Tea Shops and Tragedies

Kiyotaka and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

A light tapping of a pencil, the soft scratching of fabric rubbing together, a leg bouncing, a soft continuous hum. Each of these a habit brought about by undue amounts of stress. Each of these a distraction. A frustration.

No matter how much he tried, forced, struggled to focus on the material in front of him, the words swirled together, equations and phrases jumbling into meaningless garbage before his eyes. He groaned softly in frustration, dropping his pencil and dragging his hands through his short cropped hair. Every time he tried to force himself to study, to focus on anything, his thoughts would shift slowly to Chihiro. The young boy's expression, full of distress, of heartbreak and betrayal.

Dejected.

His ears would ring with the memory of his words. His lips would tingle softly at the memory of pressure against them.

Why...

It had been a day like any other, a sunny afternoon with nary a cloud in the sky. The current event that was causing such a fuss in his mind began approximately three weeks after the incident at the tea shop. Chihiro spoke nothing more of his breakdown after they returned to the dormitories, his eyes still full of the same soft understanding the day they met. After that occasion, Chihiro began to follow him around like a loyal dog, nipping at his heels. Any time he would be out of class, the young boy would be somewhere nearby, waiting for Kiyotaka to exit, the classes they didn't share, that is. In those they did, Chihiro would move to sit in the nearest available seat, sometimes directly next to him.

At first, it hadn't bothered Kiyotaka. In fact, he rather enjoyed having him around. Chihiro was always smiling, sharing in soft meaningless conversations about whatever technical jargon he had become interested in since the past day or few hours since they had last talked, and likewise would listen uninterrupted to Kiyotaka's spiels about whatever academic fact he had spent the last night furiously reading up on. They still studied quietly in Kiyotaka's room every so often, and he still helped Chihiro with whatever question he could come up with, feeling the heat radiating off his skin when he got close. He still had to ask about that. It seemed that every free moment he had was spent near the tawny haired boy.

At first he hadn't minded.

At first...

But soon his presence became overwhelming. His constant smiling, his cheery laugh, his closeness. It became oh so bothersome. Kiyotaka had found himself bumping into the young man more. Physically. They would just so happen to be reaching for the same thing, their thighs would just so happen to touch when they were seated next to each other, his hand would just so happen to brush Chihiro's as they walked side by side. He would trip over the young boy every now and then if he wasn't specifically watching his step. Chihiro would appear out of nowhere, suddenly right by Kiyotaka, sometimes in front of him, unnoticed, so close their arms almost touching. It seemed to him, the more he tried to get away from the boy, to be alone, the closer and closer Chihiro got. It was so bothersome, so overwhelming, his light touches electrifying his skin, burning him, scorching his nerves, as if his touch was a torch.

But he couldn't say no.

He couldn't say no to the puppy dog eyes, to the pouting lip, to the watery tears, the soft flush of his nose. He couldn't say no to the sad face Chihiro gave him every time he denied 'hanging out'. It made his heart wrench, the feeling more uncomfortable than his burning skin.

Damn his acquiescence.

Why couldn't he have just said no?

If he had just said those two letters that day, maybe the rest of this story would be different.