Chapter 24: The Red Oni Who Cried (Part 3)
When his mother knocked sharply on his bedroom door, Kiyoshi felt a scream climb out of his throat. Floating on a semi-conscious sleep, morning had inevitably arrived, and with that a school day. He sniffed and wiped his eyes before curling into himself. A whimper escaped his lips. He buried his tear-stained face on the pillow, recalling the dream where Keima told him he didn't need him while clasping the girl's hand. It made his sore chest tighten.
His mother banged on the door again and spoke sharply. I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go. Kiyoshi sniffed again. I'll be alone. I'm not like Keima; I can't make friends that easily.
Mother hit again and gave her first--and only--warning. Kiyoshi crawled out of bed reluctantly, gripping the edges of the bedding on his shoulders like a cape. "I don't want to go," he whispered. The thought of Keima flashed through his mind, and his parched throat tightened.
Squeezing through the crowed entrance, Kiyoshi noticed the constant cold from his hands. He felt like a grain of salt in the sea of students, none of them calling him out or intersecting with his gaze. He looked down. If I wasn't here, would it make a difference?
Kiyoshi timidly entered the class with fearful and shameful steps. Sitting on his desk, he listened to the sounds around him, distant but in reality close. A few centimeters that felt like an uncrossable chasm.
The lecture would have been a distraction if Kiyoshi didn't already know it by heart. His muddled thoughts kept drifting to the cold air brushing against his skin and the gap he didn't know what to do about. Staring intently at the Social Studies teacher, Sakamoto-sensei, Kiyoshi realized this is what the young man meant by Kiyoshi's "situation in class." It was. . . painful.
Arisugawa is better than me, Kiyoshi thought. She's pretty and I'm sure she still has many friends. She's not like me. He sniffed quietly and caressed his hair, bumping onto Keima's hairclips. Stroking them for a moment, his smile soon disappeared. I don't even know what I feel for Keima. Kiyoshi jumped, a vibration in his pocket disrupting his thoughts. Carefully slipping out his flip phone, he pursed his lips at the name on the short screen.
Keima.
Subject: Hey!
I didn't see you after the match. Did you make it home safe?
Kiyoshi gnawed his lip. Maybe they aren't dating, he wanted to convince himself. He knew it was stupid to naturally assume they were. After all, finding out from the way they interacted was practically impossible. Knowing Keima, there was no way he told others. But he introduced Ai. . . but if this was serious--
The red oni shuffled around its chains.
That would be worse.
Re: Hey!
I did. Thanks.
Kiyoshi carefully looked up front in case the teacher had turned around, burying his phone inside the desk at the same time. Hesitating for a moment, he decided to reply sooner than later. Yet, while he mulled over an answer, the bell rang. He bolted out of the classroom with his bentou to the side of the school building.
Re: Hey!
I did, thanks (o'ω'o) Sorry for leaving out nowhere m( )m Um, do you
want to meet up today? :;(∩'﹏'∩);:
A reply followed a minute later. They must be on break too.
Re: Re: Hey!
Sure! I'll be home early.
Kiyoshi cordially agreed to go to his house--although he didn't mind meeting outside either.
In the train home, Kiyoshi got another message from Keima.
Subject: I'm home
I'm excited (๑•̀ㅂ•́*)
Kiyoshi contained a laugh inside puffed his cheeks and shot his head down. A kaomoji? It's adorable. Was the message a status update or something? Maybe he was that excited to see him. Kiyoshi smiled. Maybe--maybe, he felt a small light lit inside his heart. Keima was important to him, there was no denying it.
What did Keima feel?
As he prepared to leave the house, key questions Kiyoshi felt he should have asked Keima long ago flooded in his mind. It was really late for them, but he knew Keima was willing to talk and listen.
The afternoon sun was pleasant on his skin, cap left at home. He could do this. He could feel it.
⚽️🐰⚽️
Keima's charming smile was too lively for someone who had tragically lost an important match. He was talking like crazy, sparkling as if. . . he was happy. Kiyoshi didn't comment on that, merely smiling with similar strength in his own terms. He couldn't bring Keima down to earth. He couldn't dare to hurt him more.
"I didn't know you use kaomoji," Keima said with a cheery half-grin, chin dropped on his arms against the rolling desk chair.
Kiyoshi twirled his thumbs. "I started using them with Shino-san." He looked down from Keima's intent gaze. "Um. . . "
"Mnmh?"
"Yu-you are staring a lot. I-I mean--"
"Oh, sorry." Keima looked away and scratched his shapely neck, the flush on his plump cheeks making Kiyoshi more embarrassed. He wasn't ready to ditch the hoodie, pulling down the collar and fanning himself.
"Mind if we go out?" Kiyoshi asked. Keima bobbed his head and smiled. They slipped out of the house without much trouble, but they had to come back by sundown.
The city was calm and welcoming. They wandered around familiar places while talking about their recent pasts. They toured the parks and the grand shrine, and the candy store they used to go when they were small. All the while, their distinctive voices echoed softly, hugging them in a nostalgic and unusual atmosphere. At some point, Kiyoshi's hand had found Keima's. He inched closer, laying his hunched shoulder against the taller boy. Maybe this was their future--warm, peaceful, accepting. Everything felt right; their intertwined fingers felt right.
"Kin used to sit near the riverbank," Keima said with a wistful smile. His expression told Kiyoshi he was at peace.
"How do you feel?" Kiyoshi asked.
"I feel good," his friend replied with surprising ease. "I haven't felt like this since. . . ever." His smile widened, head tilting down. "And it's all thanks to you."
Kiyoshi felt his lips quiver. He loved him so much. Was it romance? Desire? He had no idea. He just wanted Keima to be happy. Laugh like today. But forever.
They shared a hug, eyes meeting when they pulled away. Yet Kiyoshi didn't answer the impulse when his beloved's lips were close. He couldn't do it until he asked how Keima felt about him, and that didn't feel right today.
"The charm, do you still have it?"
Kiyoshi lifted his chin to his friend. "Which charm?"
"The one you got from the shrine this year."
"Oh! Yeah." Kiyoshi pulled out a keychain. The red and gold amulet spelled 'Certain Victory.' "Wait, how do you know?!"
"I saw you while I was helping to put stuff away." Keima chuckled gleefully.
Heat rose to his cheeks. He saw him hop around the stands like a scared rabbit while they were closing? It was a tale of bravery from his eyes but in others, he looked like an idiot. An idiot who dropped by a local festival on the verge of closing and then asserted he went.
"I didn't know you were going," Keima said softly with an edge of disappointment.
"Shino-san encouraged me." Kiyoshi added a second later, "it's the first one I went. Well, after. . . "
Keima made a sound of acknowledgment. The painful memory was better left unopened. "It was brave of you." He squeezed Kiyoshi's hand who smiled.
"Thank you. Thanks for noticing," he lowered his voice, "and not laughing."
Keima's fringe hardened. "I know how hard it's for you to be around people. I would never make fun of you, Kiyoshi." Their gazes met and silently spoke about those terrible memories: a past that still haunted Kiyoshi and its scar that continued to throb.
"You did great." With those words, joyful tears rolled down Kiyoshi's cheeks. He thanked Keima and wiped his eyes before changing the topic with ease.
The boys doubled back to downtown. Afar, the station was packed with commuters. Kiyoshi continued walking forward holding onto Keima's hand.
Suddenly, Keima's broad shoulder left the corner of his sight and Kiyoshi jerked back under the weight. Keima was rooted to the ground, unflinching. His previously hopeful gaze twisted with angst.
"We can't." He stared at Kiyoshi, voice shaking. "I'm sorry, I can't."
Kiyoshi glanced at the mass of people. "Nobody will notice."
Keima shook his head helplessly. "You don't know who's there."
He insisted. "If we were kids, nobody would say anything!"
"We are not kids anymore!" Keima yelled. "We can't do things like these in front of other people! Kiyoshi please."
Tears built on Kiyoshi's eyes. He couldn't say no to that.
"Keima-kun~☆" Everything seemed to move in slow motion: Keima's surprised expression, his stumble; the blue blur taking the form of the evil witch; and the red oni snapping after it realized she had taken Keima's other hand, causing him to let go of Kiyoshi's.
"What a coincidence!" The girl said in a high-pitched voice, fake sweetness dripping like syrup. Her lolita dress swayed with the slight breeze, just like that glamorous, straight blue hair. Her full attention was on Keima on purpose.
"Chika--"
"Ryuugamine-kun? It's been a while! How are you doing? I heard you are in another school."
'Away from Keima.'
Wordlessly, Kiyoshi gazed at their joined hands. An emotion he rarely felt bubbled in his chest, dark and unpleasant.
"Chika stop--"
"Anyway, I'm glad to see you." She must have told Keima as her tone became sincere. "You do look better than I hoped. I'm glad."
Keima didn't reply. Kiyoshi lifted his eyes when Arisugawa's dress swayed towards the boy.
"Let me know when we can go on a date again."
The silence she left was disgusting like a crumpled paper. Kiyoshi stared as Keima's expression shifted from surprise to shame and guilt before trying to hide it all.
"You are dating her," Kiyoshi stated. "Arisugawa. That bitch who. . ."
"I'm not," Keima replied with rising desperation behind a blank expression. "We are not a couple."
"Then what?" Kiyoshi hissed. "She said 'again'."
Keima looked down, replying with a steadier tone. "It wasn't a date for me."
"She's been going after you for years! We both know that!" Kiyoshi stuttered for a while. "Of all the girls you could have gone out with--she. . . all the things she did, Keima."
His body tightened. "You left me dealing with all those feelings!" His fists balled. "You knew you were the only one I trusted and you left me!"
"And that gives you the right to date the girl who bullied me?!" Kiyoshi pointed at the direction she left. "She is the reason I can't be around people. She is the reason I hate this stupid world!" He scrunched his eyes. "The reason I can't ride the train like a normal person every day. The reason I want to die."
"You got it wrong, Kiyoshi. It wasn't her." The words captured Kiyoshi's attention. "It was someone else."
"Did she tell you that?" Keima nodded. "How can you trust her?" he spat.
"It sounded like something you would do. Given the circumstances."
"What?"
Keima gave him an uneasy look. "You don't remember?"
"What else should I remember than being tormented for a full year for being different?"
He sighed. ". . . You really like being the victim, don't you?" Kiyoshi winced. "You don't remember throwing her a plate of curry in class?" He clicked his tongue. It did stir his memory.
"So what?"
Keima frowned away, a distinct tinge of disappointment dying his eyes. "You aren't entirely blameless--"
"So now it's my fault?" Kiyoshi hissed under his breath.
"I didn't say that." Keima sighed an I-don't-want-to-fight breath.
"I don't want you near her," Kiyoshi admitted.
"You can't force me," Keima gently reprimanded.
He shook his head. "No no no! You can't be with her! You can't! You can't! You can't! You CAN'T! She likes you!"
"I know. She isn't a bad person, you know?"
"Do you--" Kiyoshi sniffed. "Do you like her?" He didn't get a reply. "You disappoint me," he said shakily. "You have been ignoring her for years and have no intention of reciprocating her feelings. You just," he gulped, "Want to feel important."
Keima clamped his lips together. "You haven't taken responsibility for the things you have caused. I--" Keima quickly wiped his eye and sniffed. "I always have to clean after you." Kiyoshi let a strained silence settle, and he continued. "Even after I learned what you did to Chika, I couldn't bring myself to blame you. I have never blamed you for what you have caused." He clutched his arm. "And that makes me an idiot." Without receiving a reply, Keima met Kiyoshi's cold gaze. "You really have no idea what I'm talking about?" He smiled sadly, begging to be proven wrong.
"I don't," Kiyoshi answered.
Keima's Adam's apple shifted with a gulp. "Then there's nothing to talk about." He spun on his heels but quickly looked back. "You said a real friendship is one that let two people hurt each other but I don't agree." His gaze fell. "When one party ends up hurt, the guilty party should take responsibility."
Kiyoshi grasped his arms. Keima had long left. "Look who's talking, Mr. I Hate Promises. Idiot." I still haven't--what the fuck have you given me after I have been babying you these weeks? Kiyoshi gripped his head, the situation becoming clearer. Why aren't you around when I need you anymore?
The Red Oni Who Cried (Part 3) | End