Title: Get Rhythm
Author: Wolfram003
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Child abuse, a bit of cursing, angst.
Pairing: Shinji/Kamio/Shinji (in later chapters)
Length: 5,266 words; 12 pages.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Konomi Takeshi. I'm just borrowing them to torture for a while.
Summary: Kamio has been having family problems for a while, but they finally escalate to the point where he is purposely injured. How will Kamio, Shinji, and the rest of Fudomine's team cope?
A/N: I'm shocked an appalled that I'm writing this, but I really like it. Perhaps that's the reason why I keep getting nicknamed after sadistic characters? Anyway—here's the next chapter, complete with flashbacks.
"Stuff typed like this" -- Shinji's mumblings.
Get Rhythm
by Wolfram003
Shinji sat next to the hospital bed, watching the fluid of the nearby IV drip steadily. He shifted his gaze to the sleeping occupant of the bed. Once the doctors had told Kamio that he could sleep if he wished to, the redhead had promptly closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless rest, thanks in part to the painkillers he had been given by the doctor.
Earlier in the morning when they had first arrived and Kamio had been forced to stay awake, the other boy had thanked him profusely for so many hours for taking him away from his house that Shinji had finally worked up the irritation to tell him to stop saying such a thing. He had calmly explained that he would always be there when the redhead needed him. Shinji had been—was still—quite adamant about his decision; he would never allow Kamio's father to lay a hand on his friend again.
Friend—Kamio was probably the one person Shinji could categorize in such a way. Everyone else was merely a teammate, rival, acquaintance, or stranger. Yes, Kamio was his friend.
However, lately Shinji had been feeling odd around the other boy. The violet-haired teenager had just come to understand his emotions a few days before this incident occurred. He had been shocked. His mind had dwelled on his discovery since it had been made, and the dark-eyed boy was almost positive that the redhead had heard some of his more private thoughts. He just couldn't control his mumbled contemplations half of the time. The point was—
He, Ibu Shinji, was attracted to Kamio Akira.
Now, he didn't see this as a bad thing, but he didn't want it to throw their friendship into disorder. Shinji liked how things were between the redhead and himself. He didn't want anything to change for the worse, so he had decided not to mention his feelings. He was satisfied with just being Kamio's friend.
Yawning quietly, the violet-haired teenager reached up to rub at his eyes. He had been awake since 2:00 this morning, and if the clock on the wall was telling the truth, it was now 10:46 AM. He really didn't mind though. It was nice to know that his friend would be okay. Worry had been eating away at his stomach for most of the morning.
Kamio had been badly injured, and Shinji felt ill just thinking about what the doctors had had to treat him for. A small shudder ran down his spine as he let his gaze slide across the room to where his mother—well, she wasn't really his mother; she was his aunt, but he still thought of her that way—was sleeping on the small couch. A fond smile graced his lips; he hadn't nearly thanked her enough for driving them to the hospital yet.
The doctor had informed them of the redhead's wounds once he had checked Kamio over. He had stated that normally such information would only be released to family of the patient, but it was clear from the redhead's story that his family was the cause of his injuries. Therefore he felt obligated to tell the Ibu pair instead, since they brought him in. Shinji had seen his mother's worried glance in his direction as he refrained from mumbling while the doctor spoke, but he had chosen to ignore it.
"Akira-kun is covered in bruises, most likely caused by the attack from his father. His right shoulder is severely bruised. However, nothing was broken or torn, so it should heal well enough." The doctor had paused then, reaching up to adjust his glasses before glancing down at his clipboard once more. "He had two broken ribs which we have already taken the time to set and wrap. He'll probably need quite a bit of rest before he really feels up to doing anything."
Those had been his friend's lighter injuries, and Shinji had—still—nearly shuddered at the thought of how much agony just those must have caused the redhead. Kamio must have had a huge tolerance for pain. Either that or, as the doctor had told him a few hours ago when he had finally worked up the nerve to ask, his friend had already started falling into shock by the time Shinji had arrived at his house.
He turned his gaze back to his teammate, longing to reach out and brush the crimson strands away from his forehead but refraining from doing so. Out of all the people Kamio could have called, the redhead had chosen him. His dark eyes softened, adopting a fond glint as he leaned back in his chair, sighing tiredly. Maybe someday he would work up the nerve to tell the other teenager of his feelings, or perhaps he could at least let him know how much it meant that he had called him and not someone else.
The events from earlier continued to replay in his mind.
"...also has a severe concussion. He needs to stay in the hospital for surveillance for a few hours in order for us to make sure his brain hasn't suffered any permanent damage." The doctor had paused at the worried silence from the Ibu family before quickly trying to reassure them, "However, I sincerely doubt there will be any lasting damage from the concussion. Akira-kun does not seem to be having any trouble controlling his motor functions. In fact, he has been quite vocal about wanting to see his friend."
Shinji had looked up at the doctor, startled by the man's statement at that time.
Now, as he looked back on the situation, he really shouldn't have been surprised. There was no doubt in his mind that Kamio had to have been terrified about the whole scenario, and being in a room full of strangers probably hadn't helped him feel any more comfortable. Since he had been allowed into Kamio's hospital room, he'd remained next to him the entire time, staying alert and watching for any sign that showed that the red-haired boy was in pain.
There were a lot of those signs.
"His hands and wrists are covered with lacerations, and there are gouges from the pieces of broken glass that were embedded in his palms. Akira-kun is also suffering from severe blood loss; one of the cuts on his left wrist was deep enough to slice his main artery. We've put in stitches to help hold the deeper wounds closed, and we've bandaged his wrists." The doctor paused again, sighing, "However, I feel the need to inform you that if you had not brought him here when you had, Akira-kun most likely would have bled to death before five o'clock this morning."
Shinji vaguely remembered the panic that had surged through him after the doctor's words. His mind had blanked out for a brief moment, and somehow he had been sitting down in a chair when he came to. His mother had fussed over him, telling him how worried she had been when he had gone as white as a sheet, and the doctor had asked him a few questions with a worried tone, but Shinji didn't quite remember how he answered them.
He had never felt so scared in his entire life. Questions had—still—kept running through his mind: What would have happened if he hadn't answered the phone? Would Kamio have tried calling someone else? If he hadn't gone to his house, would the redhead really have... died?
He still felt light-headed and sick when he thought about it.
"Finally, Akira-kun's ankle is in bad shape. It is a compound fracture, and an operation is needed to set the bone correctly. However, due to circumstances caused by his other injuries, we will need to complete a blood transfusion before going ahead with the operation."
They had done just that, too.
A bitter feeling had been eating away at Shinji's stomach since he had heard the doctor's words. He hadn't even been able to volunteer to donate his blood. To begin with he was underage, and the AB blood type could not be used to replace the O blood type, even if the O blood type could be used to replace the AB blood type. It wasn't fair.
Nothing was fair about this whole ordeal—Kamio hadn't done anything to deserve this. Shinji scowled down at the speckled tiled floor of the room they were staying in. No one deserved to be the victim of such pointless violence.
The violet-haired teenager could attest to that. He had been the victim of such abuse earlier in his life. That was the very reason he lived with his aunt at the moment.
His aunt—no, his mother—had taken him away from that awful place when he was around eight years old and had welcomed him into her nice, warm, safe home. She had cared for him and had started to worry when he had begun mumbling so much, but she had slowly grown used to it. Now she worried when he didn't mumble.
A sad smile tugged at his lips. Yes, he could relate to his friend's situation very well.
"Akira-kun is doing just fine, though we ran a bit short on blood during the transfusion." At Shinji's raised eyebrow, the doctor continued, "We used the last of the O type blood to help him. The hospital blood bank was already running low on the O type, so we gave him as much as we could. However, that was not as much as he needed, so it is advised that he refrains from doing anything remotely stressful for a few days so his blood count can rise. Does he have a place to rest tomorrow?"
Ibu-san nodded, "He can stay with us. He'll be safe there."
"I know that I told you earlier that Akira-kun would only need to stay a few hours, but it's been decided that he'll need to stay overnight in the hospital, Ibu-san. We want to make sure that no complications occur with the transfusion."
Shinji distantly noticed that he was listing sideways toward the hospital bed. As his head landed on the white pillows next to a head of crimson hair, he found that he didn't mind in the slightest. He was tired, and Kamio probably wouldn't mind.
His dark eyes slowly shut and darkness silenced his thoughts.
Shinji awoke to the sound of quiet whispers that instantly hushed as his eyelids fluttered. After a moment, his eyes slid open halfway, and he squinted as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Soon, the distinct blur of sleep cleared from his vision, and he quickly sat up as he noticed Kamio watching him.
"Sumimasen."
He turned away, bringing up a hand to rub at his eyes while he attempted to cover his slight blush of embarrassment. The violet-haired boy really hadn't expected his friend to wake up before he did. Then his sleep-dazed mind finally realized something.
Kamio was awake!
"Don't apologize, Shinji. You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't mean to wake you up," his red-haired friend said with a frown. Shinji turned his gaze on the other boy, all traces of his blush gone from his features. He blinked as his tired mind tried to process the other boy's words.
Then he noticed how dark the room had become. When had that happened? How long had he been asleep? "What time is it?"
Kamio blinked and tilted his head, glancing at the other side of the room and squinting slightly. Then he turned to face the violet-haired boy, and Shinji became oddly aware of how the redhead's deep blue eyes glimmered in the dim light. "It's almost three in the morning."
Shinji dropped his gaze to the floor, studying it with a raised eyebrow, "Three in the morning? Wasn't it almost eleven in the morning when I went to sleep in the first place? I wonder how I managed to sleep so long. I can't believe no one even tried to wake me up. That's rather strange..."
Beside him, his red-haired friend raised an eyebrow. A fond smile tugged at his lips, and he spoke quietly, "At least you're mumbling again. Your mom was worried about you."
The violet-haired boy glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
Kamio blushed and ducked his head, "I, uh... I was worried about you too, Shinji. You mom and the doctor both told me that you had something like a small panic attack when you heard that I would have..." He swallowed, and his voice was tight when he continued, "That I would have died if you hadn't come to get me."
The tensai watched in silence as the other boy reached up and began picking at the sleeve of his hospital gown. When his dark eyes focused on the slight shaking of the redhead's shoulders, he promptly leaned forward and drew his friend into a comforting—at least Shinji hoped it was comforting—embrace. Screw attempting to hide his feelings from the other boy! Kamio needed reassurance!
He held the other boy tightly, not wanting to let go. Soon, Kamio began sobbing quietly, and the shoulder of Shinji's shirt became rather damp. However, Shinji didn't mind. His friend could cry on him whenever he wanted. He would always be there to listen.
"Kamio, it's okay. You are okay. Don't worry about anything. I'll make sure that this never happens again, so please don't cry. I—"
Shinji choked on his words, feeling tears well up in his own eyes. He swallowed hard and tried to fight them back as he reached up to gently stroke his friend's hair. The gesture seemed to help the redhead calm down, so the violet-haired boy continued to run his fingers through the other teen's crimson locks.
"I-I'm always here if you need me, Kamio. I'm always here, so don't forget that if you ever need to talk or need help or anything of the like. And I know how you feel right now. I really, really do, s-so just remember that if you ever want to talk about it. I—"
Warm tears were trickling down his own cheeks, mingling with his hair just as his red-haired friend's finally subsided.
"T-thanks, Shinji. That really means a lot to me."
Thankfully Kamio hadn't noticed that he had been about to say something else. He shifted his head in hope that his dampened hair would shadow his face as he fought to silence his last words. After a moment, he tried to draw back from the embrace, but the redhead tightened his grip.
"C-could we stay like this for a bit longer? You don't mind, right?"
Of course he didn't mind! If Kamio wanted to hold on to someone, he would gladly let the other boy continue embracing him. It seemed to be helping the redhead relax, so Shinji didn't mind at all. He didn't like it when his friend was like this.
It scared him.
Slowly, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around the other boy once more.
Kamio sighed exhaled softly against his shoulder, and Shinji closed his eyes. A peaceful shroud of silence settled over the dark room, and the violet-haired boy was about to make a comment when someone's stomach growled.
Shinji blinked, and Kamio abruptly pulled away from the embrace, blushing as he clutched at his stomach. The redhead gave a pained smile, "Sorry, Shinji. I'm kind of hungry, so your mom went to get me some food. The painkillers they gave me made me sleep through all of the meals."
At least his friend had an excuse for skipping the earlier meals. The dark-eyed boy subtly wrapped an arm around his own stomach, attempting not to wince at the weird noises it had begun to make at the word "food." He glanced up to see the redhead smiling at him, and he raised an eyebrow in response.
"Your mom said she was getting you something to eat, too."
Shinji blinked. That was really thoughtful of her. Why didn't she just wake him up earlier during the normal meal times?
Kamio shrugged in response to his thoughts—the violet-haired boy belatedly realized that he had been mumbling to himself—, frowning, "You wouldn't wake up earlier. We both tried to get you to respond, but you were out like a light. It was really strange, Shinji."
The dark-eyed tensai shrugged.
Just as his red-haired friend opened his mouth to ask a question, Shinji's guardian came back into the room carrying two foam takeout boxes. She smiled at the two boys before promptly handing one container to each of them. "Dinner—actually, I suppose it would be breakfast—is served!"
The boys shared a look before thanking the woman and digging into their meals.
"Thanks, Ibu-san!"
Shinji gave a small smile, "Thank you, 'kaa-san."
Hours later, Shinji sat his desk in his last class of the day, scowling down at the flawed wooden surface. Earlier, his mother had dropped him off at school (read: nearly literally kicked him out of the car when he refused to budge from the passenger seat) after Kamio had finally been released from the hospital. He had wanted to protest, but his mother had already done so much for him.
Plus, there was no way she would let him skip a day of school unless he was one who was laid up with injuries.
She had assured him that she was taking his friend to their house and that he could visit with the redhead when he came home. Frowning, he had reluctantly agreed to attend class. Then his school uniform and his schoolbag had promptly been tossed in his general direction.
Shinji briefly took the time to wonder when she had had the time to retrieve his school things from their house. Then he shrugged. She had probably done it while he had been asleep.
The violet-haired boy glanced up at the clock across the room and nearly smiled. He only had to wait one more minute for the dismissal bell to ring. When it did, he could finally go home.
Then he remembered—
He had to attend tennis club after school.
Fudomine's tensai heard an ominous creak from the pen in his hand as he clenched his fist in frustration. Startled, he quickly placed it flat on his desk. If the writing utensil broke and splashed everything with ink, he would be responsible for cleaning it up, and it would take him even longer to get to his house.
Finally, the bell rang, and the class bowed to the teacher before filing out of the room.
Once out of the classroom, Shinji pushed through the sea of students and made his way outside. He took a deep breath of the fresh air before walking toward the locker room. Hopefully tennis practice wouldn't be too boring; perhaps he could play Tachibana. He would have to ask.
Suddenly, he frowned and sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth as he walked into the small room of rusted metal. Shinji decided that it was probably a good thing that he was the first person there when his thoughts began spilling from his mouth. Yes, he affirmed in his thoughts as he sat down on a bench and put his face in his hands; it was a great thing that no one was in the room.
"Am I supposed to tell Tachibana-san? Does Kamio even want me to tell Tachibana-san? It's a very personal situation, after all. If it was me, I wouldn't want anyone to know, but Kamio's nearly my exact opposite. I'm confused. What do I do? It wouldn't be right for us to keep practicing like we have been when we'll have to drop out of the tournament anyway. This is—"
"Shinji!"
The violet-haired boy started at the sharp tone of his captain's voice. He hadn't expected anyone to walk in during his rant, much less Tachibana. Deciding to avoid the older boy's stare, he kept his face in his hands. He didn't want to explain anything.
He heard a heavy sigh and felt the bench shake slightly as Tachibana sat beside him. Distantly, Shinji heard the rest of the team preparing for practice. He didn't want to practice.
"Shinji, do you mind informing me about the reason Fudomine will 'have to drop out of the tournament'?" Tachibana's voice sounded wary. Shinji could nearly bet that his captain was already guessing at what he meant by those words. Perhaps he could figure it out on his own.
The violet-haired tensai nodded. Yes, he did mind. In fact he'd most likely wind up having another slight panic attack if he dwelled on Kamio's situation for too long.
Shinji heard another sigh as he continued to hide his face. He heard the sounds of his teammates quiet down as they turned their curious gazes onto the strange scene occurring in the corner of the room. The violet-haired boy knew he was acting strange, but he had his reasons.
Slowly, he felt the oldest member of the team tug his hands away from his face. Tachibana tilted his chin up and to the side in order to force their eyes to meet. "Shinji, please tell me what you were talking about."
Shinji scowled; he didn't like how this was playing out.
When he refused to answer again, Tachibana frowned at him.
"Shinji, if this is important to the team, I need to know what you are talking about."
Great—he was being guilt-tripped by his upperclassman. Tachibana and the rest of the tennis club were watching him, waiting for an answer. Frowning, he reached up and forced his captain to release his chin and promptly looked away before letting out a quiet sigh.
"We don't have enough players for the tournament, Tachibana-san. That's the reason Fudomine has to drop out."
Silence met his quiet, nonchalant-sounding comments.
"What do you mean 'we don't have enough players,' Shinji?" Sakurai Masaya asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Yeah, we have enough players, even if Kamio's not here today," Ishida Tetsu added as he reached up to tighten his white bandana.
The room was silent for a moment as Shinji's words and Kamio's absence finally clicked together in everyone's minds. Shinji sighed. Technically, he didn't tell anyone the main details, so maybe his red-haired friend wouldn't be mad at him.
"Did—" Tachibana's steady voice shook for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, "Did something happen to Kamio-kun?"
Shinji nodded.
"Is that the reason you said Fudomine had to drop out of the tournament?" Mori Tatsunori asked hesitantly with a worried frown.
He briefly bowed his head once again.
Uchimura Kyosuke asked the next question, tilting his hat forward slightly, "How badly is he hurt?"
Shinji glanced over at the shorter boy, scowling. Apparently Uchimura had noticed that the others had only been asking questions that required a 'yes' or 'no' answer. He let out a quiet breath.
"Very badly." The violet-haired boy tensed slightly before continuing in a quiet, hesitant voice, "...Kamio has a bruised shoulder, two broken ribs, and many other cuts and bruises. He had a severe concussion, and the wound on his wrist had to be stitched shut..."
He felt Tachibana start next to him as shocked silence settled over the group. Glancing around the room, he saw the horrified expressions of the team. He blinked a few times as he went over what he had said aloud.
Oh. They must have gotten the wrong idea. He'd have to clear that up soon.
"His ankle's broken too. It was a compound fracture, and surgery was necessary to set the bone. Kamio's fine now, even if he is a bit scared of what could have happened. I don't really think the doctors should have told him that. I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel to be told that you would have died if you hadn't been brought to the hosp—"
Realizing the words that had just spilled from his mouth, Shinji paled drastically. He felt his stomach lurch and quickly dashed to the bathroom, leaving his confused teammates behind. The violet-haired boy had just made it to the toilet when his stomach promptly emptied itself of its contents into the porcelain bowl. He gagged and coughed, trying to hold his hair back from his face as he vomited.
Small tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he fought to fill his lungs with air.
He hadn't been this violently ill from nerves in a long time. Of course, he hadn't been this stressed in a long time, either.
Shinji's stomach lurched again, and he placed his hands on the rim of the white toilet seat as he felt someone pull his hair away from his face. The violet-haired boy wasn't sure whether he should feel grateful for the help or embarrassed that someone was seeing him in such a state. After his stomach settled a bit, he reached up and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his school uniform.
He didn't care what he got on it. He had to wash the clothes anyway.
"Are you alright, Shinji?"
Oh, so it was Tachibana that came after him. He should have been able to guess that. None of the others really knew him well enough to do such a thing.
Did he look like he was "alright"? Shinji certainly didn't feel well. He thought that should be obvious.
Behind him, Tachibana shifted and cleared his throat as he released the tensai's violet hair. "I'm sorry, Shinji. That was a rather obvious question on my part."
Oh. Shinji blinked a few times before reaching over and flushing the toilet. Had he asked that aloud?
"Yes."
Pressing an arm against his stomach, he drew himself to his feet. Tachibana gripped his shoulders in an attempt to steady him as he staggered. After a few moments of standing still, Shinji pushed past his captain and out of the small cubicle before making his way to the sink.
He turned on the tap and let the water run until all traces of rust were gone and the liquid was clear. Cupping his hands under the water, he captured a bit and brought it to his mouth before swishing it around and spitting it into the sink. Then he splashed his face a few times and dried his skin with the sleeves of his uniform.
Shinji nearly started as he caught sight of his reflection. No wonder Tachibana had come to check on him. He looked awful.
He felt awful, too.
He reached forward and turned off the faucet, sighing. Now he would have to explain himself. There was no way he could possibly avoid telling the team, so hopefully Kamio would forgive him if he didn't want the others to know. Though, come to think of it, it would be fairly obvious to anyone who saw Fudomine's vice-captain that something had happened to the redhead.
The violet-haired boy jumped slightly when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He glanced to the side and raised a slim eyebrow at Tachibana as the older boy began leading him back to the locker room. Why was he leading him there? The dark-haired boy had to know that he didn't want to talk about the subject any longer.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, Shinji. However, we're all a bit confused by what you told us, so you really need to clear things up for the team," Tachibana spoke solemnly as they made their way into the locker room once again. The captain of Fudomine's tennis club released his shoulder and sat down on the bench, and Shinji hesitantly sat beside him.
He bowed his head in hopes that his hair would shadow his face as he waited for someone to say something.
Beside him, Tachibana shifted slightly and asked seriously, "If you have any questions, you need to ask them now. This subject will not be brought up again after today. Understood?"
The team nodded as one, and Mori spoke up, "How was Kamio injured?"
Shinji blew out a small breath, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, "He tried to distract his father from hurting his mother. His dad hurt him. His dad almost kill—" He silenced himself as his stomach lurched ominously once again.
The room was silent, and Tachibana gripped his shoulder again as if to show his support.
"His mom left without helping him, and he called me at one o'clock in the morning. Kamio sounded so scared, and I was really worried. I guess I had every reason to be worried..."
He swallowed a few times before continuing, "He was so pale when I got to his house, and he was covered in blood. He looked terrible, and he had a really bad concussion, too. I-I..."
His stomach clenched, and the violet-haired boy bit his lip at the unpleasant sensation. He tilted his head slightly to glance at his captain, "I-I really don't want to talk about this, Tachibana-san."
Fudomine's captain seemed startled by his admission before frowning. "I'm sorry, Shinji. You can breeze over the details, if you wish. No one will mind."
Shinji let his gaze drop to the floor once again. The room was deathly silent as everyone waited for him to continue. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and swallowed hard.
Why didn't anyone understand that he didn't want to talk about this at all?
"We—'kaasan and I—took him to the hospital around two o'clock yesterday morning, and we were there until right before school started. He had to have a blood transfusion because the cut on his wrist was deep—"
He glanced up briefly and frowned at his teammates' expressions. At that moment, he decided that he should clear up any misunderstandings that his words had caused. Scowling, he spoke angrily, "He cut it on a broken beer bottle when he fell. He didn't do it on purpose. I thought you guys had more faith in him than that."
Shinji felt his words were entirely justified once the team ducked their heads in embarrassment.
"'kaasan didn't want to take any chances by letting him go home by himself, so he's staying at my house, just so you know. He'll probably be there a while. I don't want him to go back when that might happen again. He could've d-died..."
The violet-haired teenager reached up to cover his face as his voice trembled on his last word. He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to gather his composure and scrubbed the dampness from his eyelashes. Sighing, he quietly stated, "And that is why Fudomine needs to drop out of the tournament. Is that a decent reason, Tachibana-san?"
He glanced up to see everyone nod as one.
"Good," he stated clearly as he stood from the bench, shrugging his captain's hand from his shoulder in the process. Walking toward the door, he muttered, "I hope you'll forgive me for skipping practice, Tachibana-san. I'm not feeling well."
That said, he pushed open the door and left the locker room, pretending not to notice as the team followed him home.
To be continued...
Glossary of Terms:
tensai— literally "prodigy" or "genius."
-san— Suffix used to show respect.
Sumimasen— formal way of saying "Excuse me." or "I'm sorry."
'kaasan— Mom.
Please, if you read that massive thing, comment! It really means a lot.
--Wolfram003--