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Okama. It’s the only word Adonis catches from Subaru’s conversation, but it causes an immediate hush over the rest of the train. No matter how quiet he says it, it’s one of those words that creeps its way into everyone’s ears, whether they want it to or not.
It takes him a moment to place it, searching his mind as quickly as he can for the word. He knows it’s not good, searches for every insult in his Japanese vocabulary, and there it is: an insulting name meaning transvestite, homosexual, effeminate man, an insult to everything Arashi is and will become. There’s ice in his veins when he feels her stiffen beside him.
As the dust settles, a couple of other boys snigger while covering their mouths. Izumi turns in their direction, antagonizing smirk on his face, but most of the others just ignore Subaru’s callous remarks. Instead, they look to Arashi, waiting breathless to see what she does. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she turns to face Subaru with a smile and wave of her hand.
“Call me whatever!” she chirps. “You’re cute anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
Adonis can tell he didn’t mean for Arashi to hear, because when she looks him in the eyes, a blush creeps up his neck. When she winks, Subaru sinks down in his seat, choosing to look out the window instead of facing her. The boys who laughed do something similar, except, of course, Izumi: he waits until Arashi makes eye contact and, after a flirty wriggle of her fingers, he turns away with a grimace.
She pops her earphones back in – not before winking at Adonis – and turns her head to gaze out the window. She seems ok, just brushes it off her shoulder like everything else, ever the carefree track captain. He sighs, relieved, and lets his eyelids slide closed.
**
When his eyes open again, the light around the train has vanished, replaced by the dark cloth of night. The light inside of the train is dim, set low enough to keep from disturbing the sleeping idols who snore lightly all around him.
Except for one.
He feels her shaking before he sees her. Arashi is remarkably quiet – especially for Arashi – but she can’t stop the shaking of her shoulders, and that’s what jogs Adonis awake. There’s heat rising in his cheeks, embarrassed at witnessing what must be one of Arashi’s most private moments. But there’s no way he can pretend to go back to sleep now, not when he knows she’s crying her eyes out beside him.
They’re wracking sobs, from what he can tell, and she’s covering her mouth with her hand to stifle any sound. Fortunately, she seems to be keeping quiet enough that no one else in the train car has awoken, especially Subaru. He opens his eyes, tries to make it inconspicuous when he looks at her. She must have been crying for a while because she looks like a wreck: there are tear streaks through her makeup, smudges around her eyes from her mascara, and her eyes are red and swollen. Her hair has fallen into her face where she’s obviously fisted her hands into it. Adonis has never seen her look anything less than perfect, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he lets his mouth fall open and his eyes go wide.
“Adonis!” she exclaims, still quiet behind her hand. She winces once she says it, carefully looking around to make sure that no one has awoken, then focuses her attention back on him. If his face wasn’t red before, it definitely is now, blood burning through his neck, ears, and cheeks.
“Uh…” he mutters, looking anywhere but her face. “Sorry…”
“No, no, it’s ok,” she whispers, voice crSacking. She wipes beneath her eyes with her thumbs, only making the problem worse. “I probably look like a mess right now, huh?”
“Well, it’s dark, so I can’t really tell.” It’s stupid, and Adonis doesn’t know why it’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth, but it does get a smile out of her. Not the smile she gave Subaru earlier, laced with pain, but a genuine, warm smile. It doesn’t last though, as her lips begin to twitch and her Adam’s apple bobs choppily in her throat.
“Uh, I’m really sorry I uh… yeah.” He tries to say anything to keep her from crying again, but how well he can do that, he isn’t sure.
“No, I’m sorry I woke you up,” she whispers in reply, voice still shaky and broken. “I don’t usually do… this.”
“Cry?” There they are again, words just spilling out of his mouth. He has half a mind to stuff his fist in it, because now Arashi’s lip is wobbling even worse.
“Y-yeah.” Then, she cracks again, dissolving back into silent sobs into her hands.
Adonis glances over at Izumi, sleeping soundly in his seat, tranquil. Subaru is the same behind them, without a care in the world. Yet, Arashi – kind and loving, without any inkling of harm in her body – is here beside him, sobbing. He’s never been all that fond of Arashi, finding her overbearing, but even he knows that there’s something wrong here. She’s never given him a real reason to dislike her – never given anyone a reason to dislike her. So why did she have to suffer?
“Do you have your makeup with you?” The words that leave his mouth surprise him. He’s already formulated a plan, already given birth to an idea, but it surprises him all the same to actually put it into action.
It seems to surprise Arashi just the same. “What?” She uncovers her face, eyes glistening with tears.
“Do you?”
Her eyebrows are furrowed with confusion, but she answers anyway. “Yes. I always bring it with me.”
“Good.” He grasps her hand in his own and makes a move to get up, but she stays sitting.
“Why?”
“Come to the bathroom with me.” He braces for the wink or flirtatious joke, but it doesn’t come. Whether a product of her confusion or heartbreak, he doesn’t know, but it feels wrong. If there’s anything he can do to make her feel a little better, to bring joyous Arashi back, he’s going to do it.
Surprisingly enough, she follows him to the bathroom without another word. He makes her wait by their seats while he checks to make sure everyone is asleep, and once he confirms that the coast is clear, beckons her silently toward him. Ritsu shifts a little bit against Mao where they sleep, making he and Arashi’s bodies stiffen when they pass, but other than that there’s no incident. He’s grateful when he opens the door, finding the bathroom smaller than he would prefer, but large enough to fit two people.
“Adonis,” she whispers, warning tone lacing his name. Adonis just waves his hand and beckons her inside. Now that the door is shut, he doesn’t fear using his voice so much, though he’s still wary: if someone were to catch them in the bathroom together, things would wind up much worse for both of them.
The lighting is bright, but it’s yellow and makes Arashi’s skin look almost sickly. Either way, it’s going to have to do, because it’s the only thing he’s got.
“There’s no mirror in here so… do you trust me?” he asks, voice quiet and low. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realizes just how awful this situation looks. In a bathroom, alone with Arashi… and she followed him without much hesitation – she doesn’t even know what he’s planning. Twin blushes rise on their cheeks, pink through the streaks in her makeup. But, before he can explain, Arashi opens her mouth.
“Yes?” It’s hesitant, but it’s real and it’s there. It makes him smile, her blind trust in him, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he finds himself laughing.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he explains. “I just didn’t want to keep talking and risk waking someone up. I uh, I figured while everyone was asleep we could fix your makeup.”
Arashi’s eyebrow is still quirked, her mouth still contorted into a frown.
“I figured, while everyone is asleep, we could fix your makeup.”
Relief washes over her face, but ever-present is that broken look, shattering something in Adonis’ heart. The corners of her lips twitch again, and then tears spill unbidden over her eyelids and onto her cheeks. They run through the same tracks, creating larger divots in her makeup. Terror freezes Adonis as she hunches over and sobs into her hands. What did he do wrong?
“Narukami,” he starts. Deciding it’s best not to touch her, he retracts his hand from where it is in the air.
“Mphf sorry.”
She finally looks back up at him, sparkling blue eyes overtop a wavering smile, and the fear melts in him. She keeps crying, but now she cries so hard that she begins to laugh, quiet at first and evolving into a fit of giggles, punctuated by snorts and hiccups as she loses her breath.
“Sssshhhh,” Adonis hushes, a grin spreading slowly on his face. “You don’t want to wake up the whole train do you?”
“S-sorry,” she laughs, her voice still full of hiccups. “I just… thank you.”
He hands her some paper towel to blot her face, then reaches for her bag and begins to lay things on the small counter. He quickly becomes overwhelmed, finding her bag bottomless, full of every type of product Adonis has ever seen and some he hasn’t. She shows him how to blend it just right so the tear streaks disappear, shows him how to follow the line of her bottom lid when he replaces her eyeliner. Other than that, though, they are silent.
Until Adonis isn’t able to hold it in any longer. “Sorry,” he finally blurts.
She shrugs. “It’s ok. I have a lot of practice doing my own makeup.”
“No,” he says. He doesn’t want to bring it up again, but it itches in the back of his mind and his mouth won’t seem to stop. After all, he hasn’t been the most supportive, and it’s eating him inside out. “I’m sorry about what Subaru said.”
She bites down on her lip whe it starts to wobble, and Adonis curses himself. They just finished taking care of the most obvious things, and here he was, about to make her cry again. Fortunately enough, however, Arashi takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, keeping the tears at bay, if only for a moment.
“That’s ok, too,” she replies, opening her eyes. They’re beautiful, Adonis realizes, heart leaping into his throat, huge and sparkling even on the verge of tears. “Most people don’t quite understand, but…” she shrugs again. “As long as I know who I am, nothing else really matters, right?”
Adonis feels a strange combination of heartache and rage boil up in his chest. His fist clenches in his pant leg, and he doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Arashi’s hand is soft and gentle on top of his.
“As long as there are kind people, it doesn’t matter.” She’s smiling again, that same pained smile she gave Subaru, and for a moment Adonis is hurt. Until he realizes that, just because the smile is painful doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine. All of Arashi’s smiles are genuine. Everything she does is genuine.
“Subaru will come around eventually,” Arashi says with a tilt of her head. “And even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.”
There’s nothing else for Adonis to say, so he keeps his mouth shut. He just lets the warmth of Arashi’s hand flow into his for a moment before he moves to pick up another brush. She seems comfortable with his silence, brushing her knee up against his in the tight space of the train bathroom.
The train is a little bumpy, and Adonis is a little shaky considering a misplaced line could take out Arashi’s eye, but everything goes off without a hitch. When he backs away to look at his work, she looks nearly like she did when they boarded the train, aside from an unsure line on her right eyelid. It’s nearly unnoticeable, at least to Adonis, and he’s sure that the other boys won’t have a clue, either.
For a moment, the only sounds are those of the train on the tracks, piercing the growing silence between them. Adonis doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he sees the matching look on Arashi’s face, and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest.
In a flash, he feels her lips press to his cheek, then she’s gone, leaving behind only a ghost of warmth. Cold air settles into the moisture left by her kiss, outlining the very shape of her lips on his skin.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and then she’s gone, leaving the bathroom quickly and quietly before Adonis has time to. He’s still awestruck by the kiss, fingers ghosting over it, trying to capture the feeling and burn it into his memory.
When he finally leaves the bathroom, he finds her looking out the window, head in her hand, a small smile curling the corners of her lips.