What is Family? by Hoshiko - Part 4
I was walking up the stairs to the second floor, having to step over yet another broken step no doubt caused by Furusawa-sempai, when I noticed something odd. It wasn’t something I had particularly paid attention to before, but for some reason I happened to at that moment.
Like in any school anywhere you might happen to be, there were the usual, well, clumps, I suppose, of students standing around and talking. That was not unusual; after all, human beings are social animals - it says so in my psychology text.
What was unusual was the way the little clusters were formed…it made me think of some nature documentary a bit; the way a herd of antelope or gazelle will instinctively surround their young to protect them from any sort of danger.
Or maybe, I thought, starting up the second landing, it was more like in those old American westerns where the pioneers would form those funny little wagons of theirs into a circle for protection during an attack.
Whatever the cause, I couldn’t help but smile. No matter how much humans may pride themselves on being a technologically advanced race, old instincts die hard.
Shaking my head, I wound my way through the obstacle course of human bodies that is a school dorm at any time of day, and with a faint feeling of relief, opened the door to my room.
Long experience had taught me to always look down before entering my room. After that first, and hopefully the only time I had accidentally trod upon my roommate… well, it was not something I would care to repeat.
I will say this though; Suka has a wonderful set of lungs. Students all the way on the other side of Greenwood heard his scream.
Satisfied that I was not about to literally walk all over my roommate, I glanced up and grinned when I realized he was slumped over a pile of homework at the desk.
Common sense dictated that I should have been slaving away at my own private little mountain range of homework as well, but as I have often heard it said, common sense and myself do not mix well.
Plopping myself down on my bunk, I reached behind me and rooted around in the little bookcase there until I found what I wanted, the newest edition of my favorite manga publication. Flipping it to the page where I’d last left off I immersed myself in the story, oblivious of my surroundings.
Oblivious that was, until Suka threw his pencil down in frustration and gave that little groan of his that told me that he desperately wanted to keel over and die.
Sighing, I set aside my manga and turned my head so that I was staring at his back. He was holding his head in his hands, elbows planted on the desk, staring blankly, or so I assumed, at the papers in front of him. It was a sight that I had long grown used to as his roommate.
Taking a closer look, I sighed to myself as I recognized the stubborn set to his shoulders – I would have to be the one to start the conversation. Again, something I had gotten used to. Sitting up, I turned to face him, knowing that eventually he would turn around in his chair to look at me.
It was almost like a ritual between us; he would keep everything bottled up inside until it came to a boil, and I would coax whatever was bothering him out into the open. Then we would examine it together like a pair of scientists, until we had taken it apart down to the molecular level and it was no longer a problem to either of us.
“Suka, is something wrong?” I asked, although only someone who was half-blind and stupid would have thought otherwise.
I watched his shoulders tense, counting the seconds ticking by in my head as I waited patiently. If this was a ritual, then there were set rules that went along with it.
Half a minute later, his whole body just seemed to…sag.
I felt my eyes narrow. Things weren’t going the way they should have, and that worried me. Usually by that time, he would have turned around to face me and started ranting. When he just sat there, looking so lost, I wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“Suka?”
Standing up, I walked over to the desk and crouched beside him, looking up into his face. Where his body language said he was uncertain of what to do, where to go next, his eyes told a different story. They were filled with hurt, and something like betrayal.
“Suka, what’s wrong? Tell me, please!” I begged, catching hold of his shirtsleeve, imploring him with my own eyes to look at me dammit, to say something, anything.
Frantically I ran through the events of the past week, trying to figure out what could possibly have made Suka like this, when I felt my blood go cold.
“Is this about that fight you had with Mitsuru-sempai? Did he do something to you? If he did-”
Certain that something had happened between them while I had been out reaching some sort of stupid epiphany, I got to my feet and started towards the sempai’s room, hands clenched into fists at my side.
All I could think was that if, somehow, Mitsuru-sempai had hurt Suka, I would make him sorry he had ever done it.
Looking back on it now, I am indescribably glad that Suka stopped me when he did. It was as if all rational thought had fled the moment I suspected Mitsuru-sempai was the cause of Suka’s distress.
If, by some miracle, I’d managed to provoke a fight between Mitsuru-sempai and myself, there was no possible way I could have beaten him. And then there would have been Shinobu-sempai to contend with as well.
The only thing that mattered was Mitsuru-sempai had done, or said, something to Suka to make him feel like this, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.
Like I said, rational thought had all but abandoned me by then. I was left with a sudden, inexplicable need to protect my friend.
“Shun, wait!”
Startled by Suka’s outburst, I whirled around to see this strange, wavery little smile on his face.
“Do you honestly think that you could take on Mitsuru in a fight, and live?”
I blinked, suddenly realizing the folly of my recklessness. I felt my eyes widen as I, quite vividly, visualized the outcome of such an event between Mitsuru-sempai and myself. Shuddering, I slowly walked over to Suka where I sat on my heels, somewhat annoyed to see that he was now grinning, some of that amusement reaching his eyes.
“I could have, you know.” I protested sullenly.
Suka graced me with one of his oh-so-elegant snorts of derision.
Glowering now, I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing that it made me look like a petulant child but not really giving a damn at the moment.
“No you couldn’t, but thank you anyway.”
Any residual anger or annoyance I may have felt at that moment faded at Suka’s heartfelt thanks.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with Mitsuru, Shun. It’s something…personal.”
Meeting his eyes, I saw something in them that warned me not to push just then, and I gave in to that silent plea. Whatever it was that was bothering him was something he just wasn’t ready to talk about right then, and I had no choice but to accept that.
I was also somewhat relieved, as well. Although I would have been willing to do it, for Suka’s sake, I didn’t really want to fight Mitsuru-sempai – he is my friend after all.
Nodding, I stood and walked over to the small closet and changed into my pajamas. There was a comfortable silence between us as I climbed into bed, picking up the manga I’d been reading and setting it back in its place in the bookcase. Suka went back to working on his homework and I fell asleep to the soft scratch of graphite on paper interspersed with Suka’s muttered grumbling.
To be continued...