"Hunter? Honey, come inside... jeez, who were you even talking to? You're all messy... haha, say 'Hello' to Father Smith."

Her voice was faint, and it flickered in the depths of my memory. Claire. There was light in the darkness, small drops of proverbial pure sun disturbing the dense pool of black, all of it tethering me closer to the distant memory. His hand was ruffling through my brunette hair. He felt like a giant compared to my size back then.

"Hello there, son. Your mother was sweet enough to have me for company. I hear you're quite the rough n' tumble type, Hunter."

More light. It was so bright. From the center point at the priest's roman collar, he seemed to emit radiance that had me squinting, unsure. The memory was coming into focus, but much clearer than I'd ever remembered it before. For instance, I remembered Father Smith, his big smiles, and the frequency of his visits. I didn't, however, remember what it is we actually talked about. This was the first time he'd come over.

I was shy to strangers back then, but I was even more adamant on being very straight forward and honest.

"She's not my mother." My small fingers reached up to pat her shoulders protectively, idly running my hands over both sides of her neck. Her skin had always felt so soft, I'd always found the curve of her jawline to be comforting to run my fingers over. She didn't mind being on the receiving end of the affectionate touches. "Her name is Claire. My real Mom is dead."

You could call it honest and straightforward. As patient as the foster mother and priest were, they probably thought I was bratty. The priest was disarmed, as if my answer had been a delightful surprise. "This woman's name is Claire, that's very true. And she may not be the mother who birthed you, but she was handpicked from a lot of capable women to take special care of you. Like a mother. She does take very good care of you, doesn't she?"

My eyes were on hers, catching the brightness of affection through her tender, loving smile. "Yes," I mumbled without much hesitation, earning a small laugh and a kiss on the cheek from her.

"Well, your mo - - Claire asked me at church to come pay a visit. She says you've been a li - - ttle playful in your sleep." He pulled me on his lap easily. I was only seven at the time, able to fit in most laps. My hands kept to themselves, bunching up the lower portion of my shirt as I looked to him worriedly. "Am I in trouble?" I asked, looking worriedly to my foster mother, who'd been noticeably more restless this last month. The man smiled as I looked up to him, his large hands on my shoulder as he shook his head 'no'. "Not at all Hunter. You've done nothing wrong. Many people walk in their sleep and do odd things. When I was training to be a priest in the seminary, a roommate used to take all his socks and put them in the sink." The notion of a grown man dumping his clothes in the sink was a very silly idea to me, and I laughed at the time. "And you, Hunter, have been doing some... odd things too. Do you remember them?"

My boyishly round face tilted in concentration, before I was heaving a sigh and shaking my head in defeat. "Nope... Claire says I walk around. I throw things. And say some stuff." Undoubtedly the woman had already filled him in on the details, about the missing holy relics, the bibles with hundreds of pages all meticulously torn, finding me outside with blood soaking my pajamas, no wounds but nonetheless caked in bright red, fresh blood.

"But, I have dreams." I all but bounced on his leg, drawing closer, slight excitement betraying my shyness as I endeavored to explain these dreams. "Sometimes, I'm a doctor! And I help other kids, just like me. Toby's... there to help too. He keeps watch." The mention of Toby had Claire visibly tensing, though she was behind me and only Father Smith could see the reaction. His smile was steadfast and directed toward me. "Toby sounds like a fine friend. Tell me, what does he do in the dreams?"

It was rare that I was ever asked a question about Toby from anyone other than Claire, so I was still getting used to the attention. Now that Toby was involved, it seemed my enthusiasm dwindled into reluctance. "We give them hugs and play with them when they're lonely... sometimes Toby gets too excited and we have to put more band-aids on." The priest's smile softened, and his mind was on other things, not on Toby. He was thinking about the bags under my eyes from sleep deprivation, not the few times I timidly looked over the older man's shoulder, even though there was no one but the opened screen door to the backyard. No one they could see. A hand landed on my shoulder, softly squeezing. "Hunter, what about the other kids? The ones that don't need band-aids?" she guided calmly, directing my childish prattle. I seemed to grow uncomfortable, looking downward before lifting my head a little to watch the priest. "Sometimes, the owies are on the inside... where we can't put band-aids," I tried to elaborate, earning a small pause and a quiet, less excited, "Oh... is that so?"

"Mhm." I nodded my head softly, and with another pressing look from my mother I was explaining, "Toby... has to find the owie, to make it better. So... we rip off the skin."

His smile was gone now, the gears in the priest's head stopping completely. "Sometimes... all of it. Toby says it helps them... and it works. They stop crying." I looked down in my lap, playing somberly with my fingers as the Father processed this, his eyes studying my frightened features. "They stop crying. They stop moving. Toby - - " I froze suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. My mother sensed it, asking in my ear so softly what was wrong that I hurriedly started shaking my head 'no'. "Hunter? What has you so distressed?" his voice might've been calming to any other child who hadn't known the fear of demons and nightmares. When I lifted my face and leaned forward, drifting closer to his ear, it wasn't me I was worried about.

"Toby says you have an owie on the inside."

I pulled back shakily and slid from his arms and off his lap, pressing myself into the woman that'd tried so hard to create a safe environment for me. "Can I just go outside and play?" I huffed sadly as if resigning myself, wiping tears into her shirt. She nodded and stroked my hair, releasing me to run out of the screen door.

The two adults looked at each other, Claire even more frightened because Smith looked as unsure as she did. She cupped her hand over her mouth in a sob and protective instincts set in, the priest hugging her close. "Such frightening things out of a child's mouth. But he is a child simply needing guidance and comfort." Father Smith graduated from a north eastern medical school and still worked as a child psychiatrist while he kept up his priestly duties. "Dreams, no matter how violent, are most likely meaningless. Our fault is that we search so badly for meaning that we forget how inconsequential these dreams are. Simply put, it's all how we react to these things. And Toby... well, he is most likely an imaginary friend that will leave with time."

The woman immediately rejected the notion, adamantly shaking her head. "Father... the dreams, Toby, finding him outside at all hours of the night covered in blood - - all of it, there's nothing meaningless about them. Please... come with me." She walked out of the house and into the backyard, stopping a small moment just to smile my way as I played with a favorite dump truck loaded with rocks. She ushered the priest a few yards away, toward the tool shed primarily used by my foster father. "We keep this locked..." She opened the door and slipped inside, Smith closing it behind them as she crouched down and pulled out what seemed to be blue tarp rolled up, elastic cords binding it into a singular, folded shape. She brought it up to the work table, donning gardening gloves before she started unwrapping it. "I wanted to throw them away. But I need you to see these and give me your professional opinion."

"Well, you didn't call me over because I'm a priest," Father Smith jested, since he'd thought she called him over purely for psychological evaluation.

She calmly shook her head, claiming that, "I need a priest now more than ever."

He stepped forward, looking over her shoulder. The stench of decay caught him by surprise and his hand smacked over his nose and mouth, fighting the urge to curse and vomit in the same moment. "God Almighty," he rasped, eyes glued to the grotesquely frozen bodies of red, mottled flesh, unsure as to what exactly he was seeing.

"It's mostly squirrels. One time a cat, and another time a rabbit. Rabbits aren't even indigenous to this area but leave it to Hunter to get his hands on one." Claire seemed so... flat. The fear was there, but the defense mechanism already kicked in to attempt to soften the blow. Reality was, at this point, incomprehensible. Before them laid three squirrels, average in size with bloodied, deteriorating muscle and tissue, small tufts of fur here and there indicating that this was no clean job with a knife or professional hands. This had been quick work, desperate and unskilled, organs perforating through ripped open skin, a testimony of the rabid method by which these animals were tortured.

One of the stiff corpses had its small mouth stretched wide, and what looked like three rectangular sides of a cross protruded from its mouth. "The bigger cross we had was inside the stray cat I found - - it's neck was broken, throat and jaw dislodged... I couldn't see the cross but I could feel it, in the stomach." She gently relieved the rodent of its burden, pulling the wooden cross from its undoubtedly lacerated throat and bowels, showing the priest plainly what'd she'd found in this creature. The next squirrel hadn't had anything as drastic as a cross, but a bit of white peaking from its dried, shriveled mouth. "He leaves them outside, under the house's crawl space, in the vegetable garden. I find different numbers of them each time - - one day I find one, the next three. The most I'd ever found in one day is ten. Ten." Claire stretched the jaw of the creature wide until it accidentally snapped open and loose, and startled a squeak out of her, and for the first time the priest noticed she'd been trembling. Her fingers plucked out what looked like bloodied scraps of paper, flattening them out with her fingers against the tarp to reveal fine print. "These are... from the family bible." It seemed as if she hadn't taken the torn, balled up pages from the creature till now, having waited for him as if scared to discover on her own what her child had done in his sleep.

"The missing relics... torn pages from your bible, what you've said was missing from your home. And what of the third?" Father Smith's hand had since left his face, putting on as brave a front as he could for her.

She shook her head, not in refusal but in confusion. "See... this is what I don't get... these little green guys, they're not from any of the trees in our yard." What Claire pulled out from the third squirrel's mouth were small, green orbs akin to underdeveloped fruit, plucked from their stems. The Priest's eyes widened, "They seem to be unripened cherries... but there's not a cherry tree for miles."

"Three miles, to and from Mr. Longwalk's orchard. Not to mention the climbing these trees in the dark, then make it back in time to catch these things and skin them?" She reasoned in disbelief, raising the priest's own doubt.

"You think a child - - a sleep walking child - - is really capable of all that?" He asked Claire, as her face filled with acute certainty.

"Not on his own."

Sudden loud knocks shook the entirety of the shed from the outside, the force of the fists behind them banging loudly, rattling the whole shed until it felt like it might fall apart. From the power behind those blows, those fists had to belong to a very strong, large adult. Claire dropped the deceased squirrel onto the tarp in her fright, the two inhabitants making eye contact, before the knocking ceased. "Mom? Are you and Father Smith still in there?" It was my voice, muffled and soft from the shed's walls in between. Claire sighed in relief and corrected me, "Yes sweety, we are... calling me Mom now? Who are you and what have you done with my child, haha!" she laughed, relieved as she started rolling up the squirrels back into the tarp, ready to discard them in the trash. There were light footsteps outside the shed and my voice sounded again, this time from directly in front of the shed's door. "What are you talking about?" I chirped from behind the door, just as Father Smith started turning the knob, letting the door swing open. "Your mother and I were just discussing the neighborhood - -"

His hand had dropped from the handle, letting the door swing as Claire's back was turned, before she readjusted the tarp bundle and looked over Smith's shoulders, seeing what the hold up was. A large pile of underdeveloped cherries crunched underneath his feet as he staggered forward. A thick ring of the green cherries now scattered and surrounded the shed. I was waving down at them from the upstairs window, having gone inside minutes before.

Conveniently, I don't remember any of these weird happenings. I don't remember Toby either. More than likely, it was because my mother was so good at hiding things from me and her worry along with it. My foster father at the time was a workaholic and busied himself so much that he practically lived at the company. So, Claire would wake up at different hours of the night to check on me, and the instances of her finding me outside caked in blood became fewer and fewer, until it stopped. During that time, she'd tried everything: locks on the doors and windows, sleeping out into the hallway, she even set up a camera at one point. But I'd still slipped out somehow, and whatever footage she captured was corrupted. All those nights with her shaking me awake, then guiding me back inside the house to wash off felt too unreal to be anything other than a dream.

I do remember Father Smith, however. I'd known him for the three years I had lived with Claire and her husband. He'd visit often to 'check on my Mom' so he said, but I knew he was there to visit me. I got along with classmates averagely, and I had Claire with me, but Father Smith was my favorite. He was always wearing a handsome smile and helping others - - even I had been roped into the many service projects he commenced around town. He might as well have been my Dad, for how much of an influence he had those three years. It's safe to say that he was my first crush.

"So, no sleep walking and no dreams. Seems a vast improvement from when I first met you." We sat near each other on the couch while my mother was out getting groceries. He'd asked me to read from one of my favorite books, but we always got sidetracked from the topic of school to the topic of what it was like being a priest. "I think I wanna be a priest like you, Gary." I'd heard his first name once and I hadn't been able to call him by anything else, no matter how my mother tried to convince me of his proper title. A deep, warm laugh rumbled out of the man and he shook his head, patting my shoulder with his large, warm hands. "Ohh? But I think you'll be a fine doctor, Hunter." I shook my head and tried explaining the reason, his hand comfortingly rubbing up and down my back. "Well, Claire says it might be a good idea to think about other stuff too." Father Smith surmised it was because of the sociopathic tendencies, the dreams and the skinned animals she'd found but never once brought to my attention. I fiddled with the pages of my book and meticulously fit the bookmark to the inside of the spine before closing it and looking up at him. "Besides, I wanna be with you when I grow up. We're gonna be friends for a long time, right?" I'd asked him with a small, sheepish smile, earning a wider grin out of him as he gave my back a few swats. "Of course we'll always be the best of friends! Here, before your Mom gets back - - let's get in a few rounds of hide and seek."

I neatly placed my book on the coffee table before us before tumbling off of the couch, hurrying as he counted aloud. Outside was off limits, but there were plenty of places to hide inside. This time I chose my foster parents' closet, a large space with double doors and blinds that gave you perfect vision from the inside, but it was hard to see into from the outside. I'd yet to hide there before and thought I could fool him with it, peeking from the crack in the doors as I listened to him march up the stairs after what seemed like five minutes. I giggled faintly, and with a start he slammed the door open, hoping to scare a scream out of me. My heart was thumping like crazy but I was still, watching him conjecture out loud as to where I was, entertaining me as he looked. He neared the bed and got on his knees, lifting the covers from the bed to see underneath. "Ah-hah! There you are, my boy," he bellowed with great mirth, extending his arms out underneath the bed. I thought he'd been joking and I quickly had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling. As he reached back, a brunette head of hair came from underneath the bed, small arms pulled along by the priest's gentle grip. The boy came out from underneath the bed with a wide grin and received a series of tickles from the older man.

"Gary! I wanna show you something," it said with my voice, quickly standing and tugging over the aging priest by the wrist. The man laughed, undaunted by the eeriness that came with my doppleganger, the way his free hand hung limp, how this boy's face tilted ever too steeply, almost to the point of breaking his own neck. "Very well! Where are we headed, Captain?" the priest barked with a salute. The boy giggled and straightened his form but spoke no more about the subject as he led Father Smith out of the room. Petrified as I listened to them leave the house, I continually looked down at myself to make sure I was still present. This was another memory that would escape me, blurring the lines between dream and reality.

Claire arrived home hours later to find me alone and confused. A day later, they found Father Smith's body.

He'd been skinned from head to toe, five miles deep in the forest from where our house was. Naturally Claire and I were the last people to have seen him, which even landed my mother on the list of few suspects. Claire grew distant, anxious. She never told the police about the dead creatures that shared the same fate as Father Smith. She never brought it up to me, or asked me about what I'd seen the day he disappeared. And then, two weeks after we found him, she'd found her reason to put me back into the foster program.

"Toby says... you're next."

The bulk of my childhood memories started at age ten with my new family. The parents especially were devout Catholics. The father was strict but compassionate. The mother blindly and submissively followed her husband's judgement as if it were the law of the land. I had an older 'brother' who was also in the foster program, and a younger sister that the couple had actually been able to conceive on their own. My older brother, Daniel, was the type to break every one of our father's rules; he couldn't wait to be eighteen and be a free adult. He rebelled in every which way, but still found time to be a fun older brother for me. My younger sister, Chrissie, was the type to rat Daniel out every chance she got just to earn the favor of her father. So, it wasn't surprising that Daniel held a bit of contention for her and shit in her cat's litterbox more than once. Amidst all this ruckus, I managed to stay out of my foster parents' radar. I sleep walked on the rare occasion, but nothing as drastic as before had taken place. My faith was developing, and my new father gave me a special prayer in Latin just for me. I was the ideal son.

Well, that was until I started discovering how vastly I preferred guys over girls. Entirely, in fact.

As my body grew, so did my feelings for the same sex. And there was no way in Hell I could've told my court appointed parents; I loved them, but I wasn't stupid. I was already eighteen when I officially came out to my brother, and I remembered how he cackled.

"That's just perfect. God would I give anything to see the look on that asshole's face when he finds out." Asshole was a generous endearment for the wide range of colorful vernacular, denoting our Dad, considering how much Daniel hated him. I must've looked anxious at the idea of our Dad finding out, so he calmed me with a quick nod, "If he finds out. He won't find out from me, which means Chrissie'll give it away if she can. But seriously, it's an honor. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" With his hand on my shoulder I felt reassured, tipping over to rest my head on his lap. His hand quickly began running through my hair. This had been the umpteenth visit through my window - - Daniel had been released from the prison of high school quite a few years ago and chose a life of labor over furthering his education. He still visited since we'd grown close, he'd talk about his latest venture, I'd talk about school. We'd have weird dream contests, and he'd always win.

I furrowed my brows thoughtfully, eyes closed as I wondered aloud, quietly, "I just don't know what I'm going to do. College's already so expensive and I don't think I can move out yet. Don't think I can afford getting kicked out either. Sometimes I just get so..." I tried gesturing with my hands, expressing the turmoil with exaggerated movements.

"Pent up?" supplied Daniel. I blushed. He shifted on the bed and something slipped from his pocket and fell between the wall and the bed, thudding loud on the wooden floor. He shrugged his shoulders when I started moving to retrieve it. "'s just my phone, probably. Don't worry about it, I'll pick it up later." I nodded, ceasing my efforts to get it back, returning to the previous conversation.

My hands plopped in my lap and I sat up, legs crossed over my bed, still clad in pajamas. "I haven't even been with a guy yet... and even if there was someone, I have nowhere to take him." I leaned back, supporting myself on my hands, my eyebrows waggling teasingly. "Want a ride on my bicycle? You can join me for Scripture tonight at my place; we're reading Psalms. Pretty exciting stuff!" Yeah, definitely wasn't going to catch anyone with that.

Danny laughed and shook his head, eyes seeming to evaluate my face. "Alright - - I'll help you out. With finding a place and getting you laid, I mean." And once my brother put his mind to something, he was relentless. He teased my hair, just as the door slammed open.

"Out!" My foster father grunted, meeting Daniel's quick glare. Chrissie was standing behind her father, half hiding from the doorway with a triumphant smirk that seemed to impede the sweetness of her face. I huffed and slumped back on the bed, Daniel making to climb out of the window. The older man wiped his hand tiredly over his face. "No, out the door." There was another glare and he was climbing off my bed and toward the hallway. "You should call your mother once in awhile, she worries," my foster father added idly, still gruff and stern, Daniel rolling his eyes. "Yeah yeah. Hey, Hunter, what we talked about earlier... I'll figure it out. See ya, bud. I'll text you." He stopped in the hallway, staring at Chrissie, before surging toward her and terrifying her with loud, feral sounding barks, until his father slapped him upside the head.

During the course of a few weeks, he'd text me occasionally with a few job openings that suited me, and a few apartments and dorms to check out. I applied for the jobs, checked out the places, but so far hadn't made any progress. At the end of the week, just when I'd been stressing about everything, he sent me a lifeline: party at this address. you'll be crossing out at least one of your problems tonight. ;)

God, I hoped so.

Maybe the current choice of outfit wasn't ideal, however. I looked like a toddler that'd just come from Sunday school, wearing a long sleeved dress shirt, a sweater vest on top, tan corduroys below. The only non-assholish things I wore were the Vans, with a pattern of sliced pieces of pepperoni pizza and a galaxy backdrop. Priorities. I found myself stuck on a couch, sitting next to a girl and hopefully her boyfriend making out on the couch. People were dancing, touching, talking. This was like a scene out of Caligula compared to the childish school dances I'd gone stag to with friends. I held my red solo cup in both hands, nervously peering up at the passerby once I braved it up from looking at my shoes. I didn't belong in a place like this. Where was Daniel? At least everyone seemed to be around my age, I even recognized a few faces from College, and some politely acknowledged me with a smile. I smiled back.

After five minutes I'd made up my mind to get up and leave. The party had grown even more congested now, and it was harder timing it exactly right when I could make room for me. I saw a gap between people and took it hurriedly, slamming face first into a broad back.

"Umpff! Sorry," I groaned apologetically, looking up to see the handsome face above look over his shoulder at me. His face softened, a kind smile on his face. "Oh! No problem." From the uncanny pronunciation of an 'L' into an 'R' and the sweet almond shape of his eyes, I deduced he was foreign. Or messing with me. He looked way too sweet for that. I realized I'd braced myself on his back, removing my hands with another wince. He couldn't exactly move, but he watched me as much as able. "I'm, uhh - - just trying to get out of here, actually." I could feel someone leaning against me from behind, probably in the same situation. The boy in front of me didn't seem to bothered by my closeness, which flattered me. There was an awkward silence where we just smiled, and I spoke up again. "I don't wanna die here."

We ended up pushing our way out of the crowd and made a game out of it, the two of us gasping in the fresh air once we'd staggered outside. "Haha. Oh, 'm Hunter Rey. Thanks for the help." I held out my hand, and he took mine for a gentle shake, beaming down at me. "Fujioka, Ryotaro. Here, they call me Ryo." The words he spoke were short as if he were rushing, but I liked the way it sounded in his deep voice. I remembered staring up at his face, seeing the kind arch of his eyebrows, the way his grin betrayed the gladness he felt to be rid of that party.

"It's noisy in there," I mumbled, averting my eyes from his. No shit Sherlock. I tried to save myself with a short laugh, Fuji taking only a second to absorb it, before nodding in agreement. He was too hot, I'd never really talked to a cute guy at a party like this, and I was short circuiting. He continued to look at me, then his gaze veered off to the side of me. Shit, shit, stop this failure from happening - -

"Do you... want... to get something to drink?" The way he spoke now was deliberate, slow. I noticed more of his accent, wondering if it'd be rude to ask. Wait, he just asked me for a drink! I realized I'd lost mine somewhere along the way, but with a pat of my clothes I confirmed that at least I was dry. I still hadn't answered, which had me looking up quickly at him. "I'm not, uhh, legal yet. For drinking, I mean. I'm legal for sex." Whatthefuck!

He laughed as if it were a joke, and my shoulders sagged with relief, glad I hadn't weirded him out. "My apartment. I have drinks - - no alcohol. No crowd." I had to keep my face straight, resist the urge to break out into a victory dance, and smile my way through the car ride back to his place. He's just being nice, this doesn't mean anything.

I should've given myself more credit.

It was a two bedroom one bath, with a sizable living room and a kitchenette. "You have a roommate?" I whispered mindfully as we walked in and he locked up behind us. He shook his head 'no'. "I am looking for one." The dark haired male started digging around in the kitchen, starting up coffee. I didn't really get why we were having coffee in the middle of the night, but I stood politely with my hands folded in front of me, looking around with a simple smile until he handed me a cup, and we were sitting on his couch. He spoke about the exchange program from Japan, how long he'd been living here and planned further still to live here until his eventual move back to Japan after the expiration on his visa. He asked me about the medical program I was enrolled in, what family life was like, and I got to talking about Daniel. The both of us were laughing hard at one story in particular, his laughter shaking his shoulders, dusting pink over his cheeks. He was gorgeous, and I couldn't help but be glad that I could make him laugh.

"So, it was your brother that sent you to me," he thought aloud, before he noticed my expression filled with half embarrassment and the other pleasure, quickly adding, "To the party." Well God, he didn't need to sound so eager covering it up. I thought it indifference, until I saw his eyes shifting over the floor, his lips squirming into a thin line. He was just shy. I wondered why he'd brought me here, why he was so intently listening to my stories... why was he getting nervous?

"Yep. He was hoping he could get me laid or at least wasted - - like all good big brothers are supposed to do." He laughed as if he hadn't expected such a thing from me, then smiled apologetically. "I kept you from both. I should be sorry, but I'm not." God, was he trying to be smooth? It was definitely working. This guy could've had me as soon as we were inside. Maybe even in the car. It was weird how eager and willing I was to give away the virginity I'd been seemingly safeguarding these eighteen years.

"I'm not sorry either... but... well, why did you go, Ryo?" I'd never seen him at University, or at least noticed him before, but I'm sure he was popular and surrounded by options, exchange students normally were. His hand reached behind him and started scratching the back of his head. I realized later that this was synonymous with bashfulness.

He looked at me, then looked away with a knowing little smile. "Friends, but more or less... same reason. To have fun and bring someone here." His thick accent didn't deride me from the hidden meaning, and I found myself just as red as he was, looking down at the table once more. Here I was, brought. So I wasn't crazy assuming he'd brought me home for that? I'd given him benefit of the doubt because he was foreign and unused to the colloquialism, but of course he'd learn his way around what with how sexual university campuses were in America. I breathed deep and slow, feeling him shift closer. I grew antsy, turning my face up toward his to see him also avoiding my gaze, which set the mood for the next minute or so.

I took it a breath at a time, looking up at the same time he did, feeling myself break through the shyness a little easier than he did. "So!" I barked loudly, making the poor guy jump. "Envelopes. I wonder how they get all that power into the adhesive, y'know?"

He gave me the look that I knew I deserved, one that'd completely derailed him from any thought of taking my v-card. At least the embarrassment seemed to be gone from him, as the confusion dissolved into a polite smile, his hand lifting from its position near mine to awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

"Yes. They're very... efficient."

Alright - - in my defense, Ryotaro was very attractive and it was unfair placing a hormone ridden eighteen year old male in front of such a specimen. The coffee wasn't helping my jitteriness either. However, as I babbled and carried on a very interesting conversation with myself, he seemed to relax as he listened. He didn't shut me up once or seemed perturbed, never once coming off like he'd rather be anywhere else than here.

By the end of my ranting I was exhausted, palms gripping my knees as I felt the sudden dizziness sweep over me. "Crap. 'm feeling kinda sleepy... and we weren't even doing anything! I was just talking the whole time and - - I totally ruined it, didn't I? I'm so sorry!" This time Ryo did shut me up, hurriedly clapping a warm palm up to my mouth, his touch soft. I melted into it on reflex, surprised when he didn't yank back his hand, only smiling a bit, like he was regarding something very precious to him. "It was fun." I wanted to believe that sweet, pure smile, but no saint on Earth could've endured the Hell I put him through tonight. I can't believe I wasn't being escorted from the premises at this point, but still here he was, showing me no sign that he'd been bothered. "Usually others hold back when they talk with me, because of my nationality." Gah, I didn't even think to hold back! It didn't occur to me that he'd have trouble understanding, not when he'd been able to carry a conversation so far. His accent was strong, and he spoke slow, but he was intelligible.

Just when I thought I'd ask if he could clearly understand me, a small smirk lit up his face handsomely. "You speak... 英語で... ah! Loud. But clear. So I understand much better than normal." He meant it as a compliment, but my lips tightened into a thin line, too embarrassed to be proud of it.

Ryo pondered over something, and decided with a small pat on the couch. "You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on couch. I'll take you home tomorrow... or... later today." I checked the time on my phone as he did on his. There'd been an unread message from Daniel, but I was too tired to read it now, and apparently a little too tired to really argue about sleeping arrangements. "You sure? 's kinda rude to just... steal your bed like that." I could feel myself slipping, almost like I could just relax back against the couch and fall asleep there. When it became apparent that I wasn't budging on my own, I felt something warm slip under my shoulders and around my waist, holding me upright. My eyes opened a crack and all but rolled into the back of my head, trudging along as he guided me to the bed. "Sorry. I'm so pooped," I huffed sadly, grunting in disapproval when he stopped in his tracks. I lolled my head to the side, eyes opening slightly to see the panic in his. "You... what...?" He seemed afraid to ask, and with what awareness I had left in me I chuckled tiredly, nuzzling into his chest in an effort to wake myself. "It's a colloquialism. Errh - - a saying. It means I'm tired... I didn't - - I didn't really poop or anything." I was a little more awake now after having to confirm that he was understanding things, and the heated body against mine was once again moving toward the bed. Maybe I was a little loopy from the sleepiness, enough to be comfortable, because I was snuggling into the warmth and wrapping an arm around his toned waist.

"I'll teach you American sayings and you let me rent your vacant room." I offered sleepily, the other male chuckling as he gently draped me over the bed. I felt his weight suddenly press down on me as if he'd slipped, hearing some frantic muttering in Japanese, but my hands gripped around his shirt, resisting as he tried to pull away. "You're really gonna let me sleep in your bed alone? I can scoot over." Maybe I was a little too tired to acknowledge that Ryotaro might have not wanted to share a bed with another guy, but still I felt attracted to his warmth and wanted to take a little more advantage of his kindness. I released him to make good on my promise and wiggle to the other side of the bed, watching him look lost for a second before he was lifting the covers around the both of us and joining me. Even though I'd made room for him, as soon as he hit the bed I was rustling back toward him, face buried in his strong arm, the rest of my body lining up to meet his. "You really want to move in?" He asked quietly, head thudding on the pillow as he turned his face to me. I was close enough for a kiss, I could feel his coffee scented breath on my forehead. But I didn't want to make it weirder than it already was.

"... Yeah. We'll see tomorrow." It sounded like he was asking me if I wanted to move in for another reason, but he was most likely just asking generally, and I didn't want to get my hopes up. What was the protocol for this type of thing? I'm sure sleeping in his bed wasn't a part of it. Still, he didn't give one sign that he was uncomfortable or put off, as far as I could tell before I fell asleep. Some time in the night our limbs had become a tangled mess, and my head was too close to his for comfort. But being the one to wake up earlier, I was able to freely gaze upon his handsome features without any restraint. Yes, it'd definitely be weird rooming with a person you were instantly attracted to, but he seemed sweet tempered enough to let that kind of thing slide.

I decided to make him coffee to pay him back for last night, slipping out of bed quietly to keep from disturbing his rest, watching him roll over in bed toward the warmth I left behind only to grab onto a pillow. God what I would give to be that pillow. I turned toward the kitchen and started up the coffee pot, leaning back against the counter to pull out my cell from my pocket. I immediately remembered last night's notification and went to my messages, checking the two words Daniel sent last night.

'Help me'

I say he sent it to me last night, but really it'd only arrived last night. Today was the fourteenth, I rechecked it with a swipe of my thumb. He'd actually sent it the first of this month, as if the text had somehow been delayed by service for two weeks and hadn't yet been delivered. The text had been sent fifteen minutes after my father kicked him out of my room. I remember because I'd set my alarm clock for the next day. What'd happened in those fifteen minutes since he'd left? Why hadn't he sent a message after that clarifying?

Anxiety struck right through me and it felt like I was falling. I gripped the counter top and glanced over the rest of his messages, checking if he'd called. I immediately called his phone and it was sent straight to his voice mail. I tried again, then a text to ask what was wrong, where he was, why he wasn't picking up. Maybe it was a prank-a really uncharacteristic prank, one that had me calling my foster parents and waking Ryotaro up to take me home. He yawned a few times on the way over, but Ryo never scowled or showed anything but concern, the sweet guy. "I hope he's alright." He murmured for my sake after I explained the situation, and I thanked him before looking out of the window. Ryotaro came with me into the house as my parents and I convened, which unnerved my father a little bit, and pleased my mother thoroughly once she saw how handsome he was. We'd contacted what friends of his we knew, but no one had heard from him or even seen him in a couple weeks. We called his work, but they hadn't seen him since he worked on the first of this month, just like me. Two weeks had gone by and we hadn't noticed a thing-Daniel didn't visit often, we relied heavily on text, and he was more distanced with his foster parents.

It was Saturday and Chrissie was home along with my parents, sitting on the couch and giving Ryotaro an uninterested glance before turning back to her father as he waited on the phone for the police. "Good riddance. Maybe he'll stop sneaking in all the time, right Daddy?"

"Shut your hole, Chrissie." I snapped harshly, earning a surprised squeak out of her, and an even more surprised reaction from my parents and Ryotaro. I'd never lashed out at her like that for her snobbery; it was always Daniel who couldn't stand her. Our mother held her shoulders, looking to me to try and calm me. "Chrissie darling, maybe now's not the best time..." She quietened as her husband spoke low on the phone, asking for different departments, the older woman speaking softly. "Hunter, we know you're upset, but we still need to be calm, especially in front of Chrissie."

I growled, folding my arms across my chest. I'd been their little perfect, adopted son up until they'd miraculously given birth to a child all of their own, and she'd taken precedence and priority without any lip from me. But I was angry, and scared. "She needs to stop talking. It'd be awful if something really did happen to him, Chrissie, and you'd be living with it the rest of your life."

She challenged me with a snort, shrugging her shoulders with a breezy smile, sweet and pretty, but venomous. "Makes no difference to me. Dad says all sinners burn in Hell; Daniel's going to burn too." Even Ryotaro looked flabbergasted, my foster mother shushing her and telling her to go up to her room before she made me any more angry. I tried relaxing and turned to my father, watching him speak, his expression remaining neutral. I turned to Ryotaro then, remembering through all of this he'd remained.

"You really... don't have to stay, Ryo."

"I don't. But I want to help if I can. Would it be better if I left?" I could tell he genuinely wanted to be there for me, and I thought it was sweet. I didn't want to be alone with my family, I wanted Daniel there, but Ryotaro naturally calmed me and I felt at ease, even though he'd caught a sample of just how strained things were here. My hand patted his knee and quickly slipped away before my mom could think anything of it. "No, I really appreciate it. Thanks." He smiled softly, and all of our attention remained on my father, who slowly hung up the phone and placed it back in his pocket.

"Well?" My mother asked, just about as torn up as I expected. Even though Daniel had rebelled and been ordered out of the house, she loved him dearly and worried about him all the time.

Her husband looked grave, but his features were always stern and I couldn't decipher between what was normal and abnormal. "They think they've found him. We'll go down to the station to verify." It seemed there was more to it than that, but I knew he was keeping it under wraps for my mother's sake. My foster father made it seem like it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, and that he was going down to the jailhouse to see Daniel, if not bail him out. Chrissie and mom stayed home, my Dad and I drove to the station, and Ryotaro came separately in his car.

Ryotaro was asked to wait in the lobby while my father and I walked back through the local police department's precinct for special cases and missing persons. Dad really hadn't explained the phone call to me on the ride there, and I was in denial with the strangeness of everything. Daniel was being held in a cell or something; my Dad and I would see him sitting there with a cocky grin, and he'd make a joke and ask me how last night was. Our father never really bailed Daniel out of jail before, so it was surprising that my Dad was so adamant that we came. I noticed the officers that sat at their desks were watching us, an uncomfortable feeling settling in my stomach. We were stopped at a large window that looked into another room, and the officer that showed us through was speaking into a walkie talkie situated on his person. Through the window, we saw medically trained personnel guiding a large cart through the door and into the room in front of us. After seeing the large bag on the wheeled table, I knew why my dad had kept mom at home.

They unzipped the body bag quickly, coarsely, until its contents were completely out in the open. Underneath was the remains of what ought to have been Daniel. It wasn't human anymore - - it was the charred makings of a human figure, but the body was so badly burned that there were no distinguishing features, nothing but height and proportions. He knew I'd be calm. That's why my foster father let me see. He also knew that he could trust me to keep this from his wife. The two of us kept silent and still, listening to the report beside me as the officer slowly, carefully spoke.

"Victim, unidentified, killed in a motorcycle accident. According to evidence at the scene, he skidded off road and the collision sparked the fuel tank. The skin burned right off his body." The officer looked uncomfortable with this, and I almost felt bad for him, but then the reality slowly started to sink in, that he should've been feeling bad for me, not the other way around. "Forensics said the impact and the fire wasn't enough to kill him right away... but by the time someone discovered him, it was too late." He hadn't died right away. How long had he been burning to death? My breath hitched and I was unable to take my eyes from him. My father turned to the officer, eyes burning.

"How do you know it's my son?" He sounded cold, but I knew then that he loved Daniel. Why else would he call him his son?

"We have his motorcycle's license plate number, as well as a few personal items found at the scene. If you can help us identify these things as his, we also have tissue sampling for further verification." It wasn't certain. But it was. Where else could he be?

My father was still thinking, as if any of these facts could've changed the reality we were faced with now. "You said he didn't die right away... that you didn't find him right away. When did he crash?"

The officer heaved a long sigh, as if the answers were too unbelievable for even him to come to terms with. "They test these kinds of things in the labs, checking for decay, on the body as well as the vehicle, but it's not always certain. They've got the accident pegged to... about two weeks ago, on the first of October. Death, on the fourth. Local authorities discovered the body after it was called in on the twelfth."

"The first... that's when I... turned him from our home." My father's face darkened with regret, an expression I'd never seen him wear before. My mind was reeling, and I remembered the messages I'd been receiving from Daniel up till now. "But Dad, the texts - - there's no way he's dead! I've been getting them all this time, look." He surged forward and leaned toward me, watching as my thumb darted over the smartphone's screen. His eerie two word text was still there, but as I scrolled through the line of messages, most of them were gone. None were dated after October first. None of the messages about jobs or apartments, about the party, nothing was there. My father ignored it and pulled his face away, the officer looking puzzled.

"... We found no phone at the accident, I'm sorry to say. Sir, if you're feeling well enough for it, we'd like to ask you about the day of his initial disappearance, and talk more about our course of action from there on."

No. No! The messages had to be on my phone somewhere! I wasn't just making things up! My eyes darted to the carcass on the other side of the thick window, desperate, scared and confused. What on Earth was going on? I saw that the personnel in the room were gone, giving us time to look at Daniel. Giving me plenty of time to notice the movement of his thumbs.

"Dad, look at his hands, look - -" I took hold of his arm and shook him until he was gruff and tearing his eyes from the officer's report, looking once more at his dead son. Daniel's thumbs were flexing, the movements so quick and subtle that it seemed like a trick of the light. Even the officer had no clue what was going on, the three of us noticeably flinching as my phone went off. I juggled it in my hands and tapped to open the message, feeling my chest tighten.

"He says - - he says he loves you and mom, and that he's sorry for everything!"

My dad could legibly see the text, the number it came from, his eyes lifting from the screen to look at his son's body in horror, watching his thumbs move.

"And... he says Chrissie is a..." My laugh was strained, and he looked over at me, still in his shock, as I interrupted the text, "Well, probably better if I don't say that." There were two more messages after that, and I read them slow, confused by them.

"'It used my phone. I couldn't stop it.' Dad, what does that mean?" I asked him softly, seeing him start to slowly shake his head, turning toward the officer. "I'll answer those questions, Officer - - but I want this quiet. This only concerns his family, and I will not have his death be paraded throughout the city."

"But Dad, wait - -" I tugged on his arm and he shoved me away, shocking the both of us. He relaxed, his face lowering as he muttered curtly, "You sound like a raving lunatic, and I don't have the capacity for it right now. Have your friend bring you home. When your mother asks, let her know that I'll tell her when I'm home." I thought about how awful that'd be, prolonging the inevitable, but I realized his decision was final, and he was going to tell her.

"I'll... find a way to tell her," he said. For a second, I saw a weakness in my father's resolve as he looked toward the cadaver one last time, heartbroken. He turned and followed the officer, while another came to escort me back to the lobby.

Ryotaro stood from a chair as soon as he saw me, and I shook my head slowly, all but collapsing into his arms with hard sobs. He held me tightly for who knows how long, until I could pull away and face the walk back to the car. "... my Dad'll kill me if he sees me huggin' a dude," I mumbled weakly, hearing a small pity laugh out of Ryotaro as he opened the door for me.

"... I would've liked to meet him." he finally spoke once we were in the car, eyes flickering from the road onto me as I sat there, pitiably. It took all I had not to crumble into a million pieces, knowing that Ryotaro would never meet him, and I'd never see him again. I kept my eyes on the window, distant and empty. "After all, he... brought you to me." It was a sweet gesture, and I took advantage of the comfort he offered in the form of his hand, holding it tightly, my eyes darting over to watch the other hand steer the car.

I thought about that, the text about the party where Ryotaro and I met. How they didn't find a cellphone at the scene of the accident. Did he really bring us together?

And then, a buzz in my hand. I'd been tightly clasping onto my phone until now, and my fingers were stiff with tension. I hurriedly went straight to my messages, reading the last text sent from Daniel's phone, sent at 11:45pm on October 1st.

'He'll meet me, someday.'

My father took it upon himself to tell his wife and only daughter about the accident. Our Mom seemed inconsolable at first, but she started going to therapy and working things out with her husband. For once, Chrissie had been gravely silent, and had nothing snide to say. After that, I didn't receive any more of those miraculous texts from Daniel. It was at this time that I introduced Ryotaro to my family, who accepted him as if filling in a void for the one they just lost. My foster family was more than used to Ryotaro by the time he helped move me in. My mother was always delighted to have him over and really couldn't get enough of him. Chrissie was suspicious of him, baiting him for dirt like the little spawn she was. My foster father regarded him quietly, but it was a lot better than outwardly hating the guy. In a few months, I'd gotten a job and busied myself in work and school. Ryotaro and I hung out more, and soon came the day when I could become his roommate. I packed up my boxes, filled my suitcases, and he helped carry them to his car. I only had to move in my desk, since the apartment already had a bed and a dresser in my room. Still, I cleaned out my things from under the bed, scooting the large piece of furniture to the side to reach the space along the wall. There was a single item on the ground, untouched since the day it'd fallen between the mattress and the wall. It'd been so long that I didn't recognize it at first, but it struck me suddenly and I was reaching for it, almost knocking my head into the window sill as I picked up Daniel's phone.

It'd been there all this time, in the same spot that he'd accidentally dropped it all those nights ago, the last time he snuck into my room. I remembered now, hearing the thud and reaching for it myself before he shrugged it off and claimed he'd get it before he left. But he never did. The battery hadn't drained from it as I swiped across the screen, sighing in heady relief as it unlocked without needing a passcode entry. Having his phone in my hands spread a bit of closure in me. It felt like he was here again, sneaking into my window to check on me and give me advice. I wiped my teary eyes with the back of my hand, sniffling as I looked through the texts. There hadn't been any sent out after his death on October first, according the log. I looked on my phone, and saw the same evidence; they'd all been deleted.

It seemed ironic to me that these messages were gone, and I felt further relief. It was as if Daniel was letting me go, telling me not to wait for anymore messages. His time on Earth was done. My time in this house was done too, and I remembered myself enough to dry my eyes and go downstairs with the last box.

I placed it at my feet as I waited downstairs to say goodbye, looking over my foster father's shoulder to see my mother preparing Ryotaro a sandwich, Chrissie making some cheeky comment. But I kept my attention on my father, giving him a soft smile as I handed over the phone. "He dropped it underneath my bed, the night he died." My voice was quiet - - we hadn't really talked about it, he and I, since we found out at the station. And I hadn't brought up the texts, or told my mother about them.

"It'll be hard, losing Daniel from this home, and now you. So visit us occasionally. If you need anything, we're here." He meant it, and I felt comforted, leaning in as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I will. Thanks, Dad."

"Good. You remember the special charm? It'll help you through anything, if you mean it."

I laughed kindly, nodding my head as I pulled away. "Of course. Ludam, edam, dormiam bracchia. Couldn't forget if I tried."

Ryotaro had been a tremendous support after Daniel died, and he'd been an even better roommate once we started living together. I was determined to maintain this relationship and not let it get mixed up with any weird feelings or attractions. No matter how handsome... or sweet or wonderful he was, I wasn't going to come onto him and ruin everything. Even though it was really, really hard. No matter what he did, he was insanely cute for a guy, and it definitely wasn't helping the fact that I was out from underneath the 'protection' of my parents' hawk-like supervision. As Daniel's intention had been, now I could be as gay as I want, right?

As if I'd somehow gained favor in the Lord, I'd been sent divine distraction. Well, not really divine in the sense of anything holy or reverent. It was more divine in the sinful, decadent concept, lavished with luxury. I was sort of 'seeing someone'. I wanted some actual experience, a way to alleviate stress, something to take my mind off of both Daniel and Ryotaro, and I was eager to make up for every waking moment I'd suppressed my sexuality. His name was Jack, and he was one of the more shadier guys on campus; I doubted he ever studied, because from the deft skill he showed in every touch and kiss, it felt like he'd been practicing the art of fucking all his life. In a way he was my outlet, a thrilling new start to living out of bounds. On the other hand, he was a spitfire like my late brother, and he filled the void a little at a time with things he probably shouldn't.

But, unlike my brother and sweet, sweet Ryotaro, Jack was an asshole.

"Nnah - - Ja... ck... this place is... ughmnf~"

He lifted his handsome, pierced face from my neck, but didn't bother to stop the movement of his palm over my jeans. "Ughmnf? Tch. Nothing grosser than hearing a guy moan. Keep your goddamn mouth shut." Abusive language was like second nature to him, and I'd learned to ignore it unless I wanted blue balls and more than enough verbal shit-slinging to bring me to tears. It was easier to do what he said and keep quiet so that he could get me off, and I him, and we'd go our separate ways. His hand was tugging the button of my jeans undone, stuffing his hand beneath the waistband of my boxers to slide his bare hand gently over my cock, curling his fist around it for a few good, strong tugs. My vision blurred in the euphoria and I bit the back of my hand to quiet myself, keeping my hips still against the stall of the bathroom I'd tried to complain about earlier. For a shitty men's restroom, the acoustics in here were amazing. I was sure I'd be able to hear the sound of his rough handjob from the entryway.

It was incredibly hot, and that was the only reason why I answered his texts. I wasn't totally ready to be open with my sexuality because I was scared about what my friends would think, and I could trust him to keep it a secret; he definitely had some unresolved issues accepting his own preference for men and wouldn't lower himself by associating with me. But the sex was so good, and the roughness turned me on like nothing else, so I kept going back. We both get something out of it, and I'm never forced into anything. And the lower he drops my self esteem, the more dependent I grow on him, and in turn he gets colder towards me.

My hands were buried in the material of my sweater, trembling as he jerked my cock at an unforgiving pace, and I almost whined for a little spit, anything, when he saw the discomfort in my eyes. His hand released my length immediately, and for a moment he looked uncertain of what to do, watching his hand as though it'd been burnt, before quickly raising it to my mouth. "Lick," he huffed, large hand covering my face, fingers and thumb squeezing at my cheeks. I knew his fingers would taste like cigarettes, but I complied anyways. I opened up and set to work getting his fingers dripping from my tongue, panting hard as I sucked on the skin between his index and thumb, lapping at his open palm, slowly sucking on the two fingers he introduced into my mouth, his eyes on my lips as while fingers slipped further inside them.

Usually the mean comments stopped once he was too horny to care about coming off as the abusive 'straight' guy. "Turn around."

My face grew too hot and I felt dizzy, releasing his now wet fingers with a quick breath, "W-Wuh-We can't here."

"Wuh-wuh-wuh - - 'm not gonna put it in, dumbass." He used his dry hand to smooth back dyed tufts of his hair, his pink tongue running over a pierced lip. He was every bit the dangerous boy fathers everywhere kept their daughters safe from. His hand returned to my erection, but this time it was nice and wet with my saliva, and I was happily thrusting into his palm even though I knew somewhere through the haze he hated that. "Gonna use your ass to tug it, though. Turn the fuck around or I'm leaving you here with that rager." I wiggled around while he still held my cock in his grasp, shifting my bottoms down as he tightened his grip, grabbing my hips with the other hand to lay his girth between my ass cheeks.

It'd taken about ten minutes of desperate humping and making out, but the deed was done at last, and I could wash up in the sink. I was satisfactorily flushed as I cleaned off my hands and wrists, rolling up the sleeves of my sweater bit by bit, splashing water in my face to cool down. We'd met by chance in the library, I've never seen him there before in my life, and one dark look from him had me leaving my studies to follow him into the bathroom. He kicked open the stall door after taking a leak, making a big deal of putting himself away in his pants and zipping it up, coming up from behind. I could feel his hot breath over the skin of my nape, exposed now that he'd stretched the neck of my sweater out with the harsh tugging of my clothing. I turned my face to the side toward him, shyly, though we've kissed a dozen million times and have gone all the way only a handful of times. Our lips touched tenderly, and he was being uncharacteristically soft. I could feel my reasoning start to slip away, almost on the cusp of allowing myself to feel something for this deranged bigot.

"Hunter?"

The foreign accent had Jack ripping himself away from me, though he kept his hand balled up in the back of my sweater as if he'd known I'd wanted to run away. Ryotaro stood in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes darting from between the two of us. I didn't know how to respond, him of all people catching us like this was astronomically bad luck. "Fuck is this? You know the chink, Hunt?" Jack felt that his manhood was being threatened by being potentially outed and as such did what he did best; insult the daylights out of anyone that was unlucky enough to cross his path. I thought Ryotaro might've been saved from the slur because he hadn't been in the country for that long, but it wasn't lost on him and his face grimaced, tearing my heart to pieces.

He took his dark eyes off of Jack after a long look, deciding immediately that he wasn't going to challenge the already agitated hooligan. "Are you okay?" he asked me instead, ignoring Jack and noticing the disarrayed clothing and hair, the red marks on my neck, the flustered look I wore. Not a good look for me, definitely a sight I never intended to show him. "I'm fine - - really." My throat felt dry, I wasn't sure how I was able to speak coherently. Jack didn't like being ignored by me or Ryotaro, shoving me back against the sink behind him to curtly whisper in my face. "You fucking told him about us, didn't you?" This was angrier than I'd ever seen him, compared to this he'd been benevolent and sweet, and I really thought today would be the first day he hit me until his face was suddenly gone from my field of vision and I'd been watching his back recede as he shoved Ryotaro into the wall. "What'd he tell you? Better fucking speak up before I kick your gook ass." I saw Ryotaro's face twist in anger and hurt, seeing as my roommate was taller than Jack, but that didn't stop the idiot from threatening him in the first place.

Watching him treat Ryotaro like that sparked some kind of protectiveness in me, and whereas I'd lacked the capacity to care about what Jack said about me, this here really bugged me.

I jumped into action then and strode from behind, latching onto Jack's back, grabbing his shoulders with all my strength to tug him off of Ryotaro. Jack staggered back, releasing Ryotaro's shirt to turn and face me, incredulous and challenged. I'd dealt with an angry Daniel before - - I could do this. At least, I didn't really put into consideration that Danny loved me and for my sake always calmed down when I stood up to him.

Jack was surprised that I'd defied him in some way, and I took advantage of his lapse in thought, releasing him and taking a deep breath. "You don't get to talk to Ryo like that." My voice was firm and steady, thank god, and through my convictions I was able to get over the nerves underneath my skin. "You call me whatever you want and I've never complained once... but I'll be damned if you threaten or touch him again." I wove around him and stood in front of Ryotaro protectively, which might've been comparable to a house-trained cat to a lion. Nothing threatening, but the animal instincts were still there.

Protecting Ryotaro, I felt fearless.

But that didn't protect me from Jack, who swerved in on me. "You little fucking - - " I felt actual whiplash from the force of his fist yanking me forward by my sweater, his other fist raised to make contact with my face at a blindingly hard speed. The fluorescent lights above grew brighter until they burst and burnt out, and the sound of shattering glass sounded behind us, shards of broken mirror clattering into the sink and onto the ground. The loud noises stopped Jack in his momentum before could hurt me, and the three of us were shrouded in still, quiet darkness. I was breathing heavily, lifted up onto the tips of my toes from where he held me, grateful for this random freak accident that saved me from a punch. Still... what the Hell was going on? Jack seemed to receive the message from this invisible force, and he released me with a shove.

"... Whatever." Jack dismissed it, surprisingly backing down as he shifted his clothes. "Just keep him quiet, or I will." He shoved past Ryotaro and left the two of us, and I didn't relax until I heard the sound of his stomping boots fade.

The lights flickered back on, reflecting off of the scattered pieces of mirror behind me. My shoulders all but fell to the floor as I breathed a sigh of relief, keeping my eyes on the ground. I was too shocked to think about the mirror and the lights, they were all second to what'd happened. Now I had to come to terms with the fact that Ryotaro saw me kissing such a douche. At this point, I was more ashamed of being with someone like Jack than I was ashamed of being gay. Well, wait, that was important too. I looked up finally since he was being so quiet, and meeting his gaze I realized he'd been watching me the whole time, and he looked confused.

"Boyfriend?" he asked after a short while. I breathed a laugh, couldn't help myself after the look on his face, and I slowly shook my head. "No no, not boyfriend. Friends with benefits." My eyes flickered down then back up to catch more confusion. Great. "It means we're just friends but... uhh... sometimes we h... have sex. No feelings involved."

Ryotaro managed something of a smile, but it was sad and somewhat bitter. "I know what friends with benefits means." Oh. I looked down, ashamed, keeping my eyes lowered even as he spoke again after what seemed like the span of ten minutes.

"Why him?"

It caught me by surprise, enough that it pulled my eyes upward. Ryotaro wasn't even acknowledging the fact that I'd been with another guy, no he was well past that. His response was... weird. It wasn't just validating the fact that Jack was a royal asshole... it also voiced some kind of regret Ryo seemed to be feeling. He was wracking his brain over this, wondering why I'd chosen someone like that over someone else, anyone else. Or maybe it wasn't just anyone else.

It sounded like Ryotaro wanted me to have chosen him instead.

"Why him? It just... kind of happened, Ryo. I didn't really pick him for his winning personality." He wasn't in the mood for a laugh and I stumbled through more excuses. "We're compatible. It just feels good. Nothing more." Why was I trying so hard to defend myself? Why did I feel like shit?

I was praying harder than I'd ever prayed before that Ryotaro would stake his claim and keep me from feeling crazy. I wasn't crazy to think this, was I? To think that Ryo actually wanted me?

I stopped sleeping with Jack after that, and I discovered tension between Ryotaro and I that I hadn't really noticed before. Things were near back to the way they were, we interacted normally and didn't avoid each other... but there was always something off. I figured that once we were done with university, we'd split up and that'd be the end of that.

Thankfully he had plenty of friends and was always eager to go exploring the city and its outskirts, and I had work. There were times, however, when our schedules matched up. One Sunday morning, I caught him sitting on the couch with a somber expression, just as I'd gotten out of the shower, towel hanging around my neck, a bead of water dripping from my nose as I looked over his shoulder. "What's the matter?" I asked, ruffling the towel through my hair, comfortable in a plain shirt and pajama shorts. Ever since I moved out, I stopped going to my parents' church, and I loved the freedom it provided. The guilt of being a disobedient little demon child subsided as I lounged about and enjoyed my day off. Ryotaro liked to use his Sundays for outdoorsy adventures with his friends, and me if I accepted an invitation, but I made up whatever excuses I could to get out of them.

The dark haired male was all dressed in his hiking gear, with a sleeveless, form fitting workout T, a pair of shorts, shoes, his backpack to the side of him. If he didn't look distressed, I would've been appreciating the tight fitting ensemble more. "They canceled the hike. Because it will rain, no one wants to go. It's perfect outside." Ryotaro was a naturally cheerful guy, but being his roommate, there were times where he could act like a child, like any of us. Even he lost his temper, though it took a lot, and he got grumpy occasionally. These little witnessed imperfections were just more testaments to how close we were getting, and I enjoyed them. "Well, the trails get slippery and stuff... and some of the places flood in the rainy season, don't they?" I dried off my face again, seeing him look up from his screen at me with resolve in his eyes. Sexy resolve. I shivered, and pretended it was the chill in the room.

"I'm still going. The park will be open." He stood and got his things ready, and I quickly interjected, "Woah woah, hold up - - you're not going alone." I'd never intervened like this. Of course, Ryotaro had never tried something this potentially stupid and dangerous. The both of us looked surprised that I was speaking up.

"You... will go with me?" Goodbye relaxing Sunday.

His face lit up like the fourth of July, or whatever Japanese holiday equivalent, and he lifted the baseball cap off his head and placed it on mine, twisting the larger hat onto my smaller head, before I had to take it off and get ready. As soon as I dressed, I was running around the apartment looking to pack things in my own drawstring backpack, but Ryotaro thought I was being excessive and he just wanted to leave for the good weather. Looking out the windows of the car, it was bright and sunny outside. And once we stepped out into the dirt where all the paths began and ended, it was warm and dry. It beckoned to Ryotaro, who was leading me happily. "You never come with me. Very, very happy, Hunter." Sometimes he got too excited or frustrated for proper English grammar. My very own Japanese Tarzan. I loved it!

I hated hiking though.

We'd been walking for what felt like an hour at least, and Ryotaro's pace was unrelenting. I should've given Ryotaro more credit, the hike was mostly uphill, and he wasn't even breaking a sweat. It wasn't until I couldn't see him anymore that he came jogging back down the trail to me, the muscled, strapping young male resting his hands on his hips while I doubled over, hands on knees as I collected my breath. "How many... haahh... more miles is it?" Telling me was useless by now, in the first place I still wasn't very well familiar with distances and how long it took to cross those distances. "Five miles." He held up his hand emphatically and I groaned, plopping down on my butt, resting back on my hands. My face was flushed, little brown tufts of hair sticking around my face. "Maybe you should - - huff - - go on without me." I felt bad going out there with him only to slow him down, but he seemed unbothered, eagerly looking around at all the wildlife. "No. Let's go more slowly, " he offered as he watched me, and everything sweet and pure in the world was in his bright grin.

How could you not like this guy?

Eventually he helped me to my feet and we were walking much more slowly along the trail. He offered breaks when he could see that I couldn't tolerate much more, and I denied a few and gratefully took some. His spirits had never dampened, and I loved seeing him so excited about the activity. But we couldn't avoid the storm clouds for long, which had appeared just as suddenly as the rain had, pouring down on us.

"What about that ranger's hut a little ways back? Anything to get out of the train, right?" Ryotaro and I had been trying to get down from the rocks we'd just climbed from, the two of us already soaked to the bone. My hand slipped from my hold on the rock and I fell forward, skidding on my hands and knees. He immediately knelt by my side to assess the damage, worried about the bit of blood on my knees. "Stupid, stupid Ryotaro," he cursed himself, gathering me up on my feet and slipping his arm about my waist, holding me close to him. My knees stung a little, he was being a little over dramatic, but I liked being rescued by him.

We found our way back to the little abandoned shack, relieved when the door opened for us and we were able to find refuge in the well tiled ceiling. The rain had washed away the mud and most of the blood from my knees, and I inspected them after he sat me down on a chair. He crouched below me and lifted the lower half of his shirt, using it to gently dab at the wound. My knee jerked in response to the painful stimuli, though he was trying to be as soft as possible, and his other hand reached to touch my thigh, holding it comfortingly. I knew the damp hair shrouding my face wouldn't hide the heat blooming across my cheeks as his hand remained on my thigh, the other reaching for a first aid kit on top of the desk table. Silently he worked and I watched, the dull thud of raindrops hitting the roof sounding loudly.

With both of my knees tenderly cared for, he looked up from where he sat, seeing the water drip from me. "Cold?" he asked, standing to look around for blankets. There was a cot in the corner, with a pillow and a large, thick blanket folded atop. He grabbed it and brought it forward, ready to drape it around me, but his eyes were still on my clothes.

"... Should I take 'em off?" I asked, catching the meaning in his stare. He nodded quickly, and I tried not to think that his eyes were on me as I worked off the clothing that clung to my cold body. Before I could fully wiggle out of my underwear he'd covered me with the blanket and started on his own clothes. My eyes darted away, holding the blanket tightly around me as I heard his wet clothing smack onto the floor piece by piece.

There was only one blanket. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but I don't want him to freeze either. Who was I kidding, I was more than thrilled to get his naked body close to mine.

When there was more silence, I loosened the grip on the blanket and held one side out for him, still keeping my eyes elsewhere. He reluctantly stepped into the large blanket and moved closer to the side of me, the two of us walking backward until we could plop onto the cot. I pulled up my knees and sat criss-cross underneath the blanket, while his toned legs sat over the edge of the cot. Our shoulders and hips were pressed together, and I tried not to imagine what he was like underneath all this, instead turning my face toward his with a smile. "Your friends were right about it raining. Lucky them though, not stuck in a little shack with a stinky fart like you." Boy was I emanating oodles of charm. He liked my teasing and wrinkled his nose in that goofy smile of his, nuzzling his shoulder into mine. "I am not stinky fart... wait, am I?" He leaned over to sniff himself, much to my amusement, and made a disgusted face. "Little bit... and you?" He inquired, grinning as his face neared mine, dipping to brush his nose along my shoulder.

I could feel the little breaths he took, my heart pounding from his closeness despite how much fun I was having. He didn't make any faces this time, but decided with a laugh, "Stinky." I dropped my face and laughed, feeling like a weirdo getting my hopes up for nothing. I was glad that he was at least comfortable being naked in front of someone like me, who really wouldn't have tried anything unless he wanted it. I'd been so scared of rejection that it still surprised me when Daniel and now Ryotaro showed no sign of disgust or hatred. It was more than I could ever hope for.

Looking up once more, his eyes were on me, and the laughter remained in his eyes, but his smile had dimmed. I quickly sobered up and did my best to meet his gaze, which was really hard when he was so close, his eyes intense and quick, like he could see right through me. My body was warming up quickly, and I gathered the blanket tighter around me, looking down and breaking eye contact first. He shifted after me, his forehead gently pressing into mine. I huffed, irritated suddenly. What was this? Didn't he know what kind of an effect he had on me?!

"Look, Ryo." I lifted my face, our foreheads still touching, noses all but brushing into each other as I looked into his eyes. "You keep shoving your face into mine and I swear to God I'll kiss it."

My bold threat had him visibly surprised, and he finally lifted his face away. Good. He'd been pretty accepting of me so far, but he didn't want to go so far as to be kissed. That seemed to keep him from that unnecessary closeness, for a few moments.

Then, the closeness returned, the side of his head touching mine. I heaved a sigh, so loud that I almost couldn't hear him muttering.

"I don't... mind."

"Hm?" A confused little noise escaped my throat, turning my head to look at him clearly, hoping that he'd make the last bit more clear. Had my heart ever beat this fast? Or hard? He didn't mind. His eyes were lowered this time, and his tanned skin was dark in the face, reddened with a heat I'd rarely seen in him.

Ryotaro wasn't the type to joke about this thing. Or was he? I'd never really heard him talk about girls before, or about us. We'd never gotten this physically close before, and we'd never really flirted. Was he just curious? I ran my tongue over my lip, wetting it before I leaned in to press my lips onto his warm cheek. The action was rushed, but I prolonged the contact, feeling him grow warmer under my lips, before I pulled back to speak against his skin. "Okay?" My throat sounded a little ragged, like the proverbial lump in my throat was giving me a hard time. He released a breath that he'd been holding for who knows how long, whispering a small, "Okay," in return.

I wanted to feel more of him underneath my lips. I kissed his cheek again, lingering longer. I turned toward him more and in my excitement sat up to kiss further up the side of his face, at his temple. He patiently let me kiss his face, even though I was sure I weirded him out beyond belief and kissed my way out of this opportunity. I plopped back down onto my butt, the bed bouncing lightly, before my face closed in once more and I was brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. His breath hitched, and I pulled back to see his eyes tightly shut, face tensed harder than I'd ever seen it. "Y-You alright?" I murmured urgently, watching him relax a bit at the sound of my voice. His eyes opened, and the glassy look in them sent my heart palpitations. "Yes. But... hazukashii. It's embarrassing." It was hard to tell whether or not he was uncomfortable, but of course I'd never seen that kind of expression on his face before. I wanted to embarrass him some more.

He closed his eyes quickly, waiting. I grazed closer to him, kissing down the path of his jaw to his chin, just a breadth away from his lips. I felt the dip between his lower lip and chin, before feeling his face tilt toward my own. His lips squirmed against mine for the faintest second, but pursed against mine softly. I melted into him, sighing through my nostrils as I closed my eyes half way, watching the same tension in his face. I'd browsed Japanese porn in the early, curious days and saw how differently some of the men responded to pleasure. I doubted Ryo had ever had sex in his life, but he seemed to just naturally be this nervous type that appeared unwilling, but were very much active and into it.

He was so cute I thought I was gonna die.

"O-pen your mouth for me, Ryo." I was nervous too, but more than that I wanted to taste him, and get him squirming even more. I always fantasized I'd be the one being teased, but there was something equally satisfying about getting Ryo to squirm. His lips loosened and he opened his mouth, his tongue waiting patiently until mine licked against it. He grunted, the lovely sound reaching my mouth as I felt him succumb to me, slowly and surely, until he was leaning back toward the cot, all the while slowly running his tongue along mine. I leaned over him until we were all but falling onto the uncomfortable bed, my body plainly resting over his, my knees barely touching either side of the bed as I snuggled in close, underneath the blanket.

He really, really liked tongue, to the point where I wasn't sure if we were ever going to get past kissing. His body was completely still, and my smaller body slowly moved on top, subconsciously rutting my hardness into his thigh. I could feel his own cock against my hips, and I ached to feel it thicken further inside me. Ryotaro was in a dizzy spell by the time I lifted my mouth off of his for air, all flushed cheeks and dewy eyes as I watched him catch his breath.

"You're... cute," he mumbled, and his hand wiped across his mouth, hiding the majority of the adorably heated features of his handsome face. His hand relaxed, and I could see the way his face softened just between the spaces of his fingers, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering closed. "Very, very happy," he whispered. My heart twisted in my chest, and I knew I couldn't bear this anymore without telling him. It hurt too much to think that after this, I'd never be able to see this again, or to feel him underneath me, trembling.

"Do you like me, Ryo?" I breathed quietly, one hand supporting myself up as the other trailed down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, fingers curling around his hardened shaft, a few pumps of my fist rendering him incapable of speech or thought as he bucked shamelessly beyond his control. "'Cause I... I really like you. And I wanna suck your dick," I admitted shamelessly, though said lack of shame burned on my face. I never thought I'd be saying something like this to Ryotaro in a million years, but here I was with a very plain desire.

He tried to hide his face with his hand but I'd already seen the aroused chagrin spread deeper over his handsome face, and without further warning I was kissing down his body, spending an inordinate amount of time tracing over the definition in his body until he was moaning so hotly that I knew I couldn't wait anymore. I couldn't care less about size or the fact that he was uncut, I eagerly stroked him into my mouth right away, resting my arms atop his thighs as I wrapped my lips around the tip, sucking him in slow, soft rolls. I pulled down his foreskin as far as it'd let me, running my tongue over the pulse I felt, before kissing and teasing the tip until his sac was tight, and he was growing continually restless. I looked up at the feeling of his hand in my hair, pushing it away from my forehead, subjected to his burning gaze. I shivered and sank one hand down below, starting to toy with my ass, debating whether or not I could make it work without lube. Probably not. I resigned and started jerking myself off instead while I sucked him off.

I eased his girth further inside my mouth, slowly wiggling my face further until I could feel him twitching against the back of my throat, his hand slowly guiding me by the scalp in a steady rhythm, relaxing my throat so he could roll his hips and sink himself into the searing wet heat of my mouth. Watching him ascend into ecstasy had me cumming a lot faster than I'd likely admit, releasing white all over my hand. When he finally came, I swallowed it down without a second thought, slowly pulling my flushed face off of his lap, until his spent cock slipped from my lips.

We were a panting mess, the both of us, until I started moving and plopped down on top of him. He easily took my weight into his arms, watching my face with a sort of tired fascination. He pulled the blanket up over my exposed shoulder, and before I could stop myself I was already leaning up to kiss him, finding it sexy that he didn't care if I'd just blown him. He enjoyed the kiss all the same, his tongue freely meeting mine.

I woke early in the morning, outside of the cabin. My body shivered hard, a reflex to stimulate my drive and wake me up, hopefully to fight off the cold. My body felt... wet. And it wasn't the type of wet that rolled off your skin, like clear drops of water that just kind of spills off you after a shower. It was sticky, and viscous, and down through the moonlight at myself, it wasn't clear at all. Blood. I scraped the feeling off my face with the pads of my fingers, but it wasn't any use. How did I get out here? What was going on? The rain had slowed, but a steady stream of runoff was dripping from the corner of the shack's roof. I stood underneath it, coiling against the searing cold of the water, but it was enough so that if I held myself underneath it, the blood slowly trickled off. I scrubbed my hands over my arms, my legs, the rest of my nakedness, but the smell clung on. Blood and cigarettes. My fingers were stiffening up from the cold, the chattering of my teeth felt loud in my head. What time was it?

Underneath my fingernails felt full, like when you played with dirt or cooked with dough. I cleaned underneath, confused when the mud I'd expected to be there was rubbery, and fine. Skin. Was that where the blood was from? But I was drenched in it. It was too cold to look for any scratches on me that I might've self inflicted, naked and wet as I all but stumbled into the cabin, sneaking back underneath the blankets with Ryotaro.

"Cold," he complained sleepily, being a good sport about it and hugging me close, hands rubbing up and down my body to promote circulation. I shuddered into him several times until the cold pains went away, and I was able to feel my fingers and toes again. Warmth replaced the pain, the confusion. It was like it hadn't even happened. It'd all been a bad dream, like the ones I had when I was small.

From then on, without any warning, I'd jump him around the house. If it wasn't a good time for him, or he said he didn't want it, I'd stop, but more often than not I'd be dragging him to my bedroom or his, and we'd wake up in the same bed. He became a little more active during sex, exploring my body when we kissed, rolling on top of me and pressing his body down against mine until I weakly reminded him that I needed to breath. He still wasn't really initiating anything, however, and we hadn't gone all the way. I wondered if it was just me with an insatiable libido. Was he going along with everything just to be nice?

So, I put it to the test. After weeks of randomly shoving my hand down his pants or sitting on his lap, I cut him off. Sometimes he startled, like when I sat next to him on the couch, or froze expectantly when I walked into the apartment, but he soon relaxed once he realized I wasn't going to do anything. His little reactions were worth the wait, especially when he looked disappointed. This had lasted for a few days up to about a week of abstinence, and we were sitting by each other on the couch, watching a movie. I knew he was caving because he really hated sitting down for extended periods of time, even if it was for a movie. I kept my eyes on the screen, settling back into the couch, showing no sign of betraying my strong desire to make up on lost time. I could feel his face continually turn towards mine, eyes boring into my skull. Finally I obliged him, lolling my head to the side lazily. "What's up?" I spoke quietly, seeing the turmoil and reluctance on his face, on the way he held his elbows and huffed. He was pouting.

"Did I... do something wrong?" his voice was thick with emotion, and for an instant I felt terrible. "Lately, you haven't..." He paused as he searched my face, before embarrassment struck him and he looked away. "You don't want it anymore, right? Boring."

Ahh shit. I went too far. I immediately reached for him, turning his face by the chin to direct the frown back at me. "You're not boring. I was just... feeling a little insecure." He wasn't sure what that meant and looked more frustrated, and for the first time I felt like a total ass for getting him so worked up. "I wanted to find out what you'd do if I made you wait. See if you got nervous, or if it drove you crazy not touching me... it was childish and stupid, I know. 'm really sorry, Ryo." He seemed to understand more then, and there was some relief, but he also looked a little ticked off. Angry was also a good look on him, I discovered.

"So, we can do it - - again?"

"Yeah, 'course we can. Whenever you want." The tension in his brow relaxed into a hopelessly elated expression, and this time he was leaning in to kiss me on the nose, nearly missing my lips on the second try. "Now," he grunted urgently, his hands diving into my hair, cradling my head underneath his fingers, until I was urging him into my bedroom.

The two of us laid on our sides facing each other, my right leg curled around his naked waist, my heel all but digging into his ass the closer I rubbed myself against him. We'd worked off our pants, legs intertwined, our hands both stroking each other off in unison. His hand was a lot rougher than usual and his thumb seemed to rub all the right spots. I had a really hard time keeping my voice down, pulling his face down by his neck to muffle my moans inside his mouth. I'd taught him a while back about going all the way, since he hadn't properly done it with any guy or girl, and without even asking he was already getting the lube out from my drawer, forsaking the condoms. I spread my leg up and around his waist, feeling the first digit push in slow, past the burning sensation and into my warm, pliant ass. God it felt dirty, getting played with on both ends, having his tongue in my mouth, seeing how his eyes stared into mine.

I raised my leg higher as the arm that reached underneath my ass added in another finger, and I was pushing down against the intrusion with a hiccup of a moan. It wasn't long until he was moving his hips and slipping himself further in between my legs, his cock sliding between my ass cheeks, trying to push in without properly positioning himself. With one hand clasping tightly onto his shoulder, I used the other to reach behind me, guiding his cock right against my entrance until I felt him begin to push, raggedly sighing as the familiar sensation of his cap burst inside. "Jeez, it's been awhile," I whimpered, slowly adjusting with each second he pushed his cock further inside me. Both of my arms were wrapped around his shoulders, face nuzzling into his neck while he held my hips, pulling out and gently stuffing himself into me with each movement, moaning huskily into my ear.

"Cyu... Cute. Kawaisugi - - ru... Kimochii, Hunter." When he spoke Japanese into my ear at times like this, he'd brought on my climax that much sooner. It didn't matter that I had no idea what he was saying, his voice was ragged and desperate and deep in my ear. My ass tightened considerably around him, unable to withstand the constant pressure of his cock forcing itself inside my tight walls, eventually finishing between the both of us, waiting until I felt that familiar trickle of seed spurt inside me.

I didn't know love was supposed to feel this good. My foster parents always recommended it to me, assuring me that I'd find a nice girl to settle down with. Daniel didn't believe in love, not monogamous love anyway, arguing that no one person could mean everything sexual for another. Both my parents and Daniel were a little wrong. I definitely wasn't aiming to settle down with a girl - - Ryotaro was very much a man. And Ryotaro satisfied every one of my desires. The sex was simple and sweet, rarely did we try anything else other than the norm, but it was frequent and satisfying. I broke all contact with Jack, who most likely moved on to his next victim without incident.

And my parents loved him. Of course, they didn't know I was riding that dick like a rodeo, but they didn't need to know we were a couple. I knew they'd never understand. Ryotaro's parents were the same, he had no desire to tell them either. And so, we kept on our dirty little secret, right on through the traditional Sunday family dinners with Ryotaro as a permanent, new fixture.

"So, Ryo, as you can see I tried my hand at Chinese tonight. How's the sweet n' sour pork? Just like home?" She'd happily researched Chinese food for him when I'd reminded her time and time again that he was Japanese. My face flushed in embarrassment, ready to avenge my wronged friend, when he smiled and nodded. "Very good, Mrs. Rey. Like home." I quickly pressed my lips together and let Ryo ride out the awkwardness, when a knock sounded loudly from the front door. "I'll get it," I volunteered quickly, feeling a few pairs of eyes on me before Ryotaro distracted them.

Two grim faced men with ties and dress shirts were there to greet me, one holding up a badge. Detectives. "Is this the Rey residence? We're here to speak with Hunter."

I got that sudden feeling of guilt, wondering what I'd done wrong that could've possibly landed me in this situation. But there was nothing to fear - - I was fine. I took a deep breath, nodding a little. "You found him. How can I... help?"

"Do you know a Mr. Jack Carson? We have eyewitnesses stating that you've been seen together, more specifically fighting in a bathroom on campus."

People had seen us fighting? That must've been the time Ryo saw us. Jesus he was going to kill me if he knew the police knew. And oh god, what had he gotten himself into this time? From the way he acted and how little self control he had, it almost didn't surprise me that he was in trouble with the police.

"... Yeah. I know him. Haven't seen him around lately, though... can I ask, why you're asking me this stuff?"

One officer shifted his weight onto the other foot, looking at his partner expectantly. "He's been killed."

The world slowed around me, and their next words sank in foggily.

"We're not allowed to release any details, but... god, the poor kid. Blood everywhere."

I looked up at the two of them, horrified, recalling a very bad, bloody dream during the night Ryo and I spent at the cabin.

"That's... wow." I breathed, still reeling in the shock. I'd been taking too long, and my father was now joining me at the door. "What's the problem here, fellas? Need my boy for something?"

"We just have a few questions for him, sir." Neither of the two seemed rushed or concerned, like asking me these questions was all part of the mundane process. "What caused the fight between you and Mr. Carson?"

I froze immediately, and the expression on my face caught them off guard. At once their gazes were hardened, like they'd cracked some real headway into the case. "It was... awhile ago. I barely remember."

They knew I was lying, and I silently pleaded with them to realize why, with an overprotective, godfearing man standing behind me.

"You gotta 'remember', Hunter. If you prefer, we can always do this down at the station." Yes!

"Nonsense," barked my dad, his hand slapping down on my shoulder, startling me. "Hunter's never done any wrong. He's got nothing to hide. Tell them, Hunter." He squeezed hard, and I felt all that good rapport between my father and I destroyed just seconds after the words left my mouth.

"We... were... kissing."

The police officers looked a little shocked, but it'd be such an outrageous thing to lie about. I felt the strong hand slip off my shoulder, slowly, and I swallowed the lump in my throat before continuing. "He didn't want anyone to know, about us... and my friend walked in on us. Jack went crazy, threatening him, and so I stood up to him..." And then the mirror broke inexplicably. But I couldn't say that, could I? "He took it out on the mirror. After that, I didn't keep in contact with him." He was dead, presumably covered in blood, and he could've broken the mirror without directly cutting himself, right? Fuck, what was I doing lying to officers?

They didn't seem concerned about the mirror, asking instead, "No further contact? Can you verify where you were December 14th, 3:22pm?"

December 14th... such an obscure day... no, maybe it wasn't.

"I was hiking that day. With my friend. I remember the ticket stub we got after entering the park. December 14th."

"We'll go over to the park to affirm this in their records. And was this the same friend that'd caught you and Mr. Carson - - Jack, in the bathroom?"

My father was deadly silent, and I was really worried, moreso than I was about the current situation. "Yeah. Ryotaro. We were hiking together."

The two looked to each other before relaxing, as if they hadn't just torn a family apart. "Right, well that's all we need from you. We'll visit you if anything turns up, or we need to speak with you again. Is this your permanent address?"

I dared not look at my father. "No, I'm in an apartment now. Lemme give you the address."

I didn't go back to my dad's after that. I ushered Ryotaro and I out of there as soon as the detectives left. I told him everything, about how Jack had been found killed, how I confessed in front of my Dad that we had that kind of relationship. Things pretty much confirmed when we weren't invited for dinner the next Sunday. My own father couldn't even look at me. With nothing to tie me down here, after graduation I looked for a residency program in Japan, joining Ryotaro to start our new life together.