"Hey!" Hajime said gently, pushing down on his friend's shoulders, "Relax, Handlebars..." He turned his head just enough to glare at Tasukete. "Handlebars," he repeated in a firm voice.

Looking back at the poor, frightened kid in front of him, Hajime exhaled slowly. To say that Handlebars had had a rough night was an understatement. And no doubt things would only escalate when Tasukete learned--as he undoubtedly would--that Hajime was responsible for the death of his parents, and the situation of his younger brother.

Removing his right hand from Handlebars' shoulder, Hajime reached into his pocket and pulled out the mp3 player he had put there earlier. He pressed it into its owner's hand. "Just let him speak, Handle," he said in a low voice. "If you want him gone, I'll make him leave. But for now, let him speak, all right?"

Handlebars shoved his mp3 player into his pocket and glared straight at Tasukete. "Fine," he replied stubbornly.

Tasukete took a deep breath and stared at his younger brother. "...Handlebars," he began, a look of confusion on his face. "Don't be afraid. I've... been looking for you."

Handlebars swallowed and nodded. He wasn't angry with his brother for not returning sooner. Tasukete had every right to pursue his training in a village with better facilities and methods. The brothers' old home wasn't even near a training facility that Tasukete could walk to every day. In truth, the large house was in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't angry with his brother for calling him by his old name. After all, it's not like Tasukete knew that he had abandoned it. Handlebars was just angry.

"Well," the youngest said finally. "You found me."

Tasukete took another deep breath and smiled gently. "You know about our--"

"Yeah," Handlebars said, cutting his brother off. "I know. Trust me. I know."

"I thought so," Tasukete said quietly. "I would be quite surprised if you didn't."

Handlebars subconsiously pressed against Hajime's side.

"Has this man... adopted you?" Tasukete continued, gesturing at Hajime. He knew that his little brother was at an age where he didn't need a legal guardian, but he doubted Handlebars' ability to take care of himself.

"No." Hajime cut into the brothers' conversation. "We're, ah, just friends. The season's cold, and Handle's sick..." He looked down at the kid. "...So, he's staying here for a while." Hajime hoped he wasn't a.ssuming too much in saying that Handlebars would stay with him. After all, he'd been all too eager to leave earlier.

Hajime put his arm around his friend and looked back at Tasukete, his gaze pa.ssively daring the man to intervene.

((Someone's GELUS. :c))

Tasukete looked at his brother. "You are sick?" he said, concern in his voice. Tasukete had also noticed the mp3 player that Handlebars had hastily shoved into his pocket earlier. He recognized it as the one he had given to Handlebars years earlier as a Christmas gift. The fact that his brother still had it made him feel a little bit better about the situation.

"Yeah, but it's not that bad," Handlebars answered, pressing against Hajime again. "I'll be fine."

Tasukete nodded. He was beginning to realize how much his brother had obviously grown since he had last seen him. Handlebars had the same curious, large green eyes and messy hair. He was a handsome boy, despite his skinniness.

A loud ringing sound broke the silence in the room. Tasukete quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He glanced at it, then looked at Hajime and Handlebars. "Excuse me," he said, bowing his head. "I must be going. If you would allow it, I would like to visit again. I am not yet done talking with my brother." He turned, opened the door, and jumped.

((Tasu got an important call from someone dumb. :c So now he has to run and help them. 'Cause that's what Tasu does. ...It'll explain itself later. He jumped offa the fire escape. x3 'Cause he's a NINJA. (AHH) ...Not really. But he can do that.))

"...Your brother's strange," commented Hajime. "Not sure I like it." Without thinking, he put his hand on top of Handlebars' head. "You should rest," he said. "Because you are sick." Hajime nodded.

((SHORT. 8c))

Handlebars looked up at Hajime. "He... He has to act like that. All... calm and... weird like that. It used to creep me out when I was younger, but..." He shook his head. "I would much rather him act like that than... Well, I guess I'll let him explain."

The teen sighed and shut his eyes. He hadn't realized that he was leaning his head on Hajime's arm. At this point, he didn't care. "I am pretty tired," he said quietly.

((;c Short post.))

"Hm..." Hajime paused for a long moment, and then sighed. It still wasn't his place to know these things. Before Handlebars had time to ob
ject, Hajime took his hand and--stopping to grab the blanket from the threadbare couch--led him back to the bedroom.

Tossing the blanket on the bed, Hajime turned to look at his friend. "Listen... About what I said earlier..." He locked eyes with Handlebars, and noticed how tired the kid looked. "...Uh, do you wanna stay here for a while? I mean, you're welcome for as long as you want, but if you don't want to, you could just leave once the weather lets up..."

Hajime let go of Handlebars' hand and patiently waited for his response.

Handlebars rubbed his ear and stared back into Hajime's eyes. "I..." he blushed, not sure how to say what he was thinking. Handlebars didn't like asking favors, and he especially didn't like being a burden. "I... don't really have a place to stay, and... If you wouldn't mind... I would love to stay here..."

"But," he began again, shifting nervously. "Where would you sleep...?"

((:c He doesn't wanna kick Haji outta his bed.))

Hajime tried not to smile and convey his excitement. Fortunately, there was a simple solution to the problem of sleeping arrangements. "It'd be easy for me to find a bed or a mattress to borrow," he said. "And I could put that either in the living room or in my spare room, if I can find space. If not, I can always use the couch." He gently pushed Handlebars towards his bed. "You're welcome to stay for as long as you want."

Then Hajime frowned. "Oh," he said, "I'll find something better for you to sleep in." He ducked out of the room and headed towards his storage room, wondering if, indeed, there would be room for him on the floor there.

Handlebars smiled and followed Hajime out of the room. He stopped and looked at the mug of broth on the shelf next to the couch. I never got the chance to eat that... He thought and went over to pick it up. By now, the liquid in the mug was fairly cold. That didn't matter much to Handlebars, though. For the past few days, he had been eating nothing but what he had saved for emergencies where he couldn't make it down to the soup kitchen or somewhere else for a meal. The stored food was less than savory, and all of it was cold, of course.

Handlebars picked up the spoon and sifted through the contents of the mug. When he was younger, Mrs. Matthews had always yelled at him for playing with his food. Finally, he spooned some of the broth (Which he noticed contained chicken.) into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It was a welcome change of pace from what he was used to. Even the soup at the soup kitchen was somehow different.

The tired teen, mug in hand, made his way back to Hajime's bedroom.

Hajime cracked open the door to his storage room and slid inside. By this point, the full moon was high enough in the sky to shine into the window of the room, and Hajime had no need for the light switch. He peered around the dim room, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness.

Lining the walls were tables and racks of weaponry of all kinds. This room was the only fully organized one in Hajime's flat above the chapel. Katana after dagger after poison needle sat in rows, like sleeping beasts. Though Hajime had always been partial to bladed weapons over modern ones, there were several ammunition weapons, as well...

The room always unnerved Hajime. He endeavored to focus not on the weapons, but rather on the rows of books and multiple trunks and articles of furniture that were also in the room, slightly obscuring the shining metal. After slight hesitation, he made his way to one of the trunks and opened it, revealing carefully folded articles of clothing.

Hajime pushed aside shirts and pants, old winter coats and woolen sweaters, and pulled out a pair of black plaid flannel pants intended for pajamas. Nodding to himself, Hajime put the pants over his shoulder and sorted through several more layers of clothing before producing a dark gray tee shirt, like the type he was accustomed to wearing, that he had outgrown. He closed the trunk and stood, taking the shirt and flannel pants in his arms, turned, and walked out of the room without looking back. He shut the door behind him with his foot and returned to his bedroom, where Handlebars waited.

Standing in the doorway, Hajime noticed the mug of broth in Handlebars' hands. "Oh," he said softly, still slightly uncomfortable after entering his spare room, "That broth is probably cold... We could heat it up, if you want." He set the clothes he'd found on the corner of his bed. "These look like they'll fit you."

((Long post for no reason whatsoever. xD))

Handlebars looked up, a grin plastered on his face. "No, that's okay," he said. "I'm already done with it." He set the now-empty mug on the dresser and walked back to the bed. "Thanks, Haju..." The teen sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at Hajime. "I appreciate everything... I really do," Handlebars continued, running his hands over the soft pajamas. He stood, walked over to Hajime, and wrapped his arms around him.

This is so... ironic. He thought to himself, tightening his grip on his friend.

((Short post of fail. 8c))

Hajime let out a short, hushed laugh and squeezed Handlebars tightly, a soft smile on his face. I can't believe my luck, he thought. Fate is certainly strange...

"You're my friend, Handlebars," he said aloud. "I'd do a lot for you... believe it or not."

...to give me a friend that I've already betrayed. Hajime, too, tightened his grip on the person he knew was now his best friend.

Handlebars let go of Hajime and took a step back, smiling. "I... I guess I'll change now," he said, scratching the back of his head. He took off his borrowed shirt and threw it at Hajime, then picked up the black shirt and pulled it on.

"Hey, Haju?" Handlebars said, tugging his jeans off. "Do you know how to ride a bike? Like, a normal one, not a motorcycle."

((Short post. Handle doesn't care who sees him with his pants off.))

Hajime caught the shirt unflinchingly and slowly shook his head. "No," he said. "It's sort of embarra.ssing..." He smiled. "But I never learned. I don't imagine it'd be very hard for me to figure out, though... I just haven't had a reason to." He didn't seem to mind Handlebars changing in front of him any more than the teenager did. "Do you?"

((;c Short. Short short short. SHOOOOOORT. (AHH) SHORT.))

((>8( If Handle would ever SHUT UP, they could go to sleep and go to the next day. ...Geez, it's only been one day.))

Handlebars shook his head and slid into the pajama pants. "Nah... I always wanted to try," he said quietly. "If you ever learn how to... will you teach me?"

The teen handed his jeans to Hajime and sat on the edge of the bed, kicking his feet idly. He stifled a yawn.

Hajime nodded, a smile playing at his lips. "I promise," he told Handlebars. "I'll learn, and then I'll teach you." It's my responsibility, sure... He took the kid's jeans and turned out the light. ...but I think... I just want to do it.

Hajime paused. "...Handle? I've got a question for you... before we go to bed." He swallowed. "I've seen you rubbing at your ears... Um..." Hajime put his hand on the doorknob. "How much do I make them hurt?"

((;c Almost bedtime.))

((It's prolly morning by now.))

Handlebars looked down and stopped kicking his feet. "Um... Well, it's just your eyes..." he answered, avoiding the real question. "They... It's not that bad, I... Hey, Haju? Do... Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" He gripped the blanket nervously. "I get... I... I don't really like sleeping alone. At least when I'm outside, I can hear the city... and stuff... It's just too quiet in here."

((:c He's scared of the silence.))

((PSHHHH. We are the writers, and WE control the time! ...I think that makes us Time Lords.))

"Y-Yeah," said Hajime. "Of course I will." He pulled a pair of pajama bottoms out of one of his dresser drawers and quickly changed into them. "But... You know," he began, sitting down on the far side of his (thankfully large) bed, "You didn't really answer my question."

((Now THAT'S a short post. xD))

Lying down, Handlebars rested his head on the pillow and looked over at Hajime. "U-um... They don't hurt as much as they did before..." he answered truthfully. "I'll be okay... Don't worry."

Handlebars, too tired to talk any longer, pulled the blankets up and shut his eyes. He softly hummed to himself, drifting off to sleep.