(Fanfiction) Routine
Apr. 21st, 2008 08:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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skyremixTitle: Routine
Rating: G
Series: Himitsu no Hanazono (Japanese drama)
Characters: Hinata & Takumi
Word Count: 3094
Another Himitsu no Hanazono one. I swear, I must be the only person that writes fanfiction for this drama.
Every morning at 8:34 am, the mail was delivered to the towering apartment of Hanazono Yuriko. The Kataoka family was used to the daily pile of packages and envelopes, love letters and notes that spoke of the general fanatic worship of their family. Having the mail delivered would seem to be an insignificant detail to the family’s everyday life were it not delivered by a certain friend of theirs.
Takumi, in Hinata’s eyes, was nowhere near being a human of advanced thinking - it was true that the youngest Kataoka found the delivery man’s daytime career dull and repetitive, and he had concluded that Takumi’s fate was of his own consequence - had his intelligence been of a higher caliber, he too may have been on his way to an enriching lifestyle. Had this teen had the incentive or the drive, or the longing to commit a great act, or even simply to grow, Hinata was certain that Takumi would not be a part of his everyday life.
He had become so used to the older teen appearing in his daily routine that it was clearly noticeable that something was amiss when Takumi did not appear that morning. Instead, when Hinata checked the small screen to see if that idiot forgot the code to open the door his eyes were met with a much older, much larger, and much harrier man than he had expected to see. Takumi only rang the buzzer when the code number flew from his undersized mind, and Hinata had expected to see the older teen standing in front of the camera in his blue uniform, a postage carrier bag across his shoulder, with a hand rubbing the back of his head and his face displaying a large grin in a complete lack of acknowledgement of his idiocy.
This abrupt change this one morning was enough to have the young teen in wonder of where that idiot could have found himself this time. Takumi had done many stupid things in his short eighteen years, many things so pathetic that Hinata could not look past the utter idiocy to find it amusing. An example of one of these times would be when Takumi’s girlfriend broke up with him, and he had been so lost in his sorrowful thoughts that he collided headfirst into a telephone pole, thus proving that the older teen’s brain had not yet developed to the point where it could control his motor functions and allow him to think at the same time.
Hinata stalked away from the live feed of the hairy delivery man without so much as a second thought, ignoring the buzzing of the doorbell even as one of his brothers stomped past to let the new delivery man inside. Hinata lowered himself into one of the apartment’s armchairs as he hardly acknowledged the sound of the door opening. Wataru, Hinata’s eldest brother, led the man inside to the family room, where he instructed him to place the mail on the coffee table before Hinata, as the man obviously could not discern that for himself, bringing the question of whether or not he was less bright than even Takumi. “Where is Takumi today?” Wataru asked the delivery man, and Hinata tried to hide when his eyes automatically snapped up to the hairy man’s face. His curiosity was not overexerted - as moronic as Takumi was, he was the type of person who found it easy to devote himself to his job.
“Takumi?” The man slowly questioned back, in a rough, burly voice.
“The boy that usually delivers here,” Wataru attempted to explain as he sat next to Hinata, reaching to the pile of mail, bills and fanmail alike.
“I wouldn’t know,” the burlesque man answered, “I’m usually just called in when the other guys are out.”
The young teen was aware of his eldest’s brother’s sideward glance toward him before Wataru smiled and thanked the delivery man, dismissing him. Hinata watched as his brother made a scene of opening all of the mail slowly and tediously, and the young teen wondered what his eldest brother was scheming. Wataru eventually got to his feet and made an effort of stretching, before declaring his need of sustenance. Hinata’s eyes did not stray from following Wataru even as he heard a bellowing scream of “Bring me a banana!” from the studio.
The young teen removed himself from the armchair when his brother disappeared around the corner that led to their kitchen, glancing at a pile of letters, all with doodles of some kind marring their surfaces, addressed to him. As he heard the wireless telephone beep each time his brother’s finger connected with a key, Hinata sighed and began to trudge along slowly to the studio room. He could afford to take his time - his work was ahead of schedule as of late, and he was certain that even if he refrained from writing for a few days, his brothers would have an adequate amount of material to work with. He was just about to pull open the thick door, his hand poised on the doorknob, when Wataru’s voice stopped him by speaking his name. He heard the final beep as his brother hung up, and he waited until the older man joined him in the hallway. Wataru smiled at him and handed him a piece of paper. Hinata skeptically scanned the chicken scratch on the paper in his hand before looking at Wataru with questioning eyes. “An address?”
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” The older man asked softly with a warm smile on his face. Hinata vaguely wondered how the man always seemed so genuinely kind even as he scoffed and said, “Why should I be?” He shoved the paper in his pocket and entered the studio room, ducking as Osamu threw himself at Wataru to take the banana from his hands. Hinata seated himself in his respective corner, booting up his computer even as he felt three pairs of eyes on him. Blatantly ignoring his brothers, Hinata signed onto his computer.
“Hinatakun,” Satoshi said, breaking the silence. Wordless, Hinata directed his gaze to land on his brother’s face. “You don’t need to do anything today. We have plenty to work off of. Why don’t you take the day off?”
“Visit the aquarium, maybe,” Wataru added in, earning him a small glare from his youngest sibling. “Or the park, its up to you. Just go get some fresh air.”
His brothers were making it very clear that they wanted him out of the studio room. He knew their reasons, he was quite aware that they felt that he should not be spending his teenage years behind closed doors in a stuffy room with his three brothers. The look on Wataru’s face obviously conveyed the message that it was healthy for Hinata to get out once in a while.
The quiet teen sighed and got to his feet, narrowing his eyes at the older men in the room before nodding to Wataru and walking toward the door. He reached it as soon as someone opened it from the other side, and he barely acknowledged Tsukiyama and Tanaka as he brushed past them. Hinata was, for the most part, not comfortable outside of their apartment. He detested crowded areas, large amounts of people, and more recently, fans of Hanazono Yuriko, particularly of the female gender. They did not stray by themselves, they roamed the streets in packs, waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting brothers. Keeping this in mind, he grabbed his white jacket and black hat, as well as Tsukiyama’s tan scarf, before he exited the apartment. The young teen slipped on his jacket and silently prayed that there was not a ridiculous amount of people waiting outside of the building.
To his relief, there were only a few reporters waiting, not enough to mob him, and sensible enough to realize that if he did not answer, he was not going to regardless of how much they bothered him. The teen gave them his ever-present cold shoulder, and they simply turned away and hoped for a more friendly Kataoka to exit the building this time, namely Satoshi. Reporters had trailed Hinata enough to realize that he only ever went to two places when he had a day off - the aquarium and the park. His outside life was in no way intriguing to them.
Once Hinata had gotten closer to the more densely populated areas of the city, he wrapped the scarf around his neck and pulled the cap low, thankful for the chilly weather that backed his hurriedly constructed disguise. He was not in any mood to sit around in the wind on the swing set and allow his ears to turn red, and he did not long to see the dolphins today. For the past few visits, some local schools had been visiting the aquariums, and schools were always full to the brim with girls that knew all of the latests gossip - and the latest gossip involved Hanazono Yuriko. No, he would have to visit the magnificent creatures some other day, when the noise died down. He wished that his favorite place to be had not been tainted by all of the rumors going around.
So then, where would he go? He sighed, and shoved his chilly hands into his pockets. His fingertips brushed a piece of paper that had been crudely placed inside, and he scoffed, ignoring the paper. There was no reason for him to check - Takumi, being the fool that he was, probably just forgot to set his alarm or some other scenario that involved his total lack of intelligence. There was absolutely no reason to go to his apartment.
Some time later, Hinata found himself musing over the possible choices that could have brought him to where he stood now. He himself was not sure how he had gotten there - he knew had just been on a walk, turning every so often, and suddenly the number on the door before him matched the apartment number on the piece of paper he was sure had been in his pocket in the beginning of his walk. He sighed, and nearly turned to walk away when he heard a strange sound, muffled through the door before him. His curiosity piqued, he slowly neared the door again, where he heard the sound once again. It was not a loud sound, muffled and choked, but it had his interest nonetheless. He knocked on the door lightly, and he was surprised when it opened beneath his light touch. That idiot Takumi had not closed his door all the way, however long ago he had entered his own home. Hinata was not surprised.
“I’m coming in,” he called into the small apartment before he rudely honored his words, removing his shoes in the entrance and placing his feet into a pair of unused visitor’s slippers. He made sure that the door was closed and locked behind him, and when he stepped up onto the wooden floor, he heard it again. It was becoming clearer what the sound was, and Hinata followed it through the small, dark hallway and came to a door, half opened.
“Takumi?” He called quietly, aware that it was one of few times he had bothered addressing the older teen directly. His voice was met by more muffled coughing, and Hinata took it upon himself to pull the sliding door open all the way. The sun shone in through two large glass sliding doors and fell upon a shaking mass of blankets lying atop a futon in the corner of the room. The younger teen nearly jumped when the alarm clock next to the pile of blankets abruptly rang shrilly, ruling out the option that Takumi had forgotten to turn his alarm on. Hinata witnessed a hand snaking its way out of the blankets, missing the clock a few times before pushing a button with its middle finger. Then the hand pulled the clock into the abyss of blankets and the younger teen smiled when he heard a muffled cry and saw the blankets start to fly. Oversleeping, that’s all it was. What had Hinata expected?
Takumi emerged from the pile of blankets wearing what Hinata was sure he had been wearing the previous night, save for a jacket that lay crumpled on the floor at the foot of the futon, and their eyes connected as Takumi attempted to place his feet solidly on the floor.
“Katao-” Takumi began before his feet slid on the tangled blankets. Hinata was not exactly sure how he ended up on the floor with the older teen, but he vaguely recalled moving forward without thinking about the consequences. The younger teen pushed Takumi off of him and pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. It was a moment before Takumi too sat himself up, and Hinata was aware that the older boy’s eyes wandered before falling on him. “…Kataoka? Why are you here?” Takumi’s voice was unusually low, as the teen was usually quite vocal, loudly at that. Hinata heard the teen’s voice cracking with the effort of speaking, and he cut off any other questions the older teen may have had with the answer to the first.
“Watarunii made me come.” A statement that was only half true, as Wataru had simply encouraged the visit, and had provided the address. “Where is your bathroom?” Hinata asked, and Takumi answered with a single shaking finger pointing in its direction. The younger teen’s brow furrowed when he saw Takumi’s trembling hand make its way to his own forehead as his eyes closed. Hinata was careful not to trip over the blankets a second time as he stood and followed the direction Takumi’s finger had pointed in. He opened the compartment behind the mirror and peered around the nearly empty medicine cabinet. He found cold medicine, but no thermometer. Takumi was clearly an idiot based on his total lack of concern for his own health. Hinata walked back into the older teen’s bedroom in time to see Takumi’s fingers attempting to tie a drawstring at his waist, and failing. The teen’s balance was wavering once again, and Hinata found himself guiding Takumi to sit back on the futon. “I have to get ready for work,” the older teen said hoarsely, and Hinata scoffed. “Mail’s already been delivered.”
“I have two jobs,” Takumi said, trying to stand again when Hinata countered with, “Then why are you wearing sweatpants?” The older teen appeared dumbfounded and looked at his pants in confusion. The younger boy did not need a thermometer to tell that Takumi had a high fever. He vaguely wondered how many times the alarm had gone off and the ill teen had not heard it. Hinata glanced around the room and was thankful when he spied a stray bottle of water lying on the floor. He handed Takumi the water bottle and two pills from the bottle in his hand, and Takumi took them with a look of confusion on his face. Whether he was still confused by his pants or by this new medicinal mystery, Hinata did not know. Either way, the idiot figured out after a moment that he had to swallow the pills and drink from the bottle, although this conclusion appeared as if it took a lot of effort to come to.
Takumi slowly fell onto his side, and Hinata sighed as he untangled one blanket from the mess on the floor and draped it over the older teen. Takumi’s eyes fell upon him as best they could, as it appeared that he was having difficulty focusing, and his expression turned quizzical. “…how did you get in?”
“Door was open,” Hinata responded, wandering over to a small bookcase - silently surprised that Takumi, the loud and obnoxious idiot he knew so well, took the time from his busy working schedule to read. His fingers brushed the spines of all of the books, one at a time as he read the titles, until he pulled one off of the shelf, alarmed that it was in French.
“…how did I get in?” Takumi inquired, curling up in his blankets. Hinata’s gaze landed on him. “You were like this last night too?” No response to the asked question, but he answered the younger teen’s unspoken inquiry.
“My mother was French,” Takumi spoke, as if that statement explained everything. Hinata turned to book over in his hands, wondering what its contents were. He realized that he thought he had everything pinned down to an understanding of Takumi because he knew what his personality was - but it was clear that Hinata truly knew nothing about the older teen. Yet what Takumi knew of Hinata was a different story. He knew all about Hinata’s past and his secrets, and Hinata knew nothing about him. The younger teen peered over to the other, who now appeared to be lost in slumber once more, and wondered what other mysteries there were to this idiot - this idiot that may have some underlying multilingual genius somewhere inside. He replaced the foreign book onto the shelf and pulled one out that appeared to be in a language he knew and hoped that it would be even vaguely interesting as he sat by Takumi’s futon, leaning his back against the wall.
“Shouldn’t you be getting home?” Takumi asked softly and tiredly, his face half obscured already by the blanket draped over his frame. He began to cough again, and the younger teen waited patiently until the fit subsided before replying.
“I have the day off anyway,” Hinata said in a matter-of-fact tone before concentrating his gaze on the words before him.
Really though, Takumi was far too pathetic to take care of himself at this point. Hinata was sure that had he not found himself here, this fool would either belying in bed the entire day, not getting any healthier because he did not know what medicine controlled what, or he would have gotten out of bed, gone to work possibly half-naked, and then got hit by a car because he was too feverish to tell the grass from the street. And that last scenario was if he made it down his apartment buildings staircase in one piece - a great feat for him on even his healthiest days.
It was strange how a trivial detail such as which idiot delivers the mail could ruin his entire daily routine.
...I was so very tempted to title the cut "The older teen appeared dumbfounded and looked at his pants in confusion." but I couldn't T.T
Rating: G
Series: Himitsu no Hanazono (Japanese drama)
Characters: Hinata & Takumi
Word Count: 3094
Another Himitsu no Hanazono one. I swear, I must be the only person that writes fanfiction for this drama.
Every morning at 8:34 am, the mail was delivered to the towering apartment of Hanazono Yuriko. The Kataoka family was used to the daily pile of packages and envelopes, love letters and notes that spoke of the general fanatic worship of their family. Having the mail delivered would seem to be an insignificant detail to the family’s everyday life were it not delivered by a certain friend of theirs.
Takumi, in Hinata’s eyes, was nowhere near being a human of advanced thinking - it was true that the youngest Kataoka found the delivery man’s daytime career dull and repetitive, and he had concluded that Takumi’s fate was of his own consequence - had his intelligence been of a higher caliber, he too may have been on his way to an enriching lifestyle. Had this teen had the incentive or the drive, or the longing to commit a great act, or even simply to grow, Hinata was certain that Takumi would not be a part of his everyday life.
He had become so used to the older teen appearing in his daily routine that it was clearly noticeable that something was amiss when Takumi did not appear that morning. Instead, when Hinata checked the small screen to see if that idiot forgot the code to open the door his eyes were met with a much older, much larger, and much harrier man than he had expected to see. Takumi only rang the buzzer when the code number flew from his undersized mind, and Hinata had expected to see the older teen standing in front of the camera in his blue uniform, a postage carrier bag across his shoulder, with a hand rubbing the back of his head and his face displaying a large grin in a complete lack of acknowledgement of his idiocy.
This abrupt change this one morning was enough to have the young teen in wonder of where that idiot could have found himself this time. Takumi had done many stupid things in his short eighteen years, many things so pathetic that Hinata could not look past the utter idiocy to find it amusing. An example of one of these times would be when Takumi’s girlfriend broke up with him, and he had been so lost in his sorrowful thoughts that he collided headfirst into a telephone pole, thus proving that the older teen’s brain had not yet developed to the point where it could control his motor functions and allow him to think at the same time.
Hinata stalked away from the live feed of the hairy delivery man without so much as a second thought, ignoring the buzzing of the doorbell even as one of his brothers stomped past to let the new delivery man inside. Hinata lowered himself into one of the apartment’s armchairs as he hardly acknowledged the sound of the door opening. Wataru, Hinata’s eldest brother, led the man inside to the family room, where he instructed him to place the mail on the coffee table before Hinata, as the man obviously could not discern that for himself, bringing the question of whether or not he was less bright than even Takumi. “Where is Takumi today?” Wataru asked the delivery man, and Hinata tried to hide when his eyes automatically snapped up to the hairy man’s face. His curiosity was not overexerted - as moronic as Takumi was, he was the type of person who found it easy to devote himself to his job.
“Takumi?” The man slowly questioned back, in a rough, burly voice.
“The boy that usually delivers here,” Wataru attempted to explain as he sat next to Hinata, reaching to the pile of mail, bills and fanmail alike.
“I wouldn’t know,” the burlesque man answered, “I’m usually just called in when the other guys are out.”
The young teen was aware of his eldest’s brother’s sideward glance toward him before Wataru smiled and thanked the delivery man, dismissing him. Hinata watched as his brother made a scene of opening all of the mail slowly and tediously, and the young teen wondered what his eldest brother was scheming. Wataru eventually got to his feet and made an effort of stretching, before declaring his need of sustenance. Hinata’s eyes did not stray from following Wataru even as he heard a bellowing scream of “Bring me a banana!” from the studio.
The young teen removed himself from the armchair when his brother disappeared around the corner that led to their kitchen, glancing at a pile of letters, all with doodles of some kind marring their surfaces, addressed to him. As he heard the wireless telephone beep each time his brother’s finger connected with a key, Hinata sighed and began to trudge along slowly to the studio room. He could afford to take his time - his work was ahead of schedule as of late, and he was certain that even if he refrained from writing for a few days, his brothers would have an adequate amount of material to work with. He was just about to pull open the thick door, his hand poised on the doorknob, when Wataru’s voice stopped him by speaking his name. He heard the final beep as his brother hung up, and he waited until the older man joined him in the hallway. Wataru smiled at him and handed him a piece of paper. Hinata skeptically scanned the chicken scratch on the paper in his hand before looking at Wataru with questioning eyes. “An address?”
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” The older man asked softly with a warm smile on his face. Hinata vaguely wondered how the man always seemed so genuinely kind even as he scoffed and said, “Why should I be?” He shoved the paper in his pocket and entered the studio room, ducking as Osamu threw himself at Wataru to take the banana from his hands. Hinata seated himself in his respective corner, booting up his computer even as he felt three pairs of eyes on him. Blatantly ignoring his brothers, Hinata signed onto his computer.
“Hinatakun,” Satoshi said, breaking the silence. Wordless, Hinata directed his gaze to land on his brother’s face. “You don’t need to do anything today. We have plenty to work off of. Why don’t you take the day off?”
“Visit the aquarium, maybe,” Wataru added in, earning him a small glare from his youngest sibling. “Or the park, its up to you. Just go get some fresh air.”
His brothers were making it very clear that they wanted him out of the studio room. He knew their reasons, he was quite aware that they felt that he should not be spending his teenage years behind closed doors in a stuffy room with his three brothers. The look on Wataru’s face obviously conveyed the message that it was healthy for Hinata to get out once in a while.
The quiet teen sighed and got to his feet, narrowing his eyes at the older men in the room before nodding to Wataru and walking toward the door. He reached it as soon as someone opened it from the other side, and he barely acknowledged Tsukiyama and Tanaka as he brushed past them. Hinata was, for the most part, not comfortable outside of their apartment. He detested crowded areas, large amounts of people, and more recently, fans of Hanazono Yuriko, particularly of the female gender. They did not stray by themselves, they roamed the streets in packs, waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting brothers. Keeping this in mind, he grabbed his white jacket and black hat, as well as Tsukiyama’s tan scarf, before he exited the apartment. The young teen slipped on his jacket and silently prayed that there was not a ridiculous amount of people waiting outside of the building.
To his relief, there were only a few reporters waiting, not enough to mob him, and sensible enough to realize that if he did not answer, he was not going to regardless of how much they bothered him. The teen gave them his ever-present cold shoulder, and they simply turned away and hoped for a more friendly Kataoka to exit the building this time, namely Satoshi. Reporters had trailed Hinata enough to realize that he only ever went to two places when he had a day off - the aquarium and the park. His outside life was in no way intriguing to them.
Once Hinata had gotten closer to the more densely populated areas of the city, he wrapped the scarf around his neck and pulled the cap low, thankful for the chilly weather that backed his hurriedly constructed disguise. He was not in any mood to sit around in the wind on the swing set and allow his ears to turn red, and he did not long to see the dolphins today. For the past few visits, some local schools had been visiting the aquariums, and schools were always full to the brim with girls that knew all of the latests gossip - and the latest gossip involved Hanazono Yuriko. No, he would have to visit the magnificent creatures some other day, when the noise died down. He wished that his favorite place to be had not been tainted by all of the rumors going around.
So then, where would he go? He sighed, and shoved his chilly hands into his pockets. His fingertips brushed a piece of paper that had been crudely placed inside, and he scoffed, ignoring the paper. There was no reason for him to check - Takumi, being the fool that he was, probably just forgot to set his alarm or some other scenario that involved his total lack of intelligence. There was absolutely no reason to go to his apartment.
Some time later, Hinata found himself musing over the possible choices that could have brought him to where he stood now. He himself was not sure how he had gotten there - he knew had just been on a walk, turning every so often, and suddenly the number on the door before him matched the apartment number on the piece of paper he was sure had been in his pocket in the beginning of his walk. He sighed, and nearly turned to walk away when he heard a strange sound, muffled through the door before him. His curiosity piqued, he slowly neared the door again, where he heard the sound once again. It was not a loud sound, muffled and choked, but it had his interest nonetheless. He knocked on the door lightly, and he was surprised when it opened beneath his light touch. That idiot Takumi had not closed his door all the way, however long ago he had entered his own home. Hinata was not surprised.
“I’m coming in,” he called into the small apartment before he rudely honored his words, removing his shoes in the entrance and placing his feet into a pair of unused visitor’s slippers. He made sure that the door was closed and locked behind him, and when he stepped up onto the wooden floor, he heard it again. It was becoming clearer what the sound was, and Hinata followed it through the small, dark hallway and came to a door, half opened.
“Takumi?” He called quietly, aware that it was one of few times he had bothered addressing the older teen directly. His voice was met by more muffled coughing, and Hinata took it upon himself to pull the sliding door open all the way. The sun shone in through two large glass sliding doors and fell upon a shaking mass of blankets lying atop a futon in the corner of the room. The younger teen nearly jumped when the alarm clock next to the pile of blankets abruptly rang shrilly, ruling out the option that Takumi had forgotten to turn his alarm on. Hinata witnessed a hand snaking its way out of the blankets, missing the clock a few times before pushing a button with its middle finger. Then the hand pulled the clock into the abyss of blankets and the younger teen smiled when he heard a muffled cry and saw the blankets start to fly. Oversleeping, that’s all it was. What had Hinata expected?
Takumi emerged from the pile of blankets wearing what Hinata was sure he had been wearing the previous night, save for a jacket that lay crumpled on the floor at the foot of the futon, and their eyes connected as Takumi attempted to place his feet solidly on the floor.
“Katao-” Takumi began before his feet slid on the tangled blankets. Hinata was not exactly sure how he ended up on the floor with the older teen, but he vaguely recalled moving forward without thinking about the consequences. The younger teen pushed Takumi off of him and pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. It was a moment before Takumi too sat himself up, and Hinata was aware that the older boy’s eyes wandered before falling on him. “…Kataoka? Why are you here?” Takumi’s voice was unusually low, as the teen was usually quite vocal, loudly at that. Hinata heard the teen’s voice cracking with the effort of speaking, and he cut off any other questions the older teen may have had with the answer to the first.
“Watarunii made me come.” A statement that was only half true, as Wataru had simply encouraged the visit, and had provided the address. “Where is your bathroom?” Hinata asked, and Takumi answered with a single shaking finger pointing in its direction. The younger teen’s brow furrowed when he saw Takumi’s trembling hand make its way to his own forehead as his eyes closed. Hinata was careful not to trip over the blankets a second time as he stood and followed the direction Takumi’s finger had pointed in. He opened the compartment behind the mirror and peered around the nearly empty medicine cabinet. He found cold medicine, but no thermometer. Takumi was clearly an idiot based on his total lack of concern for his own health. Hinata walked back into the older teen’s bedroom in time to see Takumi’s fingers attempting to tie a drawstring at his waist, and failing. The teen’s balance was wavering once again, and Hinata found himself guiding Takumi to sit back on the futon. “I have to get ready for work,” the older teen said hoarsely, and Hinata scoffed. “Mail’s already been delivered.”
“I have two jobs,” Takumi said, trying to stand again when Hinata countered with, “Then why are you wearing sweatpants?” The older teen appeared dumbfounded and looked at his pants in confusion. The younger boy did not need a thermometer to tell that Takumi had a high fever. He vaguely wondered how many times the alarm had gone off and the ill teen had not heard it. Hinata glanced around the room and was thankful when he spied a stray bottle of water lying on the floor. He handed Takumi the water bottle and two pills from the bottle in his hand, and Takumi took them with a look of confusion on his face. Whether he was still confused by his pants or by this new medicinal mystery, Hinata did not know. Either way, the idiot figured out after a moment that he had to swallow the pills and drink from the bottle, although this conclusion appeared as if it took a lot of effort to come to.
Takumi slowly fell onto his side, and Hinata sighed as he untangled one blanket from the mess on the floor and draped it over the older teen. Takumi’s eyes fell upon him as best they could, as it appeared that he was having difficulty focusing, and his expression turned quizzical. “…how did you get in?”
“Door was open,” Hinata responded, wandering over to a small bookcase - silently surprised that Takumi, the loud and obnoxious idiot he knew so well, took the time from his busy working schedule to read. His fingers brushed the spines of all of the books, one at a time as he read the titles, until he pulled one off of the shelf, alarmed that it was in French.
“…how did I get in?” Takumi inquired, curling up in his blankets. Hinata’s gaze landed on him. “You were like this last night too?” No response to the asked question, but he answered the younger teen’s unspoken inquiry.
“My mother was French,” Takumi spoke, as if that statement explained everything. Hinata turned to book over in his hands, wondering what its contents were. He realized that he thought he had everything pinned down to an understanding of Takumi because he knew what his personality was - but it was clear that Hinata truly knew nothing about the older teen. Yet what Takumi knew of Hinata was a different story. He knew all about Hinata’s past and his secrets, and Hinata knew nothing about him. The younger teen peered over to the other, who now appeared to be lost in slumber once more, and wondered what other mysteries there were to this idiot - this idiot that may have some underlying multilingual genius somewhere inside. He replaced the foreign book onto the shelf and pulled one out that appeared to be in a language he knew and hoped that it would be even vaguely interesting as he sat by Takumi’s futon, leaning his back against the wall.
“Shouldn’t you be getting home?” Takumi asked softly and tiredly, his face half obscured already by the blanket draped over his frame. He began to cough again, and the younger teen waited patiently until the fit subsided before replying.
“I have the day off anyway,” Hinata said in a matter-of-fact tone before concentrating his gaze on the words before him.
Really though, Takumi was far too pathetic to take care of himself at this point. Hinata was sure that had he not found himself here, this fool would either belying in bed the entire day, not getting any healthier because he did not know what medicine controlled what, or he would have gotten out of bed, gone to work possibly half-naked, and then got hit by a car because he was too feverish to tell the grass from the street. And that last scenario was if he made it down his apartment buildings staircase in one piece - a great feat for him on even his healthiest days.
It was strange how a trivial detail such as which idiot delivers the mail could ruin his entire daily routine.
...I was so very tempted to title the cut "The older teen appeared dumbfounded and looked at his pants in confusion." but I couldn't T.T
