KNB: Knuckles (NijiHimu)

Two

TWO

"Ugh. That brat never did change. He'd always have a knack of getting himself and others into trouble." Nijimura feels the soft cushion of Himuro's couch. The master of the house arrives with supplies, and slightly giggles at the sight of his friend's body lying in an awkward position. The two based their retreat on Himuro's house, as it is just a couple of blocks away from where their fight with Haizaki occurred.

Nijimura completely ignores the searing pain that is starting to form at his nape and looks around the room. The house is pretty much average in size but the internal design is inspired from Western culture. "Nice house you got here," he murmurs out of nowhere, but is enough to be heard Himuro.

"Thanks," he replies, coupling it with a gentle smile.

"Although, I thought you lived in Akita..." Nijimura wonders, sitting properly on the couch.

"This was my home before I went to America when I was six. We also have a home there in Akita. I decided to study there because Yosen offers a Western curriculum. That means I didn't have to adjust as much as I would have to back in Yosen," Himuro courtly replies.

He puts down a First Aid Kit on the table. Nijimura simply eyes the other male as he opens it and takes out a few supplies.

"Shuu, your hand," Himuro suddenly calls out, his hand extending to the other male.

"What for?"

Himuro lets out a chuckle. "What else do you think? We're gonna treat it."

"Huh?" Nijimura raises his hand. "There's nothing wrong with my—" He raises his hand to prove to Himuro that nothing is wrong with it. But, he halts in shock when he finds out that his knuckles are bleeding. "Well shi—" He stops, thinking that he can't curse in front of this good Jesus-loving boy.

Nijimura clicks his tongue, his expression obviously annoyed. Himuro can't help but be amused with the male's actions, letting out a small giggle before taking it to his hands for treatment.

"Tatsuya, shouldn't you be treating your own wounds first?" Nijimura asks, gazing upon his friend as he places the cap of the alcohol back. He could see the smile Himuro is trying to hide, probably from the time where his face scrunched like a prune due to the immense stinging from said cleansing product to his skin.

"Nah, I'm fine..." Himuro shakes his head, his eyes still locked into Nijimura's purpled knuckles. "I'll just sleep it off."

"Huh? Do you hear what you're saying?" Nijimura asks, the volume of his voice increasing. "If I haven't saved you, one more kick from Haizaki and you would've coughed blood."

"I've experienced worse," he defends, the pain in his stomach making itself more evident. He hides his trembling lips with a forced smile.

"It doesn't make it more okay for you to leave your injuries unattended."

"Yes, it does. It simply means that my body is adapted to fighting. It'll heal itself soon."

"Or we'll know that your insides are mashed up a few months later."Nijimura shouts, his voice echoing throughout the empty room. Both males fell silent, and Himuro halts from taking bandages from the kit.

"I-I'm sorry for shouting," Nijimura murmurs, but it was loud enough to be heard by the raven-haired male.

"No," Himuro responds. "It's fine."

—-

It was two sweet years ago when Nijimura first met Himuro. Hours after landing to Los Angeles, he finds his life like a movie. His wallet, passport, and bag were stolen; his phone broken; and he finds himself lost, which was not good for a person who is in a foreign land. He could barely understand and speak English at that time, constantly fussing about how fast these Americans would fire out to speak.