Sleep

Oh, Home, Let Me Come Home, Home is Wherever I'm With You

Bungou Stray Dogs - Ikuma Arishima & Doppo Kunikida

Listening to artists with the same name as you is fun

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One year.

It would be another year before Ikuma could move to Canada.

The multiple background checks, court cases, and custody arrangements needed to be done before Ikuma could live with his mom and stepdad. Which meant he was stuck in Japan, and under the care of Kunikida.

Adding insult to injury, Kunikida had to get his foster license renewed before Ikuma could officially stay with him. That process was expected to take a good few days, leaving Ikuma in an emergency foster placement.

Ikuma couldn't wait to be out of there.

It was late on a Thursday night, Ikuma sitting on the porch of the small foster house. Today marked two weeks since he met Kunikida. Ikuma had slipped outside to watch the sunsets each night, which had become the only way he could tell the days apart from each other.

The last few days had been a blur. Having been placed in a group home meant adjusting to their routines, only to know he'd be taken out of them right after settling in. It meant sleeping on a hard floor, and not being able to sleep with the sounds of other kids' breathing. Eating at scheduled times, and with food he was disgusted by. Sneaking out at night for a few hours of skateboarding with his friends, and, if only for a little bit, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with it.

Ikuma numbly watched the cars driving past on the road, longing for that sense of being behind the wheel and able to go anywhere. His skateboard worked well enough, but could only take him so far.

Ikuma did sit up straighter when the headlights of Kunikida's car pulled into the driveway. He didn't move to stand up, despite having wished to get out of the foster home for the entire time he'd been there.

Kunikida stepped out, looking like the same man Ikuma had met a few weeks earlier. Everything from his clothes to the way he had done his hair was exactly as he remembered him.

"You're going to catch a cold out here, you know that right?" Kunikida spoke, pocketing his keys. 

Ikuma glanced down at his thin hoodie and worn out jeans. "Nah, I think I'm good."

Kunikida nodded towards the house. "How was it?"

Ikuma curled into himself more, if that was even possible at this point. His eyes were set on the concrete laneway. "Fine." It had not been fine.

Ikuma could practically feel Kunikida's tough façade breaking, a concerned look replacing his usual unsmiling and serious one.

"You'll be staying with me now, alright Ikuma? You'll be taken good care of, okay?"

Kunikida's voice would never fail to amaze Ikuma. Strict and rigid one moment, then soft and comforting the next. Ikuma only heard that tone of voice once before, when Kunikida calmed him down after their shouting match at the police station.

Ikuma simply nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything.

"I've got to talk to the foster parents for a bit, but I'll be back soon." Kunikida stepped onto the porch, ruffling Ikuma's brown curls, and heading inside. Ikuma found himself warmed by the touch.

Ikuma knew he was falling into the same pattern: getting attached to someone, then getting his heart destroyed. He had lived it too many times before, and constantly feared the cycle repeating itself. Because after everything, under his sarcastic and sharp comebacks, Ikuma was still just a kid who needed a parental figure in his life.