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It wasn’t that Heure had meant to jump on the same train as Sougo; it had just kind of happened, and now Heure was squeezed against the door of some random train he hadn’t even meant to get on, several feet from a guy who didn’t even know he was there. Or who he even was, really, but that meant nothing.
This...
This wasn’t stalking!
Heure’s eyes grew wide and he felt his cheeks heat up a little. If he was seen, how would he even explain it? No, he didn’t have to explain anything, this was a public train! Heure could ride whatever train he wanted, whenever he wanted, and nobody could stop him.
The train came to a slow halt and Heure heard Sougo’s friend make a gasp as Sougo said something with a laugh. Heure didn’t care to remember his name, but Tsukuyomi- senpai gave a sharp hiss for them to behave because they were in public. The doors opened, and people began the routine of filtering in and out in an orderly manner. Freed from the wall of larger bodies around him, Heure looked over just in time to see Sougo eagerly jump up and direct a woman who looked far too ancient to be walking, let alone riding the train alone, to his former seat.
As he watched the scene, Heure felt his heart flutter for how thoughtful and kind his upperclassman was. Everyone knew Sougo was nice, but seeing that his cool behavior was the same outside side had Heure’s heart melty and limbs gooey. And then, just as Heure had been admiring his one and only, their eyes met, instantly prompting Heure to dive off the train and flee without a word, pink eyes burned into his soul.
Heure’s heart hammered in his chest; why was he running? They had just made eye contact, it wasn’t anything serious --
Before he realized it, Heure was standing next to a little convenience store outside the train station, feeling awkward. He puffed his cheeks out turned to look at the station name.
Well… He wasn’t that far from home. He could also do the most reasonable thing and get the next train, but Heure couldn’t take the possibility of Sougo magically being on the next one. Just the idea of his eyes meeting with Sougo’s again, oh no, he wasn’t ready!
Heure took off running when he tripped over his own feet, on complete nothingness. Naturally, he stumbled forward, and in order to catch himself from falling he grabbed for the first thing he could see; one nice, shiny new motorcycle. The back of it, at least.
Heure sighed in relief as he broke his fall. His relief was short-lived, however, as seconds later, the motorcycle flopped sideways and into the one next to it. A third motorcycle was added to the mix, and there was a loud, heavy clunking noise.
Heure jumped back, pale, both hands held up as he surveyed the damage. He had no chance to debate his next course of action as the owners of said bikes appeared in a swarm, four men who were older than Heure and much, much taller. They towered over him, speaking angrily with slurred voices. Heure tried to apologize and make his escape, but he was quickly and easily surrounded.
“I-I didn’t mean to, I honestly--” There were hands curled around his forearms, circling them perfectly and giving him no chance to fight as he was roughly guided off to a nearby alley several blocks down. People saw, of course, but no one wanted to get involved in a spat with unpleasant men.
A yelp of the likes Heure wished he could refuse came from him as he was tossed roughly into a wall. He bounced shoulder first against the hard brick but before he could even feel the pain, a long, pale finger jabbed repeatedly into his chest. The action sent both jolts of bubbling rage and distress running up and down his spine.
“Brat! Do you have any idea how much the paint on one of those costs?!” Heure winced as he felt the tip of the man's boney finger jab into his chest. He didn’t know! He didn’t care, either. However, Heure was also aware he was much too small and unfit physically to fight these people. All he could do was stay little and use his fragile appearance to try and make himself come off as more defenseless than he could ever truly be.
“I-I said it was an accident!” It was something Heure had practiced since he was little; he knew his looks were considered fair, and even as a teenager people treated him like he was much younger than he was, just because of his appearance. It was sickening, so he used it to his advantage. If Heure appeared small, then he wasn’t a threat. Heure stared up to the thug, his dark eyes large and deer-like. “I-I’m sorry, I-I can–”
There was a violent sting across his face, and Heure found his head whipped to the side as the thug backhanded him and he fell down onto his legs. It hurt ; Heure had never felt a strike with this much force in his life. It made him angry. A strange, dark feeling that made him want to jump up and shove his fist straight into the man’s chest.
But wait, what was he thinking??
Over him, the thug moved, his leg raising as though he were going to stomp downwards. Heure ducked out of instinct, curling down tight with his arms over his head for protection as he waited for the oncoming blow.
“Who the fuck are you?!” It didn’t come, but someone had yelled.
“Ah, there he is.”
“Hey, the fuck? I asked you a question!” Heure didn’t want to open his eyes in case there was suddenly a boot about to slam into his face, but he was curious. He opened an eye and peeked up, dissatisfied when he could only see legs. He raised his head a little more, seeing their backs were now turned.
Had he been forgotten?
Heure reached up and brushed back locks of fluffy black hair that had fallen in his face, quickly scanning the alley for a quick exit. There was no way to leave the back of the alley, as it turned out, so the only way he would be leaving was if he somehow managed to run past them all. He bit his lower lip and swallowed nervously, focusing his attention forward.
“-- silly. I’m finished wasting my time on fools.” That voice…
He had to have been old.
Someone, not the old man, let out a noise of pain and Heure saw one of the figures fall. Then, the other thugs moved, clearing the way for Heure to witness an older man flick one of the thugs in the face, his posture relaxed and his other hand tucked neatly away in the pocket of his baggy purple capris. It was such a simple action, and he had hardly moved at all, and yet…
The thug flew back, a spray of blood squirting from the top of his head like a halo through the air. One of the thugs dropped to the ground in shock, while the other two immediately fled, leaving their injured friend behind. Heure shrunk back, trying to remain small as bright pink eyes pierced into him. A smile curled on the old man’s lips and he held out his hand towards Heure, paying no heed to the remaining two men as one tried to assist his bloody friend.
For some reason, Heure was compelled to move. He stood on shaky legs, his face still stinging, and cautiously began to approach the older man, if only because the exit was that way. The old man seemed pleased, and Heure found himself drawn close as the old man took his chin in his hands. He bit back a surprised squeak.
“Poor little meow meow. Doesn’t look like you’re too hurt, though, thankfully. Let’s get you on your way, shall we?” A thumb brushed over the bruise that throbbed against his cheek. All Heure could do was nod, stunned.
Why did it feel like he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden?
The old man released his chin and turned, an arm sliding around Heure’s shoulder to guide him past the thugs, whom Heure didn’t spare a single glance.
“Um…”
“No need to thank me. Just make sure your pretty little head stays out of danger, or there may be consequences for more than just yourself.” What did that even mean? Heure looked up, about to reply, when suddenly he was gently nudged towards a crosswalk. The strange old man gave his shoulder a squeeze and then smiled.
“Off you go. If you really must thank me, then don’t fret; we’ll meet again sooner than you think.” He was turning around before Heure could even say anything, and walking around the corner as fast as Heure had whipped around.
That was kind of annoying.
What the hell?
Heure went to the corner, about to round it so he could chase down the bizarre, dare he say… intriguing old man.
“Heeeey!” A startlingly familiar voice called out to Heure and he froze. A few moments later, to Heure’s surprise, Sougo came running across the street.
“Eh? S-Sougo-senpai?” Heure took a step back, his eyes wide. Sougo grinned, a mischievous look in his eyes. Still, after what had just happened, he was a welcome sight.
“I knew I recognized you~ Heure, right? Whoa, what happened to your face?” Sougo's expression dropped, replaced with concern.
He Knew Heure’s Name.
OH NO.
“I, uh, It was a basketball.” Heure lied and took a step back, his hand covering the injured side of his face. Ugh, how uncute... And Sougo was worried, now. Wait, he was worried about Heure? Heure mooshed his cheek into his palm as he struggled to contain the boiling excitement, blushing.
Sougo watched him. His eyes were so lovely, some kind of dark pink, focused directly on Heure, He looked as though he had something to say, but was interrupted.
“Hey, Tokiwa! Hurry up or we’re going to miss the train again.” From across the street at the station, Sougo’s friend and Tsukuyomi-senpai were waiting. Sougo turned and laughed, mood seeming to lighten as he waved to them. “Sorry, sorry! Hey, you wanna come too? We’re going back to my uncle’s for snacks.” Sougo jabbed his thumb back to his friends. Before Heure could respond, Sougo laughed and stepped forward, putting an arm around his shoulder to usher him to the crosswalk. “What am I saying, of course, you wanna come. My uncle makes really good pancakes, you know the big wiggly ones that go *jiggle jiggle*? Trust me, they're good!”
Sougo was so energetic, leading Heure away, and Heure was immediately sucked into his world in less time than it took to blink. He was taller than Heure, and the arm over his back was firm and warm. Heure... should just go with him. Sougo was safe, wasn't he?
Familiar, even, though Heure wasn’t sure how.