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𝟑𝟑 || 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ||

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    Bam!

    Bam!

    Bam!

    Takemichi stays still, frozen in place, as he watches an old man slam a young lady's head against the wall.

    He tries to cry out to the old man in hopes of making him stop, but nothing leaves Takemichi's lips. His throat tightens and constricts at the sight of blood dribbling down the lady's forehead; the blood trails down her chin till it drops onto the floor, creating a small red puddle on the wooden tiles.

    Takemichi attempts to move forward, but his limbs won't cooperate. They stay locked in place as if invisible chains are keeping him pinned in one spot. The curly haired boy struggles and struggles, trying and failing to get his body moving but he fails.

    Again.

    Again.

    And again.

    Nothing happens.

    He can't move no matter how hard he tries.

    The man continues to abuse the lady from across the room, laughing and swearing up a storm. Takemichi can vaguely feel tears trailing down his cheeks, but he doesn't pay them any mind.

    All Takemichi can do is watch from afar as the man keeps slamming her head against the wall, creating a loud sound that reverberates around the small room.

    Bam!

    Bam!

    Bam!

    Takemichi's eyes fly open, and finally, finally, his body can move.

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Takemichi's nights have often been filled with nightmares of that night—the night he lost his mother to her own hatred.

    Waking up in a pool of his own sweat has become a normal occurrence as of lately. Every night, for almost a whole week, the same damn dream occurs in his head, making him wake up in a frenzy of sweat, shallow gasps, and trembling bones.

    Haru stopped sleeping with him after the third nightmare in a row. Takemichi couldn't even blame the boy for leaving him to sleep on the couch; Haru tried helping Takemichi during the night, attempting to shake him awake and hold him till he fell back asleep, but then dark eyebags started to appear under his green eyes from staying up so late. It was Takemichi's idea for the boy to sleep on the couch so his nightmares wouldn't bother him anymore. Haru tried to be stubborn with Takemichi, insisting that he could keep helping Takemichi in the middle of the night, but Takemichi quickly pointed out how dark his eyebags have gotten.

    "If they get any darker then Wakasa will know something is wrong!"

    "He said he was gonna take care of us, Takemichi—he should know that something's wrong!"

    "I-I'll let him about the nightmares, just give me some time, ok?"

    "...fine. But if you start screaming or something in the middle of the night then I'm rating you out."

    "Deal."

    And that brings Takemichi to his next problem: Wakasa Imaushi.

    Even after a week of living together, Takemichi still doesn't know how to act around the white haired man. Wakasa doesn't seem to have a problem navigating around Takemichi and Haru; in fact, he does it with so much ease it makes Takemichi jealous.

    Wakasa helps himself to the kitchen, making breakfast for Haru and Takemichi every morning before school. His cooking is so much different than his mother's—it's tastier, more edible and full of flavors that explode on Takemichi's tongue. And, every day, he provides Takemichi and Haru with a boxed lunch full of nutritious food that has the two boys salivating with desire. And, every night, Wakasa puts on a movie for Takemichi, Haru, and whoever else might be at the apartment at the time, in order to distract them while he makes dinner. All of his dishes are delicious—none of them are over cooked, undercooked, too spicy, or too soft. They're just right.

    Wakasa also started walking the kids to school, which is something Takemichi's mother never did. The school Takemichi and his friends attend isn't too far away from the apartments, so they normally just walk together in a pack without a guide, but—ever since Wakasa became his guardian—he's been rounding the kids up and bringing them to school, making sure they got there safely.

    Takemichi doesn't really mind this new development. Wakasa is fun to have around and his friends like asking him random questions. Keisuke and Mikey seem to like this new development the most. The two boys created a game that consisted of asking Wakasa questions until he got mad. So far, the boys were unsuccessful in their attempts at riling the ex-delinquent up. Wakasa just responds to every question with a laidback expression, not bothered in the slightest.

    But, one thing that throws Takemichi off, are the gifts Wakasa would randomly bring back to the apartment for Takemichi and Haru.

    The first time it happened, Takemichi and Haru had been putting together an old puzzle that Takemichi had finished countless times, when Wakasa barged into his room without knocking. He had plastic bags held tightly in his arms and placed them down on Takemichi's bed without a single word. Before he left the two dumbfounded boys alone, he looked over his shoulder and smirked.

    "Thought you guys might want to assemble some more puzzles. Look in the bag—you'll find plenty to choose from."

    Puzzles.

    The plastic bags were full of puzzles.

    Takemichi had wept with joy upon seeing his gifts, and Haru awkwardly patted him on the back, thanking Wakasa on behalf of both of them. And, in typical Wakasa fashion, he brushed their words of thanks off like a speck of dirt.

    "It was no problem. Just let me know if you guys get tired of them, k?"

    And the gifts didn't stop there.

    He got Haru some comfortable pillows after the boy started sleeping on the couch.

    "I don't wanna hear you complaining about your neck in the morning."

    He got Takemichi some oversized band t-shirts that ranged from the Beatles to queen.

    "There was a sale today at the supermarket."

    He even got them a damn radio for the kitchen.

    Takemichi and Haru had gawked at the machinery like it was a foreign object while Wakasa made dinner, humming along to the music being played on the station.

    "What's that thing?" Takemichi had asked upon laying his eyes on the object.

    Haru elbowed him in the side, his green eyes narrowing at the injured boy.

    "We're not supposed to talk to Wakasa while he's cooking!" Haru reprimanded, but Takemichi could see the way his eyes lingered on the small blue radio in the kitchen as well.

    Wakasa sent Haru and Takemichi while he boiled the vegetables (gross...) in the pot. "It's a radio."

    "A radio? But isn't that expensive?"

    Wakasa had rolled his eyes at Takemichi's question. "You don't need to worry bout that shit, yeah? Now go back to watching that Totoro movie."

    And, even after all the wonderful meals, protection, and gifts, Takemichi still doesn't know how to act around him.

    Is Wakasa someone he can turn to for help if he gets hurt? Or should he hide the bruises and deal with them himself?

    If Takemichi needs money for something important, can he ask Wakasa for a couple of dollars? Or does he try to find another way to get money?

    He doesn't know.

    And...he hates to admit it, but it scares him.

    Will Wakasa stay this way forever or will he change as time goes on?

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    "Why do you keep limping?"

    Takemichi looks up from the concrete slab he was walking on and meets Mikey's dark curious eyes.

    Takemichi, Mikey, Keisuke, and Haru were on their way to the arcade, pockets stuffed with money Keisuke borrowed from some classmates (Michi's pretty sure Keisuke stole it...) when Mikey decided to call the poor boy out.

    The three boys stop in their tracks upon hearing the words leave Mikey's lips, making Takemichi nauseous. Keisuke's the first boy to move; he makes long strides towards Takemichi and inspects Takemichi with a raised brow. Haru follows after Keisuke, a knowing look in his eye as he looks Takemichi up and down. Mikey stands still next to Takemichi, waiting for an answer.

    The limping boy gulps nervously, his heart going a hundred miles a second as he tries to conjure up a reasonable response. It's not like he can go ahead and tell them the real reason behind his injury! How exactly is he supposed to explain to the boys that he got absolutely humiliated by a classmate who kicked him off the monkey bars?!

    That's the thing—he can't.

    "I just tripped and fell! It's really not a big deal—"

    "That's what you said last time!!!" Keisuke scowls, his brown eyes narrowing at Takemichi, making the small boy feel even more guilty. "Just tell us who we need to fuck up!!!" The boys surrounding Takemichi nod their heads in unison, all agreeing with Keisuke's words. Takemichi instantly feels his palms growing clammy at the mere idea of a small kid getting jumped by three ruthless kids who'll probably put him in the infirmary.

    Or worse.

    "No one needs to be f-fucked up, Kei-Chan!!!" Takemichi protests as he reaches over to grab the feral boy by the shoulders. "I'm ok! Just a little hurt, but I'll be good in no time!!!" Keisuke still looks skeptical, but—before he can continue his side of the argument—Mikey pipes up.

    "You shouldn't lie to us, Takemitchy. It's not very nice, y'know?" Mikey sings, an ominous tone mixing in with his voice—dark eyes twirling dangerously as he glares at Takemichi with a fake smile. "Friends always tell each other the truth. Are we not friends, takemitchy?"

    And, just like that, Takemichi plays right into Mikey's hands. Takemichi rats himself out, mentions how a boy at recess might've kicked him off the monkey bars, making him roll his ankle when his foot touched the ground. Hell, Takemichi even confesses to the truth behind the injuries he got mere days ago, scared beyond recognition of not being friends with Mikey anymore. Just the thought alone makes Takemichi tear up like—like a baby.

    "EH?! How long were you planning on hiding this from us?!" Keisuke shouts, enraged at the lies Takemichi's been giving them. The curly haired boy, now wallowing in guilt, tries his best to avoid making eye contact with Keisuke—his closest friend. He's unsuccessful, of course; Once Keisuke notices that Takemichi is avoiding eye contact, he grabs his face with both hands and forcefully turns his head to look at Keisuke.

    "I—I was planning on telling you guys eventually, I swear! I just didn't want to cause you guys any trouble, that's all!" Takemichi exclaims, unknowingly adding fire to the rage that swirls within Keisuke's brown irises.

    "I don't care, Michi—I'd rather you cause trouble for us than lie like a loser, got it?!"

    Without much of a choice, Takemichi nods his head rapidly, agreeing to Keisuke's terms. The angry boy finally lets go of Takemichi's face and pushes the boy away, nearly making him fall onto the ground.

    "Oi, Haru!"

    "What?"

    "Carry Michi home, yeah? I don't want Takemichi to spoil our fun at the arcade."

    "...fine."

    "Wait what?!"

    Against Takemichi's will, Haruchiyo manhandles him onto his back. With a fearful shout, Haru begins to run in the direction of their apartment. Mikey and Keisuke wave them goodbye, silly smiles pulling on their lips as they make fun of Takemichi's terrible predicament.

    "BYE TAKEMITCHY!!! GET BETTER SOON!"

    "YEAH, YOU BIG IDIOT! THAT LIMP BETTER BE GONE THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU!!!"

    Takemichi shoves his face against the nape of Haru's neck, his face turning red in embarrassment.

    "You guys are terrible..."

    Haruchiyo scoffs at Takemichi's words and turns his head to give him a side eye.

    "We're just looking out for you. Just let it happen, ok?"

    Takemichi doesn't respond. Instead, he places his chin on top of Haruchiyo's head, wishing that Wakasa won't be at the apartment to see Takemichi's injury.

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The odds are never in Takemichi's favor. Never. Nada. Period.

    Why? Because Wakasa is the one who lets Haru and Takemichi back into the apartment.

    Takemichi doesn't even bother looking Wakasa in the eye, more than a little ashamed at being  caught getting carried around like a rag doll.

    And what does Haru do?

    He drops Takemichi down onto the couch with little to no grace at all.

    "He's your problem now, Wakasa. Ima head to the arcade with Mikey and Keisuke," Haru says after tossing Takemichi onto the couch cushions, his tone nonchalant and bored as if he were talking about the weather.

    Wakasa looks no different than Haru—his face relaxed and tired as he switches his gaze from Haru to Takemichi. "Ok, just be back before dark," Wakasa instructs half heartedly while walking away from the two boys, his mind elsewhere.

    With one last look at Takemichi, Haru leaves the injured boy by himself on the couch, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound reverberates around the small apartment, sending an uneasy feeling up Takemichi's spine.

    Now it's just Takemichi and Wakasa.

    Alone.

    Together.

    Takemichi heaves out a loud sigh and stuffs his face into one of the couch cushions, wallowing in his own agony. His ankle begins to throb with pain, but he ignores it in favor of stressing out about what to do next. Should he ask Wakasa for help? Or...or maybe Wakasa is upset with him? But he didn't seem very upset—actually, scratch that, Wakasa's expression hardly changes.

    As Takemichi continues to suffer in silence, the sweet sound of footsteps reaches Takemichi's ears. Looking up from the couch cushions, Takemichi makes eye contact with Wakasa who's holding a first aid kit in his hands. Takemichi doesn't say a word as Wakasa plops down next to him on the couch—the injured boy watches him closely as he snaps the lid open, rummaging around for bandages and the stuff needed to help heal a rolled ankle.

    "...so what happened?" Wakasa asks, breaking the tense silence that hangs over them like a dark cloud, his hand eventually pulling out a roll of white bandages.

    Takemichi turns his face away from Wakasa, his cheeks warming up as he thinks back to the events that transpired all those hours ago.

    "N-Nothing serious...I just rolled my ankle."

    "Hm...ok...take your shoe off."

    Takemichi quickly does as he's instructed, carefully taking his shoe and sock off his foot for the white haired man to see. The skin around Takemichi's ankle is a mix of purple and green, a terrible bruise blossoming in its wake. Takemichi tries not to flinch as Wakasa gently holds his foot in his hands, his lilac colored eyes inspecting the injury with narrow eyes.

    "...Looks like a rolled ankle. It'll heal in no time as long as you stay off of it," Wakasa explains as he reaches for the roll of bandages.

    "...Will I need to use a wheelchair?" Takemichi finds himself asking. He's unable to hide the excitement of riding around the neighborhood in a moving chair, already imagining the cool tricks he could do on it—

    "Nope—you won't need a wheelchair for something as simple as this."

    Takemichi slumps his shoulders in defeat, a pout slowly forming on his lips at having his bubble popped.

    "Then how will I get to school tomorrow?"

    "Like you normally do: by walking."

    "But what if it still hurts?"

    "Then go to the nurse and ask for an ice pack."

    "...how do you have an answer for everything?"

    "Because I was blessed by the gods that look over us," he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he continues to wrap Takemichi's foot up in the roll of bandages. Takemichi rolls his eyes playfully at Wakasa's silly explanation.

    "You're a terrible liar, Wakasa!"

    Wakasa looks up from Takemichi's wrapped foot, his lilac eyes boring into Takemichi's blue ones.

    "Guess that makes two of us."

    Everything seems to stop for Takemichi. Wakasa stays still, as if frozen, staring intently into Takemichi Blue eyes. The older man's hands remain caressing the boy's foot, his fingers gentle and careful. Takemichi can't bring himself to move a muscle, neither scared nor confident enough to say a word.

    Does...Does Wakasa know? Is the man somehow looking into Takemichi's mind? Prying the truth away from his brain?

    And, finally, when Takemichi processes the words that spilled from Wakasa's mouth, the boy wills his lips to move.

    "What...what do you mean?" He asks, his throat suddenly parched and itchy.

    Wakasa completely disregards the question with a question of his own.

    "How did you roll your ankle?"

    Takemichi can vividly feel drops of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. The urge to wipe it away with the back of hand gets stronger by the second, but Takemichi can't bring himself to move under Wakasa's hypnotic gaze.

    "I, um, tripped during recess?"

    Wakasa narrows his eyes at Takemichi, seeing through the boy's obvious lie. The white haired man finishes wrapping the boy's foot and leans back against the couch cushions, his posture relaxed and laid back, but Takemichi can see the way his fingers are twitching at his sides.

    "Wanna try telling me the truth this time?" He asks, tilting his head at the frightened boy.

    Takemichi pulls his knees up to his chest and scoots away from Wakasa, creating as much distance between them as possible.

    "I...well, it was an accident..."

    "Takemichi."

    The strict voice that rings through Takemichi's ears instantly shatters his resolve.

    With his head hanging with shame, Takemichi explains everything to Wakasa. "Some kid kicked me off the monkey bars during recess today and I landed weird..." he mumbles against the exposed skin of his knees.

    It's silent for a few seconds following Takemichi's confession. The boy buried his nose into the space between his knees, envying the animals who can hide away in their protective shells and never see the light of day again. Why couldn't humans be born with shells? Like turtles?

    "...Did you kick him back?"

    Takemichi looks up from his knees, caught off guard by Wakasa's question. The boy's not sure what he