Chapter Text
Despite asking Kusumi's permission to have the others help take care of him, Kaji didn't really ask or expect any of them to stay with him. He didn't verbally admit the anxiety that began to swallow him as each of his classmates and friends had to go their separate ways. Parents, previous responsibilities…Kaji understood. There was no more active danger and Kaji was very capable, he was the upperclassman here after all. But even he was nervous. What if he wasn't enough….what if he…
He grit his teeth at the entrance to his home and turned to the last remaining member of his makeshift rescue team.
"You don't have to stay, Sakura."
The monochrome haired boy shifted his quiet gaze onto Kaji and for once Kaji didn't know what he was seeing. Sakura shrugged his shoulders, not even removing his hands from his pockets. "I don't have anywhere to be."
To others perhaps it would've sounded cold and careless, but for Kaji it was just enough. No pressure to feel like he was holding Sakura up with his own worries, but without Sakura calling him out for being scared. For not being the strong one.
"Mom's working late tonight, but she doesn't care when the guys stay over. I'll make some miso soup for us all."
Kaji let them into the apartment, guiding Sakura to turn on lights ahead of him. Sakura set up the futon in the middle of Kaji's bedroom, Kaji snatching an extra pillow so there were two. He crouched down, lowering Kusumi from his shoulders into the awaiting blankets and pillows. The other boy was definitely out, but he made a faint whining noise, fingers clinging around Kaji's neck.
"Shh, Kusumi…" Kaji massaged his fingertips, warming them under his until Kusumi relaxed and released his grip. The blonde turned and brushed a hand across Kusumi's forehead, moving his hair out of the way to get a better look at his features. Dried blood scratched across Kaji's fingertips, the faint wet of tears….The sparks were faint, tingles in the back of his brain that he couldn't answer to — he shoved them back.
"Sakura could you get me a wash cloth from that closet there? Wet it with warm water? Bathroom is across the hall."
It was easier to delegate tasks. To not think about it on a personal level. About how worried he was, about how scared he was, about how angry he was…Sakura pressed a wet wash cloth into his hand and he offered a quick 'thanks'. He hadn't quite realized it yet, but he was glad it was Sakura who had stayed. Sakura who didn't ask too many questions, Sakura who didn't press for information…
It was easy to function in the silence.
Sakura helped him shift Kusumi upright again, and Kaji used the cloth to clean the blood off his friend's face. Once the blood was gone, he flipped the folded cloth over and brushed the now cool wetness over the other's sweaty features. He looked so pale and sick, even after waking up on the way home it looked like the ordeal was far from over. As if to punctuate the thought, Kusumi shifted, gagging a couple times before vomiting all over the front of his shirt.
Kaji took it in stride, flinching in surprise but not snapping back. He regarded the mess coolly, catching a faint nervousness flash across Sakura's face before the other boy schooled his own expression. Kaji wondered if Sakura expected him to snap, to get upset at the mess. From what he was beginning to understand about the younger boy, it felt on par with what he suspected Sakura might have experienced himself. Kaji would never be that person. There were no worries about that.
It was clear that Kusumi wasn't wholly conscious, but the boy was still squirming and crying out. He didn't say any intelligible words, but he did make incoherent noises of distress that made Kaji's heart twist and his stomach curl. If the boy was upset about making a mess, or just the situation in general, he didn't know. But he wrapped his hands around Kusumi's wrists as the boy twisted in Sakura's hold. Gentle, careful…brushing his fingers back and forth in soothing patterns.
"Kusumi…hey…hey it's okay. It's o—okay…We've got you, okay?" Kaji hated how his voice cracked and trembled, so unlike him. And hated how he didn't know what else to tell him. It was going to be okay. It had to be okay. He didn't even know if Kusumi could hear or understand him. "I'll wash the sweater and get you something else to wear for the night. It's okay…"
The boy seemed to accept the comfort, or simply fell deeper back into unconsciousness again, either way he relaxed back. Kaji exhaled shakily as he lowered the boy's limp arms down to his sides. He returned his gaze to the mess again. It hadn't gotten on the futon or the blankets, only Kusumi's sweater. Made things easier he supposed. Kaji shifted to stand, casting a glance to Sakura who was hovering behind Kusumi's form. He caught Kaji's gaze and nodded silently. Unspoken.
I've got him.
Kaji nodded in return, stretching to his full height and meandering to the other side of his room. He pulled a large band shirt from his closet. It was loose on him, something that Sako had gotten him while forgetting he wasn't Hiragi's height. It was short sleeved, which wasn't Kusumi's favorite but he was feverish at this point and Kaji thought it better to let him cool down.
He returned to the floor, placing the shirt to the side. He didn't really need to give Sakura directions on how to hold Kusumi up as Kaji grabbed the bottom of the boy's sweater and rolled it over his head, careful to keep the mess contained as he did so. He seemed almost methodical about it, focused solely on transitioning Kusumi from his dirty sweater to a clean shirt. It was Sakura's sharp inhale that snapped his attention.
Kaji felt almost like he was zooming out to regard the entirety of his surroundings, not quite the tunnel that he had fallen into. Kusumi's torso and arms were covered in scattered bruises of various ages. Some of them were likely from a couple street brawls, but Kaji suspected there were quite a few left over from Kuroda. Fading…but not fast enough…The blonde bit into his lip as he pulled the sweater over Kusumi's head. He should've gotten Kusumi away from the asshole sooner. He should've….
As the last ends of the sweater moved from Kusumi's chest, Kaji realized all at once what Sakura had noticed before him. Embarrassment flashed over his face in the form of a strong blush, long before the realization of what it all meant hit him. He'd never seen breasts in person before, and he supposed in this case he still hadn't as Kusumi's were covered in what looked like a kind of tape or bandage, flattening them to the sides of his chest.
Kaji hurriedly pulled his shirt over Kusumi's head, trying to still be careful as he finagled the other's arms into the sleeves. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, the realization that he had seen something he shouldn't have building in his chest. As he completed his task, he flashed a glance at Sakura. The younger boy was staring, not at Kusumi but Kaji, a tenseness in his jaw that made Kaji's hackles rise for some reason. As if he was about to start a fight with him.
Sakura started to snap at him, "You can't—"
The blonde quirked his head slightly, then broke eye contact. "Shut up!" he bit out, though the words were not as sharp as he wanted them to be, he was sure it got his point across.
He didn't know what Sakura was getting riled up about and right now he didn't want to know. There was too much going on, too much to process. He didn't want to assume that Sakura thought the worst about him immediately, didn't want to delve too deep into why Sakura would even jump to the defensive so quickly. In fact, he doubted Sakura was thinking clearly enough to realize he didn't want Kaji questioning it either.
Kaji exhaled sharply, blinking his eyes shut before shooting a look back at Sakura and pointing at him accusingly. "This does not leave this apartment, do you hear me? Kusumi can talk about it when he wants to."
Sakura's features seemed to noticeably relax, which surprised Kaji even more. As if Kaji had passed some kind of unspoken test. The other boy nodded his agreement. "Yeah. 'course."
The two rested Kusumi back against the pillows, Kaji hating how tense his friend's expression still looked. He hesitantly grazed his hand across Kusumi's cheek before pulling away, swallowing. He twisted his fingers in Kusumi's sweater, carrying it with him as he stood up.
"I'll throw this in the wash and then start the soup. Can you keep an eye on him…please? Come get me if anything happens," Kaji gestured towards the hall, "It's just downstairs to the right. You should hear me. I'm not…a quiet cook."
The blonde laughed to himself as if he'd made a joke. "Uh. There's a handheld game in the basket there if you want to play, but just keep an ear out, okay?"
Then he left the room to attend to his own tasks. It was easier again, to put himself to a task, to focus on steps and movements. To ignore the thoughts trying to reach him.
Kusumi was…
Kaji shook his head. It was none of his business. Kusumi had never said anything, obviously he didn't want him to know, and he had to accept that. And he had to completely ignore the slight ache that radiated in his ribcage at the idea that Kusumi didn't trust him. He idly wondered if Enomoto knew. The two were friends long before him. Surely he…Kaji turned the washer on and passed the bowl of lollipops he had on the kitchen table. He snagged one and shoved it into his mouth. The flavor burst on his tongue, chasing his thoughts away as he focused his mind once more.
Cooking wasn't a skill he was amazing at, but it was relaxing in its own way. Step by step. Directions that were usually easy to follow. He worried about Kusumi — not that he didn't trust Sakura, but he just worried in general. He'd never seen anyone in this situation before. He'd confidently told Nirei that Kusumi had had worse and on some levels he had, but also this was so different altogether. Still, he managed to make the soup without any interruptions, bringing a bowl for each of them on a tray back to the bedroom.
Kusumi looked to be sleeping about as soundlessly as he could be, and Sakura was sitting cross-legged at the bedside. Kaji placed the table down on the floor in the corner and laid Kusumi's bowl to the side, placing a second in front of Sakura. The other boy thanked him but eyed the bowl nervously. Kaji settled on the floor across from him, the warmth of the bowl grounding him. He sipped at it, letting the warmth spread from his fingers into his chest, making him feel real again. Human. After a bit he eyed Sakura with a sigh.
"You don't have to eat it if you don't want, it's okay."
Sakura nodded. "Sorry."
He seemed distracted but relieved, setting the bowl back on the table. Kaji shrugged, slurping more at his own bowl. It didn't hurt his feelings really. Not everyone liked certain foods.
"It's fine. Do you want me to see if there's something else?"
Sakura shook his head, looking at his fingers. Kaji couldn't tell if he was still thinking about earlier or if he was anxious about something else. And Kaji was saved from having to find out by Kusumi shifting on the bed in a panic. The boy sat up in a rush, eyes hidden from them but surely open wide. He all but yelled out, incomprehensible noises that almost formed a name. Both Kaji and Sakura moved, but Kaji was faster, Sakura hovering nearby as the blonde laid his hand on Kusumi's shoulder.
"Hey — you're safe," Kaji reminded him, "You're safe."
Kusumi turned to look at him, peering through his sweat-soaked bangs. There was a better sense of awareness in his eyes, but he still seemed dazed, blinking in confusion. "Do you feel like eating? I made some miso soup." Kaji blushed faintly, looking away as he muttered. "You said you liked it last time so I tried the same recipe."
To his right he thought he saw Sakura snap his gaze away, thought he caught a dusting of red on his cheeks too. Weird…
Kusumi nodded his head slowly, reaching a hand up to press against his forehead. Kaji was sure he had an awful headache, but he wasn't sure if any pain medication would be safe at this point.
As Kaji grabbed for the still steaming bowl of soup he'd set aside, he noticed Kusumi's eyes linger too long on the clean shirt and bare skin of his arms. He tried to pretend he didn't notice the way Kusumi's lips trembled, tried not to wonder if he should confront what Kusumi was already thinking. Of what Kusumi did or did not want to admit. The moment passed, Kusumi dropping his hands and looking down at his fingers.
Kaji nudged his friend's legs gently and Kusumi shifted to make room for him. Sakura had settled back in the corner, having acquired the game system that Kaji had pointed out earlier. The tension in his shoulders told Kaji his attention was split, still on the other two boys in the room.
Kusumi was a lot more steady, holding himself upright without trouble — though Kaji had to admit the way he had set up the pillows behind him also helped. The other boy reached out for the bowl and Kaji nudged his hand gently away, shaking his head as he wordlessly pressed a spoon to Kusumi's lips. It was telling that the boy didn't fuss or pout, simply opening his mouth slightly to let the spoon pass between his lips so he could sip at the broth. He let Kaji feed him about half the bowl before he shook his head, one hand resting on Kaji's for a second. Kaji nodded, shifting away to put the remainder back on the table.
A hand fluttered back to his wrist as Kaji leaned back, eyeing Kusumi closely. Kusumi's bangs were a mess, plastered against his forehead in a bunch, but it left his eyes visible for once. Kaji didn't know what Kusumi was thinking, why there was such a strange look on his face. He hesitated, wondering if he needed to get the boy his phone so he could talk to him. All at once Kusumi was pulling him close, crashing their lips together.
Multiple emotions hit Kaji at once and it was almost too much. He couldn't sort any of them out.
Shock. Fear. Worry. Disgust. Sorrow.
And one word: stop.
Kaji didn't mean to be harsh or unkind, it was more that he didn't allow time to fully think. He moved before the thoughts fully registered. Before anything made sense. He shoved Kusumi back, palms flat against the other's shoulders. Kusumi seemed to lean forward for a second, to fight against the separation, to chase back towards his lips, before it finally sank in what was happening.
There were so many emotions warring in Kaji's chest, he didn't know what expression was on his face — didn't realize that he was looking at Kusumi with a mixture of horror and pain. Kusumi's lips started wobbling again, his entire body beginning to shake. He dropped his gaze, but Kaji saw his eyes filling with tears. All of that only confused and stressed Kaji more. Kusumi was twisting his hands in Kaji's blankets, fingers growing white with the tension.
Kaji flattened his own hands, moving from pushing Kusumi away, to holding him by the shoulders — trying to be gentle again, reassuring.
"Kusumi…you can't — we can't — you're not thinking clearly right now, okay? You don't —" Kaji swallowed, "You don't want this."
Because how could he ever — Kaji shut down his thoughts. This was about Kusumi right now. Not his own feelings. He wanted to love Kusumi and he wanted Kusumi to love him, of course he did. But he didn't want it like this, tainted by delirium and Kuroda's bullshit. Even if that meant it would never come to be, he could live with that. He loved Kusumi that much, it was an easy thing for him to do. To protect him, even from himself…
Kusumi seemed to break under his touch, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his hands to his eyes as he started sobbing loudly. Kaji frowned deeply. He wasn't good at handling his own emotions — everyone knew that. He couldn't hide it. But he was even more at a loss with other's.
He couldn't stop himself from casting a quick glance at Sakura, almost as if he could ask the other boy for help. Unfortunately, he looked just as out of his depth as Kaji. The blonde sighed, rubbing gently at Kusumi's shoulders, returning to the only mantra he had. It wasn't enough, but it was the best he could do.
"It's okay, Kusumi…It's going to be okay. Breathe. It's okay…"
It felt like an eternity before Kusumi laid back down and succumbed to soft hiccups, curled into himself like a small child. Kaji stayed beside him, leaving at least one hand to make reassuring passes across his shoulder. An ache was radiating in his chest, but he refused to acknowledge it now. A lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow past…
"Shhh...it's okay…"
Kusumi's eyes snapped open, the boy taking a moment to take in his surroundings. The room looked familiar, but at first glance he didn't place it. He was on a futon, tucked in with a blanket up to his shoulders. A warm pressure rested on his forearm and he turned his head to see Kaji sprawled out to the side, face pressed against the blankets, arm resting over his. Kusumi tilted his head to the side in confusion, reaching out hesitantly with his free hand.
All at once the memory of the night prior — or at least bits and pieces — came rushing back. The feeling of his lips on Kaji's, the feeling of Kaji roughly shoving him away. The rejection seemed just as sharp and painful as if it was fresh. Kusumi felt his eyes watering at the thought, but he managed to stifle it back down. He snatched his hand back, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.
The movement caught the faint morning light on his bare skin and he realized something even more distressing. Kusumi felt his chest seize up, breath hesitating in his throat. He wasn't wearing his sweater — he'd changed his shirt. He'd changed his shirt. He had seen.
He knew.
Was that why Kaji had rejected him?
Kuroda was right.
No one — least of all Kaji — would ever…
Kusumi felt his head swimming as nausea and panic warred in his stomach. He dug his teeth deeper into his lip until he tasted blood, counting until the panic attack receded to a faint buzz.
Slowly, painstakingly so, Kusumi slipped his arm out from under Kaji. He carefully shifted out from under the blanket, slipping out from the other side of the futon without waking the other boy. He found himself wavering slightly as he tried to stand on the tatami floor, but steadied himself. Gaze wandered around the room looking to see if he could find his sweater. He noticed another form in the corner, Sakura's two-tone hair peeking through the hood he had pulled over his head. Kusumi froze, staring at him for several moments, waiting. He thought he heard faint enough breathing that he believed the boy was asleep.
Kusumi didn't find his sweater anywhere in the room, but he did find his phone on the dresser. He snatched it and stumbled as quickly and quietly as he could down the stairs. He wanted to leave, he needed to be gone before anyone woke up. He didn't care if he got his sweater back ever again. He didn't want to look Kaji in the eye.
"Oh, Kusumi-kun, I didn't know you stayed over."
He froze, one shoe half on his foot, as Kaji Ren's mother appeared from the kitchen. She had a loving smile that fit a mother like her and radiated warmth simply by existing. Kusumi didn't want to see her right now, but attempted to keep from grimacing, waving a polite goodbye. He caught her look a little perplexed, but she did not press him for anything as he closed the front door behind him.
It was barely morning. The sun had just barely past its crest over the horizon, but it blinded Kusumi as he headed home. He pretended that was the reason for the wetness stinging the edges of his eyes.
He waited until he was halfway home to message Kaji. He didn't want to, he wanted to let a hole open up in the ground and swallow him whole. But the least he could do for Kaji's trouble was let him know he wasn't kidnapped again or something. Keep Kaji from coming to look for him.
Went home.
Thanks.
Sorry…again. (*_ _)人
Then he turned off his phone.