Home is where the heart is 6/7

A Koko wa Greenwood fanfic by Jop & Yen

Characters belong to Yukie Nasu and in no way belong to me. So please don't sue. No money, no money. :)

Warnings: That same foul word appears again. *grimaces* Be warned... -___-

********************************************************************************************************

Chapter 06

They were avoiding him.

Not that anyone really needed his precognitive skills to notice, Shinobu mused as he walked down the halls of Ryokurin Academy, observing the antics of his fellow Greenwood boarders with chilly amusement.

Subtlety was obviously a skill they were not passingly familiar with as they eep-ed or gasped as they saw him, before quickly ducking out of sight.

In Hasukawa’s case, the dramatic exit he indulged in would definitely have been noticeable, even to the most unobservant of dolts.

Falling out of a window normally was.

Fortunately for the redhead, his portal had been on the first floor. Not so fortunately, was the fact that the flowers customarily planted around the academy had thorns to deter the rabid fangirls they had been imbued with since the entrance of two certain sempai. He briefly wondered about what exactly Mitsuru had told them about their conversation to occasion such violent reactions but realized a moment later that it didn’t really matter.

The fulminating glances that the blonde often threw his way told Shinobu that forgiveness on his best friend’s part would not be forthcoming without an explanation, and while a part of him rejoiced at the unexpected privacy, he was also uncomfortably aware of the sudden isolation he had been dealt with.

It was strange how quickly one could get used to warm camaraderie, even despite the efforts one makes at self-reliance. His customary journey to the library seemed now like an exercise in solitude, even though normally he was the lone person on his journey there, Mitsuru and friends devoutly believed in helping him along learning’s arduous journey with “study enhancements” known as television, radio, snacks and banter, banter that he used to detest at times especially when he was trying to memorize a fact but now strangely missed.

“Daijoubu, Shinobu-sempai?” Are you alright?

Shinobu glanced at the shorter kyoudai at his side. After his disappearance from the Academy, Fuse had been following him around wherever he went, never failing to make sure that Shinobu had everything he needed. It was almost as if the boy was suddenly made out of spun glass and had to be treated like such. For a brief instance Shinobu felt a familiar flare of annoyance but stopped just as the words could slip out. It was not Fuse’s fault he was feeling that way. He was just concerned.

Shinobu shook his head. “Betsuni, Fuse. Everything is fine.” Quickly, his brain raced for a reason to send the boy away. Immediately, he found one. ” Why don’t you go ahead first? I believe you have classes now which run past lunch.”

Fuse bobbed his head and after making one final check that Shinobu was indeed okay, ran ahead and disappeared down the corridor.  Shinobu sighed and turned to the other direction, about to climb the stairs when a sudden flicker of movement caught his eye.

Half-turning, he stared coldly behind him. Two men in black suits squealed at the unexpected action of their stalk-ee and comically leapt behind a lamp and postbox respectively in an attempt to hide. Their attempts might have been more successful however had the tall and skinny A exchanged places with the short and stout C.

As it was, Shinobu merely shook his head and sighed again. He was too tired to put them in their place and certain that they would surrender now that they had been noticed, he continued on, unaware of their more sinister purpose.

“Well?” A asked C impatiently, jabbing at the shorter man who grumbled about knobbly elbows and lazy partners. However, the revelation that had come upon him was too unbelievable for him to do more than slap the arm away.

“D was right!” He half-gasped in shock. “He is less alert. Yesterday, he spotted the others in 3 seconds. Today, it’s 5!”

A shook his head and commented sagely, ”I’d never have believed it if I didn’t see it. Shinobu-sama used to know that you were going to follow him even before Miss Nagisa gave the order. Used to be such a thoughtful child too, telling us where he was going to be at what time so we didn’t really have to skulk around. If only they hadn’t changed him…”

He sighed again, the old man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His fellow stalker grunted in reply and shook his head at the other’s whimsy.

“So what do we do now?”

A straightened up and took out his phone, his face quickly reverting back to customary stony profile. “Tell Miss Nagisa of course. She’d want to know. Shinobu-sama can take care of himself. We, on the other hand, can’t.”

* * *

Four days. Four long days of denial.

“Sempai,” Suka finally voiced out quietly one day, as he slipped into Room 211 after his daily count of the dorm-mates in Greenwood. As was the last week or more, he had unwillingly marked an absent for one Tezuka Shinobu. “I think you’re being an idiot.”

Mitsuru lifted his head from the book that he had been studying, genuinely puzzled. “What? What prompted this, Suka?”

“You know full well what I’m talking about – this impasse you have between you and Shinobu-sempai.”

Instantly, Mitsuru’s happy face dropped and the boy scowled. “Hasukawa…” his voice raised warningly, dropping the affectionate slur that he constantly used on the boy.

“This is getting ridiculous. Now you’re acting as if there’s absolutely nothing wrong between the two of you, when it is obvious to anybody who bothers to look. Worse is you’re trying to fool yourself.” Suka huffed and glared at his sempai, daring the latter to retort back.

“He started it.”

 "So? You were so worried when he went missing on all of us and now that he’s back, you act like he does not exist? Or if he does, he’s a verbal sparring partner? Don’t even pretend that the shouting match that happened yesterday didn’t occur. The whole school heard it.”

Silence.

Hasukawa sighed, raking his hair in exasperation. This was not going the way he had planned it to be. Instead of persuading Mitsuru-sempai to make peace with Shinobu-sempai, he had instead stirred the ire of the former. At a loss for words, he finally burst out.

“Don’t you think that it’s gone for long enough? Don’t you think it’s time for Shinobu-sempai to come home?”

Silence.

Suka sighed, and after a long moment, brought out a folded slip of paper and prodded it at Mitsuru's turned back. “Well, I managed to get Shinobu-sempai’s number – no, don’t ask how I got it, just take it as I did – and if you do want to patch things up with him, you can talk to him.” He had not expected the sudden help from Kazuhiro, but was grateful when his brother had appeared one day and had passed the number to him, a number which Aoki himself could not trace.

Mitsuru watched the junior’s retreating back as he disappeared out of the door. He looked at the wad of paper left besides him and stared at it for long moments. Gingerly, his hands reached for it.

* * *

Home is where the Heart is

Chapter 07

That night I had a dream and found myself back in Greenwood. There were a few people there: Hasukawa, Shun, Furisawa, Aoki – and Mitsuru. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, kind of like the days when school was closed but the dorm was still open and not many people were around. We were not doing anything particularly exceptional or interesting  – just sitting in the (relative) cool comfort of Room 211 and watching the day slowly drift by over a pile of beer.

And it was something in this most unexceptional of scenes that felt right. The squabbling between Mitsuru and Suka even as the boy flushed a beet red, the genkiness of Shun, the quiet presence of Aoki until stirred by a video game… I couldn’t find the words, but in my dream, I found myself saying quietly to myself, “this is home – this is where I belong. Not amidst my parents, not amidst my sibling, not even amidst my school peers.” Words which I would never say in waking escaped through my lips and it was as if in that very moment, I was back with them, in this dreamland that my mind had conjured up for me, on a night that suddenly seemed more bearable and less lonely.

And then reality intruded.

*.*.*

A meeting. No more, no less.  Initially he had wanted to rebuff Mitsuru’s weak attempt of meeting up with a cold remark, to tell him that he had an upcoming exam to work out but some vestige of the dream has lingered and before he knew it, he had accepted. Had accepted to meet his former roommate at the beef udon restaurant. Shinobu gripped the pen by his side, hand clenching into a tight fist before he let go again, the only willing form of self-expression he was going to make. It had been a long two hours, sitting in the library, with the humming of the air conditioner and the quiet rustling of pages. A long three hours before his meeting.

Weak, Shinobu muttered to himself as he flipped to the next page of his history book. Tezuka Shinobu, you are getting weak. And now you can barely concentrate on your assignment. 

With a determined snarl at his weakness, Shinobu concentrated one more time and finally, names and dates squeezed slowly into his brain before being neatly stacked up into the relevant compartments.

I don’t care, thought Shinobu as he finally shut the book. It’s just a meeting that’s all. Stepping out of the cool building, the humid air hit him with a slap before obediently dissipating around him. As he made his way back, he briefly wondered whether the student council had enough funds to treat the whole school to ice-cream – only to be pulled up short as he recalled the recent situation between himself and the invisible vacuum of space he had acquired with the recent times. Well, except one anyway.

“Come back, sempai.” Three simple words that he had found scrawled on a note and slipped into his locker. He knew what it must have cost the pink-haired boy to be willing to brave his beloved sempai’s wrath to be willing to step across the line when specifically ordered not to. Being of an easy nature and happy-go-lucky character, Shun would usually prefer to stand by the sidelines and wait for a happier outcome, relying on others to be the pro-active one.

But when it boiled down to the truth, he had to acknowledge to himself that he was just plain tired of it all. Tired of all the side glances or outright glares that he knew that were being directed his way. Tired of the way Mitsuru’s face would mask over when somebody would approach and enquire if the two of them had a falling out, and his quick reply that everything was fine and that they were still best of friends. Either way, this meeting would settle everything. He could tell Mitsuru that he had already found an apartment near the school and would be coming back to Greenwood one more time to pick up his belongings. And if he examined even further, he would realize that he missed them.

He missed his friends.

There, he finally said it, he mused; turning the word over his mind experimentally. Finally said that he missed the people that made his dreary lonely existence complete. People where he needn’t be strong, cunning, brilliant and all-round super-human to all the time, where he could be just be Shinobu.

Hasukawa. Shun. Mitsuru. And to a smaller extent, the rest of Greenwood.

Still, he still had an hour to decide but…. returning to his present abode was not an attractive option. It didn’t feel like home. But then nowhere did.

Behind, one man mourned at the sudden degeneration of ability of his family’s young master.

Shinobu’s eyes narrowed. He studied the road ahead of him, a road that suddenly seemed to consist primarily of men in black suits. Turning back, he noted that the dress code of those behind him was surprisingly familiar as well.

“Yes?” He cocked his brow at the two before him, figures he recognized vaguely as Bouchii Matsumoto and Amon Kahito.

D stepped forward bravely and cleared his throat, gesturing nervously at the black Mercedes that had suddenly materialized by the pavement. “We would like you to come with us Shinobu-sama.”

No response.

“Please?” D asked weakly.

“No.” Shinobu shook his head and continued walking down the street, towards the restaurant. And towards the large group of bodyguards that rumbled nervously at the approach. As Shinobu moved closer, he noticed the sweat-stained foreheads, the nervous glances, but most importantly, the shrieking voice of his sister as it screamed from twenty over earpieces to “JUST GRAB HIM ALREADY!”

He watched with unconcern as they moved towards him, still preoccupied with puzzling out the exact location of his dear sister from the static generated and the background noises he could hear from where he stood.

Probably higher up, he deduced… hands closed lightly and uncertainly around his arms… since there’s less noise from the street, and in an office building, since there are telephones ringing in the background… those same hands tugged lightly at him, as if in disbelief that he was in their grasp and allowing them to do so… and if we’re in Oimachi, on Roku Avenue, then it would be either Hoteru Masa or Wakatari Towa, unless she’s in a building we don’t own… gently nudging him towards the car…

Shinobu was abruptly distracted by a flash of pink and his gray eyes automatically sought out for the familiar shade of hair. Shun? He saw the junior’s eyes open wide in shock and for one moment, his heart seemed about to take a small leap, only to plunge as the small teenager whirled around to disappear back around the corner.

Shinobu mentally shook his head. He should have known better than to hope… the only person he could rely on was himself. He ignored the tiny part of him that sighed at the cynicism, and the tinier part of that that mourned the loss of what he had assumed was friendship. And the tiniest part that wondered why family was so easily grasped for others, and so difficult to hold for him…

The sudden thunder of hundreds of feet and screams from hidden passerbys woke him from his reverie and his head lifted to gape, for the very first time, at the scene before him. At least a hundred over boys stood before him, surrounding the henchmen that Nagisa had sent.

A hundred over boys that he recognized… from Greenwood. They stood there in various states of attire, some still in uniform, others in clothes more suitable for the summer heat, while a few looked as if they had been caught in the midst of their bath. Mitsuru appeared to have been one of them, towel cinched firmly around his waist, sodden mass that passed as hair when dry dripping water into his eyes and down his back and eyes red rimmed from the unpleasant sensation of being irritated by shampoo.

But all however had the same, identical pugnacious expression on their faces. Almost akin to an angry mother lion, fiercely protective of her cub.

Mitsuru stepped forward, as always, the spokesperson for the mob; flanking behind him, the usual two lieutenants, both appearing unnaturally somber and aggressive.

“Take your hands off him.” Mitsuru directed, eyes steady on the goons in front of him. Behind Suka and Shun, the boarders took one step forward as well, tightening the circle even closer around the trapped men, several of whom started pulling at their collars.

Shinobu sighed softly as A and B removed their offending limbs and stepped slowly and stiffly back.

“Shinobu?” Mitsuru said, eyes still intent on the twenty odd men that were involved in the failed kidnapping.

The lavender-haired teenager took one step towards his friends, then another and another, till he stood directly in front of Mitsuru. While he stared at his roommate, he was painfully aware of the intense scrutiny of the others.

“Shinobu?” Mitsuru asked again, eyes still stern though his voice was filled with concern.

“I’m fine.” Shinobu acknowledged the unasked question and watched as a ripple of relief ran through the crowd. Satisfied, Mitsuru called out to Nagisa’s men again, voice cold and filled with threat.

“From now on, you leave him alone. If he disappears, we’ll be looking for you.” He paused significantly. “All of us.”

Behind Mitsuru, the rabble murmured in assent and the men gulped. Greenwood was *not* a small dormitory.

From behind, one brave voice muttered weakly, in a brave attempt to defend themselves. “We were told to bring him home. Miss Nagisa mentioned that he was not feeling comfortable with his present living condition.”

Mitsuru’s mouth opened, ready for a hot retort at anyone believing in Nagisa’s words, only to be stopped dead by a steady soft comment from his side. “I am home.”

Shinobu eyed the men that stood across from where he stood with the Greenwood boarders, an invisible barrier between the two groups. For a brief moment, the dream flickered in his mind and he repeated his words again, for their benefit.

“I am home.”

Nagisa’s helpers stared at each other before they all shrank in on themselves. They quickly retreated, squeezing out of the crowd through a small path that the boys deigned to make before all of the rescuers rushed forward to crowd around Shinobu, the latter facing heated questions of whether he was all right, whether he needed anything.

“Yes yes I’m fine.” He murmured again and again, declining the offers of aid and support that surrounded him from all sides. Finally, satisfied that their erstwhile leader was truly safe and in full control of all his faculties (having been unduly alarmed at the sight of him allowing Nagisa’s men to touch him), the teenagers slowly made their way back to their original locations in twos and threes.

Except those that mattered to him the most.

Turning around, he watched Mitsuru stomp back to the direction of Greenwood, face burning as red as a beet at the catcalls that were being directed his way by passerbys and the loud squeals of girls; muttering about inconvenient roommates while Shun smiled at Shinobu and skipped off with a suddenly frantic Suka who commandeered his best friend for an impromptu search of their room for his history essay that had to be passed up the next day.

He stood by himself, alone at the crossroads. Two directions he could go: one would lead him back to his hotel room, and the other…

… the other back home.

* * *

Home is where the Heart is

Chapter 08: epilogue

Mitsuru looked up as his roommate came in slowly and thoroughly toweling his hair dry. He grunted at the blank look he received and turned his back towards Shinobu, eyes in mid roll as he did so. Letting his hand fall, Shinobu stood in the middle of the room, his old room, feeling surprisingly vulnerable and not liking the sensation much. One of the reasons was simple.

He didn’t know where to start. The slick words that he had originally planned to say before he had stepped in suddenly felt … inadequate and hollow.

Mitsuru, I just want to say – I just want to say –

Mitsuru threw his friend a side-glance, huffed and gestured for Shinobu to sit down. “Well, sit down already. It’s not like as if this is not your room.”

Mitsuru, when he was in his more violent moods, had a tendency to destroy furniture and everything that he got his hands in touch with, yet strangely enough, everything had been left in its original location, untouched and preserved. Shinobu’s hand lingered on his table as he lowered himself down, fingertips noting the lack of dust that should have covered his desk by now. Had Mitsuru been cleaning up? His mind flashed back to another room where there was a futon instead of a bed, and there was a person with an easy smile and an understanding heart.

“Why?” He finally asked.

“Because you’re one of us.” Mitsuru turned around, confused at the question.

“But you were angry with me.”

“That’s right.” Mitsuru nodded firmly as he sat down, facing Shinobu. “Still am. But I’m willing to wait till you untwist whatever needed untwisting in your brain before I beat you up.”

“You mean before you *try* to beat me up.” Shinobu corrected automatically, watching Mitsuru closely.

The blonde narrowed his eyes. “You’re one to talk… weren’t you the one who needed rescuing a minute ago?”

“No,” Shinobu countered evenly. “I didn’t. Cold bastards like me never need rescuing.”

There. He said it, Shinobu thought even as he watched his friend stiffen. The bitter canker was out in the open.

“I thought that was it.” He heard his friend mutter under his breath, amethyst eyes hidden behind amber bangs. “Listen Shinobu, you might be a cold bastard at times but you’re still my friend and no one, least of all me, has the right to call you that.”

His voice softened even more. “I’m really sorry about what I said.”

Shinobu studied Mitsuru, body hunched in repentance, and shook his head, voice tinged with mild fondness. “Baka. Mitsuru no baka.”

Mitsuru pushed his hair out of his face and glowered at his friend, even as his heart lightened in the face of the cheerful remark.  “And…” He continued strongly, “If no one has the right to call you a cold bastard when you’re being one, no one has the right to call me baka… especially when I’m not acting like one.”

Shinobu rolled his eyes, dismissing Mitsuru with a mere glance. “Baka.”

Mitsuru growled and stood up, hands pushing at the cuffs of his sleeves threateningly. But just as Shinobu thought he was about to launch into some rave, he bent instead and pulled out a basket of oranges, eyes glittering with warm amusement and triumph. “Bakas don’t get their hands on Fujikake’s oranges, do they?” He selected one with a practiced eye and extended it to Shinobu. “Want one?”

He smiled as Shinobu reached for it, watched as his friend stripped it of its skin in his usual efficient manner and then split it in two, silently extending one portion to Mitsuru who took it in silent acknowledgement. There were still many more bridges to mend, but now there was opportunity to do so, more sunsets to watch over, more oranges to eat…

And behind the wall, two smiles shone.

~ owari ~

---------------------------------------------

Author’s notes: And here comes Yen’s conclusion to the tale of the matter…

~ OWARI ~

~ THE END ~

~ FINITO ~

~ WAN ~

~ NOT TO BE CONTINUED ~

~ NO FURTHER EXPANSION~

~ NO FURTHER STRUCTURE~

~ THE END OF THE ROAD ~

~ HABIS ~

~ OVER ~

please???

comments? Please send them over, kudasai! ^_^

HTMLing done by Jop, 2000.