to greater things beyond the unknown||RK96000||

Chapter 19: Gods At War

ao3 - RK96000

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Living at the Kunimi household for the past few weeks has been like a dream come true- it feels strange to live without the silence stagnating around him when he doesn't have to count down the days until he has to leave, knowing he can stay as long as he needs.

Akira isn't as loud as he remembers Natsu being but Shouyou makes up for it tenfold, eagerly rushing to fill any silence with half-baked thoughts blurted out, (if it was silent, it was like he was back home).

But even though he knows that makes him weak, Akira's parents don't ever raise a hand against him or belittle his interests or threaten him or even ignore him for weeks on end-

Huh.

Shouyou hadn't realized just how bad everything his mother has done (and will do, his mind warns traitorously- but that part of his life was over, wasn't it?) actually sounded.

Compared to his mother, Akira's parents are angels.

Akira's mother, Ayame, actually has a familiar bad habit of overworking herself at her job, returning home with a withdrawn gaze that never fails to brighten whenever she sees Akira (and, oddly enough, Shouyou, too).

When he hesitantly reaches out and helps her prepare dinner that night, as he has almost every day for the past few weeks, all he's doing is awkwardly chopping potatoes and carrots into chunks as she listens to him ramble in wandering circles about his day- but the resulting smile leaves her a sun-blessed god, bringer of hope and salvation.

Shouyou smiles back.

(He doesn't deserve it.)

And yet, there's something about the way she treats him that makes him wonder if he really deserved everything his mother put him through when even strangers treated him with more kindness.

(A spark of defiance lies underneath, unbidden and unneeded- but only for now.)

Shouyou's gaze slips towards the clock just as it ticks towards 5:41 PM, and, just as he had hoped, the sound of a door clicking open and then shut can be heard.

Akira's mother brightens instantly.

After ruffling his hair, she rushes off to greet her husband with idle chatter and the sound of their warm laughter far away leaves Shouyou unsure if he was warmed or not (he didn't belong here, their laughter wasn't for him, and yet-).

That was another weird development, though, although not entirely unexpected- while Shouyou knew he was maybe a tiny bit touch-starved (at least, according to the expertise of every single one of his friends), he had never thought a mother's touch could feel so warm.

As Shouyou settles down in his usual seat (and it sends a rush of giddiness through him to know that this was his spot), he stays silent, even when he would normally spout off a hundred thoughts.

Tonight, he watches.

This marks the day when exactly two weeks have passed since he's unofficially moved out of his mother's apartment.

And, while it would normally be cause for celebration, Tooru is coming over later for something less pleasant- something he's been dreading and putting off thinking about for almost an entire week.

Still, at least Shouyou has this- idle chatter about everything and anything, easy laughter and questions, and a bowl of curry before him, awkwardly chopped potatoes and carrots and all.