Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 34

Author's Note:

Uh. This is another Kamatari episode, and there's uh. Implied shounen ai. Just thought I'd post a warning. Heh. No triple-x stuff, since there's too much alcohol involved to get into all that. XD Read and see.

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Aoshi had reasons. Reasons for not wanting to get 'in touch with his inner self.' He had reasons not to want to open up, delve into the past, and stitch every little wound. The slight piece of paper that was in his hand was one of the reasons he did not want to go there.

'Furniture movers… daily food delivery… dog food… dog toys… cleaning ladies…' Aoshi ticked them off one by one in the back of his head. No, the Shinomori family had no financial problems, and these were simply spit in the bucket. But for crying out loud, it hadn't been a week yet.

His life? Changed. His routine? Abolished. His sanctuary? Shit on. Aoshi wanted a drink. Aoshi *needed* a drink. However, this was another one of those things in his past that he rather not dive back into. But, he was coming dangerously close to going there again.

*-*-*-*

Sanosuke was currently staring down a puppy, who was fiercely staring back at him. This had gone on for some good ten minutes, before Sano's neck started to cramp. 'Damn mutt.'

He was now official caretaker of the puppy during the school day. Since he was the only one who had the next week free before his classes started, he was dubbed official puppy sitter. And he was the *only* one who didn't want the puppy there in the first place!

Sano grinned, 'Well, not the *only* one.' Aoshi's expression when he discovered his room had been damn near priceless. He should've remembered to bring a camera. It was classic. Then again, Sano was well-humored when it came to his elder brother. So the guy was a jerk, anal retentive, obsessive compulsive, and colder than Antarctica when it's turned away from the sun… But regardless, that didn't make him any less of a brother.

'He needs to get laid,' Sano concluded, as he crossed his arms, and let the puppy yip in triumph. Rolling his eyes, he tried to recall the last girlfriend Aoshi had. Sucking in air through his teeth, Sano grimaced. The woman was fairly attractive, but that's about it. Sano fucked dumb blondes on occasion, but he couldn't imagine having a 'serious' relationship with one. Frankly, he usually got bored with 'em after one go. Okay, maybe three.

Shaking his head at that idle conclusion, Sano absentmindedly petted the dog. When he realized what he was doing he jerked back and both the dog and himself had surprised looks on their faces. Then both turned their backs one another and pretended it didn't happen.

*-*-*-*

Misao was listless on her bed, after another session of detention with Honjou-sensei. Why did she *always* have to be the moderator? Didn't she have better things to do after class?

Flashes of Honjou-sensei and her less than subtle caresses and advances to Hiko-sensei made Misao's stomach turn. Tsubame told her that there was nothing going on, that Hiko-sensei was infamous for not being tied down by any woman.

That of course led to a stream of S&M fantasies.

*-*-*-*

It was a time long ago, back in college. And we all know that 'back in college' oftentimes translates into, 'the times you never mention to your kids.' Aoshi had a lot of those times. It was especially torrid in first year, when he was paired up with Honjou Kamatari as dorm mates. He couldn't help but shudder any time the memories flooded him.

It hadn't been bad enough that they'd been roommates back in boarding school. Oh no, there just seemed to be no god on Aoshi's side in this lifetime. Fate would have it that he be paired again with the boy, an experience which was less than pleasant.

What had gone wrong you wonder? Well, Kamatari didn't always cross-dress. Heck, he didn't even know he was gay, or so Aoshi gathered. Apparently, Kamatari couldn't come out of a closet he was never in. He was a free spirit. He loved who he wanted to love, and that's all that mattered. Male or female. He was totally free with all of his emotions, and even outward gestures. And it annoyed Aoshi to the core.

It wasn't that he was a bad guy… wholly. It was just he was so… so…

'Perverted. Lecherous,' were the first words that popped into Aoshi's mind. It was like Kamatari's sexual peak lasted a good decade from the way he'd acted at the school. Aoshi couldn't call them friends, granted there were times where he didn't want the boy dead, but why did he have to show up *now*? And why in Misao's school?! As her *teacher*?! And why -

There weren't any answers. Or at least the gods were offering any. Aoshi once thought everything happened for a purpose.

Even the tryst with Sanjou had its own purpose. When that all went down, Aoshi was in a bad place. No, his heart hadn't been broken, but that was when the whispers started. Every wall spoke of the deeds that were hidden behind them, and every look was groping him like fresh meat. The sexualized objectification that that woman had placed over him was now taking toll.

Aoshi was sixteen, almost seventeen when it all went down. His father was none too pleased. But did he come to see his son? Yell at him in person? No. He sent a fax. "Keep quiet. You won't have to appear in court. Tell them nothing." 'Them' were the reporters, the journalists, the news casters, the ones who swarmed around the gates of the school constantly to get a peek or a hint of the boys that were … exploited. They begged for interviews from the boys, and many sold their soul and pride for their fifteen minutes in the spotlight. He almost wanted to thank his father for making sure his name was unattached. But that was all he was to his father. A name.

Aoshi had his father's name, and so could not be marred or stained, by any means.

It was one night, stormy and dark as most stories like this begin, and Aoshi couldn't sleep. Again. He would stare at the ceiling hoping that when his eyes tired, they'd fall shut, and he'll fall into slumber. That day he was in class, when a photographer had snuck in and started snapping photos in his face. And here he thought getting a desk by the door was a good idea.

It took three guys, and the teacher to hold him back from killing the man.

He had lost control. Now, when he really needed counseling, there was no one there. All the counselors were scared stiff. Their sessions all happening with the doors open, so that anyone could look in… or listen in, as the case may be. They didn't want to be the next scandal on the cover of a tabloid.

The young man sighed resignedly, draping an arm over his eyes. Luckily, he'd done it in time before light streamed in the room. Keeping his eyes closed, he removed his arms, and blinked a few times. His expression didn't change, but there was a nearly inaudible growl coming from the back of his throat. 'Kamatari.'

Kamatari had this annoying habit of sneaking out to the local pubs and getting people to buy him drinks. Sometimes, he hung outside liquor stores for the same thing. Aoshi never understood why the boy wanted to drown his liver so early in life, but it was none of his business. Frankly, he didn't care much, as long as he stayed out of the way.

Here in lies the problem.

"Aoshichi…" the boy almost slurred, gracelessly shutting the door behind him. The boy burst into giggles dropping onto the foot of Aoshi's bed, which was closest to the door. He reeked of cheap cigars, musk, and alcohol. Aoshi tried not to lurch. Sitting up on his elbows wearily, he kicked at the boy at the foot of his bed. "Wha-huh? Dun want any comp'ny?" Kamatari pouted. Aoshi only tilted his head towards the other bed, signifying to get the hell off of his. "Ne… but this one's closer… and it's so warm…"

As the boy crawled up, bringing his legs onto the bed and curled up into a ball at the bottom, cuddling what looked like a brown paper bag in his arms. If he got caught with liquor in the dorm, they might both be kicked out. But at the moment, Aoshi just wanted to kick the boy out of his bed. It was bad enough that he was having insomnia; he didn't need to be further molested by a girly drunk sex hound.

But the boy didn't move, save for a little tremble or two. He just lay on his side, curled around the paper bag like a teddy bear. Aoshi nearly jumped when the boy spoke, for the silence had stretched on for quite some bit. "Y'know. I like to drink."

'No shit,' Aoshi mentally swiped his hand over his face. He lay back and returned to watching the ceiling in the dark, attempting to ignore the boy curled up by his feet.

"When I drink I don't gotta think about stuff." Aoshi rolled his eyes. 'That's because you're body has better things to worry about. Like the fact that your liver's dying.' He could only see the outline of the boy with the moonlight streaming in from the window. Kamatari was smaller than Aoshi, just lithe and effeminate. It was a wonder how he survived in this alpha male environment. Aoshi supposed, theoretically, such a predicament could drive someone to drink.

"You drink, 'yoshi?" Aoshi brought fingers to pinch at the bridge of his nose. 'Control.' Fate was testing him.

"No." It was the truth. He hated alcohol. He hated how it turned good fathers into monsters, and how it turned a household into the seventh circle of hell.

"Ya'sure are a stronger man than me…" Kamatari's voice trailed. Aoshi felt his covers shift, as Kamatari balled it into his fist. "… I drink 'cause I'm weak, y'know." He said rather matter-of-factly. Aoshi saw the outline nod to himself out of the corner of his eye. He was prompted to sit back up on his elbows. As he was up, he might as well pretend to pay attention. Maybe then the boy'll go to sleep.

"… so I dun'hafta think about things." There was a soft hiccup. Was Kamatari crying? The boy's voice caught as he continued. "I-I don't even know why I'm talkin'ta you, you don't care… nobody does…" His voice slurred out to a soft murmur, almost indecipherable to Aoshi.

Although, he heard the important part: the part he could relate to. From where Aoshi was sitting right now, he had nobody. His mother had her family. His father had his business. He had no friends. And no longer had a poor excuse of a lover.

"But you know what 'yoshi?" Aoshi let his head loll to rest on his shoulder as if silently responding 'what.' "I figured somethin' out with this stuff…" Kamatari's voice was raspy as he sloshed the bottle around over head, the paper bag slipping off and finding a new home on the floor.

"What's that?" Aoshi was honestly curious, if not downright condescending. He watched the boy wince, as his fingers slipped and the bottle was dropped on the bed rolling into Aoshi's leg. Aoshi jumped a bit, but then realized the bottle was half empty and sealed tightly.

"That no'mattah' how much ya'try ta'forgot… the truth'll come and bite'ya on the ass the next mornin'," Kamatari broke out into humorless chuckles, pulling his knees into his chest. "When ya gotta look tha'boy in the face and think it's wrong, that you're wrong… that you just weren't born right…"

What the hell was he talking about now? Aoshi blinked, glad for the darkness as he might've actually been showing an expression. "Ya'gotta watch him skulk aroun'in shadows drownin' in his own hell right in front of ya!" His arm shot out suddenly, and as if there were an invisible handhold in the air, Kamatari dragged himself up to sit up. His back was to Aoshi, and he continued ranting, "Dead to the world! But when ya'drink 'yoshi… Hah! When ya drink!" Kamatari's hand swung slowly in the air scolding no one in particular.

"It's when ya'drink! Ya'discover that'funky thing called hope… even if it's all fuzzy and… hazy…" The boy was swaying back and forth almost dangerously threatening to fall off the end of the bed onto his face. Aoshi, for the life of him, had no bloody clue what to do. When his father got shit-faced, well, it usually meant that Aoshi was the one to fall unconscious first. "Ya think… Maybe… MAYBE!!!"… Kamatari shushed himself, blinking lazily in the darkness, "… that you could maybe… maybe…" his voice trailed as if he were forgetting what he was going to say.

"… that you'd be the one to set him free." Aoshi's eyes did widen, for no one to see, and in Kamatari's brief check with reality - that bout of sudden seriousness and clarity in his voice - it all came together. But as soon as it hit, it was gone, and Kamatari dropped his feet to the floor and slide down the end of the bed, till he was crouched in front of it. All Aoshi could really see was a shadowy hand waving a scolding finger in the air. "You gotta thank that lady for me…"

"… Sanjou-sensei?" Aoshi blurted, before he could realize what he was saying. He could sense Kamatari nodding.

"That's the one! Gad, who'd know a *woman* would show me the one I love…" Kamatari burst into empty giggles, which soon were dragged out by a gagging noise, and coughing. "…nigh'night 'yoshi."

As the room was lulled back to silence, Aoshi could've sworn he heard a whispered, "… daisuki."

So maybe it all had meaning after all.