Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Boarding School ❯ Truths & Memories ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Fake.

 

“Randy, please… look at me,” he said firmly. Slowly, Ryo complied. Dee tentatively reached a hand out and gently smoothed away his tears. “Honestly, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, I assumed you were ok with this…” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. If he had to look at the hurt in those huge, trusting eyes any longer he was going to loose it. “I promise I won't push you ever again, ok?” he pleaded. Ryo didn't look totally convinced, but the pain behind his eyes was receding. “Please,” Dee said plaintively, “forgive me.”

 

The blonde turned his eyes away, but he sighed and finally said in a small voice, “Alright.”

 

“You're the best Randy!” Dee cried, as giddy as a puppy being praised by his master.

 

“Ahh!” Ryo cried as Dee jumped up to hug him- but he laughed. “Ok, ok! I said your forgiven now get off!” he said smiling and wiping the remnants of his tears away.

 

Dee was immensely relieved to know that Ryo wasn't the type to hold grudges. He remained sitting next to the blonde on the bed and they settled into a comfortable position next to each other.

 

The room went quiet between them and Dee, afraid Ryo would suddenly say he had to return to his studying, tried to think of something to say. “Hey, Randy,” he began, looking intently into the other boy's eyes, “Your eyes are such a beautiful, dark shade of brown, are you part Japanese by any chance?”

 

Dee was totally unprepared for the look of dismay that suddenly passed over Ryo's face. Turning away, the blonde said, bitterness lacing his words, “Why? Why are you asking me that?”

 

“W-what do you mean?” Dee asked in return, bewildered by Ryo's reaction.

 

If there was one thing Ryo did /not/ want to discuss, it was his mixed heritage.

 

“Let's just forget it, ok?” Ryo replied dismissively. He moved to rise off the bed, but Dee caught his wrist.

 

“I don't want to forget it,” he said firmly. The blonde sat back down silently. “I want to know you,” Dee continued, moving around to kneel down in front of the other boy. “Tell me what's going on,” he pressed.

 

Ryo kept his eyes focused out one of the high windows. He couldn't look at Dee, he knew he'd give in if he saw those jade eyes searching him for answers. But even without looking, he could feel that emerald gaze penetrating him.

 

Knowing that he couldn't force Ryo to explain himself, Dee simply waited patiently, watching the emotions play over the blonde's beautiful features and wondering why his eyes were filling up once again with tears.

 

“Randy…” Dee whispered, wanting so badly to hold him, though he restrained himself, knowing Ryo probably needed his space.

 

“Randy isn't my name,” he said finally, his words clipped.

 

Dee's eyes widened in surprise, but he let Ryo continue.

 

“Its Ryo,” he said softly, one salty tear falling down a pale cheek. “It's the name my Japanese mother gave me.”

 

For a long moment the blonde boy was silent, then he finally turned to Dee and met his eyes.

 

“The War wasn't that long ago, Dee, do you really not remember what it was like for Japanese Americans then?” he asked.

 

Feeling like a total heel, Dee shrugged. “I was kind of absorbed in my own world when I was younger, I heard some things like everyone else, but…” he stopped, not sure if it was the right time to delve into his own checkered past.

 

Ryo wiped at the tears now flowing freely his eyes. “When I was about five, my mother and I were forcibly removed from our home and put into an internment camp,” he said.

 

“What?” Dee interrupted, “Why?”

 

Ryo's look was bitter. “It was a few weeks after Pearl Harbor,” he told him.

 

Dee could've kicked himself. Of course, how could he forget?

 

“My father” he continued, “was an American in the Army, himself and several others refused to fight in protest of their family's treatment in the camps.” He paused as fresh tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, “They were arrested and… my father was killed in an accident in the prison, I never really found out what happened.”

 

No longer able to hold himself back, Dee reached out and took Ryo in his arms, cradling him to his chest as he felt the sting of tears itch at the back of his own eyes. He wanted to tell Ryo to stop, that he didn't want to hear anymore about his pain, that it was breaking his heart, but he let him go on.

 

“My mother and I were in the camp for over three years, until the end of the War…” he paused, trying to get the words out and Dee felt the boy's whole body tense within the circle of his arms, “she fell sick during the last year and… she died before we were released.”

 

Dee rocked the slender boy as Ryo gave in to his sobs and let his own tears spill forth. The dark haired boy felt so inadequate, having no way to ease the blonde's painful memories. All he had to offer was his embrace and his warmth and he hoped that would be some consolidation. “Ryo…” he whispered with feeling.

 

The blonde felt an unbelievable sense of warmth steal over his body as he heard his name for the first time from Dee's lips. No one had called him that in since his mother had died and it was almost as if she was speaking through the other boy, telling him everything would be alright.

 

“You're here with me now, Ryo,” Dee said, settling kisses down over his golden hair. “I won't let anyone hurt you!” he said fervently, pulling the boy tightly against him.

 

“Dee,” the blonde said quietly as he nestled further into the dark-haired boy's embrace. “Say it again,” he said.

 

“I'll protect you,” he repeated.

 

“No,” Ryo protested, raising his head to look into Dee's tear strained eyes, `My name.”

 

With gentle tenderness, the other boy lifted his hands to frame Ryo's face and whispered passionately, “Ryo.” He drifted soft butterfly kisses over the boy's swollen eyelids, along the bridge of his nose, the line of his jaw- all the time repeating the one syllable like a sacred prayer: “Ryo, Ryo…Ryo.”

 

When Dee's lips closed over his own, Ryo kissed him back with all his heart and, without a thought in his mind, he whispered:

 

“I love you…”