fic: A Sentimental Mind (3/4)
The main reason for many people not to get involved with someone they fancy beyond belief is the fear of losing the friendship acquired with them, or so Ryu has heard anyway. It’s popular in both literature and TV, the perfect love story where the main obstacle can be tackled by just a few simple words.
After that part, though, there’s a downhill. Ryu tries his best not to let the shared kiss affect their relationship, but it does. Hayato becomes distant and awkward around him and avoids hanging out as just the two of them. There’s one upside to the entire ordeal, though - amongst all the harsh words, cold shoulders and unjustified mocking, Ryu becomes closer with Take.
If Ryu had to describe his friendship with Take with only one word, he’d choose comfortable. The vertically challenged boy with his bright smiles is oddly similar to him, and they understand each other with very few words. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk much, because talking with Take, too, is much easier than it is with any of the other hooligans their circle of friends has. It’s maybe the most fortunate friendship he’s managed to acquire during his entire life.
While Ryu becomes more distant but calmer, Hayato turns into a rash and raging douchebag. His nerves are constantly strained and he’s picking up a fight with anyone who crosses paths with them without a care of the others’ opinion. He’s got some issues, they all do, but the idiot he becomes when avoiding dealing with them makes Ryu hate him. Which is kind of easier, because it’s so much simpler to hate Hayato than it is to fancy him.
Eventually, Ryu grows tired of Hayato’s reckless and bipolar behaviour around him. He just wants it all to stop, he wants to stop feeling so fucking confused all the time, and move on. The opportunity presents itself through Take - he’s worried, he tells Ryu quietly one night when they’re walking under the streetlamps just the two of them, that Hayato’s eagerness to push them into all the violent commotions will get them all expelled for good.
Ryu’s already past caring. He doesn’t care about himself - there’s no definite source of happiness in his life. If there’s a tiny twinkle of something he likes here, in this life right now, it is Take. “I’ll deal with it,” he assures his friend darkly. Take peers up at him with deer-like eyes that gleam in the dark. “Leave it up to me.”
Bowing down isn’t easy. He can’t remember the last time he did so; these past two and a half years or so, he can’t remember bowing down even once. Not at home, not at school, not during his free time - not even once. Where there used to be soft skin now is a thick layer of something that helps him get by.
He’s past caring, whether it concerns his life, future, reputation, or relationships. Maybe that’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s an explosive with feet. This time, though, he’s going to release the fire on himself.
“We forfeit,” he mumbles to the rowdy teens that laugh at him. Ryu draws in a deep breath. He’s got to stay calm, he’s got to hold onto that hollowness within himself, or otherwise he can’t do this.
“Is that so?” the leader hollers, his cackling ear-wrecking. Ryu grimaces as he gets kicked to the ground. “Bow down then. Who are you?”
“Odagiri Ryu,” Ryu speaks clearly. His heart is pounding in his chest and he can see Hayato’s expression when he finds out, the way he’ll freeze in disbelief, go through a desperate denial phase before the rage kicks in. After that, he’s done for, he knows it.
“Isn’t Yabuki your leader?” the Ara High leader asks him dubiously, his brows knitted together. Ryu raises his head slowly and glares at him. He closes his fingers around the dragon-button of his uniform jacket and pulls it loose.
“He only thinks he is,” he declares and drops his precious button to the strange palm in front of his face. “I, Odagiri Ryu, beg of you not to fight them. We forfeit. The fight is off.”
“Well, since you insist,” the boys laugh cruelly and someone gently kicks him over to his side. The demeaning laughter gets louder, echoes from the concrete walls around them. Ryu keeps his head bowed. “Let’s go,” someone says and the leader ruffles his hair evilly as he walks past him without a second look.
When Hayato finds out, he snaps. Everyone is furious at him, but judging by the looks on their faces, Hayato’s reaction scares them all. If Ryu has experienced physical pain before, it’s nothing compared to this. There’s wood against the soft spots of his body, there are fists aiming to crack his fragile bones and blood everywhere. His school uniform tears, there are finger-shaped bruises on his neck and his nose gets smashed into a bloody mush. There isn’t an inch in his body that doesn’t hurt, and by the time the school manages to get the cops to stop the outburst, he’s lying on the floor in excruciating pain.
Nothing wounds him as much as his head does, though. Not even nearly.
He undergoes minor surgery and stays in the hospital for a few weeks in monitoring. He doesn’t really know what happened to Hayato - he knows he let him have it as hard as he could, but it’s obvious that he was on the losing side. He’s not in the hospital, his father informs him coldly, and tells him he isn’t allowed to go to school anymore. From now on, he’ll have to stay at home because if he continues with his current class, he’s going to get killed, and if he changes schools it’ll look bad in his records.
Months later, there’s yet another new teacher. There’s something special about her, Ryu notices, as she puts her maximum effort into getting him to return. First he fools her, plays with her, just for the old time’s sake - it’s not like a teacher matters, he’s learned they don’t. When she actually saves his ass and shows her sincerity, Ryu can’t help but feel obligated to give her something back, which is something he hasn’t done in a very long time.
He returns to school. It takes them a few weeks and icy encounters, but somehow she fixes them. Ryu lies on the riverbank and feels Hayato lying right by his side with a soft and vulnerable expression on his face. Ryu can’t remember how long it’s been since he’s seen that face.
He falls right back in love again.
--
“You might want this back,” Hayato grumbles embarrassedly as he pushes something small and cold in Ryu’s hand. The second button of his uniform, Ryu notices, as he stares at its rectangular shape and its tiny dragon picture for a while. He hums his thank you and slips it into his pocket carelessly.
Hayato is looking at him. There’s this funny look in his eyes, soft and thoughtful. Ryu would like to say that it doesn’t suit him one bit, but weirdly enough, it does. “What?” he shoots at his friend and Hayato turns his head away, grimacing. He lowers his head almost right after, looking at his silver shoes.
“Aren’t you quiet,” Ryu mocks him and crosses his arms. He doesn’t like the wary and awkward atmosphere at all. It’s kind of threatening, he feels, like something irreversible is going to occur whether he likes it or not. Hayato laughs a little, his tone hollow and joyless. Then he looks back at Ryu again, but the expression in his eyes has remained the same. It makes Ryu feel like there’s no oxygen in the air around them.
Eventually, Hayato pulls him in a dark alleyway and kisses him. The harsh tiles press uncomfortably against Ryu’s back as he tries to squirm just a little in refusal. He wants to push Hayato away but it’s so difficult when his mouth is soft, warm, welcoming, and moist, something he’s never allowed himself to pursue. He bites back a whimper and ends up setting his hands on Hayato’s shoulders as the man keeps withdrawing and pushing his way right back, their lips brushing and pressing together helplessly.
He can’t refuse this, he notices. Thinking gives him a headache and the way Hayato makes him hit his head against the wall multiple times only enhances the throbbing.
He can’t imagine ever kissing anyone appropriate like this.
--
Ryu enters the living room quietly. He feels determined, though - a tiny bit worried but mostly confident. He’s grown a lot during these past few months with Yankumi. This isn’t a bad thing, he keeps reminding himself as he walks over to the armchair where his father is resting after a long day of work. The TV is playing commercials, some girl band waves at them cheerily in their new album promotion video.
“I want to become a teacher,” he declares nervously. He’s thought about his future so much and somehow it just doesn’t open for him. He’s thought about many things, but either he feels no particular interest for them or he knows his father would never accept them. This idea, though, might stand a chance. He doesn’t know how much he wants it, but it can’t be that bad either. He’s got a role model who’s taught him so much, and he kind of feels inclined to pursue after her footsteps.
“A teacher?” his father thinks as he examines him carefully with his gaze. It’s not a bad reaction, Ryu notes hopefully as he stands beside his father, waiting for his decision. “Are you sure?” his father questions him warily and he nods firmly. His hands are starting to feel sweaty. “You don’t want to be a detective? A doctor? A lawyer?”
“No,” he admits anxiously, trying to keep the lump in his throat from stealing away his voice. “Not really.” He wouldn’t have the grades needed for successfully applying to any medicine schools or such anyway, even if he were interested. Going to a police academy would feel like cheating after all the crimes he has committed - not to mention the whole idea kind of disgusts him.
“Teacher,” his father tastes the word in his mouth.
“Yes,” Ryu answers with a sure voice and waits. His heart is fluttering and he feels dangerously light. This can’t be this easy. His father furrows his brows and Ryu feels his stomach prickling in excitement.
His father sighs and looks a bit more encouraging as he peers up at him calculatingly. “It’s a demanding job, Ryu,” he tells him with a firm voice. Ryu nods as an answer - his mouth is too dry to speak. “You’ll have to be respectable. No more funny games, you’ll be responsible for being the role model for your pupils. You’ll be either praised or blamed for their success and actions. Excuses won’t work.”
“I know,” he croaks and bows his head. “I’ll do my best. I can do it, father. I’ll work until I can.”
“Alright then.” When Ryu straightens himself and looks at his father’s face, there’s a hint of a proud smile on his face. “I’ll help you look for a university. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t,” Ryu gasps breathlessly and bows again. “Thank you.” So, so much.
“You’ll graduate soon, Ryu,” his father tells him fondly as his eyes swift back to the television - the commercials are over, and some kind of late-night police drama pops back on the screen. “I want you to keep that in mind. No funny business anymore. Focus on your studies and you’ll do well.”
“I will,” Ryu assures his father and takes his cue to leave. He feels euphoric and unable to believe he survived the lion’s cage and even left it with praise. It’s one of the rare times when he feels like he’s good enough for his family. He’s back on the right track, he notes in relief as he half runs up the staircase and towards his room, ignoring his curious-looking mother in the hall.
He’s going to become a teacher. There’s something he can be moulded into after all. His life has a purpose, or something like that. It took many painful years to discover it, but now he’s sure.
He just hopes nothing’s going to come and knock him off his silver-lined cloud. His life, still, is just as fragile as it has always been. If he doesn’t stay on track, he’s going to lose it all. It’s one of the scariest things he can think of.
The euphoria doesn’t last for long as the graduation draws near and problems arise. Hayato senses his foul mood and holds his hand one night when they’re out, just the two of them. His palm feels sweaty and he fidgets more often that normally and looks a bit like he’s gotten caught doing some funky business he shouldn’t be doing.
Ryu squeezes his hand back and pretends everything’s the way it’s always been. Maybe it is, too.
--
Hayato gives him his second button. “What is this?” Ryu inquires, his eyebrows knitted together.
It’s horribly cliché and ridiculous, but Hayato hisses at him sharply and takes his hand into his, closing it around the button tightly. “Don’t show the others!” Hayato murmurs through his pouted lips. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what?” Ryu scoffs. His palm feels sweaty around the tiny button and his heart hammers. He doesn’t really want to feel this way. It’s too intense and it’s just too much. The sunset paints Hayato’s face warm and lovely. The thought makes Ryu look away. He’s feeling way too mushy right now for his own good.
“It’s as thank you,” Hayato insists slowly, as if to make sure Ryu definitely understands. Ryu bites back his remarks, out of which one of them is the one with the brains. “For standing by my side all these years, you know? I owe my ass to you,” he scoffs. “If you tell the others, they’ll think I’m favouring you. So just shut up about it and treasure it. Or something.”
“Got it,” Ryu assures him and watches him turn around. Hayato walks, his steps slouchy and long. His silver shoes make an ugly contrast with the barren grass.
To hell with it. Ryu’s heart prickles insistently and he feels something explosive growing inside of him, like the black hole he’s so used to would be vomiting everything up. The world has all the colours of the spectrum, vibrant and overwhelming, and he can’t help but grab Hayato by his shoulder and halt him.
“Wait,” he groans and closes his fist around his second button, which he’d tailored into his uniform himself - and pulls. There’s a tiny snapping sound as the thread breaks and Hayato looks at him with vulnerable eyes, as if he wouldn’t believe his eyes. There’s a beautiful flush in his cheeks that Ryu doesn’t dare to point out.
“If it doesn’t mean anything,” he tries to justify his impulse as he gives away his second button and feels bare and lost.
“Ah, thanks,” Hayato mumbles as he takes it from him and examines it briefly in his hands. His fingers look shaky and Ryu slips his fists back in his trouser pockets as he looks away. There’s a lump in his throat he tries to ignore as he holds onto his mask.
Then he forfeits and walks away, just to protect his pride from Hayato. It’s not serious. His feelings might be, but their relationship isn’t, even with all of its fickle encounters. If he shows his true face, he might as well lose everything he’s managed to build from his shaky foundations with help from Yankumi and his friends.
He’s not ready to let Hayato kick him off his feet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be.
--
There are times when reality sickens Ryu. It swells in his gut and spreads all over his body like a dark entity that drains him of his mobility and emotions. He can’t remember the times when it wasn’t like this. He thinks he wasn’t a very happy child. Not that he’d remember it properly. Most of his childhood, in fact, hasn’t transferred and remained in his long term memory. He’s only able to recall hazy, little things with no special meaning at all since before he was ten years old.
A loud ruckus emits from the kitchen area of the brand new apartment Hyuuga got himself after their high school studies. The kitchen is where everybody is, loudly cheering Hyuuga and Tsucchi on with their drinking game. It’s only him and Hayato here, on the couch, shielded from everyone else by a thin wall. This happens too frequently, Ryu thinks to himself absently as he takes another swig from the beer bottle. Hayato is uncharacteristically quiet beside him.
It starts out with shifting, disguised as Hayato positioning himself better - his neck hurts or his feet aren’t comfortable, whatever his excuse for each time is. Ryu can feel the couch sink and rise as the dark haired man moves and somehow always ends up closer and closer to him, rendering him breathless. There’s some brief chatter between them, tense and awkward, and then there are Hayato’s teeth grazing his chin before his lips softly bury themselves in his neck with a flutter of dark, short lashes.
He’s fancied Hayato for the majority of their friendship. He still keeps catching himself staring at the young man’s back profile, wondering how broad his shoulders have become in just a matter of a few shared years. Hayato has a habit of making him feel safe. The feeling is completely illogical, since Hayato’s gotten him into far more deadly serious fist fights than anyone else he’s ever come across during his lifetime. Irrationality, though, doesn’t change anything. Not for him, when it comes to this prickling feeling.
He feels subtly aroused but most of all nauseous as the man’s lips keep quietly pecking him and his fingers snake under the hem of his shirt to brush over his abdomen. He doesn’t answer the ministrations, he never quite dares to. He does want to, but he’s scared he’ll end up going too far, revealing everything about his internal battle to Hayato and scaring him away.
There is a chance that Hayato is just being an opportunist. He gets his encouragement from the piling bottles of beer and secrecy before he presses close and does his thing. Sometimes he apologizes. Most of the time, he doesn’t.
Ryu turns his head away. The world spins and there is this innate drive that makes him want to spread his legs, pull Hayato closer and ravish him like neither of them have ever been ravished before. He wants to satisfy all the helpless cravings he’s endured for well over three years now.
Were he to actually do that, he could never take it back. Neither of them could. He isn’t selfish or stupid enough to risk this friendship they have for it.
He lets Hayato kiss him on the lips. He opens his mouth for the soft and moist tongue that sets butterflies fluttering inside his stomach, and sighs deeply, taking in all of the wild sensations. Heat rushes to his face and it makes him feel nervous and eager. The kiss is pleasant and Hayato both tastes and reeks of beer. He’s quick to consume his liquid strength nowadays.
Every kiss always leaves him desperate for just a bit more. They break apart and breathe heavily before Hayato slowly sinks back in, his fingers tickling Ryu’s flushed skin from above the waistline of his trousers. Ryu loses himself and wishes Hayato would push more, get between his legs and devour him fully, no questions or permissions asked.
It never happens. This time, too, someone is yelling Hayato’s name from the kitchen, making the man flinch. Ryu bites his lip and stares at him silently with hazy eyes. He soundlessly urges Hayato to go with a tilt of his head. They aren’t supposed to be doing this.
Hayato gets up and goes. Ryu feels utterly disgusted with himself as he nurses his beer, thirst long drained. Some things are just never supposed to happen, even if they could. This thing between them, too, should just end completely before he can’t fight it anymore.
Or maybe he’s too deep in already.
--
Dinner is tense. His father is briskly telling the family something about a series of bank robberies to which his mother keeps nodding and humming as Ryu sits on the other side of the table silently, poking at the food on his plate. He has no appetite.
His father laughs hoarsely, the voice echoing from the walls. Sometimes Ryu wonders if he ever goes to bed thinking what his family might really feel about him. He’s so into himself he doesn’t see around him, Ryu has observed through the years. No one’s opinion matters, unless it comes from someone in a higher position than him.
If Ryu got his tendency to complain and care less about others from somewhere, it has all come from his father.
”Father,” he interjects and sets his chopsticks down. The anxious sensation in his chest tightens as his parents turn to look at him. His mouth goes dry and, for a while, silence contaminates the room. He’s successfully laid out the foundations for yet another scene at the Odagiri household that will have nothing but an ugly ending.
Hope is something he doesn’t possess. There is no hope, not with his parents. For a short while, thanks to Yankumi, he used to think so, think that as long as he was able to gather courage and convey his emotions truthfully to his parents, his stand would be carefully considered and a chance for his little and modest dreams would exist. This, though, is too much to even dare dreaming of, never mind voicing out.
There is no turning back after this, he knows. His fingers curl into tight and shaky fists under the table as he draws in a deep breath and prepares himself. After this, he is sure, everything is going to end in an instance. After this, nothing will ever quite be the same again.
“I like men,” he speaks tonelessly. His heart is beating so fast it’s unimaginably painful, and a numbing, prickling sensation starts creeping up his arms. “I’m gay,” he decides to clear possible hopeful misunderstandings up - if he’s come this far, he’s going to walk all the way to his grave.
His parents are never going to understand.
“You’re confused, son,” his father finally manages to open his mouth. His face has paled a little and there’s a familiar harsh look on his face, one that makes Ryu’s muscles clench as he fights the flight reaction. He’s been faced with that look all his life, and never once when it appeared did things turn out well for him. Sometimes it haunts him all the way to his worst nightmares. “What is this, Ryu? I thought we were over this rebellious age of yours. I thought you finally regained some sense into your head.”
“This isn’t about you,” Ryu argues, his breathing shallow and rapid. The world depicted before his eyes feels overwhelming, like it’s about to come at him with a tidal, wave-like force. His father doesn’t understand this in the slightest. “This isn’t personal, I’m not rebelling. This is me, father. I like men,” he gulps in defeat but refuses to hang his head as his eyes gloss. He can’t even see Hayato’s face in his head anymore. His emotions are draining away with every word, trying to save him by making him back away. “I love men.”
His lips are trembling as his father stands up. He flinches with every step and looks up at the man, feels the harsh tug on his collar as he’s pulled up to his feet. His mother flinches as well and curls up a little, her breathing sped up. She’s not going to stand up for him. She never did.
“There’s something wrong with you, Ryu, and we’re going to fix it,” his father tells him spitefully. The man’s spit lands on Ryu’s face but he doesn’t grimace, doesn’t do anything but stare at him in dread.
He wishes the world would end here and now. From here on, he thinks, he doesn’t want to see and experience the future anymore.
“I don’t think it can be fixed,” he tells with a trembling, mournful voice. If it could’ve been fixed, he would’ve done so ages ago. He’s feared this revelation so much since he was in secondary school that he’d done everything in his power to turn the tables. “I’ve always been like this. I was never interested in girls; I was always looking at men.”
There’s a punch in his face - his father isn’t going to listen to any more of this. His cheek throbs and swells and a few stray tears finally run down his face as his father moves his grip to his hair, yanking his head painfully back. His breaths come out in sharp wheezes. “This is our fault,” his father hisses before Ryu gets thrown to the ground. His body collides with the table and he can hear his mother screaming in fright. There’s some clanging above him on the table, possibly some glass falling over. “We’ve been ignoring you too much, Ryu. You were always a sensitive child, we should’ve guided you better! I was too busy with work and I let you grow up with your mother and look where it got you!”
“I LIKE MEN!” Ryu decides to scream from the floor, finally losing it. There is no cause-and-effect relationship in here, the whole thing is plain and simple and there are no explanations for it. “I WANT TO DATE MEN, I WANT TO SPEND MY LIFE WITH A MAN, I WANT TO -!”
“I should’ve seen this coming,” his father lets out a hollow, joyless laughter as he pulls him upwards by his hair. Ryu stumbles up from his knees before he’s yanked out of the door. He’s scared for his life, he realises as he helplessly lets his father drag him. He’s not going to win this one. A mere thought of what’s coming now petrifies him. “We’re going to get you some help, Ryu. We’re going to fix this problem, and you’re going to work for it. My friend’s brother is a psychiatrist, I’ll book appointments for you. Don’t you speak about this to anyone,” he’s commanded as he’s surprisingly thrown to the bathroom instead of his own room. He’s hiccupping, he notices, as his father rummages through the cabinet with shaky hands, spilling his mother’s medication and make-up to the sink as he curses. Ryu doesn’t dare to move from the floor where he sits, fingers pressing against the chilly tiles.
He gives up. The old habit takes over his sudden defiance as his father kneels down next to him and forces him to sit in the bathtub. He’s shaking violently as he hears the scissors and sees his own copper hair falling over his clothes and pooling around him on the porcelain.
--
Tsucchi curses when he sees his hair and stops flapping his fan. His sudden shock attracts everyone’s attention and it takes a while for some of Ryu’s friends to recognize him as he morosely slouches over. There’s a loud wave of disbelieving cries and curious queries that he brushes off with a shrug and a glare. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
Hayato scans him with a wary and thoughtful expression on his face. He looks slightly disgusted, and he is the only one who isn’t saying a word. Ryu doesn’t feel like himself at all under the unusual scrutiny. The long copper strands that used to brush his shoulders are gone, replaced by ebony, short locks, created with household scissors and his mother’s hair colouring solution.
They eat parfait at the local snack bar. Take sits with him at another table, attempting to constantly tell him how nice he looks. He’s only trying to be supportive, which is something Ryu is truly grateful for, but none of it really matters. He’d seen the looks before. He doesn’t fit in with his friends at all anymore - he looks like an ordinary salary man who’s gotten in trouble with some ruthless punks.
He wonders why his hair has such an impact on him, or maybe it’s all the bellowing that is still ringing in his ears. His wounds are still open, if they’re ever going to heal at all. There is nowhere satisfying to step from his position. He can only attempt to bear with it.
“Are you alright?” Hayato asks him later when it’s just the two of them outside, smoking cigarettes. His lips are pouty and fists stuffed in his pockets. Ryu sighs heavily without looking at the man. He can hear how Hayato shifts his weight constantly from one foot to another. “I mean, did the old man do that to you?”
“It’s nothing,” he insists, turning to face Hayato completely. The man looks frightened. He doesn’t want to be here with Ryu. Probably wonders if he should feel guilty for something too. Ryu doesn’t know what the real answers are. “It’s got nothing to do with you. This is about me.”
“We’re not… you know…” Hayato sighs heavily and squirms on his feet, “All that… you know…”
He knows. He snorts a little and draws in a shaky breath. It’s about time this came up. He’s been waiting. He wonders if it’s going to hit him harder later or if it’s really this easy, just a sharp, ripping sensation somewhere inside of him. “I never thought so,” he assures Hayato. With that, the topic is over.
Hayato doesn’t give him those long confusing looks, anymore after that. He’s distracted by everything else as Ryu just sits and wonders if it’s possible to ever recover from this and discover something new, something that could actually be more than just an unrequited pursuit of something impossible.
Or maybe he’ll never have anything. Were his father to have his way, he’d be making love to a woman he doesn’t feel sexually drawn to for the rest of his life. Most likely, that is how things will turn out for him. His needs come last.
--
The therapy is a lot of bullshit, at least when the psychiatrist in question is probably scared shitless of his father. Ryu listens to the woman’s sympathetic speeches and evaluations of his problems. Daddy issues, is what he reads between the lines. He does acknowledge that his childhood hasn’t been exactly the best, but just because his father was an ass it doesn’t mean that it has created for him a twisted way of seeking a romantic interest out of strong men who could “fill” that metaphorical hole inside of him.
Or maybe it is so. He’s not the one with a degree in here. He feels mutilated and humiliated by everyone treating him like he’s ill and abnormal just because he fancies men, not women. Breasts do nothing to him and he doesn’t think he can really see women - they’re frail shadows that look pretty, but he just can’t see their souls or such. Mommy issues, is what he reads between the lines when the topic switches to that.
It’s so exhausting. Homosexuality’s been around since forever, and even Ryu knows it’s not only humans who practice it. He just happens to swing that way. Even if it would be because of his parents, he wouldn’t care. It’s a part of him and he doesn’t really want it gone, he can’t imagine himself loving a woman the way everyone tells him to. He doesn’t think he can do it, but he isn’t accepted because of his sexual orientation. His father worries that it’ll cause him trouble career-wise, and he’s probably right too. To Ryu, though, it’s something personal and in his opinion it shouldn’t have anything to do with anything which it isn’t strictly related to. It’s a bit too bad it does.
His head is spinning and he feels heavy when he slumps inside his room after a long day with university and therapy. There’s a plain, very modest-looking envelope laid down on his pillow for him to notice. It has only his name on the cover, he notes curiously as he sits down and picks it up.
It has Hayato’s handwriting. His heart clenches as hope starts swelling. ‘I like men’, his head chimes to him shakily as he eyes the short letter desperately. He just needs some hope right now, anything. He needs someone to accept that side of him.
After he finishes reading the brief letter, his eyes gloss again and he curls up, trying to stop his body from racking so harshly.
I don’t want to cause you trouble. I’m really sorry, Hayato has written on the ripped notebook page he’s folded inside the envelope. I’ll go to California for a few years, got an apprenticeship offer. Thank you for everything. You’re my best friend. Do your best!
It’s his first love, he knows, as he slips the envelope in his night stand drawer and crashes down on his back on the bed. Hayato is his first true love.
First loves hardly ever work out, though. By the time Hayato comes back, his father will have probably already forced him into marrying some respectable young lady to enhance the illusion of his straightness. Who knows, when Hayato comes back, maybe he’s got a beautiful, American fiancé by his side too. He can’t be the only person with the ability to see that lucid shine of his.
His sexuality has to be fixable, he begs to himself desperately as he stares at the ceiling boards in dread, tears prickling in his eyes. Sleep isn’t coming to him. It just has to be fixable.
If it’s not, he’s never going to find happiness in his life.
--
The next months, Ryu spends them attending the meetings with possible future fiancées his father has handpicked for him. He dresses up formally, sits in fine restaurants to dine with young women from respectable families and tries to make small-talk. A few of them he meets more than once, but none for a longer period of time. His father doesn’t give up the hope, though, and insists on more and more arranged meetings in hopes of pushing his son into experiencing some sort of enlightenment regarding women. Unfortunately for everyone, Ryu never does.
His father makes the therapist talk about it with him. They go through all sorts of conversations about possible fear of commitment, uneasiness around the opposite sex and how to treat a woman. Ryu finds it ridiculous - it’s obvious that the therapist isn’t even trying to be understanding. He’s around only to aid his father into shaping Ryu into another person entirely.
“Look,” he sighs in the middle of the main course with a young woman named Emi. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out,” he briefly explains and bows his head down in apology. She looks appalled and hurt. Ryu doesn’t really understand the sweet and cute type, the ones with round eyes and small mouths to enchant guys. It should probably pull on his heartstrings, but it doesn’t. It’s kind of cruel, but he doesn’t feel like he’s talking to another human being at all, never mind a potential lifetime partner. “You’re not really what I’m looking for.”
They skip dessert. In fact, they skip the rest of the main course too since the girl excuses herself to the bathroom and never comes back. His father snaps at him at home and, for a while, Ryu listens to him. He tries to empathise with his father’s stress, but he can’t. This isn’t fair at all.
“If you aren’t going to pick anyone, I’ll pick one for you,” his father threatens him. He might mean well with it, but Ryu can’t have any of it. He’s an adult now and he understands responsibility, but what his family is asking from him is impossible. He isn’t able to throw away his life like that for eternal suffering. In the end, no one would be happy.
--
Once Ryu comes to terms with the solid sexual identity he has, he flees from home.
He doesn’t take much with him, only what his travelling duffel bag and school suitcase can withhold. He’s got his university stuff, wallet and a few articles of clothing as he desperately rings Tsucchi’s doorbell. He fidgets on the doorstep anxiously as he waits for his high school friend to open up. It’s a lot to ask, but he doesn’t really know what else to do. For a person who’s spent the majority of his life confused, he’s feeling surprisingly lost right now.
“Ryu?” Tsucchi cries out in surprise before he greets him with a wide and toothy grin. “I haven’t seen you in a while!”
“It’s good to see you too,” Ryu croaks and tries his hardest to smile at his friend. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Tsucchi nods enthusiastically and takes his duffel bag from him. “I take it you’ll be staying for a while? Or are you going to travel somewhere? What’s up?”
Ryu sighs morosely as he follows his friend in. He slides the front door closed behind him and takes off his shoes before he follows his friend to the living room where Tsucchi dumps his duffel bag beside a modest-looking and rather tiny couch. “You can make it into a bed,” Tsucchi explains with a confident smile as he hops to sit on the armrest. “It’s not much, but it’ll have to do, okay?”
“It’s good,” Ryu assures him and takes a look around. He’s been here maybe once or twice before, but not much. It’s been awhile since he’s even gotten the opportunity to meet up with his friends - ever since he came out of the closet to his parents, his father’s been awfully protective of him about going out to spend time with the guys. His free time has been filled with therapy and senseless match making to the point of exhaustion, not to mention all of his university assignments.
“So… what happened?” Tsucchi asks him with a softer tone. Ryu shrugs as he sits down on the couch. Honestly… he doesn’t know. Nothing particular happened, except for a small moment of panic. He doesn’t trust himself to keep his head above the water at home. He doesn’t believe in himself.
“I’m starting to discover something,” he admits to Tsucchi slowly, thoughtfully. “The true me, maybe. My parents don’t like it, though, so…” He draws in a deep breath and shrugs. “I don’t want to live my life their way.”
“No one should,” Tsucchi assures him and pats his shoulder encouragingly. Ryu grimaces and pushes his hand away but his friend just laughs before he drops beside him on the soft cushions of the couch and ruffles his short hair. “We were already getting worried.”
“Shut up,” Ryu chuckles and elbows his friend in the ribs. He’s smiling, though. Something about this place makes him feel safe and protected. Here, maybe, he can dwell on himself and push his life on a track he’ll choose himself.
“Stay for as long as you want, I like company,” Tsucchi singsongs at him with a mischievous smirk. “Want a beer? I’ve been craving beer for hours.”
“Sure,” Ryu laughs a bit and sees Tsucchi’s face light up. The man opens his fan with a swift flick of his wrist and strolls towards the kitchen area joyfully. He’s come a long way too, Ryu knows. It’s funny how well things have worked out for them after all the dark high school years.
He rests his head against the backrest of the couch and closes his eyes. Now he can finally rest.
--
--> part 4/4