(no subject)
Title: Indecisive Decisiveness
Band/Pairing: ToraxHiroto [slight]
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I only own the plot and the words.
Summary: White walls, twos and a hedge cutter.
The walls were as whitewashed as the tiles that lined the floor and all Hiroto could think was that this place he was in was heaven. Fresh smells of cleaning products were better than any bouquet of flowers sitting in a tiny vase on his bedside table. The gowns he wore were pristine and crisp unlike the bothersome clothes he wore when he lived somewhere beyond this place. Maybe it was called home?
As all things were clean and well kept, Hiroto had to keep himself on a routine. Every morning he slipped from his white bed with white sheets and blankets into a similarly white bathroom. There he washed himself two times. Shampooed twice. Conditioned Twice. He was no more than sixteen with a small frame and stature to boot so this task didn’t take too long. Twelve minutes and twenty-two seconds at most.
Pearly whites took two brushings to get thoroughly cleaned. Hiroto’s tongue was a carpet of grime and disgust so for four minutes he scrubbed with the hard bristles of his toothbrush with the utmost determination to make that tongue as pink as it could possibly be. If he ever needed to take longer than four minutes, Hiroto just continued for another two minutes. Twos were perfect.
There were two feet on which he wore white slippers and when it was wintertime he wore two fluffy, white socks but since it was edging on summer, the boy’s feet stayed bare. Hiroto had two eyes that sometimes needed a thick set of glasses to see if he were reading or looking far off into the distance. Those glasses would perch on his nose with two nostrils and subsequently on two ears on which he had no piercings but were small, just like him.
As Hiroto contemplated all of the parts of the body and the twos that it could create, he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts.
“Hiroto dear, it’s time for breakfast,” came the voice of the nice attendant Momo. Hiroto quite liked Momo. Her name came in two sounds that were the same. Twos, twos, twos. But yes, Momo was right. It was time for breakfast at 8:02 sharp.
Out into the hallway the teenager was led, padding with muffled steps into the cafeteria, which wasn’t exactly bustling with early morning commotion. Many of the other people that lived in the large building with Hiroto didn’t seem to be quite all there in the beginning of the day. In actuality, many of them weren’t all there to begin with.
Walking past the tables of quietly eating people, the small teen caught bits and pieces of conversation.
“You know, you see here. They’re all tricking us. They’re all spies! They just don’t want us to figure it out yet, you see.”
“I reckon that person living in my wall just wants someone to talk to. So I talk with them but the nurse keeps telling me there’s no one there. What does she know!”
Hiroto just smiled and thought quietly to himself that some people here were strange. Almost too strange. He sat down at the table that was his and his alone, waiting for Momo to return with his breakfast. Very early on the blonde teen was told that he was not allowed to walk through the food line with his tray anymore.
Maybe it was acceptable for some people to put three piece of bacon and only one slice of orange on his plate. Even what looked to be one and a half pieces of toast? After a screaming match and what Hiroto calmly thought of as ‘a difference in opinion’, he was no longer allowed to talk with the ladies that cooked the food lest he have an aneurysm over the lack of even numbers in portioning.
When his breakfast arrived, Hiroto ate quietly and watched everyone talk in groups of oddly numbered people, with oddly numbered pieces of food and messy, jumbled appearances. The iron grip with which he held his fork, knuckles white and toes curled inside of his slippers was a stark contrast to the pleasant smile on his face.
Back inside of his room, Hiroto sat on one of the two chairs near the small window and slid on his glasses. Beyond the secured gates of the asylum, there was nothing but an expanse of countryside. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere was where Hiroto lived and he couldn’t have asked for a better place because he didn’t ask for it.
One day a few years ago when he was fourteen, maybe thirteen, his parents drove him up into this nice countryside and dropped him off with a simple goodbye and that they loved him very much. Puzzled and confused, Hiroto couldn’t see why this place was somewhere he should be. They could have grown tired of what they called ‘nitpicking’ at the cleanliness of the house or the number of things they owned. It was simple!
Lunchtime edged nearer and Hiroto saw a groundskeeper cutting back a hedge. The man was tall, thin and seemed to have dark hair. He worked tirelessly shaping the hedge and the teen was so engrossed in watching the sculpting, he shrieked in surprise at the tap on his shoulder.
“I-I’m sorry!” Hiroto apologized profusely to a startled looking Momo. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s quite alright,” Momo replied, her hand over her heart. “I was going to ask about lunch?”
For the first time since he had started living there Hiroto bit his lip and hesitated for a long moment. Watching the man cut the hedge was too interesting.
“Can I eat in my room?” Hiroto asked tentatively. Momo looked surprised but nodded and was back with his lunch before he knew it. And so he watched until most all of the hedges in the courtyard were sculpted. Countless times (six to be exact) the hedge cutter drank from a bottle of water. Was it really so hot outside?
Time flew by and dinner was eaten in his room. Hiroto wasn’t sure what unsettled him about the hedge cutter. Night had fallen and the dark haired man has disappeared back into the asylum where he obviously lived and Hiroto disappeared under the safety of his white blankets. Sleep did not come easily and it distressed him.
Thoughts whirled about in his mind and Hiroto thought about the last time he was hugged. It was a curious affair with his mother and he had wanted to hug her so dearly but there were germs and it was strange to be hugged. Yet he yearned for it. It was the conflicting feeling of wanting the warmth but being afraid of the things crawling about inside of it. Like kisses.
Hiroto shuddered violently. Kisses. Who could willingly give away kisses? Millions and billions of bacteria lived in saliva just waiting to kill other people. But… when Hiroto used to watch television, people who kissed looked like they enjoyed it. They even touched their tongues together because they liked it so much.
Nothing but the light of the moon and a tiny night light in the bathroom shone across the white tiled, clean smelling floor. Hiroto was lonely in his white room. He frivolously surrounded himself with twos and cleanliness. Yet he did realize as grotesque as kissing was, it involved two people and two sets of lips.
Maybe a kiss goodnight would make him feel less lonely. The one heart he had coupled with another. A perfect two.
------------------------------
The next afternoon, Hiroto was startled to find the very same man who cut the hedges running through the halls of the asylum. Apparently he was also a patient of the ward but he had forgotten about he schedule for cutting the hedges in the adjacent courtyard.
“Shinji you get back here!” Yelled an attendant from far off down the opposite end of the hallway. It was a loud scramble of slippers and a whirlwind of movement but suddenly Hiroto had a guest in his room. Breathing heavily and leaning on the back of Hiroto’s door for support, the man named Shinji stayed absolutely silent and still.
Hiroto was simply terrified. Not only because someone had run into his room but that it was the hedge cutter. And he was a patient too.
“I-I…who --” Hiroto stammered but the man looked at him with pained eyes, motioning for the teen to stay quiet as the yelling attendant hurtled past his hiding place.
“I’m sorry,” Shinji began, rubbing his forehead. He was dressed in white pants and a white shirt, the same as Hiroto was wearing that morning. “I’m Shinji and I just got in trouble so this was the only place that seemed like it was unlocked and I’m not sure if I can go back out there.”
The rushed explanation had Hiroto’s mind in jumbles but he nodded and didn’t say much else. Lunch had just ended and dinner was bound to come in a few hours. What was he going to tell Momo? Contemplating all of the horrible scenarios, Hiroto opened his mouth and blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“Wanna have dinner with me in my room?” It wasn’t the smoothest but the teen had a chance to make friends. Shinji however, promptly reddened.
“I don’t..what are you.. huh?” He spluttered. Hiroto didn’t understand but repeated his question louder and even articulated more. It still didn’t stop Shinji’s confusion until it dawned on him that Hiroto was trying to keep him hidden from whoever he was being chased by housing him in his own room until dinnertime.
Momo however was slightly skeptical about bringing back two trays of food but like Hiroto’s personality, twos were perfect; despite the rules of one patient to one room. Nonetheless, Shinji sat at Hiroto’s table and ate dinner with him when the time came and he discussed his clean slate of behavior and the permission he was granted to cut the hedges.
“They needed someone to help out but had no money in the budget to hire an outside worker,” Shinji managed through a mouthful of potatoes while Hiroto curled his toes a bit tighter in his slippers, “so they asked me if I was capable. My record isn’t so crazy…”
Hiroto even discussed that he was obsessed with pairs, with twos with the number and Shinji raised an eyebrow. The blonde boy’s plate was neatly arranged in sets of two now that he paid attention.
“So what are you even in here for? You look normal to me,” Shinji commented offhandedly. Hiroto shrugged.
“They call it Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. I’m not obsessive about anything, it just has to be in twos and not dirty at all.” Hiroto looked pleased with his explanation but his expression fell when Shinji openly laughed. Although was a nice sound. Laughter.
“Well I’m in here for Borderline Personality Disorder. I’m not crazy focused on failing or what others think of me and I don’t switch moods easily without warning.” Shinji prattled off in the same manner as the teen. Hiroto was confused.
When it came time for Shinji to leave, Hiroto was already in bed and watching Shinji stand from his seat at the tiny table.
“Hey Shinji?” Hiroto piped up from behind a sheet. “What’s a goodnight kiss like?”
Shinji closed his eyes and shook his head. Sixteen years old and this boy didn’t know that these questions were strange to ask?
“It’s like any other kiss,” he replied, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt.
“Oh.” Shinji looked back at that dejected, small figure. Not knowing what to do and knowing it was wrong on so many fucking levels, he approached the bedside and looked down at Hiroto. Hiding behind a sheet.
“Put that down and close your eyes.” Shinji sighed and watched as Hiroto did so. Then he promptly planted a kiss on his lips and turned away, leaving the room as quickly as he had come with a scuffle of slippers and a raging redness creeping over his cheeks.
Hiroto laid in utter shock. A mix of wanting to disappear, wanting to brush his teeth and lips until they were raw and maybe…feeling a slight bit of fulfillment? There were germs on his lips and he knew it but the warmth, as fleeting as it was, felt nice.
Band/Pairing: ToraxHiroto [slight]
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I only own the plot and the words.
Summary: White walls, twos and a hedge cutter.
The walls were as whitewashed as the tiles that lined the floor and all Hiroto could think was that this place he was in was heaven. Fresh smells of cleaning products were better than any bouquet of flowers sitting in a tiny vase on his bedside table. The gowns he wore were pristine and crisp unlike the bothersome clothes he wore when he lived somewhere beyond this place. Maybe it was called home?
As all things were clean and well kept, Hiroto had to keep himself on a routine. Every morning he slipped from his white bed with white sheets and blankets into a similarly white bathroom. There he washed himself two times. Shampooed twice. Conditioned Twice. He was no more than sixteen with a small frame and stature to boot so this task didn’t take too long. Twelve minutes and twenty-two seconds at most.
Pearly whites took two brushings to get thoroughly cleaned. Hiroto’s tongue was a carpet of grime and disgust so for four minutes he scrubbed with the hard bristles of his toothbrush with the utmost determination to make that tongue as pink as it could possibly be. If he ever needed to take longer than four minutes, Hiroto just continued for another two minutes. Twos were perfect.
There were two feet on which he wore white slippers and when it was wintertime he wore two fluffy, white socks but since it was edging on summer, the boy’s feet stayed bare. Hiroto had two eyes that sometimes needed a thick set of glasses to see if he were reading or looking far off into the distance. Those glasses would perch on his nose with two nostrils and subsequently on two ears on which he had no piercings but were small, just like him.
As Hiroto contemplated all of the parts of the body and the twos that it could create, he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts.
“Hiroto dear, it’s time for breakfast,” came the voice of the nice attendant Momo. Hiroto quite liked Momo. Her name came in two sounds that were the same. Twos, twos, twos. But yes, Momo was right. It was time for breakfast at 8:02 sharp.
Out into the hallway the teenager was led, padding with muffled steps into the cafeteria, which wasn’t exactly bustling with early morning commotion. Many of the other people that lived in the large building with Hiroto didn’t seem to be quite all there in the beginning of the day. In actuality, many of them weren’t all there to begin with.
Walking past the tables of quietly eating people, the small teen caught bits and pieces of conversation.
“You know, you see here. They’re all tricking us. They’re all spies! They just don’t want us to figure it out yet, you see.”
“I reckon that person living in my wall just wants someone to talk to. So I talk with them but the nurse keeps telling me there’s no one there. What does she know!”
Hiroto just smiled and thought quietly to himself that some people here were strange. Almost too strange. He sat down at the table that was his and his alone, waiting for Momo to return with his breakfast. Very early on the blonde teen was told that he was not allowed to walk through the food line with his tray anymore.
Maybe it was acceptable for some people to put three piece of bacon and only one slice of orange on his plate. Even what looked to be one and a half pieces of toast? After a screaming match and what Hiroto calmly thought of as ‘a difference in opinion’, he was no longer allowed to talk with the ladies that cooked the food lest he have an aneurysm over the lack of even numbers in portioning.
When his breakfast arrived, Hiroto ate quietly and watched everyone talk in groups of oddly numbered people, with oddly numbered pieces of food and messy, jumbled appearances. The iron grip with which he held his fork, knuckles white and toes curled inside of his slippers was a stark contrast to the pleasant smile on his face.
Back inside of his room, Hiroto sat on one of the two chairs near the small window and slid on his glasses. Beyond the secured gates of the asylum, there was nothing but an expanse of countryside. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere was where Hiroto lived and he couldn’t have asked for a better place because he didn’t ask for it.
One day a few years ago when he was fourteen, maybe thirteen, his parents drove him up into this nice countryside and dropped him off with a simple goodbye and that they loved him very much. Puzzled and confused, Hiroto couldn’t see why this place was somewhere he should be. They could have grown tired of what they called ‘nitpicking’ at the cleanliness of the house or the number of things they owned. It was simple!
Lunchtime edged nearer and Hiroto saw a groundskeeper cutting back a hedge. The man was tall, thin and seemed to have dark hair. He worked tirelessly shaping the hedge and the teen was so engrossed in watching the sculpting, he shrieked in surprise at the tap on his shoulder.
“I-I’m sorry!” Hiroto apologized profusely to a startled looking Momo. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s quite alright,” Momo replied, her hand over her heart. “I was going to ask about lunch?”
For the first time since he had started living there Hiroto bit his lip and hesitated for a long moment. Watching the man cut the hedge was too interesting.
“Can I eat in my room?” Hiroto asked tentatively. Momo looked surprised but nodded and was back with his lunch before he knew it. And so he watched until most all of the hedges in the courtyard were sculpted. Countless times (six to be exact) the hedge cutter drank from a bottle of water. Was it really so hot outside?
Time flew by and dinner was eaten in his room. Hiroto wasn’t sure what unsettled him about the hedge cutter. Night had fallen and the dark haired man has disappeared back into the asylum where he obviously lived and Hiroto disappeared under the safety of his white blankets. Sleep did not come easily and it distressed him.
Thoughts whirled about in his mind and Hiroto thought about the last time he was hugged. It was a curious affair with his mother and he had wanted to hug her so dearly but there were germs and it was strange to be hugged. Yet he yearned for it. It was the conflicting feeling of wanting the warmth but being afraid of the things crawling about inside of it. Like kisses.
Hiroto shuddered violently. Kisses. Who could willingly give away kisses? Millions and billions of bacteria lived in saliva just waiting to kill other people. But… when Hiroto used to watch television, people who kissed looked like they enjoyed it. They even touched their tongues together because they liked it so much.
Nothing but the light of the moon and a tiny night light in the bathroom shone across the white tiled, clean smelling floor. Hiroto was lonely in his white room. He frivolously surrounded himself with twos and cleanliness. Yet he did realize as grotesque as kissing was, it involved two people and two sets of lips.
Maybe a kiss goodnight would make him feel less lonely. The one heart he had coupled with another. A perfect two.
------------------------------
The next afternoon, Hiroto was startled to find the very same man who cut the hedges running through the halls of the asylum. Apparently he was also a patient of the ward but he had forgotten about he schedule for cutting the hedges in the adjacent courtyard.
“Shinji you get back here!” Yelled an attendant from far off down the opposite end of the hallway. It was a loud scramble of slippers and a whirlwind of movement but suddenly Hiroto had a guest in his room. Breathing heavily and leaning on the back of Hiroto’s door for support, the man named Shinji stayed absolutely silent and still.
Hiroto was simply terrified. Not only because someone had run into his room but that it was the hedge cutter. And he was a patient too.
“I-I…who --” Hiroto stammered but the man looked at him with pained eyes, motioning for the teen to stay quiet as the yelling attendant hurtled past his hiding place.
“I’m sorry,” Shinji began, rubbing his forehead. He was dressed in white pants and a white shirt, the same as Hiroto was wearing that morning. “I’m Shinji and I just got in trouble so this was the only place that seemed like it was unlocked and I’m not sure if I can go back out there.”
The rushed explanation had Hiroto’s mind in jumbles but he nodded and didn’t say much else. Lunch had just ended and dinner was bound to come in a few hours. What was he going to tell Momo? Contemplating all of the horrible scenarios, Hiroto opened his mouth and blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“Wanna have dinner with me in my room?” It wasn’t the smoothest but the teen had a chance to make friends. Shinji however, promptly reddened.
“I don’t..what are you.. huh?” He spluttered. Hiroto didn’t understand but repeated his question louder and even articulated more. It still didn’t stop Shinji’s confusion until it dawned on him that Hiroto was trying to keep him hidden from whoever he was being chased by housing him in his own room until dinnertime.
Momo however was slightly skeptical about bringing back two trays of food but like Hiroto’s personality, twos were perfect; despite the rules of one patient to one room. Nonetheless, Shinji sat at Hiroto’s table and ate dinner with him when the time came and he discussed his clean slate of behavior and the permission he was granted to cut the hedges.
“They needed someone to help out but had no money in the budget to hire an outside worker,” Shinji managed through a mouthful of potatoes while Hiroto curled his toes a bit tighter in his slippers, “so they asked me if I was capable. My record isn’t so crazy…”
Hiroto even discussed that he was obsessed with pairs, with twos with the number and Shinji raised an eyebrow. The blonde boy’s plate was neatly arranged in sets of two now that he paid attention.
“So what are you even in here for? You look normal to me,” Shinji commented offhandedly. Hiroto shrugged.
“They call it Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. I’m not obsessive about anything, it just has to be in twos and not dirty at all.” Hiroto looked pleased with his explanation but his expression fell when Shinji openly laughed. Although was a nice sound. Laughter.
“Well I’m in here for Borderline Personality Disorder. I’m not crazy focused on failing or what others think of me and I don’t switch moods easily without warning.” Shinji prattled off in the same manner as the teen. Hiroto was confused.
When it came time for Shinji to leave, Hiroto was already in bed and watching Shinji stand from his seat at the tiny table.
“Hey Shinji?” Hiroto piped up from behind a sheet. “What’s a goodnight kiss like?”
Shinji closed his eyes and shook his head. Sixteen years old and this boy didn’t know that these questions were strange to ask?
“It’s like any other kiss,” he replied, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt.
“Oh.” Shinji looked back at that dejected, small figure. Not knowing what to do and knowing it was wrong on so many fucking levels, he approached the bedside and looked down at Hiroto. Hiding behind a sheet.
“Put that down and close your eyes.” Shinji sighed and watched as Hiroto did so. Then he promptly planted a kiss on his lips and turned away, leaving the room as quickly as he had come with a scuffle of slippers and a raging redness creeping over his cheeks.
Hiroto laid in utter shock. A mix of wanting to disappear, wanting to brush his teeth and lips until they were raw and maybe…feeling a slight bit of fulfillment? There were germs on his lips and he knew it but the warmth, as fleeting as it was, felt nice.