Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationships:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2010-10-20
Completed:
2010-10-20
Words:
19,797
Chapters:
5/5
Kudos:
10
Hits:
109

Moss on Stone

Summary:

"Nobody wants to be alone."

Chapter 1: 01

Summary:

A few days later Kenzo was back where he spent most of his free time, gravel paths deserted before his eyes, gravestones as silent as ever. He didn’t need company, didn’t desire voices around him. The only voice he wanted to hear rested ten feet away, six feet down, forever silent.

Chapter Text

Their story started with a collision, an accidental meeting brought on by chance and chance alone. Kenzo wasn’t even in his regular grocery store, just a tiny convenience store on a random corner far from his apartment. He was out of cigarettes and went into the first available establishment, never thinking twice about it. His life was simple and routine bound, had been for too many years and would’ve stayed so if not for the moment when his eyes slid to a row of candy and lost focus on the path in front of him. One minute he was looking at chocolate covered animal crackers and the next he was sprawled on the floor, a bundle of human limbs and strawberry blond hair awkwardly keeping him pinned down.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!”

It was the first words Hiroto ever spoke to him, and his apology was rewarded with anger and rudeness.

“Yes you are, get off me you fucking idiot.”

Hiroto got up, mostly shoved by Kenzo, with embarrassment and humiliation burning on his cheeks. Big brown eyes tinted with sadness meeting unforgiving black ones, an end before any chance of a beginning. Or so it would’ve been had Hiroto been anyone else, lived by any other code or been any less determined. Something sparked that day, despite it all, despite Kenzo – a new beginning.

- - -

A few days later Kenzo was back where he spent most of his free time, gravel paths deserted before his eyes, gravestones as silent as ever. He didn’t need company, didn’t desire voices around him. The only voice he wanted to hear rested ten feet away, six feet down, forever silent.

“Hi.”

Someone sat down next to him on the bench and had Kenzo not been so utterly shocked he would’ve told whoever it was to fuck off. This was his sanctuary, the only place he felt a semblance of calm in the raging anger that was his life. On the outside Kenzo was like most people, a little more snappy and a little less social, but nothing to put him aside from the masses. He went to work and completed his tasks on time, lived alone and never caused a fuss. Inside however, inside he was a raging inferno of negative emotions he didn’t know how to vent, because no one cared.

“You? What do you want?”

It was the kid from the store, the one even smaller than Kenzo himself. Calling him a kid was probably unfair, in fact they looked to be about the same age. But he was a nuisance, much like children were, and Kenzo wanted him gone.

“I thought you looked lonely over here.”

“Maybe I want to be.”

Normally his rudeness worked like a charm, no one wanted to be around a man who was flat out foul and insolent as a first impression. Kenzo responded any approach, no matter how kind or caring, with insults and mean remarks, it was his nature and as soon as people realised as much they took off. Normally it only took a sentence or two on his behalf, but it was still time and effort he’d never get back.

“Nobody wants to be alone.”

- - -

He had no idea how it happened. One day he was trying to fight off unwanted attention, the next he was sitting down at a café, sipping coffee laced with so much sugar it could be sold as candy and eyeing strawberry blond hair suspiciously. Hiroto, that was his name, the boy that’d run into him and simply never left. He’d showed up nearly every time Kenzo went to the cemetery, sitting down next to him on the bench to talk and smoke a few cigarettes. Kenzo never replied, only snapped and begged to be left alone, but his wishes were never granted.

He had no idea why he’d agreed to meet at a different spot, why he’d showed up to the tiny little café hidden away on a backstreet he didn’t even know existed. It would’ve been so him to say yes and then simply ignore the meeting, but somehow he knew the blond would only come back to the bench and look at him with sad eyes and ask why he stood him up.

“You came, I’m glad.”

Hiroto sat down opposite of Kenzo, a bright smile on his face even as sadness still tinted his big brown eyes. His coffee contained a bit of cream and nothing more, just enough to round off the flavour and cool the liquid down to a drinkable temperature.

“I came so you’ll leave me alone.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense!”

He was getting irritated, irritated for being him which was saying something. Kenzo hated not being in control and in front of Hiroto he felt entirely out of it, as if the blond could see right through him. It was unnerving and made him jumpy, uncertain of what to do and how to act. How do you get rid of someone who only clings harder the more you try to push them away?

“I get that a lot.”

Even when saying such a thing the smile never left Hiroto’s lips. Most people found him strange, childish in the way he just kept trying, never gave up on anyone. Even the people who’d known him all his life, who knew why, said it didn’t make sense. He didn’t expect Kenzo, who had only just met him, and unwillingly so to that, to grasp what he was trying to do. Some days Hiroto wasn’t even sure he knew himself.

“Then stop it.”

“I don’t think I can.”

The normal thing would’ve been to ask why, show curiosity at a rather obvious invite. Hiroto was an extremely open person and he let it be known with every word off his tongue, every action carried out by body and mind, but Kenzo was the opposite. He didn’t like questions and so he asked none.

They finished their coffee in silence.

- - -

Kenzo grunted as a shadow fell across his face. The day was bright and sunny and he wanted nothing more than to absorb the warms rays in peace and sleep, so what if it meant skipping class and probably getting in trouble later. There was always a way to talk yourself out of problems, he was good at excuses.

“Get away.”

It didn’t matter who it was, he didn’t want them around. Especially not if they were blocking his sunlight.

“Always so polite.”

Black eyes opened just in time to see the water bottle tip over and luckily closed just as quickly. There was little he could do about his face getting flushed though and with a yelp Kenzo turned onto his stomach, coughing as water run down his nose unpleasantly.

“Aki! I’m gonna bloody kill you for that!”

Aki was in no position to reply, the tall youth was currently rolling around on the grass laughing his heart out. Biting his lip Kenzo pondered what to do, then mentally smacked himself for even asking. With surprise on his side he easily overpowered his friend and pinned him to the ground, sunlight reflecting prettily in the brand new metal studs in Aki’s lower lip.

“Got ya...”

His grin was met by Aki’s own and the one year older purred delighted.

“I should waterlog you more often if this is the reaction I get.”

“If you want me on top of you all you have to do is ask.”

Ignoring the dull ache in his lip Aki reached up and caught ragged lips with his own, enjoying the way Kenzo immediately took control of the kiss and swallowed his sounds of appreciation. Kenzo kept his eyes open even as Aki closed his and felt a familiar tingle between his thighs, it really was too hot to be clothed anyway.

- - -

“Why do you come to the graveyard every day?”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you you ask too many questions?”

“Yes, many.”

They were back on the bench, Kenzo bench which had somehow become their bench. Hiroto still did most of the talking, about the weather, the news, things that happened in his university classes. He was older than his classmates, but he’d chosen to work after high school and thus never continued his education. Now he studied medicine, wanting to become a doctor one day and help people, at least that was what he’d said. Kenzo wasn’t sure if it suited him or if he’d become a damn annoying doctor.

“Good, then shut up.”

“Why?”

Perhaps the kid, it really was unfair to call someone two years younger a kid but he didn’t care, really was retarded, his answers rarely impressed. Kenzo lit up another cigarette and glanced sideways at Hiroto.

“Because it’s rude.”

He realised his mistake just as the words left his lips. Hiroto chuckled.

“Says who?”

In a way Kenzo wanted to smirk at that, he’d been corned and there really was no point in trying to talk his way out of it. But it’d been so long since he felt genuinely amused the actions got stuck somewhere halfway. He snorted and that was all, but the sound wasn’t quite as hostile as normally. Hiroto smiled, he knew he’d won this round and more importantly, Kenzo knew it too.

- - -

Winter slowly crept over Tokyo, bringing cold in its wake and reviving Hiroto’s senses. He had nothing against summer and sun and warmth, but winter meant happy memories for him. Nearly every memory he had brought sorrow with it, but Hiroto still had a way to distinguish between the happy and the plain sad ones. Winter, to him, meant sitting indoors cuddled up underneath a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate, warm limbs wrapped around him as a movie played on the TV.

“What are you smiling about?”

Kenzo looked impossible small where he sat curled in on himself on the bench, knees drawn up to his chest and hidden beneath at least a couple layers of fur. Hiroto tilted his head to the side at the rather endearing sight.

“You look cute.”

He got a raised eyebrow for that one before Kenzo ignored him altogether in favour of blowing out a giant cloud of smoke. Hiroto sat down in his usual spot and took off his mittens.

“Here.”

“What?”

“Your hands are practically blue, take them.”

It was painfully obvious Kenzo wasn’t used to such treatment, Hiroto had noticed it early on in their acquaintanceship. He had no way to know for sure, but he was rather certain Kenzo was a very lonely man.

“I can’t smoke with gloves on.”

“Look.”

Surprisingly enough he was allowed to grab Kenzo’s hand and put the mitten on it. He could see understanding light in black eyes even before he pulled the top of the mitten back and revealed the clever secret of the garment. Inside the mitten there was a glove with the tips cut off, leaving about half of the fingers bare and clear to hold a cigarette.

“Keep them, that way only your fingertips have to freeze, and I doubt you’ve got much circulation left in them anyway.”

Kenzo looked uncertain, almost at a loss of what to do even, but eventually he picked up the other mitten as well and put it on.

“I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity, see it as...an early Christmas present.”

He was pretty much expecting a clever comeback to that statement, or at the very least a snort, but he only got silence and a shrug. Hiroto smiled and lit up a cigarette of his own, that reaction was worth the loss of a pair of mittens.

- - -

“Why smoke if you wanna be a doctor?”

Hiroto chuckled softly, it was a question he often got from his classmates. He was the only one in class who smoked and even the quite nasty pictures of blackened lungs didn’t make him want to stop. Smoking too held memories, a lot of memories.

“I smoke because I like it.”

“You’ll make a fucked up doctor.”

It might be true, he definitely wasn’t the ideal picture of a medicine student. He didn’t work out all that much, didn’t eat as healthy as he could’ve, preferred rock concerts over outdoor walks, and smoked at least a few packs a week.

“As long as I can save some lives I’m good.”

Kenzo flashed his eyebrows and flicked the cigarette butt down the gravel road.

“No pressure.”

- - -

Hiroto looked up as a tray was put down and someone took a seat on the opposite side of table. It looked like a senior student and he had never seen him before, Hiroto knew for a fact he would remember a face like that!

“Do you mind? I thought you looked lonely over here.”

The loop-sided smile directed his face had Hiroto all but blushing. It was ridiculous, the guy was probably some kind of prefect or similar, a senior student being kind to a painfully obvious newbie.

“No, no, thank you.”

“First day?”

Hiroto looked up surprised, met surprisingly pale eyes full of welcome and generosity.

“Yes, I just transferred from a different school. How did you know?”

The other guy smiled, nearly smirked, in a way that had him blushing. Hiroto wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him like that and it made him feel special in ways he wasn’t sure he should when it was a man looking at him. Scratch that, he knew he shouldn’t feel special or like it when a man looked at him like that, but even more he knew it was men he wanted to look at him like that. It hadn’t been easy to accept, but Hiroto had realised women held no interest to him whatsoever.

“I would’ve remembered seeing you around. I’m Tora.”

Hiroto smiled insecurely, half afraid this was some kind of joke and he’d get bashed if he played along.

“Hiroto, thanks for keeping me company.”

Tora shrugged.

“Nobody wants to be alone.”

- - -

The more time they spent together, the less Kenzo understood Hiroto. The young blond was an enigma unlike any he’d encountered, patient in a way Kenzo himself had never been, kind to the brink of being naive, and on top of it all some weird mixture of curious and crazy. It was confusing to say and the least, yet the most troublesome part was he found he grew more fond of the company by the day.

“You never told me who you come here for.”

“None of your business.”

Kenzo didn’t want the company, or rather he didn’t want the bond that came with spending time with someone. He didn’t want to connect with another human on a personal level because he didn’t want the pain that came when that person went away. Hiroto would leave, disappear or let him down one way or another, it was just a matter of time.

“Want to see my grave?”

It was a ridiculous way to word it and Kenzo almost hated himself for understanding exactly what it was Hiroto meant by it. Somewhere in the cemetery there was a grave holding a person dear to Hiroto, a grave he visited regularly and needed to come back to. It had nothing to do with himself, it wasn’t where Hiroto would rest one day, it wasn’t his grave in that sense. But it was his in the sense that he cared for it, that the person resting there had once been his one way or another.

Kenzo got that, understood it so perfectly well, and that alone scared him. He wanted to say no, wanted to walk away and never be bothered with the offer ever again, but maybe, just maybe, it meant Hiroto would understand too.

“Okay.”

- - -

He could still see his bench from where they were standing in front a rather new tombstone. In many ways it was strange they hadn’t seen each other before, him and Hiroto, but then they hadn’t been looking. Or at least he hadn’t, whether Hiroto had seen him before he didn’t know, didn’t care either. Hiroto also hadn’t been around very long, merely two years according to the date of death.

Amano Shinji, 2008

The sadness he’d seen in Hiroto’s eyes so many times was more evident than ever standing there, looking at a simple black stone. Kenzo recognised the look, the longing, the grief, but he didn’t understand how the blond could smile. The slight curve of his lips made an already innocent face even softer and if you avoided his eyes you couldn’t tell he was in pain at all. But he was.

“Everyone called him Tora.”

He said it so casually, almost as if he was introducing them, and it made Kenzo even more angry, not that he knew why. Hiroto wasn’t looking his way, but he could practically feel the younger’s hope he’d question the name, the person, anything. A normal man would’ve, Kenzo was pretty sure of that, but he was also certain he did not qualify as normal, not by a long shot.

Snorting he turned on his heel, not a word of goodbye as he walked away, escaped, fled what he didn’t know how to handle. The sound of Hiroto moving closer to the grave was almost drowned by the rustling of his own clothing as he dug around his pocket for a cigarette, lighting it up only on the third attempted click of his lighter.

“That’s Kenzo, the one I told you about.”

He stopped as he heard his name, tempted to turn around but scared to draw attention to himself. It didn’t make sense, the graveyard had been deserted as far as he could see, there was no one Hiroto could be talking to. No one except...

“I don’t think he means to be rude, he’s just...”

Glancing over his shoulder Kenzo saw Hiroto seated in front of the black stone, carefully picking twigs and leaves away from its top and the space in front of it. The way his fingers kept touching the cold surface, stroke it as if it was alive and able to feel the almost intimate touches, made him certain Tora had been Hiroto’s lover. He wondered what had happened to him, yet he didn’t want to know. Swallowing hard and inhaling deep, soothed by the familiar feeling of acrid smoke going down his lungs, he kept walking.

“He doesn’t talk much, as you might’ve noticed, so I can’t know for sure, but I think he’s rather lonely.”

Somehow Kenzo knew Hiroto was looking at him while speaking those words, yet he didn’t even turn around to glare.

- - -

It took ten days till Hiroto saw Kenzo again, and when he did the other looked like he hadn’t slept at all since their last encounter. In all honestly he wouldn’t be too surprised if that was the case, Hiroto was fairly certain Kenzo came to the graveyard everyday. Whether he’d stayed away altogether or been around when he wasn’t was impossible to tell, but either way Kenzo had spent less time than normal on ‘his’ bench.

“Did I scare you last time?”

Kenzo raised an eyebrow as he looked up at him, then took a final drag on his cigarette and tossed it on the ground. Pulling his knees up, much like he’d been sitting the day Hiroto gave him the mittens, he crossed his arms on them and leaned his forehead on the arms. He practically folded himself into a box and Hiroto tipped his head to the side curiously at the sight.

“I’m used to crazy people.”

Perhaps he should be offended, but Hiroto was mostly glad he got a reply at all. To be honest he’d been worried he’d gone too far when talking to Tora in front of Kenzo, it wouldn’t have been the first person to take off when faced with the way he handled his loss. Knowing they were at least on speaking terms still, or whatever their condition was supposed to be called, he dared to take a seat next to the curled up man.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“You’re talking to a dead man.”

It would be hard to argue such a statement, but luckily Hiroto wasn’t about to. He was talking to a dead man, no need denying obvious facts.

“Have you never tried speaking to the one you lost?”

Kenzo didn’t answer for a long time, he just sat there, head bent down and breathing deep and steadily. For a while Hiroto even thought he’d fallen asleep, but it was too cold for that to happen, right? Right. Eventually the black haired head rose and another cigarette was lit.

“Why would I?”

“You don’t believe in a life after this? That he or she-”

“He.”

Hiroto nodded, happier than he was letting on Kenzo was actually talking to him, sharing things whether he realised it or not. Whomever it was lying in the grave Kenzo came to be near it was a male, that was the first information Hiroto had ever learned about him.

“That he can hear you if you speak to him then?”

Kenzo didn’t answer at first, didn’t know how to answer that question. More than anything he wanted to talk to Aki again, hear his voice and his laughter, feel his arms and his lips and his body.

“Talking won’t bring him back.”

“It might help keep you sane.”

“I’m not the one talking to the dead.”

“I’m not the one drowning in guilt and grief.”

The small frame stiffened and the hand froze halfway to lips, apparently Kenzo hadn’t expected him to see through him like that. Or at the very least not speak up about it. He seemed beyond uncomfortable and while he felt slightly bad about it, Hiroto was also oddly proud for getting a proper reaction.

“Who said I was guilty?”

Defensive, cold, curt.

“Your eyes.”

Kenzo finally looked at him and what Hiroto saw wasn’t entirely easy to decipher; hurt, pain, confusion, fear, all mixed up in black and seasoned with anger. Kenzo didn’t like his questions, didn’t want to be cornered like this, but he still wasn’t getting up and leaving. Hiroto wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or surprised, perhaps equal amounts of both.

“What do you know anyway?”

“Nothing, but you could tell me.”