((xDD Not that it matters here, but Haji loves that radio. He uses it like, daily. </3))

In a flash, Hajime was there, sloshing water onto the floor. He glanced irritatedly down at his wet feet, and ran his eyes momentarily over the broken radio.

Tossing the blanket onto his bed and for a moment forgetting his current place in Handlebars' mind, he knelt next to his weakened charge, the only person he'd ever met who knew him as a friend before a killer, and asked, "What happened? Are you all right?"

Hajime set the now partially empty water gla.ss on the dark wooden floor and used his wet right hand to push his hair out of his searching eyes.

The first words that came out of Handlebars' mouth were, "I'm sorry!"

Handlebars looked up at Hajime, embarra.ssment making his face grow hot. "I'm sorry," he repeated with the tone of a child who just broke his mother's prized vase. "I'm so sorry... I'll fix it... I-I can fix it..." He reached past Hajime and picked up a piece of the broken radio. Tears of frustration burned at the corners of his eyes.

Don't cry, you big baby. Don't you dare cry.

Taking in a shuddery breath, Handlebars let his bangs fall into his face, and reached for another piece of the radio. "G-go on... Go get yourself something to eat. I'll fix this..." he said quietly. "Just go..." He gently pushed Hajime's shoulder.

If Hajime had any tact, he'd have left when Handlebars asked him to. But, as he'd already proven, he had none. So, ignoring the emotional state of his friend, Hajime lifted him neatly off of the floor, and--carefully avoiding that water gla.ss--set Handlebars back on the bed.

It seemed that Hajime had completely forgotten his situation. He sat on the bed, stared straight into Handlebars' dark green eyes and firmly but gently told him, "I don't care about the radio. I can get another."

Breaking the serious gaze, Hajime rose. He blinked his dark red eyes and asked again, "Are you all right, Handlebars?"

Hot tears finally made their way down Handlebars' cheeks. "I'm fine," he replied, looking at the floor.

You idiot. Stop crying.

"I just heard a song," Handlbars began. "And... I didn't like it." Yeah. That's a wonderful excuse for breaking his radio. "I think the fever's just messing me up," he continued, wiping his face.

((:c Short post. Someone needs to say something that'll move this along. >8( -coughHajicough- ...-lazy-))

((>8( FINE THEN!))

"You're lying, Handlebars," said Hajime quietly. "I know you're lying..."

Sometimes, Hajime thought, it doesn't work to just play along. Sometimes, you have to lay your hand flat on the table for the world to see...

"...The man who..." Hajime's heart seemed to have reclaimed its spot in his chest and continued climbing into his throat. He swallowed and carefully sat once more at the edge of the bed. "The man who killed your parents... Was he ever caught?"

Although strangely, Hajime felt he already knew the answer.

Handlebars' breathing became shallower. "N-no... No, he was never caught," he replied quietly. "I... I don't think he was, at least... I tried to find newspapers people threw out every week... Nothing ever mentioned him... being..." He looked up at Hajime, fresh tears forming in his eyes.

He had stopped caring about how those tears were affecting his pride. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Suddenly, Hajime couldn't stand to look at Handlebars. He was at a momentary loss, and that reflected in his eyes just before he closed them tightly, turning his head away from the one person he felt he had betrayed the most in his entire life...

Hajime's stomach churned. He wasn't sure why. He'd known of this for a while...

"Yes," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. "Yes... It was me."

"Wow..." Handlebars whispered. His entire body was shaking. "What are the chances...?" He stared at Hajime as a tiny whimper escaped his throat. "I don't understand... Why? What's going to happen now? Were you hired to get rid of me, too? Did you pretend to be my friend this whole time? Are you going to kill me now?" His voice trembled, and he bit his lip before continuing. "I'm leaving. I don't care how sick I am. If you want to kill me, at least let me say goodbye to Mrs. Matthews first."

Handlebars stood and stumbled over to the door.

((8( Jumping to conclusions.))

Hajime rubbed a barely perceptible bit of wet from his eye and went after Handlebars. "It's not like that," he said, stepping in front of his bedroom door. "I'm not like that."

Finding himself face to face with Handlebars once again, Hajime's resolve weakened. "Maybe I was, once..." He looked down. "And maybe... I ruined your entire life in that time..." He closed his eyes and paused for a moment.

Hajime looked back at Handlebars. "But I'm here now. And I don't care how much you... how much you hate me..." He struggled to keep his gaze focused and strong. "...You're not leaving until you're healthy again."

Sweat and tears trickled down Handlebars' face. He hadn't fully absorbed the meaning of Hajime's words yet. "You can't stop me," he said through gritted teeth. "Get out of my way!" He feverishly took a step forward and glared angrily up at Hajime. Handlebars greatly disliked violence, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible, but he was ready to fight if he had to. Not that he could win.

He weakly pushed against Hajime in a feeble attempt to move him out of the way.

((G'aww. xD ♥♥))

Hajime tensed slightly and inhaled. He wasn't quite sure what to do, but he did manage to do the only thing that seemed reasonable: He picked Handlebars up, put him back into bed, covered him with all five blankets and the original blanket that had been on the bed from the start, and handed him the half-emptied water gla.ss.

Hajime looked sternly at his unwilling guest, and, in that moment, remembered something. Nine years ago, they'd told him that his targets had a young son... A son by the name of...

...Myuujikku.

Although Hajime remembered it, he refused to speak it, recalling Handlebars' reaction when he'd first asked about the kid's real name... This wasn't something he had the right to understand.

Abruptly surfacing from his revelation, Hajime resumed his unyielding glare and said, "Stay here. I'm going to make broth." Pointing at Handlebars, he repeated, "Stay here."

"...All right?"

((Dun dun DUNNN...

...I argued with myself for a little bit over whether to write the gla.ss as half-empty or half-full.))

((I'm glad you wrote half-full. :3 >8( Jerk.))

Handlebars winced slightly and stared at Hajime with a pitiful look on his face. After a few moments of silence, he threw the blankets off himself and slowly let his feet touch the hard wooden floor. The teen stood and walked over to Hajime. "One," he started, staring up at the older man. "I'm not a dog. Two, you aren't my father. You can't tell me what to do."

He clenched his fists and looked at the floor. "...But since you're holding me hostage here, I guess I have to listen to you. ...I was hoping you could at least let me sit on the couch."

Hajime's mind recognized that this was not a time betray his thoughts and feelings, but to establish that he was, indeed, in charge.

His heart, however, withered. His eyes betrayed him. He was hurt. But he recovered very quickly, and he realized the need for authority. If Handlebars ran off, the growing darkness and cold did not bode well for him.

"You're sick," he said strongly. "And you don't seem to give a damn what's best for you. That's why you have to listen to me. ...You can sit on the couch," he relented, "But if you try to run, believe me, I can catch you very quickly. It's not a good idea." Not knowing what else to do, Hajime turned and took one step out the door and towards the kitchen. He paused and turned back towards poor Handlebars.

"...You should try to rest. Please take care of yourself." Then he walked away.

Handlebars stood still for a few seconds. Hajime was beginning to remind him more and more of his older brother, Tasukete. It wasn't that Handlebars didn't like his brother. He just always used to feel uncomfortable around him, like nothing he did was quite enough. Tasukete constantly rea.ssured his little brother that he had nothing to worry about, but that didn't seem to stop Handlebars' uneasy feelings.

The youth slowly followed Hajime out and took his place on the couch. "You have no right to tell me what to do..." he muttered to himself, only half hoping Hajime couldn't hear him.

A few minutes later, Hajime emerged from the kitchen with a chipped ceramic mug, full of warm broth. "Be careful..." he said, setting the navy mug down on a wooden shelf next to the couch. "...It's hot."

Without another word, Hajime walked back to his bedroom. He quickly returned carrying the warmest blanket of the five spares, and casually put it over Handlebars' lap. He then sat at the opposite end of the couch and silently watched.

Handlebars absentmindedly ran his hand over the blanket in his lap. "Thanks..." he said quietly. He wrapped the blanket around himself, then turned and stared straight at Hajime. All politeness that Handlebars had once had was gone. "So, why did you do it, huh? Why did you kill them? Didn't know they had a little kid, did you? Even if you did, you probably didn't care."

Handlebars reached over and took the mug from the wooden shelf. "Was it for money?" he continued coldly. "Or did you get some kind of sick joy out of killing people?" His voice faltered, and he set the mug back on the shelf.

Hajime looked numbly at his knees. "I killed for money," he said without emotion. "It wasn't anything personal... I didn't enjoy it," he muttered. "Someone who'd heard of me would tell me of a job they wanted done, and I would do it... Then more people would hear of me."

He swallowed. "I knew there was a kid. Before I did anything, I made sure I knew everything... Family. Locations. ...Names." Hajime paused a second before listing the last item, but couldn't stop himself from saying it anyway. He wondered briefly what would cause someone to want to change their name. "...I knew you were there..."

"I did it anyway. That's the way that it worked." Hajime took a deep breath to stop himself from choking on his words. "...I'm sorry."

Handlebars drew his knees up to his chest. "I wish this was my house," he said quietly. "So that I could tell you to get out." He silently buried his face in his knees as his shoulders began to shake. If he was going to cry again, he wasn't going to let himself be heard.

After a few moments, he lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. "Okay," he said calmly. "I get it. Now please let me leave. I'll go to the soup kitchen or something... I'll find shelter somewhere. You have no reason to worry about me." Handlebars stared sorrowfully at Hajime, his green eyes burning into his friend's red ones.

This time, he didn't care about the ringing in his ears.

No... Hajime knew that he didn't want Handlebars to leave. But he couldn't be angry with the kid for hating him... After all, it was probably Hajime's fault that Handlebars had gotten sick in the first place. But when Hajime thought of the smile Handlebars had had for him just earlier that evening... It made him sick.

This is your fault... he told himself. Entirely your fault. And he was right. So, he wasn't going to let Handlebars leave. Every mishap that had ever befallen this teenager... was Hajime's fault. He was responsible. He matched Handlebars' eyes with his own doleful look, stood, and walked down the hallway and out his second-story back door, stairs from which led directly to the church steeple, without a word.

Handlebars watched Hajime walk out, then sighed and rested his chin on his knees. Don't feel bad for him... He's the reason why you're out on the streets in the first place. ...But you wouldn't have met Mrs. Matthews or that nice kid who lived in a box if it wasn't for Hajime... No, don't get soft... He's a killer, a murderer... But he's your friend... But he killed your parents... But that was so many years ago... People change.

The teenager shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. Finally, he stood and walked down the hallway, stopping once he reached the back door. "H-Haj... Haju...?" he called softly. "Are you there?"