Chapter 13: Snow Bunnies
Trigger warning: Panic attack.
It was the usual Sunday.
Kiyoshi blinked twice, surprised his sight wasn't foggy despite recent events. It must be because he reduced his sweets intake and now exercised regularly, he thought with a clear mind. The new routine and habits were doing wonders. Kiyoshi felt he had more energy.
So this was not the usual weekend. Nevertheless, Kiyoshi hopped out of bed, took his cell phone from the desk, and checked his inbox.
"Nothing from Keima," he muttered, then started his day with a light jog before breakfast. He usually texted the day before to say he had time to work out together--more like train Kiyoshi. Maybe he had soccer practice.
After doing his appointed chores, he tied his sneakers and left the house. Mother had left a few hours ago after she was called from work, leaving Kiyoshi to finish cleaning the windows and silently agreeing he was in charge of dinner. The Coach somehow convinced her to accept the transfer, and Kiyoshi showed results as perfect scores in all his tests so far.
Everything was going well, home-wise. If only school was the same. In a quick trip to the student council room, the other day from his new spying spot as the team resumed practice, his movements froze when he saw the little girl with violet eyes gazed at him.
It was. . . awkward, especially because he acquired Fire Tornado's manual despite assuring he didn't have it.
Before she and Gouenji-kun left, Kensou notified them Kiyoshi would pass by soon during practice to get info about the soccer club's latest expenses.
"Sorry for the sudden news," he casually told the first-years who shook their heads and excused him. He also introduced Kiyoshi to the two, exchanging bows and names. Shuuya was a really cute name, he had to admit. However, his smile faded when he met the girl's stare as if saying he should fall off a cliff and die. Kiyoshi wondered if Gouenji-kun noticed her intense gaze.
After they left, Kensou told him if Back Tornado's manual was that important, then he had no intention of letting anyone take it.
Kiyoshi felt a drop of sweat trace down the middle of his back. If he found out about her, he was as good as dead.
"W-why won't you give it to me?" Kiyoshi grumbled in a small voice.
Kensou merely shrugged. "It would be too easy." He then narrowed his eyes. "And you have the terrible habit of sitting back and hoping everything falls in your hands. I was the one who gave you the tip about the empty third-year classrooms in the building in front of the pitch."
Kiyoshi instinctively pouted. "Why do you even care?"
Kensou's glare deepened to a murderous stare. "Because I hate people like you."
He stood silent, looking away from Kensou's eyes that finally showed real emotion.
Hatred. That's why he was torturing him. Kiyoshi was relieved and scared. Relieved because it was common, scared because of what he was capable of doing.
Unfortunately, Komoto-san, the student council president and the one the first years were looking for to request the manual, was so busy with the latest preparations for Alumni Day he hadn't been in the office at the same time as Kiyoshi for days. And getting his number was harder than he thought. Not that he would call, but text.
Kiyoshi took a short break from his jog, chugging down his water bottle as he leaned beside his favorite convenience store. Lowering his head as two girls passed by him, he heard them whisper about his looks, nudging at each other playfully.
He scurried into the store, lowering his gaze even further to hide his heating cheeks. His stomach was fluttery, like being tickled. He stared at his reflection and looked away. Okay, he was good-looking. Not only he took care of his face, but with Keima's petting, he wanted to soften his blonde hair as well.
He glanced at his reflection once again, small, proud smile widening charmingly.
A familiar voice called his name. Kiyoshi turned around in a haste and greeted the old owner behind the register beside his grandson.
. . . He should buy something. Kiyoshi looked around frantically as the old man asked what he wanted, choosing a honey bun on a nearby shelf he decided to share with Keima.
"Thank you for your patronage." The clerk bowed as Kiyoshi left.
After strapping the small bag on his pants, he resumed trotting. He passed a few streets, the characteristic small, thick bushes that hallmarked his secret place soon came into view.
"I should have bought something for them instead," he said as he reduced speed and sighed. "Now I'm broke--Huh?" Kiyoshi blinked at the increasing sound of music while he neared the entrance.
He knelt behind the flower pots, peeking at the intruder.
Keima?! Kiyoshi narrowed his gaze. He seemed to be saying something. . . singing, it seemed. He was also clutching something in his hands, where the song seemed to be coming from. Most probably his phone.
"That. . . doesn't sound like Japanese," Kiyoshi muttered quietly with a deep frown. After a couple of minutes, he managed to catch two phrases in English.
Whenever I begin to feel the burning tears,
Overflowing from my eyes.
As if the song was Keima's guide, sharp sobs escaped from his thin lips. Kiyoshi fell to his butt, the rest of the song flowing into his ears with ease. The melancholic notes of the guitar mourned a loss, the desperate lyrics trying to scream out the pain.
I wonder what the sparkles in your eyes,
Are hiding from my mind.
Hiding from my open heart,
And from your open heart.
Kiyoshi brought the edge of his palm to his wet eyes, a strange ache in his heart. Pain he didn't know its origin. He pushed himself off the ground and ran to Keima, throwing himself to his friend in pain.
"Ki-Kiyoshi?! Wha. . . what are you. . ." Keima's voice broke down before Kiyoshi felt droplets wet his shoulder.
He sniffed, the ache in his chest tightening sharply. The song still echoed between them, speaking about their suffering.
He tightened his embrace and spoke, "You are going to get through this, Kei."
There was a sharp inhale, the hands touching Kiyoshi's waist trembling. He burrowed his nose on the crook of Keima's neck. "If you were in pain, why didn't you call me?"
Keima replied a few seconds later, sarcasm dripping like water, "Kiyoshi, why do you think I'm here, in a place where I know no comes?"
Kiyoshi glanced down bashfully, then he noticed his femur was between Keima's legs. "So-sorry!" Embarrassment heated his brain, and he pulled away awkwardly. A hand flew to his head, scratching it thoughtfully. "U-um. . . Did you. . . wa-n-t to be. . . a-lone?"
Keima nodded with distant eyes, letting the answer settle into Kiyoshi's mind.
"Uh-uh, sorry! I-I-I am a bother, right?!" A hand squeezed his heart as Kiyoshi spoke, leaving charred marks at the self-depreciating words. "Bu-but--!" Kiyoshi stopped, staring at Keima's unchanging expression.
If you wanted to be alone, why did you come to a place where you knew I could find you?
Kiyoshi bit his lip, deciding to shut up.
A few moments later, Keima spoke softly as if it was too much of a trouble, "You came to see them, right?"
Kiyoshi looked up between the upper frame of his glasses and his bangs. "U-uhn."
"Don't let me stop you."
He nodded, standing up meekly to look for the calico cat and the black cat with white mittens. Looking back at Keima once, he focused on his task.
"Ah, there you are," Kiyoshi whispered as the black kitty brushed its head against his bent knee. He let his legs lay on the short grass for good, scratching behind the kitty's ear.
It purred, rolling on its body and showing off its white, fluffy belly.
Kiyoshi squealed, scratching the kitty's sign of trust. "You are so cute~."
After he was satisfied, he leaned back to check on Keima. No movement. The song had changed to a popular J-rock band's.
There was a soft but refined meow, pulling Kiyoshi back towards the calico cat that appeared from the dense trees behind the park.
Kiyoshi greeted her politely, letting her sniff his finger before brushing it against her cheek.
"You won't help him, will you?" he asked sadly. After an accident in which Hachi-chan scared the aloof calico, the cats resented the dog and his owner. "I can't force you but. . . I wish." He then added quietly, "I will do my best instead."
After a goodbye pet, Kiyoshi went back to the bench.
It was empty.
His eyes moved frantically, relaxing ever so slightly at Keima's leaving figure. Kiyoshi caught up after calling his name, Keima stopping in his tracks. He inhaled. He could do this. He could do this.
"Ke-Kei! Uh-um you-you know? I. . . I don't think you should be alone today. I know you want to but. . . " Selfish, Kiyoshi was so selfish. He brought a hand to his chest and inhaled. "Do you want to watch a movie in my house?"
Keima loved movies. It was the activity they did together the most when soccer and video games were out of the window.
His friend turned, staring at the ground, hands in his pockets. Eventually, he rubbed his neck. "Uh. . . I haven't checked what's out."
"It doesn't matter!" Kiyoshi squeaked, flailing his arms with mock enthusiasm. "We can watch something again. I'll make popcorn!"
Inside, he was shaking. A small chip on his white heart cracked and fell, revealing a bright red color. But Keima was worth it. He was his best friend. They made a promise.
Keima placed a hand on his head and stroke his hair. "Only because are desperate." He smiled casually. "Bribing me with food."
Kiyoshi looked down, cheeks flushed at his own actions. He used to do that back then. Back when he wanted to be with Keima. Food is one of animals' basic desires.
And pleasures.
⚽️⚽️
On the way to Kiyoshi's house, they talked. Keima tried to push the topic away from him to Kiyoshi's school life, but Kiyoshi insisted, and he wasn't pleased.
Squeezing his shoulders together, Keima grumbled like a kid who was wronged. "I was taken off practice. So I left early."
"Wha-what?! Why?!" Kiyoshi protested.
His friend frowned, jaw tightening. "Because I can't focus! Class, practice--I can't do anything!" He huffed, stopping for second and grumbled. "Sorry for raising my voice."
Kiyoshi shook his head immediately and smiled. "No, you are frustrated, right? It's fine."
"I'm a burden. To the team, to you." His voice lowered. "I can't be their knight."
Kiyoshi blinked. He was peeking into a new side of Keima. It was foreign, but he tagged along with hesitation.
Keima had a dream. Become the pillar that will bring his team to the nationals. As their ace striker; as the one whom they put their hopes on.
"Last year, we lost to Mikage in our second match," he mourned. "Four to zero."
Kiyoshi inhaled sharply. Teikoku was three times stronger than Mikage. In the span of a year, Tengawara had to be at least six times stronger to match Teikoku, let alone win. He gulped.
It was impossible. Why did this idiot take the hardest tasks? It was the first time he heard Keima had a clear goal--
Kiyoshi took Keima's hand in his own, holding it firm. "I will support you. To the end."
Keima's dim expression broke into a calm smile. "Thank you." Then, he chuckled playfully. "You have become bolder, Yoshii."
"What do you mean?" He asked, blushing as Keima squeezed his hand lightly. "Ah-" Kiyoshi tried to let go, but there was slight resistance from Keima's fingers.
"Ke-Kei," his voice squeaked.
His friend chuckled with a hint of malice, relaxing his grip so Kiyoshi's fingers fell out.
Kiyoshi looked away, his head on fire. Covering his red cheeks with the back of his hand, he couldn't find a place where his eyes could rest on. "That's mean."
"Sorry." His friend chuckled again. But it was forced.
⚽️⚽️
"How much butter do you want?" Kiyoshi asked, peeking from the kitchen door.
Keima made a sound, busy searching for a movie on the TV. "The usual, I guess." Adding after Kiyoshi placed a hundred grams of butter, sprinkled sea salt, and added olive oil to the pan, he asked, "Are you going to make sweet popcorn, too?"
"Erm, I don't think so. Pimples," Kiyoshi yelled.
He finished getting the snacks ready and plopped himself down on the couch.
"Sayuri-san's at work?" Keima asked as he popped some hot popcorn in his mouth, his expression immediately glistening like Hachi-dan's clean fur under the sun. "Your snacks are the best!"
"Ah, thank you. . ." Kiyoshi said bashfully with a small smile. "It's something really simple. . . Olive oil is healthier than vegetable oil. The way carbohydrates are aligned. . ." Kiyoshi glanced at Keima, his faraway expression making him stop.
"Keima?" he called. No response. Taking his hand and stroking it, his friend blinked and turned.
"Yeah? Oh, you were saying?"
Kiyoshi shook his head. "Let's watch the movie," he said sadly.
Keima's hand below Kiyoshi's flew to his neck. "Crap, I did it again, didn't I? I'm so sorry."
Kiyoshi smiled tightly. "You don't have to apologize for things you don't have control of, Kei."
His friend frowned. "No, I should. I should be able to control it. I know I'm a liability right now. Even Itsuki is worried, more after I had told him."
Kiyoshi's mouth closed, and he looked away from Keima's direction. Itsuki, Keima's friend, one of their past teammates. A dirty bubble was rising from his gut. Keima's secret wasn't only theirs anymore.
"It's good someone else can help you at Tengawara," Kiyoshi said flatly.
"I. . . I guess. At least, it's a bit easier than last year."
Kiyoshi bit his lip. Keima and Itsuki became inseparable when they started middle school. But he didn't think Keima was capable of trusting someone else with this delicate topic during his absence.
It was his fault. He shouldn't blame Keima for this ugly feeling. But why the hell, why the hell did he need him if he had someone?
The movie started, the red oni's roar never stopping.
⚽️⚽️
Kiyoshi took the empty popcorn bowl when Keima spoke, "Hey, Kiyoshi?"
"Mn?" He stared down at the bowl, not bothering to look him in the eye.
"It's an insensitive question."
Kiyoshi scoffed. "Since when did you care about being sensible?" Adding, "I don't mind."
Keima rested his hand on his chin, fingers lazily touching his lips. He stared at Kiyoshi from the corner of his eyes for a moment. "Did you feel like this. . . when your sister left?"
"What are you. . . --!" Kiyoshi's memories received a blunt blow as if a bat was swung down his head full force. It awakened the memory of a cold blue eye gazing at him, disappearing a few moments later.
Kiyoshi gripped his head, the red oni flailing hysterically as its piercing roar cut his connection to reality. He witnessed the chains tighten around its limbs, torso, and neck, ripping its skin, but only causing its frenzy to increase.
The origin of the pain. The cause of the pain. The person he loved the most who left him, leaving him broken beyond repair. It was only time before Kiyoshi decided to cope by unconsciously creating a monster.
A faint squeeze brought him slightly back to reality.
"Mi. . . Miyu-chan. . ." Kiyoshi whispered her name between sharp breaths, tears strolling down the corners of his eyes.
"Kiyoshi, calm down! Don't think about it! I shouldn't have asked! Focus on my voice!" Keima didn't understand. He couldn't put it away now. He was more self-conscious than when he was a child. Him going crazy was also a matter of time.
"Damn it, Kiyoshi!" Keima took his face in his hands. "Kiyoshi, can you hear me?" The words sounded muffled. Kiyoshi tried to focus, hearing sharp breaths in a frenzy rhythm. He wanted Keima to stop him, but his mouth didn't move an inch.
Keima cursed again, hesitation and fear flooding his eyes. He took Kiyoshi's glasses off, asking him to close his eyes before leaning his forehead against his. "Kiyoshi, focus in my voice. It will be fine. Match my breathing," he said sternly.
Kiyoshi focused on Keima for a while, trying to obey his orders. His hands were warm against his cold skin, reminding him he wasn't alone despite fear and panic knawing his thoughts.
During that period, time seemed to stop. As Kiyoshi's breathing slowed, he held onto the sight of his friend even tighter.
After affirming he was calm, Keima carefully laid Kiyoshi on the couch and caressed his hair in a soothing manner. "Your breathing is back to normal. I'm glad it helped."
Kiyoshi's body was mostly immobile, strengthless, but he smiled as a sign of silent gratitude. It was the first time Keima had managed to stop it efficiently. He wondered if he had researched about it.
Keima was so caring and cool, keeping calm in a stressing situation. Kiyoshi blushed at the thought. His body was now warm and tired. The red oni was calm as well, filled with the emotions that flooded him.
As his consciousness faded, the song Keima was crying out hours before wafted into his ears once again, gaining a new meaning. It was how he felt about his sister, yearning for her presence, wondering if they will ever meet again, yet, wanting to forget the pain.
Whenever I begin to feel the burning tears,
As I look up at the sky.
I keep on looking forward at it hoping that
I'll find you soon enough in time.
I wonder if the stars that sparkle in my eyes
Will eventually subside.
Hiding from my endless heartbeat,
From my endless heartbeat.
Together you and I will always be alive,
Committed close to you I'll stay.
As long as I can hold your hand,
Again and again,
Then maybe I will find the way.
I can never travel back in time
But they smile back at me those days
And everything remains the same.
This pain I will soon awake from
What I see will melt all away,
With my tears.
Miyu-chan left him because he was weak. Because he was too scared to go against their mother. It had been six years, and his love for his dear sister hadn't faltered a second. It was so strong, the red oni cried.
That meant Keima and him were truly like snow bunnies, lonely creatures that look pleasing to the eyes. They melt during summer, leaving no trace of their previous existence behind.
Snow Bunnies | End