Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a normal Tuesday morning. Giyuu’s phone livens, screen brightening as a loud, irritating default alarm tone wails through his room, waking him. A single hand emerges from a curled up mass of blanket, sliding around the bed until it finds the phone, promptly turning it off. A groan, and Giyuu is pulling the blanket down so that he can peer through cloudy, sleepy eyes at the window, catching the morning rays of sun peeking in through the blinds. Groaning again, he sits himself up, flattening his hair with his hands as he yawns.

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he stands, stretching, before shuffling over to the old, rickety set of wooden drawers that hold his clothes. Blindly reaching into a few drawers, he pulls out a shirt, jeans, and socks, tossing them onto his bed. Moving on muscle memory, he discards his sleep clothes, languidly pulling on the fresh ones afterwards.

Unplugging his phone from the wall, he then shuffles into the bathroom. Rubbing his eyes, he allows himself a peek of post-sleep Giyuu. Dark bags hang beneath his eyes and his hair sticks up in more places than one, his ponytail having loosened in his sleep. He looks dead, but all he can bring himself to do is run his hands through his hair a few times before tying it back again, making himself look just a smidge more put together. Reaching for the toothpaste tube sitting on the sink, he blinks as he holds the empty container.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, tossing it into the trash bin. He forgot to swing by the store after school yesterday. Grabbing a handful of tap water, he swishes it around in his mouth for a few seconds, wondering if it’s even doing anything. Spitting it out, he wipes his mouth and shuffles back into his room.

Picking his backpack up off the ground, he throws it over his shoulder as he slips his old, dirty shoes on. Exiting his room for the last time, he shuts his door, hopeful that his mother won't go through his stuff again.

Stepping quietly down the hall, he relaxes when he hears soft snoring coming from the living room. Turning a corner, he spots her on the couch, face squished against a pillow.

Heading into the kitchen, Giyuu opens the fridge, reaching for a cup of yogurt to stash into his backpack. Feeling ready, he ensures he has his house key before leaving out the front door, locking it after him. Not like it matters. His mother will find some way to leave it unlocked like usual, and he’ll just stroll in after class.

A sunny Tuesday, it proves to be. Birds sit high in one of the only left living trees on the street, chirping and singing. Very few clouds litter the sky, opening up a sky of deep blue, lightening with the morning. Dew rests upon their dirt lawn, the few weeds that spring up happy with the moisture.

Stepping down the steps, Giyuu heads off, his destination being school, where he’ll have a normal Tuesday. And he won’t forget to go to the store on his way back from class.

◇

Scratch that. Today is not a normal Tuesday.

When he finally made it to campus, everything still seemed ordinary enough. A few kids lingered at the front gates, sliding joints beneath their jackets, giggling inconspicuously to each other. Cars pulled up to the front curb, dropping other kids off that waved happily to their parents, exchanging pleasantries and “I love you’s”. Giyuu walked past it all, past the nerds playing Magic: The Gathering on the floor and the few dance girls already loudly chewing gum as they gasp at some sort of story the other tells. A chorus of “what a bitch!” could be heard echoing down the halls.

Stepping into his first period class, Shinobu sat at her desk, surrounded by her very giggly friends. Passing him a quick side eye as he sat down, she scoffed quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. He set down his backpack and rested his head on his desk, closing his eyes to catch a few extra minutes of sleep before class began.

So yeah, everything was normal. Until the bell rings, and the shuffling of feet has stopped, signaling to him that everyone was finally in their seats. Giyuu figured he could sleep through the morning announcements, he never really paid much attention to them anyways. Plus, he was finally drifting off. But his teacher begins speaking, and his interest is piqued.

“Good morning, today we have a new student.”

Giyuu doesn’t really care about learning the names of the kids in his class, but a new arrival in the middle of the school year? Removing his head from the comfort of his desk, his eyes adjust to the light before settling on the boy standing at the front of the room, right next to the teacher.

“Sanemi Shinazugawa,” is all he states when all eyes turn to him. Silence falls over the room.

He has white hair and scars littering his skin that match the color. His eyebrows are drawn together and his lips are tugged into a deep frown. Adorning his body is ripped black jeans and a band shirt that’s hardly readable with a big, messy font. Crossing his arms, he glares at the sea of students, challenging them with just his gaze alone. Somewhere behind him, he hears a girl mutter something to one of her friends, who gasps in return.

“Shinazugawa, you can sit next to Tomioka. Tomioka, please raise your hand.”

Huh? The scary dude is sitting next to him?

A quick glance around the room shows Giyuu that there are other open seats in the class, and he was chosen as the lamb for the slaughter. What the fuck?

Raising his hand, the new guy's eyes lock to his almost immediately. All he can do is blink dumbly. Shinobu snickers to herself nearby, and he resists everything in himself that wants to tell her to go fuck herself.

It’s honestly a little scary, the way the boy stalks towards him, steps loud and eyes looking angry. Is he going to die?

But he just slumps into the seat beside him, wordlessly, without so much as another glance his way. Slowly retracting his arm, Giyuu stares at him for a moment before turning to pull his things from his backpack.

When Giyuu has laid out his things, he notices the bareness of the desk beside him. The scary guy just sits, eyes forward, arms still crossed as he slouches in his chair. A sad thought crosses his mind. Maybe he doesn’t have any school supplies. And well, Giyuu is a nice person, despite his mostly apathetic nature, and feels like maybe he could help this new guy out. He looks scary, but what if he’s just a simple, cool guy?

“Hey,” Giyuu whispers, and the new guy turns his head to look him up and down. “Do you need a pencil or something?”

Giyuu receives silence for a few moments, before Sanemi’s eyebrows furrow further and disgust is written on his face.

“Fuck off,” he spits.

Shinobu snickers again to herself beside them, and Giyuu is at a loss for words. Okay, awesome, not a cool guy.

“Well,” Giyuu draws out awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. Quiet, he should probably stay quiet. But of course, he doesn't do that.

“If you need anything just let me know.”

“Are you deaf?” Sanemi snaps back immediately, glaring at him some more, “I said to fuck off.”

Message received, loud and clear. Giyuu turns back towards his desk, ignoring the giant landmine beside him who is apparently set off by just simple conversation. This is going to fucking suck.

◇

Giyuu makes it to lunch without another freak out from the guy next to him. Sanemi had sunk lower and lower in his chair throughout their first few periods, which they, unfortunately, have together. Until the bell rang, and he was promptly shoving people aside to get out of the classroom. Giyuu wonders what crawled up his ass and died.

Telling himself it doesn’t matter, and that he would survive the rest of the year, he grabs his backpack and heads outside to eat lunch.

Behind the gym building like usual, his back slides against the wall as he meets the floor, drawing his knees to his chest. For a moment he just stares at the fencing separating the school ground from the neighborhood next door, watching as birds land on the poles and sing sweet songs to each other. It’s cooler back here, where it’s shaded, and quieter too, away from all the noise from the cafeteria and the lunch tables outside. Technically, he’s not supposed to be over here. Students aren’t allowed to wander campus during lunch, given that there’s been too many fights this year behind some buildings in particular. But he slips out from beneath his teacher’s gaze everyday anyways, retreating to a place he can breathe for a bit.

Sometimes, there’s footsteps nearby. Usually a teacher heading to their classroom, sometimes a sports student grabbing some equipment from the storage shed. But never have they grown as loud and as close as the ones he hears now are. They started quiet, normal, but now they’re just around the corner, and Giyuu freezes in place, praying that it’s not a teacher coming to harass him about the importance of socializing during their breaks.

A figure turns the corner, and he locks eyes with Sanemi, arms crossed, staring down at him. Giyuu looks back at him wordlessly, and it feels like they’re having a staring contest.

“Get lost,” Sanemi finally says after a few moments of sizing him up, and Giyuu sighs.

“I literally sit here every day.”

Sanemi scowls. “Does it look like I care?”

Giyuu sends him a confused look.

“There’s so much space back here, just sit down somewhere.”

Sanemi doesn’t respond, just stares at him as his face turns red. Uh oh. Giyuu can feel himself digging his own grave.

“I won't bother you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You know when you make a decision in a video game, and you realize that you’ve picked the wrong dialogue option? That’s how Giyuu feels at the moment with Sanemi getting closer and squatting down to get on his level.

“You have some fuckin’ nerve,” he spits, and Giyuu silently accepts death. But nothing comes, and Sanemi just stands again, moving a few feet to the side and plopping down against the wall, mirroring Giyuu.

Giyuu is confused, even more so when Sanemi silently picks up a handful of rocks and begins throwing them one by one at the house sitting just across the fence signaling the end of campus. Each one smacks into the side of the building, bouncing off the wood and falling somewhere in the yard. Giyuu watches, transfixed at the action.

Just as he turns his phone on to distract himself, a man emerges from the house, an angry gaze pointed at the two boys sitting against the back wall of the gym. He stomps up to the fence, hitting it with his hands.

“Knock it off!” he yells, and Giyuu watches in slight horror as he witnesses Sanemi’s first smile of the day. The corners of his lips are tugged high, showing off a wicked grin as he raises his hand to send the man the bird.

The man stomps back inside, slamming his door, and Sanemi continues throwing rocks. His eyes eventually meet Giyuu’s and he sends him a questioning look.

“The fuck are you looking at?”

Giyuu returns his gaze to his phone, telling himself to stop triggering the guy, else he wants to end up flattened on the concrete with several bruises and possibly some broken bones.

Holding his knees closer to his chest, Giyuu scrolls through his phone, drowning out the snickers from beside him followed by the clinking of rocks against the fence and of a home with an angry man.

◇

After lunch is math, and Giyuu has sat in silence long enough. For the past twenty minutes, he and Sanemi have sat in awkward silence as the class around them discusses their math assignment, some disregarding it and gossiping instead. Actually, he doesn’t think anyone is actually working on it by now. He finished the worksheet a few minutes ago, and with nothing else to occupy his mind, he feels very aware of the presence beside him. Giyuu is one that enjoys silence, accepts it readily and marinates in it as long as he possibly can. But this– this is the worst kind of silence, and it’s putting him on edge. He figures that if Sanemi hasn’t beaten him to a pulp yet, he may be able to try one more time to connect with the guy before he gives up for good. They’ll be desk partners for the rest of the year, so it’s good to try.

Giyuu turns to Sanemi, and Sanemi side eyes him.

“Have you ever used the pythagorean theorem?”

“The fuck?” Sanemi questions, glancing down at the finished assignment sheet, “if you already finished just put my name on it and turn it in.”

Giyuu glances down at the paper. He already did. He looks back up, finding Sanemi’s eyes still on his.

“Do you, uh,” Giyuu starts, turning the cogs in his brain to try and find an appropriate way to start a conversation, “like the school so far?”

Sanemi looks less angry, more annoyed now. Hey, maybe that’s a step in the right direction!

“It would be a lot better if you stopped trying to fucking talk to me.”

Never mind.

Giyuu nods, turning away from his desk partner. Resting his head on his hand, he stares out the window next to them instead, deciding to stop trying with the guy. Taking a deep breath, he makes a mental checklist of all the things he needs to pick up from the store after class.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow was not better. Nor was the rest of the week.

Giyuu stuck to his promise of not trying to make headway with Sanemi again. And for the most part, Sanemi left him the hell alone. Apart from when Giyuu dropped his eraser, which bounced and hit Sanemi in the leg; he got a nasty glare for that one. Or when he was walking down the hall, and of course Sanemi, the scary, cool guy he is, bumped right into his shoulder, nearly shoving Giyuu to the ground. No apology, just a scoff that bounced off the walls, ringing in his ears.

What’s another person that hates him? As Shinobu says, he is an unlikable person, there’s bound to be many already. He’s just adding on to the very long list.

So Giyuu minds his business as much as he can, and only glances at Sanemi while he’s not looking, or when he catches a flash of white hair during lunch, watching him climb a tree or finding a plant to rip from the ground and unleash his seemingly never ending fury on.

That’s one thing that Giyuu doesn’t quite understand. Sanemi hasn’t made any friends yet. And yeah, that should be obvious given his attitude, but there are tons of guys like him at this school. Angry, hormonal, loud. Their personalities mirror his almost perfectly, so why hasn’t he found a little clique of rage dudes?

Whatever. It’s not his problem. If the guy doesn’t want any friends, so be it. He can be alone for all Giyuu cares.

Friday morning rolls around. Giyuu rises from his bed like a zombie, shuffles to the bathroom, grabs his now full toothpaste tube and brushes his teeth, half asleep. Fixing his hair into a ponytail, he changes, grabs his backpack, and walks carefully out of his room to the kitchen.

On the couch his mother lies, head resting on the arm of a man Giyuu didn’t see or hear come in last night. He supposes there’s no way he would, he stayed up until two in the morning under his covers watching YouTube videos with his headphones on, blocking out the world around him.

Snoring from the strange man fills the house, and Giyuu scrunches his nose as he opens the fridge door. He should have one yogurt left for lunch today– 

Giyuu eyes the empty shelf on the fridge where his yogurt should be sitting. 

Someone ate his fucking yogurt. 

Closing the door, he blinks wordlessly at the man beneath his mother, still passed out on the couch. He bets the motherfucker ate his goddamn yogurt.

Accepting his fate, he opens a cupboard, grabbing one of the last packages of top ramen and stuffing it into his backpack. Shit. Another trip to the store. Turning back to the living room, Giyuu decides that if this guy is going to eat his yogurt, the least he can do is pay for more. Stepping carefully into the room, the little noise he makes is masked by the snoring. Slowly, Giyuu reaches for the man's pocket, his fingers clasping around the edge of his wallet sticking out. Holding his breath, Giyuu pulls, and the wallet comes out pretty easily. Flipping it open, he grabs a few twenties, stuffing them into his pocket. Sliding the wallet back into this guy’s pocket is a bit harder, but Giyuu does it without waking him up.

And then he’s walking out of the house, closing the door without a care for being quiet.

Orange is painted across the sky, mixing with a deep navy blue, indicating the rise of the sun. Birds, like usual, chirp distantly outside, welcoming Giyuu into the cool, fresh air of the dewy morning. He walks to school.

Sanemi doesn’t show up for most of the morning. He enjoys the time he gets alone, the desk all to himself as he listens to their teachers drone on about things he absentmindedly writes in his notebook, not yet committing to memory. He thinks that this may be a good Friday, that he’ll go the entire day without an angry scowl directed at him from the white haired new kid and he’ll have a successful trip to the store after class.

His hope flies out the window when Sanemi swings the classroom door open, anger written all over his face, paired with a black eye and a gash on his chin. There’s a bit of red on his shirt, and Giyuu thinks he knows what it is.

Not even acknowledging the teacher, Sanemi stomps through the room, plopping himself into his seat. Giyuu notices his heavy breathing, the tenseness in his shoulders and the way he digs his fingernails into his palm. This is different from his usual anger; deeper, more pronounced.

Their teacher keeps rambling on, but most of the class isn’t paying attention anymore. From around them Giyuu can hear the murmurs floating around, talking about a certain boy he shares his desk with.

“I heard he’s in a gang.”

“Really? I heard he’s a drug dealer.”

“Both can be true at once, you know.”

Now, Giyuu doesn’t actually know this dude. So he can’t say for sure that he isn’t in a gang, or that he’s not a drug dealer. But when he looks at Sanemi’s face, traces the injuries with his gaze, he can’t help but feel bad. He’s a teenage boy. Sometimes they do stupid shit and get into fights. It’s not easy being new to a school, and this dude is probably lonely and angry.

He could help, could silence the rumors and tell off the other kids spreading shit they know nothing about. But not wanting to poke the bear, Giyuu rips his gaze away from Sanemi, settling them back on the whiteboard and copying down the notes he missed. Something within him is worried, but he pushes that down, reminding himself that Sanemi doesn’t want his help, however good natured it is.

◇

Giyuu sits with his back against the gym, phone in hand, eyes fixed on a YouTube video he found just minutes prior. The only thing missing is his yogurt cup– he mentally curses out the man who ate it. Reaching a hand into his backpack, he pulls out the ramen packet, eyeing the orange packaging before ripping it open. Plucking out the seasoning packet, he sets it aside. Folding over the top of the packaging, he essentially closes the bag again, before slamming it onto the concrete beneath him, breaking the block up into smaller pieces. Deeming it crushed enough, he reaches for the seasoning packet, rips open the silver before dumping the powder into the bag. Shaking it up, he’s made his lunch for the day. Dry ramen. Sticking his fingers into the bag, he pulls out a chunk of dry noodles coated in powder and pops it into his mouth, crunching.

It’s not good by any means, but it’s something to ease the ache in his stomach.

Not soon after he begins munching on his noodles, heavy footsteps bring his attention away from his phone.

Sanemi stomps behind the building, slumping down against the gym a few feet away from him. Giyuu tries his best to maintain focus on his phone, but that task is lost when Sanemi begins speaking.

“Is everyone at this school fucking stupid?”

Giyuu glances over at the boy, who’s now digging his fingers into his knees rather than his palms, teeth grating together. Giyuu thinks of Shinobu. “Yeah.”

Sanemi scoffs, finally looking over at Giyuu. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares, and Giyuu wonders what he’s thinking, what’s turning the cogs in his mind. He doesn’t have to wonder for long.

“You might be the least annoying motherfucker in this place.”

Giyuu nods, processing his words.

“Thank you?”

Sanemi huffs in response, before his eyes finally find the bag of ramen in his hands.

“Are you eating fucking uncooked top ramen?”

Giyuu glances between Sanemi and his lunch.

“Uh, yeah. Want some?”

Giyuu extends his arm, but Sanemi just gives him a look of confusion and disgust.

“Okay, maybe the least annoying, but you sure as hell are the weirdest. What are you even doing behind the gym every day?”

Sanemi says it like an insult, and Giyuu is confused.

“But you’re back here too?”

Sanemi huffs again, crossing his arms. “Whatever.”

For the rest of lunch, a shockingly peaceful silence befalls the two. Sanemi, picking at the rips in his jeans and Giyuu, munching quietly on his noodles as he stares at the houses on the other side of the fence.

But eventually, their time comes to a close with the ringing of a school bell and the sound of many pairs of feet shuffling to class. Giyuu crumples up his now empty ramen packaging and stuffs it into his backpack, standing. Sanemi mirrors him, and oddly enough the two fall into a comfortable walking pace back to class, side by side.

It feels weird, having Sanemi walk with him like this, and it’s clear that it’s weird for the rest of the school as well. Walking down the halls, people eye them as they pass, small glances and wide eyes as they whisper something to their friends. Giyuu doesn’t really want to know what they’re saying, it’s probably nothing very good anyways.

Entering the classroom, their classmates quiet reasonably as Sanemi walks in. Finding Shinobu’s eyes in the sea of students, he can see the confusion present in her purple eyes, narrowing at him. Giyuu shakes it off and just plops into his seat beside Sanemi, who throws his legs up onto the desk and leans back in his chair.

Giyuu settles into his normal position, head on the table, cheek squished against the wood as he allows his eyes to close, his mind to wander. Drifting to sleep in class is easy when it’s the end of the school week and you barely get any rest at home.

He’s just about to slip into beautiful unconsciousness when there's something poking the back of his head. Stirring, Giyuu turns his head to find Sanemi’s gaze, oddly without a hint of anger. Beside his head is a math worksheet. Shit, they’ve already been passed out? Giyuu lifts his head off the table, thinking that Sanemi must be prodding him to do their worksheet so he’ll get a good grade.

“Give me a pencil.”

Giyuu freezes for a second as he looks at his desk partner.

“You want a pencil?” Giyuu asks before thinking, and mentally he curses himself, “oh, uh, yeah one sec.”

Digging around his backpack, he produces one of his pencils, a sky blue mechanical one. Sanemi takes it from his outstretched hand and slides the worksheet towards him. Giyuu watches in curiosity as Sanemi stares intently at the paper, pencil in hand, brain working overtime as he tries to understand the questions. He’s… trying to do the math worksheet?

Giyuu rests his cheek on his hand, watching Sanemi scribble down numbers that don’t really make sense in the context of the problem. After Sanemi has deemed the first question finished, he slides the paper back over to Giyuu, who looks over the work.

“Is this right?” he questions, crossing his arms, and Giyuu is a little scared.

“Uh, no. Not at all.”

Sanemi scowls, staring at the paper like it just murdered his entire family.

“Teach me,” Sanemi orders.

Eyeing him, Giyuu grabs an eraser from his desk, erasing the jumbled numbers on the page. When it’s clear, he grabs another pencil, writing down a formula.

“This is how to find the area of a triangle,” Giyuu explains, pointing at each variable, “this number shows that it’s half of a rectangle, this stands for base, and this stands for height.”

Sanemi stares at the page for a moment, before letting out a quiet, “oh”. Snatching the pencil Giyuu lent him, he scribbles out more numbers, but ones that make sense this time, and Giyuu smiles.

“That’s right, you just plug it in to find the area, that’s the shaded part.”

Sanemi is suddenly pointing the pencil at his face. “You’re tutoring me in math.”

Giyuu nods slowly, knowing that he can’t really refuse.

“Good,” he mutters, and Giyuu swears there’s something like a smile on his face, but the flash of friendliness is gone just as fast as it came, “now what the fuck is this question?”

Giyuu turns back to the worksheet.

◇

Giyuu is getting ready to leave, packing his backpack as the final bell rings. It’s beginning to cool outside, now that the afternoon is slipping towards evening, and Giyuu reckons the walk home will be pleasant today. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he moves from his desk, making for the classroom door. And he makes it out without a fuss, except for when Sanemi finds his side as he walks towards the school gates. White hair peeks into his peripheral, and Giyuu eyes him.

“Uh, hi?” Giyuu greets, awkwardly. Sanemi has his arms crossed, refusing to look at him.

“What?” Sanemi questions.

Giyuu looks around as they walk outside, greeted by the nearly setting sun and a cool breeze.

“Are we walking home together?”

Sanemi sighs, and Giyuu feels like he’s missing something.

“You’re tutoring me.”

Giyuu blinks.

“Oh. You meant today? Well, uh, I have to stop at the store on the way back. If you’re cool with that?”

Sanemi shrugs, “whatever.”

Giyuu nods, and they fall into their new usual silence as they walk, with Sanemi glaring at every person that passes and ripping up random plants that dare to brush against his hip.

There’s a whole world they pass by as they walk along the street's edge, with cars zooming past and dragonflies whirring overhead. Yards filled with dead grass and broken down cars greet them, sometimes broken up by hedges of lush, green bushes that merely act as ornaments for even grander houses that neither Giyuu nor Sanemi could ever dream of stepping into. They’re so close, they can touch the perimeter fences, but they stand so far, trapped in their own worlds that couldn't dream of crossing with people who own places like these. A place so unattainable and unfathomable, and they pass by every day, to go and return from school.

Giyuu glances at these houses, perking up at the sound of children’s laughter and music, of the gates opening as a car that costs more than he could imagine drives in, parking in the large driveway. Sanemi glances too, but doesn’t look nearly as long as Giyuu does, and mutters something under his breath that cannot be heard over the sound of rustling trees.

Their adventure comes to a pitstop at the small market nearby Giyuu’s home. A bell jingles as the two high schoolers shuffle in, and a sleep deprived, underpaid teenage worker sits slumped behind the counter, half asleep and glancing in their general direction as a sort of greeting. Giyuu heads straight for the food section, plucking various things off the shelf and holding them in his arms. Sanemi follows behind, staring, and the shorter predicts that he’s being judged for his choices.

More ramen in hand, Giyuu heads to where the yogurt is, grabbing a pack of blueberry flavor. Next, he shuffles over to the dish soap, where he grabs the biggest bottle he can find. Sanemi eyes him.

“What, you grocery shopping?”

Giyuu glances at him as he readjusts his pile of groceries. Giyuu realizes that it’s probably not normal for him to be grocery shopping for his family using stolen money from a guy his mother hooked up with. And a part of him is a bit embarrassed that Sanemi can already see his family dysfunction before he even steps into his house. But a part of Giyuu looks at Sanemi and sees himself there, a kid in a strange situation that resorts to odd ways of getting through the week. So Giyuu tries not to think much of his observation.

“Kinda,” he mumbles, finally heading over to the register. Unloading his arms onto the counter, the cashier languidly scans each item, muttering the total. Giyuu spots a nearly empty energy drink beside him. Digging into his pocket, Giyuu pulls out the money he swiped this morning, presenting some of it to the cashier.

His purchases are bagged and he and Sanemi leave the store, the white haired boy quiet. Without another attempt at conversation, the two make it all the way to Giyuu’s home silently.

His house looks a bit better on the outside, but his lawn is still dead, there’s boards in one of the windows that’s been broken for as long as he can remember, and there’s trash piling up on the side of the house. A few beer cans litter the grass along the perimeter of the house, and Giyuu prays that his mother hasn’t spilled anymore alcohol into their already drenched carpets; the last thing he needs right now is Sanemi judging the smell of his house.

He doesn’t even bother to fish the key from his pocket as they walk up to the door, and it opens with a simple turn of the knob. Sanemi follows behind, leaving his shoes on when Giyuu doesn’t take his own off.

A welcoming party of one stands in front of the fridge door, staring at the bare contents, hand up his shirt scratching his chest. The man’s head turns as the door closes, and Giyuu recognizes him as the guy he stole the money from this morning. He looks confused for a moment, before realization dawns on his face and he provides something like a smile to the boys.

“Hey.”

Giyuu ignores him, pulling the yogurt from his plastic bag and sliding it into the fridge. Only then does he acknowledge the man.

“Don’t eat my yogurt.”

With that, Giyuu grips the bag and turns down the hallway, Sanemi eyeing the man still following them with his eyes.

Giyuu leads Sanemi into his room, closing the door after the white haired boy. Sanemi finds a spot on the edge of his bed as Giyuu drops his backpack and his grocery bag onto the floor.

“Was that your dad?” Sanemi questions. Giyuu shakes his head.

“I don’t know that guy.”

Giyuu doesn’t know what the look on Sanemi’s face is. It’s not anger, nor annoyance, or even disgust. It’s something entirely new and different and it’s making Giyuu’s stomach churn. But despite the unfamiliar expression on the other boy’s face, he grabs their math book, a notebook, and a pencil before taking the spot next to Sanemi on the bed. Clearing his throat, Giyuu finds Sanemi’s eyes.

“Ready?”

Sanemi grunts.

Chapter Text

Giyuu thinks that he’s made a friend. If you would consider silently sharing food during lunch and teaching him math in his free time being friends then yeah, Giyuu has finally made a friend. Which is odd, considering that his new friend is the same boy he thought was going to pummel him into the gravel outside on his first day.

It’s been a week and Giyuu can confidently say that Sanemi does not want to kill him. For now, that is. He almost wants to say that Sanemi even enjoys his company, if you can believe it. The white haired boy said that he’s the most tolerable person yesterday. The most tolerable! That’s huge! Fuck Shinobu and her stupid purple butterfly clips, he is likable. At least to someone.

And yeah, maybe that someone might be hated by the entire school by now. But Giyuu doesn’t care. He’ll take this as a win.

Speaking of the butterfly bitch, she’s standing in front of his desk currently, stirring him from his beautiful morning pre-class nap.

Blinking the sleep away from his eyes, Giyuu stares up at her, noting Sanemi’s tardiness by the empty seat next to him. Shinobu has a sweet smile on her face, the one that hides all of the evil and malintent she harbors in her very being, all her harsh emotions that keep her running. Giyuu can see right into her soul. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like him.

“Giyuu!” she exclaims in a sing-songy voice, and Giyuu knows that there are people watching if she’s still keeping the act up.

“Hey,” he mutters, picking at his nail bed.

“How’s it going?”

Sending her a confused look, Giyuu shrugs. “Okay.”

Shinobu beams, “that’s great! Anyways.”

Shinobu drops her formalities as quickly as she brings them up, heading straight into why she’s standing here at his desk before class.

“I’m coming to you as a concerned classmate and friend.”

Giyuu inwardly cringes at the use of the word ‘friend’.

“That new boy is…” Shinobu trails off, likely trying to find a more polite word to describe him, “interesting. And also bad news. I think you would do well to avoid him.”

Anger isn’t usually an emotion that Giyuu feels– or maybe one he doesn’t allow himself to feel very often. But there’s a familiar pang in his chest at her words, and his eyebrows are furrowing on their own, his lips twisting into a frown. He finally makes a friend, and she’s going to tell him off? As if she knows what’s good for him, the same girl who used to dump milk on his head in elementary school.

Maybe it’s the teenage hormones, maybe it’s the lonely emotions that he’s let build up since he gained consciousness, but Giyuu feels angry. Sanemi has only come into his life recently, and he honestly doesn’t even know much about the boy yet. But he already feels so protective, ready to defend him at any moment.

Giyuu opens his mouth to speak– probably to tell Shinobu to fuck off. But Sanemi, who apparently walked through the door a few moments ago, beats him to it.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Shinobu snaps her head to Sanemi, who’s standing next to their desk, arms crossed and eyes pointed at the girl. She still has a smile on her face, but Giyuu can see a vein popping on her forehead. 

“Just checking up on dear Giyuu,” she explains, glancing at the aforementioned boy before shuffling past a glaring Sanemi to return to her seat. Sanemi sits down, eyes following Shinobu’s movements before looking forwards at the board.

“Fucking freak,” Sanemi mumbles.

There’s still a lingering annoyance rooted in his bones, making his chest ache. However, his new friend’s comment just solidifies even more the weirdly fast moving feelings for him already growing like roots tangled in his ribcage. 

Giyuu chuckles. And Sanemi side eyes him as if Giyuu has just done something unheard of.

◇

Sanemi has been switched into his PE class. Giyuu is yet to find out if this is a good thing or not. All the bottled rage held within the confines of small, middle school boys come out during this time of day. Giyuu watches them all unravel day after day, while the girls huddle in a corner giggling over how well they play kickball. When in reality, they’re releasing years worth of pent up frustration they aren’t able to convey unless it’s through running their beat up shoes into a partially deflated ball of rubber and plastic, sending it hurling at some poor, unsuspecting kid's head.

Sanemi’s rage is more than Giyuu’s ever seen before, he’s a little scared to see what happens.

Emerging from the locker rooms dressed in an outfit just a bit too big for him, Giyuu feels Sanemi’s presence beside him as they walk towards the gym. Their coach is standing there, a man with fiery hair and grown out stubble. A tired, grumpy look sits on his face as he holds a clipboard in one hand, the other fiddling with the whistle hanging around his neck. Mr. Rengoku. A fitting choice for coaching a PE class. He has nearly as much rage as the rest of them. Giyuu predicts that he’s related to the boy in his English class, the one with similar fiery hair. Kyojuro he thinks his name is?

Mr. Rengoku blows his whistle, and Giyuu finally gives him his attention.

“Alright kids, we’re playing dodgeball today. Go make two teams.”

With a sigh, Giyuu pushes himself off the wall, following Sanemi to one side of the gym with half the class. Sanemi eyes the boys on the other side of the line, probably trying to size them up or something. Giyuu doesn’t pay much attention– he’s taking deep breaths and praying that they don’t all go for him like last time.

Balls are lined up on the middle line, and he watches as they eye them, stances ready to book it. Giyuu shuffles backwards as he watches their coach bring the whistle up to his mouth. When the shrieking of the whistle echoes through the gym, it’s chaos. Rubber shoes hit the glossy floor, making all sorts of unpleasant noises, married to shouts and name calling. Colors flash in his peripherals as people start running and jumping around, either trying to find a ball or not get hit by one. Giyuu is part of the latter.

Sanemi leaves his side, running faster than Giyuu anticipated and manages to grab the ball in the very middle, punting some shorter kid with it point blank. There’s a wide smile on his face as he does it, yelling something as the kid walks towards the side of the court. Sanemi rushes back towards Giyuu, where he skillfully catches a ball flying right at his face. He flips off the boy who threw it, moving his hand to follow his retreating figure.

Ok yeah. Sanemi is a fucking dodgeball beast. Noted.

Giyuu watches in elation as Sanemi absolutely annihilates the other team, all while he hides pathetically near the back where he feels the safest. He knows that it’s not cool, that he’ll probably get called a pussy again by one of the more popular guys on his team. Sorry he doesn’t feel like getting smacked in the face full force by a dirty rubber ball that collects the sweat of grubby middle schoolers.

Because he’s watching Sanemi, Giyuu doesn’t notice his teammate, Akaza– the one that usually calls him a pussy–, barrelling towards him, dodging balls left and right. Usually, Giyuu has the sense to get out of his way, seeing that the boy always assumes that people are going to move for him anyways, running into them if they don’t. 

It happens fast, Akaza’s body crashing into his, a force so strong it pushes him off balance, sending him to the floor where he slams his head harshly against the wooden paneling. A throbbing presents first in his side where Akaza collided with him, then in his head, accompanied by a loud ringing.

Unfortunately, the other team took this as a great opportunity to lay into the two with their dodgeballs. For a few seconds while Giyuu is trying to figure out what the hell just happened, there’s multiple impacts hitting the side of his face and his chest. Once the impacts have stopped, he blinks his eyes open, met with a pair of eyes filled with enough rage to fight god.

Akaza grabs him by the shirt, yanking him into a sitting position. Giyuu grunts, eyes wide as Akaza breathes into his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts, face just inches away. Giyuu tries to shove him off, but Akaza is in the boxing club, so of course he’s not going to beat him with raw strength.

“Get off,” Giyuu orders pathetically, praying to whatever god is listening that he leaves this gym with all his limbs intact. Akaza winds his fist back, bringing it down into the side of Giyuu’s face, where the taste of blood floods his mouth and his headache grows tenfold.

Giyuu closes his eyes, tensing and awaiting the next punch thrown his way. But before Akaza’s fist connects with his face again, he feels the weight leave his body, the hands clutching his shirt release, sending him back to the floor. Blinking, Giyuu shoots back up, watching in horror as Sanemi shoves Akaza to the ground, sending punch after punch to the guy’s face, pinning him down with his body weight.

“Sanemi,” Giyuu calls, but the second he tries to stand he’s hit with a wave of dizziness, keeping him seated onto the ground. Other kids have begun to crowd around them now, girls gasping and guys whipping out phones to record, chanting Sanemi’s name.

Eventually, Mr. Rengoku pushes his way through the crowd, grabbing Sanemi and yanking him off of Akaza’s now very bloody body.

“Jesus Christ!"

Sanemi pushes away their teacher's hands, wiping his bloodied knuckles onto his shirt, glancing over at Giyuu, who’s still stunned on the ground.

“All three of you, the principal’s office. Now.”

◇

Sitting quietly in one of the office chairs in front of the principal’s desk, Giyuu stares at the patterning in the carpet below him, fidgeting with the hem of his shorts. He’s sat between Sanemi and Akaza, who both also remain quiet, but continue to send each other glares from time to time. Giyuu glances up at the clock. They’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes.

Refuge comes in the form of the principal opening the door and walking in, taking a seat behind his desk. He eyes the three before him, taking a deep breath.

“You three are suspended.”

Giyuu’s jaw drops open.

“Uhm,” he mumbles, earning the attention of everyone in the room, “I didn’t even do anything.”

The principal frowns, leaning forward over his desk. A vein is present in his forehead, and Giyuu wonders distantly if he’s related to Shinobu.

“I stand by my decision. This is final. You can come back to class starting Monday of next week.”

Reaching for the phone on his desk, the principal begins dialing a number.

“I’ll be calling your parents to pick you up, go get changed.”

Submitting to his fate, Giyuu is the first to stand from his chair, turning to walk back to the gym. Akaza rises, then Sanemi, and the three quietly shuffle out of the office and back towards the locker rooms.

One of two things is going to happen when the principal calls his mother. One, she doesn’t pick up, even if he calls a second time. She’s either passed out on their couch or out with another guy, getting him to buy her all sorts of things. Two, she does answer, but she waves it off and tells the principal that he can just walk home. So he knows that both ways, he’ll be left to make it back on his own, like usual. It’ll mostly be like a normal day, except he’ll be walking home while the sun is higher in the sky, and there will probably be a neighbor asking him why he’s not in school today.

Walking into the locker room, he’s hit with the usual smell of body odor and lingering smoke from the kid that thinks this is the time and place to light up during the school day. To be fair, it’s not like Mr. Rengoku particularly cares. It does make Giyuu’s nose burn, though.

Standing in front of his locker, Giyuu unlocks the door, swinging it open. Pulling his shirt off, he quickly replaces it with his clean one. Glancing to his right, Akaza lazily throws his own shirt over his head, pulling it down and sticking his arms through. Glancing behind him is Sanemi, who’s pulling his own clothes from the locker. Giyuu gets a view of his back from here, littered with old, white scars that carve into his back, following the curves of his shoulder blades. None of them are red anymore, not new enough, meaning that he’s been carrying those for years. Giyuu blinks silently, slowly turning his head around to his locker. Something happened to his friend. Something bad.

Discarding his shorts, he pulls his pants on, balling up his sweaty and bloody clothes and shoving them deep into his backpack, making a mental note to wash them later. Closing and locking the door, he turns, seeing Sanemi leaning against his own locker, eyes set on Akaza, who’s spraying some sort of cologne on.

Walking up to his friend, Giyuu watches as Sanemi finally looks at him, and his face softens. Sanemi nods his head to the side, and the two are leaving the gym.

“Let’s just head home,” Sanemi suggests, and Giyuu sends him a questioning look.

“Shouldn’t we check back into the office first?”

Sanemi is silent for a second.

“No, let’s just go.”

They’re rounding the corner of the front of the school, heading towards the front gates when Sanemi stops in his tracks, leaving Giyuu even more confused. Following his friend’s gaze, he sees a woman standing there, talking to the principal. She’s unfamiliar, with a head of long, black hair pulled into a neat braid. She’s dressed in nice, blue jeans and a black blouse. A bag hangs from her shoulder, and when she spots the two boys her face is pulled into a concerned frown.

“See you later,” Sanemi mumbles. Before Giyuu can respond, his friend is leaving his side, joining the woman, who asks him if he’s okay, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Giyuu watches as Sanemi walks away with her, towards a nice, clean white car.

Confusion is the first thing Giyuu is greeted with as he watches them pull out of the parking lot and out into the street. Was that his mother? They look nothing alike, and surely a sweet looking lady like that couldn’t have raised such an aggro, conflict oriented son, right?

Giyuu allows his mind to wander as he starts walking home, kicking every rock that has the misfortune of sitting in his way.

It was also odd the way he completely let go, held back any sort of fight or disdain for his plans being interrupted, and made no sudden movements when the woman touched him. There’s something there, like a soft spot or something like respect– maybe even fear? No, he didn’t seem scared, almost resigned, as if he were being commanded to obey by some unforeseen force.

Giyuu shakes his head. He’s overthinking again.

He makes it home without any more hypotheses about Sanemi and his mysterious homelife. He walks through the door, releases a sigh when he realizes he’s home alone. Wandering to the washer, he pulls the dirty clothes from his bag, shaking them out so that they don’t clump up.

Draped over his hands is his bloody shirt, stained with crimson red and dirtied with patches of black from the asphalt. Small pebbles of it fall from the cloth as he flexes the material. Surely the shirt– and him– would be in worse condition if it weren’t for Sanemi. For the first time in all the universe, someone showed just a bit of protection over him, allowed themselves the prospect of being hurt and the reality of getting suspended from a school they just started.

Giyuu hugs the shirt to his chest, staring blankly at the washing machine. He holds this position for a few moments before tossing the shirt and the shorts in, slamming the door shut. Retreating to his bedroom, he allows the light feeling in his chest to marinate, going so far as to peek open his blinds to let the room flood with light, matching himself.

Chapter Text

For most kids, suspension might be great, wondrous even, Giyuu thinks. Sitting at home, eating snacks and playing video games or going to the mall to do stupid shit and spend their parents money. Giyuu rebrands it in his mind as Hell.

The guy who ate his yogurt is back, and he’s glued to their couch with his mother, watching some cheesy reality TV show that doesn’t really make sense to him, filled with dramatic music and people who have too much money to know what to do with. The occasional laugh echoes down the hall and into his room, where he’s spent the past hour trying to block out the noises.

Once a particularly loud cough reaches his ears, he’s decided he’s had enough. Standing from his bed, Giyuu clutches his phone and slips on his shoes, swiftly exiting his room. Speed walking down the hall, he avoids looking into the living room as he passes, making a beeline for the front door. Distantly he hears his mother say something, along with his name, but he’s already closing the door and racing down the steps so fast that he does not stop. The first breath he breathes when he gets outside is heavenly. He feels his lungs expand in his chest, and can distantly smell flowers growing wild in untamed yards.

A darkness previously floating above his head dissipates just slightly, and he feels more alive. Taking a moment to stand in his front yard, he wonders what the hell he’s going to do now that he’s outside. It’s not like there’s a friend's house he can visit or money to spend.

Walking onto the sidewalk, Giyuu kicks a rock, sending it off and watching where it inevitably stops. It heads towards his right. Turning, he heads down the right sidewalk, hands in his pockets and eyes pointed at the ground. Once he reaches the end of the block, he takes another right, heading in a direction he’s never been before. Distantly, he wonders what would happen if he gets lost. A part of him doesn’t really care, another part reminds him he has google maps on his phone and his address memorized.

It’s midday, and the sun is high in the sky, looming over buildings and warming Giyuu’s skin. A chilled breeze passes over him, a reminder that winter is not too far away and soon there will be rain falling from the clouds and wetting the ground, making the air humid and the walk to school even shittier than before.

Giyuu likes the rain, yeah, but only when he’s locked himself in his room and he has his phone open to some dumb video, with a bag of salty chips at his side and a blanket wrapped around his body. It’s comfortable, and the sound of the rain against the roof of the house is enough to lull him to sleep, to allow him reprieve from the nights he spends restless and turning over in his bed like a gas station hotdog in one of those roller things.

But right now the sun feels nice, and the wind is gentle on his face, and it’s enough to soothe him, to remind him that there are good things in the world.

Taking random turns through his neighborhood and eyeing random houses with odd yard decorations, Giyuu looks up to find himself in front of a playground. It’s mostly empty, with the exception of a few kids climbing the play structures and parents littered around the perimeter. He didn’t know there was a playground so close to his house. Not that his mother ever took him places like this.

Giyuu is about to turn away and keep walking when there’s a small child barreling into his legs, almost sending him off balance and to the ground. The kid falls backwards, letting out a small grunt, and Giyuu panics. Kneeling down, he scans the kid for injuries, silently hoping he doesn’t start crying.

And surprisingly, the kid just laughs, despite the scrape on his knee and the blood trickling down his leg.

“Sorry! I was playing tag with my brother.”

Giyuu finally gets a good look at the kid. He can’t be older than ten, and he has black hair with shaved sides, leaving a messy mullet on the top of his head. There’s a scar that runs along the side of face just beneath his eye, and something about him reminds him of a certain someone.

“Hey.”

Giyuu looks up, and there he is. Sanemi, looming over the two. At first Giyuu thinks he’s angry, like he normally is, but when Sanemi gets a look at Genya’s scraped knee, worry furrows his eyebrows and has him kneeling down, grabbing his younger brother’s leg.

“Genya, are you okay?”

It’s weird, seeing Sanemi looking so… soft? There’s a worried frown on his face, and any hint of anger that usually resides within him seems to vanish almost instantly when he talks to his brother. His voice is quieter, calmer, almost soothing, and it catches Giyuu off guard.

Genya nods and smiles, standing up.

“I’m fine! I’m gonna go climb the rock wall!”

Without another word, Genya races off towards the rock wall, where he flies across the stones like a monkey. Giyuu is speechless as Sanemi finds his eyes again.

“Sorry about that.”

His voice is back to normal, now, and his expression has considerably hardened now that his brother is gone.

“That’s okay,” Giyuu offers a small smile, “so that’s your brother?”

Sanemi nods and stands back up, Giyuu following. Silence envelopes the two, and Giyuu shifts his weight between his feet.

“So, uh, did your mom bring you?”

Sanemi’s permanent frown deepens. Shit, Giyuu picked the wrong dialogue option again.

“That’s not our mom,” Sanemi states, refusing to look back at Giyuu, “and no. I brought him here.”

Giyuu nods, throat feeling dry. He tries swallowing, but ends up almost choking on his own saliva in the process. Clearing his throat to prevent the coughing fit coming on, he nods again.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

Sanemi shrugs. “It’s whatever.”

He wants to ask, wants to know who the woman is, who she is to them. But Giyuu doesn’t press, and instead makes the wise decision to keep his mouth shut regarding the topic to prevent further digging his own grave. Sanemi may have defended him, saved him even, but the white haired boy still scares him to a degree.

“Hey, uh,” Giyuu starts, fiddling with his fingers, “I wanted to say thank you.”

Sanemi eyes him, and Giyuu swallows again. He’s never been one to be good with his words. Writing is his worst subject in school by far. Math is logical, structured. Writing is based on your feelings and creativity. He doesn’t excel in either of those.

“For, y’know, yesterday and everything. No one’s ever really done something like that for me before. So it was pretty cool, and I wanted to thank you. And– yeah.”

Sanemi looks at him. But this time he really looks at him. Nothing like the short glances he gives the black haired boy when they’re sitting together at lunch, or the confused looks when they’re in a tutoring session. No distant stares where Giyuu can tell there’s something going on in his mind and he’s not paying attention to anything going on around him. Sanemi looks him in the eyes, holds it for a moment before shrugging again and looking back towards his brother.

“We’re friends.”

The words hit Giyuu like a freight train. Friends, like actual friends? God, he is such a fucking loser. Someone tells him they’re friends and he can barely breathe, feels like his chest is going to cave in and he’s going to explode from all the light shining in his ribcage and brimming around his heart.

“Yeah,” is all Giyuu manages to say.

More silence, and Giyuu plays with the hem of his shirt, watching with Sanemi as Genya runs around the park, nearly falling off the monkey bars and eating shit several times. The blood on his leg has dried, and he’s still acting like it’s not there, that there's not a large scrape on his knee that’s probably burning more with each step. The kid is a trooper.

“I’m coming over tomorrow,” Sanemi states, and Giyuu nods, “to study.”

Mentally, Giyuu hopes his mother will be out tomorrow, or at the very least there’s not another man in the house. So far, he’s been lucky, and Sanemi is yet to see any of the men his mother brings over, besides the first time he visited his house. He can only hope he keeps the lucky streak.

◇

His lucky streak has ended.

Sanemi shows up to his house at seven pm, explaining, quite angrily, that he couldn’t leave until after dinner given that he’s suspended. Giyuu shrugs it off, letting him in and not saying anything about sitting in his room chewing nervously on his nails while each hour ticked by, a new man he didn’t know sitting in his living room with his mother. Sanemi would see them, and he’d think things, and he’d be judged for the weird shit that happens in this house. Giyuu knows it.

Once Sanemi steps in, Giyuu quickly leads him to his room, trying to ignore the scene of his mother and the guy making out on their couch. He hopes Sanemi doesn’t look either, Giyuu is too scared to check.

Sanemi sits on his bed like usual, and Giyuu pulls out his notebook along with two pencils. Everything goes well, Sanemi curses under his breath when they practice math problems, and falls back onto the bed when he needs a break. Giyuu brings him a capri sun he got recently from the store and he himself downs a yogurt before they start again. For a few minutes at eight, they watch a stupid YouTube video on his recommended from Mega64 and Sanemi actually laughs. Giyuu feels like he’s won.

That is, until music starts playing in his mothers room, muffled just barely by their thin, worn walls. It’s immediate that Giyuu’s heart drops, and he freezes in his spot. Eyes darting between Sanemi and his door, he takes a shaky breath as he tries to think of a way to get them both out of the house before it starts.

But Sanemi is staring at a math problem that he’s so close to finishing, and Giyuu is having trouble creating any sort of excuse that would be appropriate to interrupt his friend.

That’s when Giyuu realizes his luck has run out.

Sanemi’s pencil stops moving across the paper as soon as the banging starts, the sound of his mothers bed hitting the other side of their shared wall. Sanemi looks up, finding Giyuu’s widened eyes and horrified gaze. They stare at each other for a few moments, silence brewing between the two as each bang of the bed upon the wall gets louder, and a feminine voice is calling out an unfamiliar name. 

Giyuu feels like he’s going to explode. There’s sweat already clinging to his skin and his face feels warm, too warm. Adrenaline runs through his veins, making his fingers tremble. God, Sanemi is going to never speak to him again, he’s going to be alone at lunch, forced to be on limited talking terms with the other boy, and he’s going to lose his only friend.

Sanemi throws his head back and starts laughing. Giyuu feels like he’s going to throw up. But the sound has snapped him out of his trance, and he quickly reaches for his school supplies, shoving them back into his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Let’s go,” Giyuu orders, louder than he intended, and swiftly turns to walk out the door. Snickering to himself, Sanemi follows him outside, where Giyuu plops himself down on the curb just in front of the house. Sanemi takes the spot next to him, and Giyuu takes a deep, shaky breath.

Sanemi was laughing, but now he’s completely silent. Giyuu imagines it’s because his head is now buried in his arms, which rest upon his knees. He doesn’t know whether he wants to yell, cry, or just tell Sanemi to go home and wander aimlessly around the neighborhood until he thinks they’re done.

God, this is so fucking embarrassing. He’s been trying so hard, despite his awkwardness, to be cool and prove to Sanemi that being friends with him isn’t insanely weird, that he’s at least somewhat normal.

No one has ever been in his house before when it happens, it’s always just been him. And Giyuu is extremely irritated that his mother had to go and do that while his friend was there. He’ll be up every night for the next twenty years thinking about this.

When he peeks up over his arms, Sanemi is ripping a weed in half, causing destruction on the nearby plants. He wonders why he hasn’t left yet.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice brings Sanemi’s gaze back over to him. Sanemi shakes his head just slightly.

“It’s fine, shit happens.”

Giyuu nods, falling silent again. What the fuck is he supposed to do now? Just sit here silently until Sanemi decides to get up and go home? He brought his backpack with his school supplies, but he doubts there will be any more studying happening.

He’s still beating himself up about it, silently of course, and is trying to think of literally anything he could say to make this less awkward and not anymore embarrassing than it already is. But again, he’s never really been good with words, never really talked to anyone this much until Sanemi nose dived into his life. Giyuu isn’t sure what to say.

Sanemi clears his throat. Giyuu takes his eyes off the pavement. Looking at Sanemi, he notices the way he shifts uncomfortably where he sits, watches him take a deep breath and unclench his jaw, unwinding his shoulders.

“My dad would do stuff like that too,” he starts, speaking with venom in his voice, “bring home women and ignore us. So, I get it. It’s fine.”

Giyuu nods, returning his gaze to the pavement. A part of him is relieved– not that Sanemi has gone through issues of the sort, but that someone can understand how he feels, that his new friend isn’t going to drop him because of his shitty family.

“Do you wanna go get ice cream? I swiped some money from the other guy’s wallet.”

Sanemi’s lips curve up into a wicked smile, and he claps a hand on Giyuu’s back.

“Hell yeah, let’s go.”