It Must be Idiocy

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It must be guilt.

That must be why Wakatoshi offered Tendo the guest room. He'd turned on the lights and realized that Tendo was much more bet up than he'd first thought. One of his eyebrows was split and there was a bruise along one of his cheekbones - a purplish red which indicated it was only a day old. Wakatoshi could see scars, some old, some still healing, snaking up his arm, where one of his sleeves had ridden up as he'd carried Wakatoshi to bed.

Tendo eyed him warily at his offer.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because nobody's using it, and you're a guest."

Tendo held his gaze for a little longer, and Wakatoshi stared right back, wondering if there was a better answer he was supposed to give. Then Tendo barked out a laugh and went to inspect the room. He came back out, grabbed the blanket he'd had the night before, and deposited it on the bed. If Wakatoshi hadn't known better, he'd have said that he looked like crying with happiness.

-

Tendo was odd.

There was no pattern to his days; sometimes he'd wake at the crack of dawn with Wakatoshi, others, he'd disappear for the night and sleep at daybreak. Sometimes he made dinner or watch Wakatoshi make it with a kind of lazy interest. Others Wakatoshi would leave leftovers in the fridge. He didn't need to leave a note, Tendo always found them.

Often when he watched Wakatoshi, his eyes lingered on his hands.

He must be very observant, for when he focused on something it was as if his eyes were visibly sharper. He joined Wakatoshi in feeding the fish early on and remembered everything Wakatoshi did for them with apparent ease. He seemed to have a particular fascination with the flowerhorn.

Wakatoshi had brought the flowerhorn only once all of his tanks' ecosystems had perfectly stabilized. He'd brought it home in a clear plastic bag wrapped up in his jacket several months

"It's ugly," Tendo told him after watching Wakatoshi coax it to the surface with a pellet.

"So?" Wakatoshi wasn't going to disagree with him. He could see why the bulbous hump on its head the folded wrinkled skin around its mouth could seem ugly, but that was just how that particular fish looked. He watched it swallow the pellet and placed a finger near the glass. The fish swam over to it to investigate. Usually, Wakatoshi did this to lead it to more food, now he wanted to show Tendo how... Cute, he supposed was the word, this fish could be.

It was an odd impulse, considering that people liked different things and that was inevitable and also okay, but Wakatoshi wanted to justify himself.

"It follows." Tendo leaned closer to the glass. Wakatoshi opened his mouth to tell him not to tap on it, but Tendo placed his finger by Wakatoshi's. Wakatoshi started and made to move his hand away, but Tendo linked his pinkie with Wakatoshi's thumb.

"It won't follow my finger." He said.

Wakatoshi wasn't sure if this was fact or speculation but opened his mouth to tell him that it would follow anything that moved outside the glass by instinct.

Tendo's hand was warm. His skin was dry and smooth, his grip gentle, almost insubstantial, and yet somehow difficult to pull away from. He led their hands down to the bottom of the tank and the fish followed.

"Oh, it is pretty cute." He said, leaning casually into Wakatoshi as he guided their hands back to the top of the tank.

The fish soon lost interest, yet Tendo did not let go.

"Let's watch a movie or something." He said.

Wakatoshi went to say that he had other things to do, but again the words did not seem to come. At least his silence was not uncharacteristic.