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It feels like Kenta’s whole world is spinning.
He can hardly believe what just happened—but it definitely did happen. He wasn’t imagining it: Kim just grabbed him and put himself in between Kenta and that tree branch. Twice.
Once might be written off as a fluke, a mistake, because who in their right mind would ever think to get Kenta to safety first? But twice, no, twice is deliberate. Twice is the start of a pattern. Twice is so unbelievable that Kenta would write it off as some stupid daydream if he weren’t absolutely one hundred percent sure that it actually happened.
Kim doesn’t even appear fazed. He’s sweating, of course, from the fight and holding the guy down, but otherwise he’s his normal no-nonsense self. There’s been no reproach from him at all. He’s not telling Kenta that he’s stupid and useless for not managing to get himself to safety without Kim’s help. And rationally, Kenta knows that Kim wouldn’t say that, he’s not that kind of person, but knowing and believing are two very different things. Deep down, Kenta is sure that he’s going to be told off. That he’s going to be hit and yelled at and called names for being so useless.
But Kim is just… walking to the car like he normally does. Wiping his forehead and making a stupid joke about the heat, the way he usually makes weird unfunny jokes. Smiling at Kenta before getting in the car like Kenta deserves a smile.
There’s another side to this thing, of course: the fact that Kenta’s heart is beating stupidly fast at the inevitable conclusion that Kim was protecting Kenta simply because he wanted to do so. Kim was protecting Kenta without demanding anything in return, without insults, without threats, without any strings attached, because he thought that Kenta was worth protecting.
Nobody else ever thought Kenta was worth protecting. Kenta himself never thought he was worth protecting.
Kenta is rather slow getting into the car, his mind is spinning.
He needs to focus. They just found out where Tony’s lab might be hidden, Kenta needs to get his head on straight, but somehow, that is incredibly difficult right at this moment.
He remembers the conversation they had with Alan, how Kim said that Kenta was making himself miserable.
"Do you think talking about it would help?"
Kim takes his eyes off the road for a moment to narrow his eyes at Kenta, then turns his head forward again.
"Talking about what?"
Kenta shrugs, now also stubbornly staring at the road.
"Stuff," he mumbles, already feeling like he said too much, "everything in general."
"Yes, I think talking helps," Kim says rather neutrally, like he’s trying not to sound sarcastic, "in general."
Kenta nods, but says nothing else. What could he even say?
"Do you want to talk about anything specific?"
"No," Kenta answers immediately.
If he wanted to tell Kim anything, where would he even start? It all seems like a huge mess to untangle, and Kenta is glad he never has to think about any of it too hard, as long as he keeps a tight rein on his own thoughts. He would have to think about it in order to tell Kim.
"Of course," Kim says, and now there is a little smile playing about his lips, but it’s not a mean sort of smile. More like a fond one. "Can you check the map again?"
Kenta nods and gets out his phone: giving Kim directions is way easier than worrying about having to talk about anything substantial. It feels good, too. Kim is following Kenta’s directions without complaint and Kenta feels like he’s actually doing an okay job of this, like he’s being useful. Kenta keeps being surprised that they make such a good team—he used to be convinced that he was doomed to work alone forever.
**
In the evening, when they’re sitting in the living room together, Kenta unable to focus on the documents on his iPad and Kim blowing on his hot tea, words fall out of Kenta’s mouth, almost against his will.
"He kept me chained up in a closet for two days once, when I was a kid."
"Wait, what?" Kim looks up from his cup of tea, staring at Kenta with a horrified expression, and that alone makes Kenta not want to say anything else. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity and he for sure doesn’t want Kim’s pity. He would much rather Kim were proud of him for being so strong back then. When his father let him out, he didn’t even cry.
"Never mind," Kenta mumbles, pretending to focus on his notes again.
"Why?" Kim asks forcefully, not like his usual collected self at all, and Kenta feels the irrational urge to defend his father’s parenting choices.
"He told me to hurt another kid and I couldn’t do it," Kenta admits. "I could do it afterwards though, so the method worked, I guess."
He still remembers the terrible sound of that boy’s arm breaking, the first bone he ever broke. It almost made him throw up back then. His father nodded and said, Well, guess there is potential in you after all. It was one of the few times Tony ever said anything so kind.
Kim is swearing under his breath in Korean. Kenta has never seen him looking so angry. That makes sense, he thinks, people tend to get angry at him no matter what he does. Being yelled at is familiar territory, at least.
But instead of yelling at him, Kim asks, "Didn’t anyone try to help you?"
That throws Kenta for a loop. What kind of a question is that?
"Help me how?"
"Didn’t you grow up together with Pete? Why didn’t he help you?"
Now, that’s just unfair.
"He couldn’t! You don’t understand what it was like living in that house!"
Kenta doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly shouting, why his hands are shaking so much that he can barely keep the tablet from falling to the floor. He feels terrible about it immediately, but the damage is done, Kim is going to berate him now for sure.
"No, you’re right," Kim says quietly. "I don’t understand. I’m sorry."
Once again, that is the absolute last thing Kenta expected him to say. He can’t help but stare at Kim, completely stumped on what is happening here.
After a moment of silence, he says, "I’m sorry for yelling."
Kim takes a sip of his tea, seemingly deep in thought.
"Did that happen often?" he asks then, rather gently.
"What? No, of course not. The closet was just one time."
It was definitely the worst out of all the punishments, though, so Kenta is glad he won’t have to talk about it again. Maybe that’s what Kim meant when he said that talking would help. He can tell with one look at Kim’s face that Kim is not getting it at all.
"It’s really fine," he says, embarrassed at taking up so much of Kim’s time with his childhood nonsense, "he usually just hit me, or let someone else hit me, and he mostly stopped when I started bleeding, it’s not a big deal."
"What do you mean, he mostly stopped?"
"Well, that he mostly stopped. What else would I mean?"
Kenta doesn’t really want to think about the times when Tony didn’t stop. He can feel Kim’s gaze on him like a weight, a weight that is strangely making him want to explain himself while stubbornly staring down at his tablet.
"He only didn’t stop when I’d done something really bad." Once again, Kenta feels the absurd urge to justify his father’s actions. "A son who can’t be obedient is useless."
"Why, what did he want you to do?"
Kenta shrugs.
"I was never good at hurting children," he mumbles. "My hands always started trembling and then I couldn’t… One time, I just… I just stopped being able to do it at all. He made me lick up my own blood off the floor afterwards."
He glances up at Kim, only to be met with abject horror, and he looks down again. He doesn’t want Kim to look at him like this. It’s like Kim’s reaction is making the memories a hundred times worse.
"It’s fine, really," Kenta says stubbornly. "I’m fine."
Kim puts down his cup of tea on the table.
"Can I hug you?"
Kenta does look up at Kim again now, thoroughly confused by the strange request.
"What? Why?"
"Because I think you need a hug."
Nobody has ever offered Kenta a hug. He’s not sure what to make of it.
"Uh, okay?"
He puts down his tablet and lets Kim pull him into a hug. It’s a weird feeling. The angle is kind of awkward and Kenta is not entirely sure what to do with his arms, so he’s sort of just letting them hang down on either side of Kim’s body. Kim is petting his hair with one hand, that does feel kind of nice.
Kim’s breath hitches like he’s trying to hold back tears and failing. Kenta knows only too well what that sounds like.
"Are you crying?"
He can feel Kim nodding.
"Why?"
"Because that shouldn’t happen to anyone," Kim says quietly, sounding miserable. "I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you, back then."
"We didn’t even know each other at the time," Kenta says reasonably.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
That doesn’t make any sense. Kenta decides to ignore Kim’s strange sentiment.
"Can’t you be proud of me?" Kenta asks instead, the vulnerable words tumbling out of his mouth against Kim’s shoulder.
"What do you mean?"
"I got through it all on my own," Kenta mumbles. "Can’t you be proud of me?"
Just once, just once in his life, he wants someone to appreciate the effort he put in, not just being told he’s a failure for being too stupid and too useless.
Kim shifts their positions a bit, so that he’s sitting closer to Kenta and their bodies are pressed against each other, his arms tight around Kenta’s back.
"I am proud of you," he says quietly but firmly, and those words are like water for Kenta’s parched soul, "you did really well getting through all that on your own. But you don’t have to be alone any more, okay?"
Kenta doesn’t even really know how to react to that. It’s comforting and terrifying at the same time, letting someone else in on his past. Leaning on Kim and trusting Kim to keep him safe. But Kim does keep him safe, is the thing, without being asked, without expecting anything in return, Kim is always looking out for Kenta’s well-being.
And so, Kenta allows himself to put his arms around Kim and hug him back, to actually hold onto him. He remembers that time he kissed Pete, a lifetime ago, how Pete recoiled from his touch, how Pete made sure never to come close to him again. Kim isn’t recoiling at all. On the contrary, Kim is tightening his arms around Kenta, Kim is burying one hand in Kenta’s hair and holding him close and suddenly, Kenta’s eyes are filled with tears, as well.
"Are you going to stay with me?" he asks, sounding like a child, hungry for affection, and still, Kim doesn’t let go.
"Yes," Kim promises. "I’ll stay with you."