Kojiro, had a front-row seat to Kaoru’s harsh snap back into reality. After sticking by his side through this borderline unhealthy obsession, he witnessed Kaoru’s failure. That was the worst humiliation of all.
Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring…
And now the rest of the world was moving on from the incident like nothing ever happened. Meanwhile, Kaoru’s world had come to a screeching halt, and he’s been running at full speed, trying to get it spinning again.
Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring —
“Hey.” Joe’s voice broke over the cacophony in his mind, deep and mellow, bringing him back to reality. Kaoru blinked and looked over at his friend, like he’d just realized he was there, even though they’ve been sitting across from each other in this booth for the past half hour.
It was a refreshing sight; Kojiro was still in his apron, dusted with flour and cornmeal, forehead a little shiny with sweat, hair frizzy from steam. His expression was complicated, but the subtle wrinkle between his brow complemented his big, round puppydog eyes perfectly.
“What?” Kaoru asked, feigning cluelessness. Joe clearly didn’t buy it.
“You were spacing out there. Do you still have a concussion? You’re not having a post-traumatic stroke, are you?” He waved his big, calloused hand in front of Kaoru's face.
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Kaoru said flatly, training his eyes down on the half-eaten tiramisu in front of him.
“Yeah, it is. I looked it up that night you hobbled out of the hospital and passed out on my bar.” Joe grinned, looking proud of himself, and held up four fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Stop trying to sound smart. It’s not doing you any favors.” Kaoru sniffled and poked at the tiramisu with disinterest. “And wipe that dopey grin off your face.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely fine,” Joe muttered, dropping his hand. “Still an asshole.”
“Happy to set your mind at ease…” Kaoru jeered, voice trailing off and eyes drifting to the window to watch passing headlights.
Even Joe had moved on from the incident. For the first couple of weeks, he oscillated between a fiery rage and a timid concern. It was weird, almost unbearable, but still… now that Joe seemed to go back to normal, Kaoru couldn’t help but grieve the loss of that undivided attention.
He couldn’t blame Joe for snapping out of it, though. Kaoru kept insisting that he was fine. Even when Joe pulled him aside and tried to have itchy heart-to-hearts about it, Kaoru squirmed and fled with nothing more than a, “Stop being so dramatic,” before Joe could get a single word out. It must have been exhausting to keep getting brushed off like that.
“See, you’re doing it again,” Joe announced, cutting off his train of thought.
Kaoru blinked. “Doing what again?”
“Jesus! You’re spacing out so hard that you don’t even know you’re spacing out!? That shit’s crazy.” Joe sneered at him, waving his fork in his face. “Did you even hear a word I said?”
“...”
“That’s it!” Joe threw his hands up and slid out of the booth, taking the tiramisu off of the table. “I dunno why I even bother with you, douchebag.”
“Hey, I wasn’t done with that!”
“You are now, bitch!” He punctuated his declaration with a mouthful of the dessert. Kaoru wasn’t invested enough in the food to fight it any further, but he glared at Joe anyway, eyes tracking him until he disappeared into the kitchen…
Then he slumped.
Not only was his work suffering from his distracted mind, but he was running Joe through the wringer, too. Joe would never admit to getting his feelings hurt, but he’s known the man long enough to know that he was holding something back. Whether that was frustration or sadness, it was hard to tell. His insults were less creative than usual. That’s how he could tell something was off.
Kojiro was the last person he wanted to take for granted… but still, here he was, doing exactly that. Even after everything he’s done for Kaoru lately, he still sat here in his restaurant, ate his food, and spaced out like Joe wasn’t even there. His kindness, his generosity, his seemingly endless supply of boyish positivity. Kaoru was soaking it all in like a bottomless pit, never satiated. And Joe kept giving and giving. And Kaoru kept taking and taking.
God… Kaoru was awful, wasn’t he?… Could it be that Adam was right to cast him aside? As much as he and Joe rip on Adam for being a lonely bastard, wasn’t Kaoru quickly hurtling himself down that path? If he kept this up, Joe might just walk away from him, too –
Kaoru felt his heart wrench. He placed his hand over his chest in a slight panic at the very real pain in his chest, thinking it might be a medical emergency. He felt a bit of a cold sweat. His eyes darted around the room. He wondered if he should call out to Joe… but eventually the feeling passed. His heart continued to pound in his ears, but the clenching pain subsided. That’s when it dawned on him.
The pain of losing Adam was a dull, persistent ache, but even so much as the idea of losing Kojiro felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest; if that happened for real, it might be lethal.
“K-Kojiro! — …” Kaoru blurted his name without even thinking. He didn’t even know what he would’ve said. ‘Please don’t leave me’ ? The humiliation would never stop if he said something like that. He slapped his hand over his mouth with a frown as he heard Joe’s voice call back from the kitchen.
“What!? Need help in the bathroom, princess?”
“!!!” Kaoru shivered, but his face was on fire. Joe was only joking, but he couldn’t help it. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, unsure if it was rage or misguided humiliation he felt. “Nothing!” He blurted again. “I’m leaving!”
He hesitated. But after hearing no response from Joe, he felt he had no choice. He slid out of the booth and stomped out of the restaurant with his head bowed.
Why did he always do this!? Why did he always push away the people who cared about him!? Why did he defend that iron wall around himself with such a sharp tongue? Was it because he was afraid Joe would eventually see what Adam saw in him? Or was it more than that?…
~~~
(KOJIRO)
Joe heard the front door bell jingle, and the restaurant fell into a heavy silence. He took in an impossibly deep breath and let it all out with one long sigh.
“Oh, Kaoru…” Why was it that every time he spoke Kaoru’s name, it sounded more and more sentimental? He either breathed it with a sense of nostalgia or he cast it out with remorse. “Guess tiramisu isn’t your favorite…”
Regretfully, he wrapped the unfinished dessert and put it on the top rack of the fridge. He stared at it for a few seconds before closing the fridge door, moving to turn off some appliances and lock the back door, the usual closing duties.
Kaoru lies. Joe knows that. It may not be so obvious, especially not on the surface, but Joe sees through Kaoru’s lies in an instant. He didn’t exactly have a method for it. Sometimes it was the way his eyes moved. Sometimes it was a subtle change in his voice. Sometimes it was just a hunch. But any time he called Kaoru out on it, he always ended up being right.
But the strange thing was, Kaoru never lied about anyone but himself. He never lied about Joe’s food, for example. He never once pretended to enjoy something just to avoid hurting his feelings. He’s never lied about anyone he didn’t like to hurt their reputation, either. None of that. No. His biggest lie, and his favorite one to tell, was “I’m fine.”
And Joe had no idea what to say to it.
He locked the front door and jingled the keys, whistling to himself. Normally this was where he and Kaoru would part. Kaoru’s place was in the opposite direction from his. Joe would offer to walk Kaoru home, and Kaoru would slap his arm with his fan and tell him to stop being a creep, and Joe would laugh… But since Kaoru stormed out early, Joe left the restaurant alone. The silence was a little weird.
Maybe he shouldn’t have called attention to it. Maybe he could have been more tactful with how he snapped Kaoru out of his trance, knowing that he was going to play it off like nothing happened anyway. But he just couldn’t help it. The look on Kaoru’s face was… well, it just hurt to see. Joe always felt a selfish desire to be the one to cheer Kaoru up, but it always fell through. Tonight was no different. Joe just had a penchant for saying exactly the wrong things.
However, it wasn’t always like this. Back then it seemed like Joe always knew the right thing to say. He’d snap a quick joke, lay a witty insult, do a silly voice, say something crass, and Kaoru would crack a smile on the spot. Sometimes he didn’t even have to try – he’d say something stupid without realizing it was stupid, and Kaoru would lose his mind. Making Kaoru laugh was easy and even thrilling. It was his favorite hobby, honestly.
Kaoru doesn’t laugh anymore.
Now it felt like everything he said only made Kaoru more upset, and each failure hurt worse than the last. But he kept trying despite himself. He didn’t know what else to do other than try. At the very least, making Kaoru angry seemed to help him snap out of his depressive state, so... maybe it wasn’t a total failure.
He wanted to blame Adam for everything. Before he came into their lives, things were great. Joe and Kaoru were close, Kaoru was always smiling, yelling, laughing, drawing, singing. When Adam entered the scene, sure, it seemed like Kaoru was having the time of his life, but at what cost? Whatever happened between those two before Adam disappeared, it shattered Kaoru. After that, some of the pieces of him were lost, and he was never fully put back together. Kaoru chopped off his hair and fell into his own little world where nothing mattered except for his art and his studies. All that mattered to him after that point was perfection.
But where was Joe? If he was so great, why couldn’t he be the one to put Kaoru back together with the pieces he had left? Why did he chicken out every time he had to step up and say something helpful or meaningful at the time? Why did he walk away from Kaoru and not say a word to him throughout college? Why was he keeping Kaoru at arms length when he knew he could be doing more? If only he manned up and pushed through that awkwardness, maybe they wouldn’t be here right now, walking away from each other in hostile silence so late at night.
He stared at his phone as he walked back to his apartment. The sidewalk was empty, the streets were quiet, and Joe was reeling in his head with his thumb hovering over the send button of a message asking Kaoru if he made it home safe. Was it too pushy? Too presumptuous? Did he even wanna see Joe’s name at all right now?
Just before he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and press send, a new notification popped up from the top from a girl he saw pretty often.
Izumi: you off work yet?
“...” He tapped on the banner and began typing, only stopped walking for half a second so he didn’t trip.
Joe: you lookin’ pretty for me?
Izumi: Why don’t you come find out?
Joe: You’re inviting trouble, girl.
Izumi: That was the plan ;P
Joe stared at the exchange for a moment before sliding his phone back into his pocket. For some reason, Izumi liked catching him right after work when he smelled like olive oil and sweat. Joe wasn’t sure how that was appealing, but he wasn’t gonna question it. It was a distraction.
Distractions were good.
Distractions were what he needed.
But why did he keep looking away from the problems right in front of him? Was it because he was afraid he’d say the wrong thing and become the same jerk he saw Adam to be? Or was it something else?…