|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
A Koko wa Greenwood fanfic by Jop and Yen
Characters belong to Yukie Nasu and in no way belong to us
***********************************************************************************************************************************
The halls of Greenwood were silent, the pale moon washing shades of white on the wooden floor. The slumbering sounds of the night were in sharp contrast with the brilliant lights of the day and all the inhabitants had long fallen under its spell.
Or almost all.
Mitsuru stared up at the ceiling above his head, his head propped on his hands, his body still. He was aware that even the slightest movement would wake his supernaturally sensitive bunkmate and he had no wish to be subjected to an emotionless lecture, no matter that the emotion behind it was warmer than the mask that spoke it.
The holidays were coming. Next week, everyone around him would be talking excitedly about their homecomings, to see their families again, to bask in the warm, loving surroundings they had grown up in.
Not him.
Not that he wasn't aware that he had been gifted with the same circumstance.
It was just …. It wasn't the same.
He was aware of his luck at having found such a great family, he was aware of his good fortune of being accepted despite the circumstances with which he was found, he was aware that he should celebrate his new chance at life and accept that life went on. But even then, even despite the love he was surrounded with, the good friends he was surrounded with, he could not help but wonder.
What was it that had been so intrinsically wrong with him that his parents, his real family had to abandon him? What had they seen in his tiny face that had predisposed them to get rid of him without so much as a passing thought?
Or what if it hadn't been him? What if it was his parents that had the problem? What if they were the ones who had been dysfunctional? Who was to say that these traits were not hereditary? And as Mitsuru worried on his bunk above, a pair of blue eyes opened below and its owner’s head shook. He hoped that sooner or later Mitsuru would accept his happy circumstance as the miracle it was.
And as for his own sake, hopefully sooner. Mitsuru’s thoughts were keeping him awake.
Grumbling inwardly to himself, Shinobu turned over and closed his eyes, preparing himself either to sleep or guide his friend from any particularly dark path his thoughts might take.
* * *
“Suka! Suka! Your bag!”
Shun waved his bag over his head as he hurtled towards the redhead, poised precariously on the stairs, his arms full.
Suka watched in terror as Shun tripped and fell into...
... “Mitsuru?”
He blinked and finally stammered his thanks to the amber-head senior who had easily and competently caught Shun. Shaking his head, Mitsuru easily righted Shun and put him back down on his feet.
“No problem,” he winked. “I know how happy you would be to see Sumire and we really wouldn’t want you to go home in crutches, right?”
Blushing furiously and stammering about Igarashii and Sumire and all the thousands of reasons why Mitsuru shouldn’t say such things but thanks for saving him from almost certain doom, Suka grabbed his bags and fled the dormitory, fully aware of the chuckling sempai with mischief in his eyes. Behind him, Shun followed, waving eagerly at Mitsuru in farewell.
Mitsuru watched as the residents of 210 disappeared down the corner. They were the last two to leave.
“Okay,” he murmured to himself. “Time to pack up. Time to go home.” He slowly walked back down the corridor and towards the office where Shinobu sat, poring over the records. His roommate looked up in silent greeting and shifted slightly, making room for Mitsuru. The two of them sat in silence as together, they went through the inventory, making sure that every single pail, broom and mop and every single form was tallied and accounted for.
Finally they were done.
Mitsuru picked up the sheaf of papers and placed it neatly on the table. The dorm lady would probably like to see the records in the morning. Standing up, he looked at Shinobu.
“Ready to go?”
Shinobu nodded. Aa.
Mitsuru nodded as he waited for his roommate to pass through the door. Having a firm grip on the handle, he closed the door.
* * *
“Tadaima!” Mitsuru cheerfully announced as they stepped through the portal into the Ikeda household. “Kaasan!”
Mrs. Ikeda smiled in greeting from the living room, her dark eyes sparkling with welcome as she beheld her eldest son and his best friend. “Mitsuru. Shinobu. Welcome back.”
She hugged her son, and regarded him fondly. “Do try and come back more often. You know we miss your laughing presence here.”
“Hai, Kaasan.”
Turning to Shinobu, she smiled. “As always, you’re welcome here, Shinobu. Our house is your house. You can share the room with Mitsuru like always.”
Shinobu bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Sho!” she called out. “Mitsuru is back!”
A dark head poked his head out into the corridor. There was no question that Ikeda Masato was his mother’s child. In terms of build, hair and eye colour, they were similar enough, both having that same dark hair that characterized the Ikedas. His eyes lit up in welcome as he regarded his step-brother. “Hoi, aniki,” he greeted jovially.
Mitsuru smiled painfully back. “Hello, Sho.”
* * * *
The door slid closed and as they unpacked, Shinobu glanced sideways at his roommate in exasperation.
“You’re still hiding aren’t you?” he accused matter-of-factly as his eyes searched out lowered amber orbs that were determinedly focused on pulling clothes out of the bag. “Just now when Sho asked if you wanted to go to watch the movies, you side-stepped the issue, didn’t you?
A dirty shirt went into the laundry basket. “It’s not the same,” mumbled the boy defensively.
A silvery brow lifted. “And why’s that? You still want to watch the movie. After all, you pestered Shun and Suka the whole week. And if not, Sho, then who?”
Shinobu silently watched his friend move more clothes into the clothes hamper. Not surprisingly, Mitsuru didn’t want to talk about it. Even as close that they were, there were certain topics that were considered off-limits; Mitsuru’s constant rejection of his family, being one of them.
Shinobu sighed and returned to his packing. “I still think you should talk to them. You can’t always run and hide like this.”
* * *
“Oh did you see how Suka squirmed?” the boy crowed, his lavender eyes sparkling with mischief as he sipped his drink and looked to his friend for affirmation. “And how his face turned into such a shade of red.” His face crinkled in a grin as in his mind’s eye, he replayed the earlier scene and found it exactly how he had perceived it to be: downright hilarious.
Shinobu glanced at his roommate and smiled mildly, watching Mitsuru wave his hands wildly in a fair imitation of a flustered Suka, before he suddenly stopped.
“Mitsuru.”
Mitsuru turned around at the call, surprised. “Nani?”
Shinobu gestured down the street.
Mitsuru widened his eyes as he took in the scene. Dropping his drink, he ran towards the crowd.
Somebody was in a fight. Correction. To be more exact, Sho, Mitsuru’s own brother was in a fight.
Mitsuru entered into the fray, arms whirling. Quickly and competently, he dispatched three of the thugs in a flurry of clean, economical and efficient movements while the rest were quickly persuaded that retreat was a better option. The sudden dust cloud proved that.
“A minute and a half,” remarked Shinobu to no one in particular. “Nice job.”
But the comment fell on deaf ears as Mitsuru strode angrily towards Sho.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Sho looked up at his furious brother and stood up slowly, wiping the blood trickling from the side from his mouth. “What are you so angry for?” he asked nonchalantly.
Mitsuru stopped short and stared at Sho flabbergasted. “How in the world can you ask that? You were just in a fight! And you’re hurt and you’re bleeding and you were fighting! Of course I’m mad. What were you trying to prove? Why didn’t you come and tell me so that we could reconcile it peacefully?” His eyes fell on the bruises that marred Sho’s cheek. He was going to get a black eye if he didn’t put an ice pack on it soon. “Look at you! You dash off half-cocked like some flaming idiot to be some brave daring hero. Do you really think getting yourself beaten up is a good way to meet girls?”
Sho glared back. “Why do you care anyhow?”
“What are you talking about?” Mitsuru growled back. “Of course I’d care, baka.”
“That’s what you say now,” retorted Sho, wiping the blood of his split lip, “But I’d actually prefer a brother who’s around the place.”
Mitsuru’s face tightened. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re never around at home to see what’s happening and every time we want to go somewhere, you always try to slip out and go with your friends elsewhere. If you talk so much about caring for me, then try staying at one place for once.”
They stared at each other for a few moments in the silence that followed, before he stumbled off, Mitsuru too stunned to follow.
* * *
Evening time was a dismal affair, decided Mrs. Ikeda. For some reason, Sho kept staring down at his plate, refusing to meet anybody’s eyes, while Mitsuru kept pointedly looking at his brother, as though willing him to speak. The only person who was acting decidedly normal was Shinobu, who was calmly helping himself to the udon.
Mitsuru stared at Sho. We’ll talk later, he promised himself.
* * * *
Mitsuru finally managed to corner Sho in the courtyard raking up the leaves after his mother casually dropped a hint that Sho mentioned the task just before he had left. Mitsuru had winced at the polite statement, and had quietly murmured his thanks, both for the information and her quiet understanding that this was something he had to deal with by himself.
As it was, he was not looking forward to it and for a cowardly moment, he wished for his mother as a barrier. Still, that urge quickly faded as he came upon his brother, head down, tenacious attacking the brown dried leaves on the ground.
He stood slightly off one side, his hands in his pockets as he nervously regarded his brother. Now that he was here, he wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“Sho.” He greeted stiffly and felt the slightest pang as the boy stiffened at his voice, before he continued sweeping the ground with the single-minded concentration of before.
“Sho,” he started again, anger rising. “You can’t ignore me you know.”
“Mumble mumble.”
“What was that?” prompted Mitsuru as he walked a few steps closer and stopped, the white fingers clenching around the broom handle a warning.
“I said,” Sho gritted out, “If you can do it, so can I.”
“What do you mean by that?” retorted Mitsuru, guilt dancing lightly in his voice.
“You know what I mean.” Sho finally looked up, his eyes bright with hot, seething resentment. “If you can ignore me, your brother, there’s no reason why I can’t do the same as you.”
Before he knew it, Mitsuru was right in front of Sho, one hand tightly gripping onto his lapel, the other clenched tightly by his side.
“What do you mean by that? Is that any way to talk to me?”
“I can and I will. And what are you going to do? Hit me?” Sho sneered and Mitsuru saw red. One fist came flying out and knocked heavily into Sho’s jaw, whipping his head back. Astonished and shocked, Mitsuru dropped the suddenly limp body and backed away, his eyes wide with regret.
“Oh Sho… I’m so sorry….”
Getting up from the ground, the dark-haired boy flared at the older boy, and slowly, purposefully wiped away the trail of blood.
“You hit me.” He said, fury in his eyes, a tinge of disbelief in his tone, “You really hit me.”
“Look Sho,” Mitsuru stared down at the floor in apology. “I really didn’t mean to…. I… Oof…”
Mitsuru grimaced at the fist that had pounded painfully into his stomach and slowly lifted his eyes to meet the wildly grinning face of his brother, the familiar features contorted into an expression he had never seen before.
Easily blocking the follow up, Mitsuru sprang back, and skillfully dodged the next flurry of blows, wincing as a particularly enthusiastic one got past his guard.
“Sho! What do you think you’re doing?!”
Sho laughed bitterly as he continued jabbing at the amber-headed teenager. “Does it matter? Why do you care?”
“Because I’m on the other end.” Snapped Mitsuru who pushed beyond his control, grabbed his brother’s arm and twisted it around, ignoring the suppressed gasp of pain.
Sho looked back at his brother, his eyes gleaming with old pain and new fury. “Yeah. You’re always on the other side aren’t you brother dear? You’re on your side while the rest of us are on the other. Forget the fact that we’re family.”
“What in blazes are you talking about?” Mitsuru growled before he fell back in his pain at his brother’s well-placed blow to his shin.
“I mean,” Sho said through gritted teeth as he rained down blows on Mitsuru, “that it’s always you. That you’re never there. That you don’t think about this family, that this family doesn’t exist to you.”
“You’re wrong.” Mitsuru gritted out and he hopped up, the attacker this time while Sho evaded the blows. “You’re wrong. You don’t understand.”
“What’s there not to understand?” gasped Sho, quickly tiring from the exertions. “You don’t love us, plain and simple.”
“No.” Mitsuru growled and soon the air was punctuated by oaths and grunts and the sound of fists and feet hammering into flesh.
* * *
The two boys lay on the grass, completely exhausted, the neat piles of leaves that had existed long disintegrated into scattered pools of brown.
“Are you dead yet?” The older one managed to pant out as he stared up at the brilliant blue sky, achingly aware of every bruise and scratch on his body. The ones on his face were fast healing, but the other ones… it would sting for the next few days.
“No.” Sho mumbled back, his eyes closed.
“Good.” Mitsuru nodded in satisfaction then groaned slightly as his jaw started to sting. “Then I can kill you later.”
Silence.
“Why did you do this?”
Mitsuru looked over at his brother and his brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean why did you try to help me with those thugs?”
“Oh yes, those thugs.” Mitsuru turned back and stared up. “Well, I didn’t want to see you hurt. Which also reminds me, what did they want with you in the first place?”
“Nothing important,” Sho waved off, before grudgingly subsiding under his brother’s intimidating glare. “Oh all right. The boss thought that I was trying to take over the gang. I wasn’t.”
Mitsuru grunted. “I see. Don’t worry about that then. I’ll take care of it.”
Sho ‘s head turned to his brother again, his expression quizzical as he asked again, “Why? Why do you care?”
Mitsuru rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t want you hurt, baka.”
Sho shook his head. “I can take care of myself. Doesn’t matter. This could hurt you. So why should you care?”
Mitsuru stared at him. “Because you’re my…”
His eyes lowered at his brother’s steady gaze.
“Can’t say it can you?” Lifting his fist, Sho idly studied it before banging it back on the ground, a sound perilously close to a sob erupting from his throat. “Even after all this time, you can’t call us family, you can’t accept us such, and by that, can’t accept yourself. I didn’t realize it before but it soon dawned on me that you’d never call me brother. It was always Sho or kid or some affectionate insult. But you never once called me brother.”
Mitsuru sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “What’s the big deal? Why are you so insistent about that?”
Sho staggered up, hurt in the large pools of his eyes as he stared down at his uncomfortable brother. Shaking his head, he laughed, the hurt rippling through in resigned waves. “If you really mean that, perhaps you’re really not my brother.”
Limping slightly, he stalked off, resignation in every line of his body. Mitsuru watched after him, a large lump in his throat.
Groaning, he lay back on his back to stare up, unseeing, at the sky.
“What are you doing?” A familiar voice interrupted his bemused thoughts.
He turned his head slightly to watch his roommate carefully sit down on the grassy carpet and study the scenery. Precise as always. If there was anything about Shinobu, it was precise. “Thinking,” he muttered at last.
“That’s a first,” was the mild remark and Mitsuru fell silent.
A few minutes passed before he spoke again. “Do you think I have problems accepting my family and myself?”
“What brought this on?”
“Something Sho said.”
“After or before he beat you up?”
Mitsuru frowned. “During actually. The little guy packs quite a wallop.”
Shinobu half-smiled. “Of course, he is your brother,” then frowned as he watched his roommate automatically stifle a flinch. Stifling a sigh, he sat back and propped himself on his elbows. “I take it you’re groping towards an epiphany.”
Mitsuru scowled at him. “You don’t have to sound so long-suffering.”
“Can I help it? I’ve been trying to tell you that you have a good family for the past few years and that you should stop rejecting them. If I had known that beating you up would have cracked your skull wide enough to entertain that notion I’d have thrashed you within an inch of your life.”
“I know, I know,” grumbled the boy. ”I know I have a good family and I appreciate it…” He trailed off at the sudden sound of Shinobu’s snort and turned, growling. “Now what?”
“Can you hear yourself?” Shinobu asked, one fine brow arched. “You sound like you’re thanking a baker for a muffin.”
Mitsuru swore and tore up some grass, throwing it at him but Shinobu merely brushed them off coolly. “Your head may know that you have a good family but you heart has a long way to catch up. Once you recognize that fact, the rest should be easy.”
Getting up, he brushed the dust off his jeans and stared down at his friend, his eyes intense. “People would kill for a family such as yours Mitsuru. I don’t suggest you waste it.”
* * *
“Sho, do you have a minute?” The door slid open, and before Sho could protest, his brother let himself in.
He scowled at Mitsuru. “You could have waited for a reply for letting yourself in.”
Mitsuru shrugged easily, dismissing his brother. “I know you have a minute, and you would have let me in sooner or later, so why beat around the bush?” He brushed his hair back. “But that’s not why I’m here. Sho, we have to talk.”
“With your hands or with your mouth?”
Mitsuru looked down at his hands. “Look, I’m sorry okay?”
Sho looked up at him. “Fine, now you can leave.”
Mitsuru stared down at him exasperated, his hands on his hips. “What is your problem?!”
Sho stood up and shoved at his brother. “You are my problem.”
“What did I do?”
“It’s what you don’t do. You act nicer to friends than to family, you spend more time with friends than family. I don’t like the fact that we have to live on the scraps of your affection. We’re worth more than that. It’s like the fact that we actually accept you for who you are hurts you, and I don’t know how not to.
“There used to be a time when we were close, Mitsuru. When I could call you “aniki” without you flinching, and a time when we could talk and play together. Do you hate me that much?” Sho hugged himself.
“Sho… no… ” Mitsuru reached out but his hand was slapped away.
Sho jerked his head up. “Then why do you avoid us so much, Mitsuru? Why do you avoid the family that loves you so much?”
Mitsuru bit his lip and turned away. “It’s because I’m not part of you.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. You know we’ve never considered you anything other than family.”
Mitsuru sank to his feet, and looked up at the ceiling. “But why?” he asked hoarsely, voice rough with emotion. “Why, when I’m a ...”
“Orphan? You know we never treated you like one. You are my brother. My older brother. And nothing can change that.” He looked at Mitsuru straight in the face. “Nothing.”
Mitsuru stared into his earnest face for a few moments before shaking his head.
“You know,” he said slowly, “I could think you almost meant that.”
“What do you mean “almost meant that”?!” Sho half-screamed in frustration. “Of course I meant it… why else would I be beating you up?! It’s not like I beat everybody else up you know! You’re my brother and I know I can get away with doing that without you…”
Trailing off at the sight of Mitsuru’s heaving shoulders, Sho stopped, the corners of his mouth slowly turning up into a small smile, then a grin before splitting wide into large shouts of laughter that was accompanied by Mitsuru’s guffaws as he let loose his unrestrained mirth.
“Gosh Sho,” Mitsuru said, chuckling slightly as he wiped his eyes. “If you greet all your brothers like that you’re lucky you only have one brother. Or should I say that I should be thankful that I have one brother?”
“Yup, that’s what I think…” Sho started, only to trail off slowly as he stared at Mitsuru, his brown eyes wide. “What did you say again?”
Mitsuru half-smiled before shaking his head. “I’m not repeating that again.”
Instead of laughing and trying to bully it out of him as Mitsuru expected, Sho slowly stepped forward, sank down on his knees and carefully hugged the elder boy even as he gaped at him.
“Thank you.” Sho said simply and Mitsuru felt something gathering behind his eyes as he slowly, awkwardly returned the hug.
“It’s not going to be easy you know.” He began slowly, his voice cloudy with emotion. “You can’t expect things to change overnight.”
“I know.” Sho drew back, his own eyes shining. “But at least you’ll be trying.”
* * *
Shinobu smiled quietly to himself as the angry shouts from the next room stilled and was replaced with what sounded suspiciously like muffled sobs.
Finally.
He reached out and pulled the photograph from the drawer counter and regarded it; regarded the four smiling faces, each one bound together by the tie of love. Mitsuru had a twin of this back in Greenwood by his bedside, and on his more morose moments had often commented about how different he was, how it was impossible that they could ever be a family. He was an orphan, and that intrinsically made him alone.
Baka. Perhaps now he’d realize.
It was about time anyway.
~ owari ~
comments? Please send them over, kudasai! ^_^
HTMLing done by Jop, 2000.