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Seven weeks. That was all it had been since Adam had thoroughly shattered multiple bones in Kaoru’s body. Right arm stuck in a sling until the sixth, removing any chance at practicing calligraphy, even if he weren’t begrudgingly not dealing with clients momentarily to Kojiro’s demand; left leg shattered due to his regular skating style keeping it in the front, right where the blow had landed, forcing him into a wheelchair for longer, until late moving to using a crutch for small amounts at a time.
He’d been reduced to nothing - that’s how he saw it.
Nothing more than a shell that had to waste so much time recovering. All for what? Nothing to change?
Yet, Kojiro immediately offered up his home; to cook for the man (even more than he already did on a semi-regular schedule); and, when it came to it, support him with more active rehab, despite the endless protests that Kaoru could just “tough it out”, that everything would go back to normal if he pretended it never happened.
Kaoru simply wasn’t used to being useless.
From shopping sprees and errand; to clients and S, Kaoru almost always had something to do. But now? He barely wanted to leave the house from the shame that neither men had truly addressed, just acknowledged, he couldn’t work even if he wanted to, and the most he could do was sit and watch, and occasionally cheer on, everyone else racing at S.
Everyone who hadn’t been as reckless.
Those who hadn’t been naive.
Yet, today, was a day spent as any other. They’d woken up together, Kojiro had helped Kaoru where needed in getting ready (which mainly just included brushing out his long hair and sorting something comfortable and easy to wear), Kojiro cooking breakfast for them both, a casual day spent in the house where for once they both had admin for their respective jobs to be done, Kojiro would go on to cook dinner (one of Kaoru’s few favorites), and they sat together, a calm night in with whatever trashy movie took their fancy.
Not that Kaoru couldn’t do all of that alone by this point (well, apart from the cooking), he could. He could do it all.
Physically, at least.
Yet, his mind held him back. The fantastic thing that had even gotten him this far, earning himself plenty, and giving him the choice of an easier life – the one that for better or worse had failed him in Adam’s beef from longstanding desperation that had once itched to break free – was holding him like chains wrapping his body. Hesitation controlled him, rather than motivation to get back to his old self.
“Geez-” Kojiro laughed out in a sigh, slightly vibrating against Kaoru with its heartiness due to the way the guy had a lazy arm draped over Kaoru’s shoulders, gently keeping them close, but careful not to cause any harm. “Is this really what people think flirting is in movie-land?”
Somehow, they’d ended up watching some teen rom-com – trashy movies that were meant to be just a bit of entertainment and take their minds off of the real world momentarily and Kojiro – who was apparently some self-proclaimed love expert – was thoroughly enjoying insulting the films taste and lack of flair as if he knew how to flirt any better than the teenagers on the screen in front of him.
Yet, at Kaoru’s uninterested “Mm-”, and the way he had his good knee pulled up hugged against his chest, the latter hanging to the floor, whilst his vision focused more on the floor than the film, Kojiro immediately grabbed for the remove.
“Hey... what’s up?” he quietly muttered, turning to see that Kaoru had barely clocked the fact the film had even been paused, nudging him slightly to pull him back into the room.
“Nothing-” Kaoru hesitated, gently closing his eyes momentarily, “nothing I’m fine-”
Yet his body spoke otherwise, and Kojiro could certainly say he knew Kaoru’s body language by now.
Though, for a moment, he just sighed, letting silence blanket them – just enough for processing. Kaoru wasn’t always easy to communicate with. Kojiro may know him better than anyone at this point, yet that didn’t make him magically able to fix everything; or even understand it.
“Right, well, that’s just not true – is it?”
Kaoru just scoffed back at him, snatching for the remote (and failing miserably due to Kojiro’s significantly bulkier, and their currently more than usual strength difference, mocking him) before hissing out, “It’s perfectly true-”
“Kaoru.” Kojiro sighed again, shaking his head whilst leaning to place the remote down on a table outside of Kaoru’s reach. “I know you think I’m an idiot, but I’m not blind.”
“Mm-”
“So? What’s up, hm?”
Kaoru still did not respond. Yet, he did comply briefly with a quick glance up to the TV and back down.
“Huh? Is there something-?” the other man had begun to question, until the paused screen shut him up plenty well.
Right there, in plain view, were those same teens he’d been mocking for their poor flirting skill.
Dancing.
Or, whatever jumping around and slight beat-matching was done in clubs.
But it was the notion that mattered.
“Oh-”
His eyes found Kaoru’s body again, that had now returned to its closed off state, eyes on the floor, the only movement obvious from the gentle rising and falling of his breaths.
Dancing.
Something Kaoru was isolated from.
Something he used to practice plenty of.
“Yeah- Oh.” Kaoru finally hissed, gritting his teeth. “I know you get the privilege of not knowing how it feels to have everything taken from you from the person you thought loved you - but yeah, fun fact, it fucking sucks. Like, what, knowing that no matter what I do, people like that, dancing and having fun, I can’t? That I’m trapped while others can skate, dance, work, or do whatever the hell they want but-”
Though, without a word, Kojiro had already gotten up, nodding himself in the process as to acknowledge Kaoru’s grievances; his next actions cutting Kaoru’s negativistic ramble short.
“What the hell are you doing?” the other man quickly sneered, not appreciating being interrupted for whatever ridiculous choices Kojiro was making.
The question all but answered itself though, as a quiet, but unmistakable tune flooded from the old, inherited, Italian gramophone that usually lay dormant and unused in the corner of Kojiro’s living room.
An old Italian classic.
A simple song.
And yet, it was also the same one Kojiro’s family had used as a lullaby plenty of times when the two were young boys.
“You need to chill out.” Kojiro sighed, walking back over to the sofa where Kaoru was sat, simply staring. “Clearly the movies aren’t enough to keep your mind from its ridiculous ideas getting to you. Ones that simply aren’t true.”
“They are though. Or what? You really think that I could-”
“Dance with me, Kaoru.”
An outstretched hand. One facing Kaoru with so much compassion it would have made him sick any other day.
He was left frozen for a moment, those thoughts still hounding him despite Kojiro’s familiar confidence - one that hadn’t led him astray yet.
So, he grabbed it, nonetheless still nodding to himself as if making a deal with death.
“There we go...” Kojiro whispered through a gentle smile, avoiding the humoured one that threatened to show instead after the thought of coaxing Kaoru like a stray cat crossed his mind.
But...
“Woah-!”
Kaoru’s hands flew to Kojiro’s shoulders, nails digging in like claws as his eyes slightly shook, jagged breathing attempting to restabilise. The moment he’d gotten himself up, his legs had threatened to cave below him, his body reacting as if he were about to fall off a cliff, not just in his partner’s living room.
“I- I can’t do this-”
“Yes, you can.” Kojiro didn’t fight him though, nor belittle him. Rather, his confidence was there to act as a scaffold for Kaoru’s crumbling one. “I’ve got you, see? It’s fine.” There was no rush, no fear, just a gentle hand to press against Kaoru’s lower back, slowly sliding up to the middle, allowing him to slowly regain his composure; Kaoru’s arms lazily wrapping over Kojiro’s shoulders in the process, head resting over his partner’s heart subconsciously.
Yet, the shake in Kaoru’s left leg was still obvious.
One that was no more than anxiety driven. Something Kojiro knew, but Kaoru refused to acknowledge.
He’d rather allow it to stay as an excuse to resist the active rehab that his body was no doubt ready for by now.
It hadn’t been that long since Kaoru had quit physio in a mix of anxiety and anger, unable to get behind the slow process of regaining his old abilities.
It had never been easy, not even from the moment he regained awareness after needing surgery on his leg.
Not physically, nor mentally.
Kaoru was grief-ridden. No matter how thick his skull was, the anger and pain that came from having everything he was currently living for taken from him in mere seconds.
If it weren’t for Kojiro pressing him constantly into trying to keep pushing, the damage could have been irreparable. That was the reality that Kojiro was just that little bit too aware off whenever he’d feel that resistance from Kaoru.
Kaoru’s head wanted time.
But healing did not work to anyone else’s schedule.
“We can take this slow, Kaoru.” Kojiro finally whispered, resting his head against Kaoru’s bowed one, gently moving his hand up and down the man’s back, whilst still ensuring to keep consistent pressure and not let go of him for even a moment. “Let me take the lead, I’m not going to drop you.”
Yet, no matter how gentle he was, Kojiro knew he was still pushing Kaoru. He had to, even if it hurt to ignore his own partner’s wishes.
This was in no way impossible though, and Kaoru should be able to manage a gentle, fully supported, slow dance between the two of them – after all, they’d been stood together for many minutes by now, and there seemed to be no physical resistance or reasons to suggest this was too far at all. But psychologically, there were still chains and rope dragging him back, telling him it wasn’t the right time yet.
Though, his mind would let him believe that time would never come.
“Princess, c’mon, please-”
“You better not drop me.” Kaoru finally jeered, submitting through gritted teeth.
That was all Kojiro needed though. So, with a gentle hum in agreement, he took to guiding them into simple steps that both were familiar with after plenty of spontaneous late-night dancing. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
It was nothing other than gentle. The focus a calligrapher used to make the thinnest of lines. The delicacy of a chef perfecting his dishes presentation.
Yet, there was no need for flair - not a twirl nor fancy hand holding in sight. Kojiro’s hands stayed strategic against Kaoru’s upper and lower back. Kaoru resisting any distance with his arms loosely wrapped over Kojiro’s shoulders, ready to catch himself at any moment.
One foot in front of the other, left and right, forward and back – all accompanied by the soft sounds of a childhood lullaby.
The pacing was just fine and slowly the distance the steps took increased from scared treading to graceful swaying.
Kaoru would slowly loosen up, eyes finding their way to Kojiro’s thoughtful ones – questioning to himself how someone could be so considerate.
Kojiro able to loosen but not remove his grip on Kaoru, as if removing training wheels from a bike, only holding it behind by hand, and hoping the rider won’t notice and panic when their final support gets removed.
One hand each, left and right respectively, eventually finding themselves off of one another’s body and into each other's warm grasp, held comfortably between them. Moving from fear of being dropped, into much more contemporary holds on one another.
Everything felt perfect.
Well, almost.
“Shit-!”
Kaoru’s left foot had caught on a curl at the edge of the rug as they were moving back into the centre of the room.
He’d fallen right into Kojiro, almost failing at catching himself if his partner hadn’t been there, stronger and more able to react.
“Hey, hey- I've got you-” Kojiro tried to comfort him, pulling him back into a gentle hug.
But the damage was done.
Kaoru was shaking again. On the edge of hyperventilating.
One stumble had sent his mind flying.
“I can’t-”
“You can. You just were-”
“No- no- I'm not ready-”
“Kaoru.” Kojiro didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to stop and figure out what happened. It had been right in front of him, and easier to understand that 99% of Kaoru’s usual freak outs. “You’re more than ready. You managed so much just now. It’s to be expected you might stumble or lose your stability every so often- but that’s why you’re doing this. It’s why I had a tighter hold of you than usual, princess. I knew you may trip, because you’re doing rehab, not our normal spontaneous, romantic shit. But doing it like this also means it can feel more fun for you than whatever a physio may have you doing-”
“No-” Kaoru spat quietly before pressing further, “No, fuck this, Kojiro-! Fuck this stupid motherfucking rehab-! Fuck it all-”
Oh.
That’s where he was at, huh?
Kaoru had shoved himself back from Kojiro after a quick glance to realise the sofa was back to being in enough proximity that he could launch himself onto it, collapsing into it immediately.
Kojiro just had to watch. He just stood there, letting his own composure regain before he said or did something he’d regret. He’d be lying to say it wasn’t a little scary whenever something like this happened.
It always happened so fast.
He just had to let himself watch first, to relax himself while Kaoru buried his face into the back of the sofa, body twisted so he could turn away and sob to himself.
Kaoru normally had this under more control nowadays, the emotional meltdowns after something too big to handle happened. He’d changed a lot, in fact, since the years in his childhood where it was so bad he’d be called a “crybaby” for starting to sob over anything that didn’t quite sit right.
Yet now, after the physical and emotional stress, he’d been placed under, his defences were too low to fight this off.
So, without another word, Kojiro just nodded to himself and quietly walked over to turn the music off.
Kaoru had finally hit his breaking point, and the reminder wasn’t needed.
It hopefully would also take the pressure off too.
A way of saying “I accept this decision. I won’t keep pushing.”, without having to say it quite yet.
Just something to get Kaoru’s guard down first so he wouldn’t make snap judgements when Kojiro approached him.
“Hey...” Kojiro finally walked back over after letting the silence settle, taking it slow as to not make Kaoru jump. His awareness was probably hindered in this state, Kojiro didn’t want to make anything worse.
Of course, though, Kaoru stayed silent, not responding to Kojiro or even acknowledging him.
Yet, something about the way Kaoru curled up and trembled in what was likely more than just sadness, loose pyjama bottoms and hoodies covering him that had replaced the traditional look weeks ago, loose hair that hid him like a curtain from the world, Kojiro couldn’t just stand there.
So, he did the only thing he knew to do in such situations. His hand grabbed right for a hairbrush that had been discarded as he sat himself next to Kaoru, the guy leaning slightly towards him due to the immediate dip of the sofa below them. “It’s just me, relax.” Kojiro would whisper as one of his hands found its way to Kaoru’s hair, starting to separate it into manageable chunks – watching carefully as the guy’s shoulders tightened at the sudden contact.
Gentle strokes one by one though begun finding themselves in Kaoru’s hair. Kojiro ensuring to brush it starting at the ends before moving up – something Kaoru had thrown many brushes in his face for getting wrong in the past that it was almost impossible to forget now.
It avoided massive tangles.
Avoided hurting him.
Kaoru’s hair tangled extremely easily, in fact. Something most people didn’t think possible due to how sleek it looked.
But it did.
Late night brushing became a habit, especially after S nights that he’d race, his hair in knots by the end of it, needing meticulous and careful brushing to not pull it out.
Kojiro could still remember when Kaoru would sob as his father yanked a brush through his hair or tie it so tightly it gave him headaches back when he was still but a young child.
His mother had wanted him to have beautiful long hair, but was too busy to help him of a morning to manage it.
It was left to his father, a karate master, someone who was never trained in such delicacy as hair care.
Kojiro was therefore treated with ill-trust when the subject came up the first time – after Kaoru sprained his wrist as was unable to use his non-dominant hand to brush it to his liking.
Hours of complaining and fear that Kojiro too was just a guy that had no idea what he was doing.
The tradition continued, mainly just because of the princess treatment Kaoru enjoyed.
Yet now, it had come back to Kojiro more than ever.
After Kaoru had gotten out of hospital, his head too had been injured, and so Kojiro learned to be more delicate than ever before, not wishing to cause any further pain than his partner, the person he loved more than anything, was being forced to endure.
It hadn’t needed brushing now, Kaoru had done that himself in the morning, and once more in the afternoon simply for being bored.
But, the touch, undemanding and grounding, was what Kojiro was aiming for.
“I’m sorry for pushing you so hard.” He quietly hummed, uncertain if he was still just talking to himself or not.
Kaoru still didn’t respond though.
He adjusted himself, entire body relaxing slowly as Kojiro worked with care.
But he didn’t speak.
Minutes passed.
Kojiro still worked on the guy’s hair, not too fast, but not too slow as if he was treating it like a joke.
And as he moved up into the mid-section, he sighed, speaking quietly and avoiding any sense of pushing or force, “I’m here whenever you want to talk about it.”
That wasn’t an invitation either.
They needed to talk about it.
But it was on Kaoru’s time now. The shots were his to call.
“I don’t want to talk about it-” his voice came out muffled, but the message was clear.
“Kaoru- c’mon, we need to at least talk about that last comment-”
Fuck it all?
Yeah, as if.
Kojiro wasn’t letting that happen.
Yet-
“There’s no point- I'm not doing that crap anymore-”
Kojiro wasn’t the only passionate one here.
“Kaoru-”
...
Kojiro took a breath, his hands momentarily leaving Kaoru’s hair as he sat back for a moment and just watched. Pressing him over and over again didn’t do anything for this situation, it wasn’t working and was simply making it worse.. The desperation was showing. Something that shouldn’t show now.
Kojiro was desperate.
But selfishly hoping for Kaoru’s wellbeing rather than persuading him, and standing next to him, wasn’t the right way about it.
So, instead, with another deep breath, moving into plaiting the soft hair to keep them both as grounded as possible – as connected as possible – he begun again, shifting his tone. For better or worse would be the thing to find out.
“I know it sucks. It’s ass that you even have to do this in the first place. But- you shouldn’t let it take control of you like this- let him take control of you... It’s your life, Kaoru.” That was the truth here. Kojiro had been thinking too hard on the physical to have considered fighting the why – the fact Kaoru hadn’t fully been living for himself. He’d spent so much time trying to get that beef, to see Adam face-to-face, to get some sort of proof or semblance. He’d forgotten to live for himself. Of course he was quick to give up after all that happened. Like only the few weeks before they’d met Adam. Before Kaoru had found his why. The addiction he’d never fully sobered from.
Not until it had been pried from his clingy hands, forcing him to drop it when it was hot, freezing him in the process.
“Kaoru, seriously, you’re calligraphy, skating, displays, events, and all that crap- I don’t want to see you just let it get torn from you like this. Not after you’ve worked your petty ass off so goddamn hard to achieve so much - even when nobody believed in you, you shoved it right back at them. So why, huh? Why can’t you prove this wrong? Prove yourself wrong for once? Prove that all these doubts in your recovery are plain stupid? Because you can do all of that. Hell, out of anyone... I have to say you are the most capable and resilient asshole out there to do it. Because never have I seen you stay dead after being shoved into hell. It’s like you want to haunt everyone forever-” he couldn’t help but laugh at the end, passion and teasing taking over for a moment.
It truly was backwards that he referred to someone so soft in appearance as hell spawn. But it took a lot of knowing Kaoru to realise he was in fact that resilient that it seemed almost immortal.
But Kaoru wasn’t the type to cave to such things easily. To hear positivity and encouragement and just take it.
No, rather he sneered, and hissed, and wallowed in his own self-pity a little while longer.
“I don’t know how you can even say that crap- Not when you’re looking at me like this. I’m not resilient, far from it. I’m sat here, rotting in your house like some parasite waiting for the earth to swallow me whole. That's not petty, not capable-”
Parasite?
What the hell had everyone that steered Kaoru wrong lead him to believe to make him say that?
Kaoru was no parasite.
As much as his needy behaviours, like demanding Kojiro to learn to plait when rediscovering his style as a young adult, was a little forward. It certainly wasn’t parasitic.
The practiced way Kojiro’s hands were roping his hair together felt like enough proof of that.
Something Kojiro had wanted to do, entirely impulsively, just for him, not felt like he had to just to keep him happy.
“Because-” Kojiro started, lofty confidence taking over with a know-it-all fashion that left no room for buts or howevers, “In years, or even months, to come, you’re going to be laughing at yourself, mocking yourself even, and think how stupid this end-of-everything minset truly is. Just gotta prove it first.”
Gentle hadn’t worked as well as Kojiro liked, so a little light-hearted, but rather blunt insults ought to hit a little closer to home.
Kaoru was stupid.
He was no doubt a genius, sure.
But sometimes making him see his own stupid side was more important than the self-inflated ego his fears used to make him believe them.
“Whatever you say-”
And that, was not a “no” anymore.
“Can we try again?” Kojiro hummed, turning Kaoru’s face, gazing into the soft, slightly reddened eyes that looked back at him like a scared deer, and allowing the fully formed braid to finally fall over his shoulder in the process – a clear view of Kaoru after hours of hiding behind a curtain of messy long hair. “I promise to have hold of you the entire time, Kaoru. I caught you before, didn’t I? No matter how many times you fall, I’ll be there. You can trust me, Kaoru. I’ll help you trust yourself later.”
“Not tonight. Please-”
Well, at least it wasn’t “never again” anymore.
“Fine by me.” Kojiro chuckled gazing back towards the tv, which was still paused on the clubbing scene that had started this whole thing.
“You wanna watch a different, hopefully less relatable, movie instead?”