Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
Innocent didn’t suit him, huh? Leo grinned, the comment nothing he wasn’t used to hearing. He wouldn’t recognize the feeling for what it was, but there was a little pang of sadness in his chest. Yeah, he was right. It didn’t suit him, did it?
When they got to his apartment, the door was opened and a humble studio was presented to him. Minimal, not really decorated, clean. Seemed like a decent place. He watched the guy move naturally around the place, telling him his options, and tried not to feel so out of place. Sounded like the bathroom was first, then.
Leo wandered in, pushing open the door and peeking hesitantly inside like there was someone waiting to jump him. There wasn’t. He relaxed a little with his next exhale and moved the rest of the way past the threshold, flicking on the light and the fan and looking around. It was clean, bare. Just like the rest of the apartment, he noticed. He moved past the mirror, not yet mentally prepared to see how he looked in one that wasn’t in a convenience store, and twisted the shower dial around until he figured out which direction was hot. He turned it nearly all the way up with a plan to melt away the layers of filth on his skin and the grease in his hair and he was suddenly so excited to be clean he could hardly stand himself. The excitement spread from his core all the way out to his fingers and he decided he’d find a way to kill a minute or two while the water warmed so the wait would go fast. He found himself at the vanity, still avoiding eye contact with his reflection. He snooped through the cabinet, inspecting the various Japanese products the guy owned, opening some of them to investigate before quietly replacing them so he wouldn’t know he went through his stuff.
He went through the drawers similarly. Quietly slid them open, poked around, and- Ah. A toothbrush. Still sealed, too. His now. Leo ripped open the plastic wrap and ran the cold water, helping himself to toothpaste and getting to work and...fuck. That was so nice. He scrubbed hard at his teeth, even used floss since he didn’t know when he’d get to clean up again next.
Onto the shower. If he thought the minty coolness was nice, the hot water was fucking fantastic. It covered him like a restorative blanket and Leo drew in a breath, the hot water turning gray and red from that gash on his arm as it ran to his feet and down the drain. He slathered himself in the guy’s soaps, reveling in the feeling and the nice scents. Never thought he’d feel that way about a shower.
It really hit him when he got out. Leo finally caught himself in the mirror and he looked...bad. Exhausted. His eyes were dark and he looked uptight and pale and...different than he looked in America. So much for this place being his escape. The longer he examined himself, drying longer, dark locks, the more everything started bubbling up in his chest and then his throat and then he was crying in a stranger’s bathroom in the middle of Tokyo. Not wanting to be heard, he buried his face in the towel and held his breath until he choked back the tears. He took a big breath in as if to purge himself of the last of the dirt and pulled on the clothes. Just a little big, but in the comfy sort of way. Smelled like him. And it made tears prick his eyes again.
The smell of coffee hit him when he stepped out of the steamed up room and his nose wrinkled in disgust. Smelled like his old house in the mornings and he didn’t like it, but he wouldn’t say anything. Awkward, he rejoined the other boy in the living space, unsure where to go or what to do but keeping up with that air of confidence.
“What’d I miss?” he wondered, plopping himself on a chair in the kitchen area. “Entertain yourself while I was gone?”
Oh, I've been here before; when everything I loved walked out the door. Oh, I need more tonight, just to feel alive. So I'm chasing highs, gotta keep chasing, keep chasing highs
Some relief washed over him as his guest went for the shower option, the raven certain that it would help him to not only feel a bit better; but also keep his apartment from getting mucked up more than it needed to. Once Leo was gone, he took the opportunity to remove his boots and then go about the process of making coffee and getting the ramen on the stove to reheat. It wasn't long before the smells mingled and made something new as both began to heat. He sighed then, realizing the mess he might've gotten himself into by trying to do a good deed. For a millisecond, he almost regretted it...then he reminded himself that he'd once been just like Leo. Starving, stealing, getting the shit beat out of him for it, and wondering if it was better to just lie down and die or keep living as long as possible. It was a miserable existence, but even the smallest things back then helped. So if there was anything he could reasonably do to ease the suffering...what excuse did he have not to? What solid reason other than selfishness existed? There was none, at least none that Milo could find.
With that, he shook the thoughts from his head, concluding then that Leo had probably gotten into the shower from the sound of things. The walls of his apartment, and those surrounding it, were rather thin. Simply by the way the water hit the bottom of the shower, he could tell that it was time to bring in the clothes.
He kept comfort in mind when he selected them, opting for one of the few pairs of pajama pants, some worn in flannels, a shirt that was purchased two sizes too big at the time, and an old pair of boxers; all long since washed and stored with the intent of donation that just never happened. The raven was glad he'd kept them now, he'd never imagined running into someone so like himself that he felt obligated to help them. At least the items would see some use...perhaps if tonight went well he could see about helping Leo get on his feet and then just giving these things to him. Though that was a far off future, one that relied on many things going right and few going wrong; best not to allow himself to get too attached to that notion.
Quietly, he slipped the clothing into the bathroom, leaving them on the counter, folded neatly for Leo to find. He noted the freshly opened toothbrush drying there; good...at least his hadn't been used, though that meant Leo was fine going through drawers that weren't his. Without a word, he left the bathroom and closed it back up, returning to his task of making coffee and heating up their dinner with the hopes of both being ready once Leo got out. A hot shower and a meal would do him good.
Fortunately, that seemed to be the case, as the stranger entered the room as Milo was fixing himself a cup of the coffee; doing it up like some fancy starbucks drink minus the whipped cream. He loved whipped cream, but found that it added little to the flavor, to him it was better eaten on its own. His eyes flitted up from the cup as he poured in chilled milk, a touch of sugar and cinnamon, noting how much better yet also worse Leo looked. Poor thing...it was so obvious he hadn't slept in days now, his eyebags were as dark as the dirt once on his skin. As the other spoke, Milo took a sip of the delightfully warm, sweet drink he'd made for himself; sighing in satisfaction as it warmed him and satiated the sugar craving that always hit this time of night for him.
"The ramen's heated up if you're hungry, coffee's also made if you want some," The raven responded, watching as the other boy, now clean and free of grime...though his eyes were red and somewhat puffy; perhaps he'd gotten soap in them or perhaps he'd had the same reaction as Milo during his first shower after a month of being on the streets. He suspected it was the latter, but opted not to press the issue or acknowledge it at all. "You could say I did."
He managed to tear himself away from his coffee then, setting it down on the laminate countertop and turning to the cabinet behind him to fetch some bowls and silverware. Within a few moments, he'd poured the ramen into two bowls, one for him and another for Leo; naturally. "Coffee or water? Which one do you want?" He asked.
Though before Leo could answer he brought over the piping hot bowls filled with chopsticks, forks, and spoons, cloth napkins under each hand as he placed them both down on the table. They were both identical as far as Milo cared, though he was willing to let his guest take his pick from both of the bowls as he walked back to the kitchen, making it in only a few steps with how small the overall apartment was in relation to his height. It was...certainly not meant for a person who was primarily Scandinavian and had the height that came with that; however he made due and enjoyed his little space. It was his...it was safe.
Warm droplets fell from the ends of his hair to the shirt, slowly soaking the collar and shoulders and making the fabric darker in sporadic splotches. Leo leaned back in the chair, one foot pulled comfortably up on the edge of it, the other leg open to the side to take up a little more space with performative confidence. He watched the other move casually around the kitchen, getting everything together and placing it all before him in a relaxed fashion like he took people off the street all the time and this was completely normal. He wondered if it was. The guy must’ve been pretty stupid to bring people in and out all the time. Maybe that was why he didn’t have much stuff. Not anywhere obvious, at least.
Leo leaned forward, both feet on the ground like a normal person as he picked up the chopsticks and slid the left bowl closer. Not bothering to make any small talk to fill the silent space between them, he dug right in. Still feeling emotional from the heat of the shower and the lightness of being clean, the bowl was even better than it was a few days earlier to the extent that he thought he might cry over it. He sighed softly and took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of it in the air and the warmth in his stomach - savoring with all his senses before it would be gone again. Just like last time.
Feeling normal, if only for an hour or so, had the power that a full eight hours of sleep would’ve. He never thought he’d place so much value in a hot shower, a meal, and four walls. He was relaxed, guard almost all the way down, and unbelievably sleepy. Not tired. He was tired, too. Exhausted. But this was different. It was heaviness in his eyes and an urge to crawl under a warm blanket on the couch in a hoodie and socks fall asleep to a movie he wasn’t paying attention to. And in the time he’d spent fantasizing about it, he’d finished the meal and the water, not realizing he’d eaten so fast again until his stomach twisted in protest of being so full.
“Alright, doc,” he started, “thanks for the food but I think you can spare me the bandaids.” The wounds were still throbbing, especially the slice across the base of his deltoid, and the bust in his lip stung from the salty broth, but convinced they were menial despite how much they’d bled earlier and not exactly sold on the merit of a bandaid versus the dirt of the streets, he stood to go. “Save ‘em for the next kid you bring in.”
Oh, I've been here before; when everything I loved walked out the door. Oh, I need more tonight, just to feel alive. So I'm chasing highs, gotta keep chasing, keep chasing highs
At the comment about coffee, he couldn't help but chuckle and roll his eyes a bit; what a sad life to lead, thinking coffee is gross.
"Black coffee? Yeah, that's disgusting. You probably just haven't had the good kind."
The raven quipped back before he fetched the glass of water his guest requested and placed it on the table for Leo. With that, they commenced with eating, Milo finding some relief that the other boy didn't seem too keen on chattering away during the meal. He was tired and somewhat worn in from his shift, not quite relaxed with Leo around; yet not necessarily on edge either. It was a state of limbo that he was willing to exist in, for the time being, his unease meant that the other might survive another day or live long enough to get himself out of this situation; that was a burden he was more than willing to bear.
However, as they finished eating, he couldn't help but be a bit surprised and confused that Leo stood and proclaimed he was leaving. Under different circumstances, such as if Leo wasn't so young and wasn't so injured, he might've just nodded silently and allowed him to go with no protest. Though this was not the reality they existed in, his guest had injuries that if infected, could kill him and thus defeat the entire purpose of Milo letting him in.
“Save ‘em for the next kid you bring in.”
What? What next kid? Did Leo just think he did this all the time? What a strange kid, taking his home for a soup kitchen and his sympathy for a charity organization.
"Uh, I'd really prefer to patch those up, that was kind of the point of having you here..." The raven replied, confused and raising a brow at his guest to show it. "I don't foresee there being a 'next kid', you're the only one I've brought in...this isn't like...a hobby of mine."
He knew he probably should've waited for an answer, but he didn't. Instead, he rose to his feet and moved back into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he squatted down to search through the cabinet underneath the sink. Thin hands rummaging through the items there until he located the decently sized first-aid kit he kept; essential for someone who wasn't the most graceful and was frequently exposed to heat. Once found, he grabbed the item and pulled it out, shutting the cabinet and carrying it back into the rest of the apartment, and placing it on the table. He quietly pulled his chair up before Leo's and went about opening the kit.
"C'mon, it won't take more than a few minutes. Then if you want to go I won't stop you," he stated, fishing out some cotton pieces and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide as he looked to Leo expectantly, his eyes darting to the empty chair in front of him and then back to the young man; as though telling him to sit. His statement hinting that he had no intention of forcing Leo to leave tonight. His couch was more than available, should his guest decide to take it...if Leo could behave himself at least, though he didn't outright say it. He wouldn't unless he felt the need to.
Typically, Milo didn't get this close to people, three feet was usually his minimum distance. However, to prevent a painful death, he was willing to stifle that fear, which he knew to be irrational. He was a good deal bigger than Leo and realistically had very little to worry about.
If he wanted to go he wouldn’t stop him? The hell was that supposed to mean? He was going to let him stay as long as he wanted? He really was stupid, wasn’t he? Or maybe Leo was just really good at reading the air and his earlier assumption was right. This help wasn’t coming free.
Leo sighed his acquiescence and slipped into the chair.
“Not sure what you think any of this is gonna do for me,” he muttered to explain his reasoning for wanting to leave, watching the guy get situated next to him. Although he’d been timid about taking the help - the food, the water, the first aid - proximity didn’t faze him. Even if Milo was considering doing something to him, Leo didn’t particularly care. It couldn’t have been much worse than anything else, and he’d have brought it on himself by foolishly going with and trusting this stranger. He was practically signing up for it. Actually, he was hoping for it. He wouldn’t mind another body, the place to sleep, regardless of whatever else that might’ve entailed. It must’ve been some instinct he didn’t know he had trying to get him to leave. He wouldn’t listen.
He winced at the sting of the antiseptic in that deep gash on his arm but tried not to make it obvious. The itchy burn and pressing were both uncomfortable, but the guy’s hands were gentle. Leo could tell he was trying to handle him carefully. He was doing a decent job, which enforced Leo’s suspicion that despite what he’d said, this wasn’t his first time bringing in some kid off the street.
“Why’d you leave Seattle for a shithole like this?” he wondered after a moment’s silence, gaze heavy on the other man to gauge his reaction. “Worth it?”
Oh, I've been here before; when everything I loved walked out the door. Oh, I need more tonight, just to feel alive. So I'm chasing highs, gotta keep chasing, keep chasing highs
“Not sure what you think any of this is gonna do for me,”
God he was such a kid. A stupid one at that. With a heavy sigh, he began treating Leo's wounds, his touch gentle so as to not add more discomfort to the already uncomfortable road ahead. Hydrogen peroxide placed onto a cotton ball and then held carefully against the wound, Milo's head shaking as he watched the liquid bubble up and froth; killing the infection in it's wake.
"Well for starters, you won't lose an arm."
He replied, somewhat of a sharp quip as he shook his head at the other. It was hard to believe that just two years ago he was as young and stupid as Leo; and in much of the same situation. Well...unbeknownst to him, the exact same situation, one he wouldn't have wished on 99% of the population. There were only two people he could ever think of who might deserve such a fate, and even then...deserve was subjective.
The raven carried on bandaging his wounds, moving quickly and effectively, showing that he was not stranger to treating these sorts of things. When one worked in a kitchen was clumsy, or had a penchant for not shielding themselves from undue harm; they had to know how to do these things. Especially since Milo didn't like seeking medical attention, that just meant more strange people he didn't know touching him and asking him questions he didn't feel like answering.
Speaking of questions...
“Why’d you leave Seattle for a shithole like this? Worth it?"
Gloomy eyes flitted up to Leo's gaze then, their eyes locking like a storm, though there was no aggression nor hint of prickliness from Milo. Though he couldn't help but notice how the other man's gaze felt...heavy on him like he was waiting for some terrible truth to be revealed.
There was a tragic tale, a heartbreaking reason Milo fled his home country and ran halfway across the world with nothing to his name; but it wasn't something he'd divulge to a stranger...or really anyone for that matter. However, he did take some offense at the implications of this place being a shit hole. Perhaps it wasn't as beautiful and sparkling as Seattle, but comparatively...this was a much better world to exist in. Tokyo offered him some sort of safety and peace that Seattle could never give him. It certainly wasn't perfect but...it tried more than the rainy city he was born in; even if it wasn't intentional.
His eyes tore from Leo's then, nodding somewhat for a few seconds as he sucked his lips in, formulating an answer that would not only satisfy his question but might make him rethink his stance on Tokyo being horrible. It truly wasn't a bad place to be, even if you didn't speak the language or know where you were going.
When he finally found the answer he was looking for, his eyes met his guest's again, no trace of anger within them as he spoke. He knew Leo was just a kid, a prickly one at that; he likely didn't mean it the way Milo was interpreting it.
"Just because somewhere is pretty doesn't mean it's a good place...you don't want to know the answer to that, but yes; it was worth it. If I had a do-over, I'd still leave for this place."
He replied finally, carrying on then with applying antiseptic and then antibiotic ointment to Leo's wounds, finishing him off with gauze and medical tape or bandages where needed. The raven even managed to tend to Leo's lip, though that was left open to the air, as there was no reasonable way to get a band-aid to stick to it. With that, he began to pack up his first-aid kit, sorting the items he'd gathered back into their rightful places.
"I won't ask why you came here, it was probably for a good reason."
He thought aloud, not necessarily intending to pressure Leo into telling him why more so just making a general statement. It genuinely was none of his business why his guest was now standing in his living room instead of wherever the fuck he was from, but considering he didn't know the language well and had no money...it likely wasn't a planned trip.
"You can stay the night if you want, the couch is open. If not, then you're free to go and can come back if those bandages start falling off or anything, kay? And of course for the ramen and whatever, that offer still stands."
Their eyes met and his energy dominated Leo’s immediately. He couldn’t place the emotion behind it. Not mean or angry or threatening, but not sad or hurt. His gaze was just...heavy. It unsettled him. He felt like a kid in trouble. Like he’d definitely fucked up with that question. The boy, who usually found himself unable to shut up, could come up with no words to break the tension. He remained stuck there, staring into his eyes like he was watching his story wordlessly unfold within them, until Milo looked away and Leo could breathe again. Yeah, definitely fucked up.
He wouldn’t say sorry because he didn’t know how but he certainly had a whole pit of sorry in his stomach. He stayed quiet for a moment, letting the wound be silently tended to, before he spoke up.
“It just hasn’t been particularly...welcoming. To me. Is all I meant. But I guess I was sorta stupid about it. I just...wanted out,” he explained and rolled his eyes at himself, wondering why the fuck he said the things he did, then groaned softly at that deep, dull ache of antiseptic seeping into his skin and tightened his fingers into a fist.
The guy was right. He wouldn’t lose an arm. Not today. But that didn’t mean anything for tomorrow or the day after that when he was back out on the streets. Though he felt similar to the way Milo did about Tokyo. If he had the money, he was certain he wouldn’t have gone back to the States. But being told his reason for being there was likely a good one had the opposite effect and made him doubt what drove him to leave. It was valid, sure, he knew that. And he was fed up with his life in Maine. But this guy had clearly been through his own sea of shit and Leo, king of woe-is-me, found himself feeling like it was a little dramatic bailing all the way across the planet just because his dad was a creep because he was certain his own gaze wasn’t as learned, as tired or as intense as Milo’s.
“Are you not…? Um-” He blinked at Milo as he packed up the kit. Leo was fully prepared to make his move, offer his payment and thanks the best way he knew how, but ever since he looked at him like that, he’d lost his footing and was fumbling through this entire encounter in a way he’d never done with anyone before. Leo glanced at the couch, then back over to the man.
“You’re seriously just letting me sleep here without….anything?” he pressed and let a hand slip over one of Milo’s, stopping it from cleaning up. He glanced up at him but only for a moment, nervous to meet his gaze again, then let his eyes fall to his lips, his chest, their hands. He hadn't gotten a thing for free. Not once in his life. There was always a toll. He didn't expect that to change now. “I don’t mind.”
“It just hasn’t been particularly...welcoming. To me. Is all I meant. But I guess I was sorta stupid about it. I just...wanted out.”
That statement, though it seemed drenched in apologies that Leo wouldn't utter, didn't bode well for his assumptions about his guest. Though he wanted to, Milo didn't pry, figuring that if the kid wanted him to know; he'd tell him why he left...but that didn't settle the unease that the words brought him. To just dip half-way across the world like Leo had...like both of them had, so unprepared and without a thought; certainly said something about what they both wanted to escape. He didn't doubt for a moment that it was vile, whatever Leo had gone through to cause him to do such a thing.
He wanted to ask, he really did, but sometimes the best thing someone could do is just wait to be told. If he was meant to know, then he would in due time, there was no use pestering someone who'd obviously been kicked by life a few times. He wasn't entitled to his story, he'd wait for Leo to tell him to if he so chose.
With how young the other boy was and really how...stupid and fighty he seemed to be at times, it wouldn't have surprised him if things had been bad back home. Milo had no way of knowing what it was of course...yet as Leo began to speak and reach for him it sent a tremor up his spine; the hair standing on the back of his neck in all the worst ways.
“Are you not…? Um- You’re seriously just letting me sleep here without….anything?"
He watched in what felt like slow motion as Leo's hand reached for his own, harmlessly laying on top of it and offering something that was truly frightening in such a casual manner. That told him everything...that right there, at least he thought it did. He knew Leo wasn't trying or going to hurt him, yet that didn't stop the fear from brewing in his stomach.
“I don’t mind.”
Milo's jaw clenched noticeably, eyelids fluttering as he looked to their hands for a split second. Why couldn't he breathe? Why did it feel like his chest was being crushed yet his body so hollow all at once? Like a vase cracking under pressure...he was going to freak out, those words carried something in them that was far too familiar. It wasn't so much that Milo had done the same thing...but he sensed that they were rooted in a tale so closely related; like chapters succeeding each other in a book, bound together in something that shouldn't have ever happened to either of them.
Yet somehow, he managed to jerk his hand away, a little shake in his bones remaining as he fought to keep himself under control. It wasn't Leo's fault, he wasn't doing anything but what he was taught to do.
It's not his fault...don't snap...he didn't know...people don't just offer things like that unless they're raised that way
Don't freak out...it's not his fault
His head whispered, for once saying the right thing.
The raven managed to keep it together, taking a breath that perhaps hinted at how unsettled the gesture left him before he opted to speak.
"Don't...don't do that."
He spoke, looking away from him again as he finished packing up the kit. Twining his fingers into the handles as he stood with the container and walked past Leo to go stow it. Despite how much the offer scared him, he had no ill will towards Leo, no negative thoughts of him over it. People were products of their environments, if Leo offered something like that...it must've been because he was taught that he was supposed to do that...right?
It was so hard to think about, so unfair and horrible. Why did anyone else have to know what that felt like?
So he tried to push the thoughts from his head, at least so he could look the other boy in the eye as he came back into the dining room area, arms crossed at his chest as he tried to hide the anxious after-effects of a simple hand touch and unwanted advance.
"You're can stay...I don't want anything from you... the couch is yours for the night..."
"We can...see about it being yours after that if you want."
Did he seriously just offer that? God...he couldn't believe the words he'd just uttered.
Leo blinked at their hands as the warmth of the other’s fingers retreated from beneath his own, then watched them wrap pointedly and securely around the handle of the first aid kit. Thrown by the rejection, he was quiet, at a loss for words, struggling to process where he’d gone wrong. He stood when the other walked away to store the kit, unsure now that he’d crossed a line he apparently was wrong to cross.
And yet, the offer to sleep there was still on the table.
“O...kay,” he agreed, a hand moving to rub uncomfortably at some of the water on the side of his neck from his still-wet hair.
He shifted, avoided meeting his gaze because he knew he would only squirm under the weight of it. He’d fucked up all over again. Twice in a fucking row. He prided himself on his ability to read people and he could’ve sworn this was no exception. Who the fuck helped someone for free? Nothing came to him with no strings attached and he was convinced that nothing ever would. And now this guy was going to just...help him? Out of what? The goodness of his heart? That wasn’t a quality he’d found in a single person on the planet - goodness - and Leo doubted he’d find it in Tokyo.
He watched the guy go over to his bed and lingered in place, deciding whether or not he wanted to stay. Ultimately, he found himself relaxed back into the cushions, fingers running over the blanket draped across the couch, stroking the soft fabric and zoning out for a moment before stretching out and wrapping it around himself, the plush a nice change of pace from gravely asphalt. His spine ached, his lower back throbbing with sharp pain that made it hard to breathe as the pressure and tension left his body and allowed all those vertebra and joints to decompress back to their intended states. Sleeping on pavement and benches had caught up to him just as fast as the hunger, it seemed, which was causing issues of its own as he tried to go to sleep in the comfort of four walls while he had the chance. The ramen was so much, so heavy, and his stomach was cramping in protest of its over-capacity.
Leo groaned softly and rolled onto his side, blinking into the room that would’ve been pitch black if not for the lights outside the window. His back was to the cushions, which made him feel protected. Ready. He didn’t distrust Ramen Guy but he didn’t exactly trust him, either. More pressingly, he didn’t trust the dark. The worst things tended to happen when guards were down and lights were off and facing forward made him feel more poised maybe not to make a break for it but to at least have a moment to mentally prepare for anything coming his way.
We can...see about it being yours after that if you want.
He repeated it in his head.
We can see about it being yours after that if you want. We can see about it being yours after that if you want.
Did he mean, like, permanently? And was...was Leo actually considering taking him up on it? God forbid something work out for him. There had to be a catch. Enlist in some gang, get sold off. Whatever it would be (and there definitely was something) he’d find out tomorrow. Sleep came fast and heavy and Leo was helpless to give into its pull.
That rejection caused a shift in Leo that was all too easy for Milo to detect. The stammering, the avoidance of meeting his eyes, the uncomfortable movements; they stung like fresh wounds and brought empathy bubbling up inside of the raven. Confusion and the expression of a child who felt guilty for doing something wrong...how unfair it all was. He tried not to assume what it was from, but how could he not?
“O...kay,”
That simple expression played in his head over and over again as he went about the rest of his evening, so short yet it said so much in tandem with the body language. Some part of him wanted to say something, yet also feared the consequences of being wrong or right. You know what they always used to say about assumptions,
They make an ass out of you and me.
So he latched onto that phrase and held his tongue, instead stupidly offering up his couch as a potential permanent bed for someone he knew so little about.
What am I doing? I don't know this kid at all.
Truth be told, he didn't know why he'd said that...it just felt like the thing to say to someone who generally didn't say much at all. Perhaps somehow he felt that by offering to take Leo in that he would be repaying his debts from a time when something similar was offered for him...or perhaps he simply remembered how it felt and wanted to minimize the suffering of someone else.
As he went about the rest of his nightly routine, cleaning up the kitchen, showering, and then getting ready to turn in for the day, he couldn't help but glance over to Leo every once in a while. He sensed that the other man probably wouldn't like it very much...but he couldn't help but pity him. There was something so utterly surreal about watching someone struggle as you had and being able to ease their suffering just a little bit. It was an opportunity that, while he was thankful for, he wished he'd never had. The raven didn't feel good about being able to help Leo...because he'd rather Leo not ever need such help; nobody deserved to be put in such a position.
Yet despite the sympathy he felt for him, he still didn't trust him. He sensed that they were alike, yet also...he didn't truly know Leo Park or what his limits were. Just because another person suffered did not mean that they were automatically good, so he assumed the position he always did in bed.
His back pressed firmly against the wall and his body facing outward into the empty, dark apartment as city lights and dawn began to slip through the little cracks in the blinds of the only window he had. Glimmering streaks across his black comforter that was pulled up just below his nose as he slept; a state of unease and no true rest to be had with someone unfamiliar in his space. Every once in a while, he'd wake, tired and gloomy eyes flitting over Leo to make sure he was still where he should be, before sleep dragged him down into darkness once more.
The raven carried on like this until 6 PM that evening when his alarm clock went off and a heavy, tired sigh escaped him as he reached for the button to silence it. The anxiety of the previous night's encounter had faded like a dream. He had the night off, he could've stayed in bed for a little while longer; but with Leo there he knew he needed to be up. So with a bit of difficulty, he tossed the blanket off of himself, sat up, and stretched; his bones crackling like embers as he yawned and pushed himself to stand.
Once more, his eyes found Leo's perch upon his couch, a hand rubbing the sleep from them with another heavy sigh. He truly didn't want to be awake right now. Milo was one of those who no matter how much sleep they'd gotten, they never really wanted to stop sleeping. Comfort like that was something he wasn't afforded growing up...so he held it especially dear to him in his older years.
Drowsily, he made the trek to his kitchen to start up the coffee pot; yet another thing he couldn't live without. His voice came out like gravel towards Leo, raspy and drier than it was the night before from his delve into the dream realm, as it always was so soon after waking.
CONTENT WARNING direct reference to/recollection of csa, alcoholism
Leo slept like the dead. Hard enough that he’d wake to sheet lines on his cheek and arm, hair all pushed up and messy. He still faced forward but his limbs sprawled out in all directions, the blanket a tangled mess around his legs, one hand on his stomach beneath the bunched up shirt that wasn’t his. Probably could’ve stayed like that through an earthquake, but the sound of footsteps and activity in the kitchen was a different story.
That smell again. So pungent, he could taste the acidic, smoky tang just from breathing it in. It choked up the room enough to rouse him - frustrating for as comfortable as he was. He could’ve slept another five hours. Felt like it’d only been so many.
He inhaled deep as he rolled over to bury his face in the pillow. It was the sort of smell that seeped into everything, the detergent lingering in the cotton pillowcase offering little solace. No matter. He’d do what he could to force himself back into dreamless sleep while he had the opportunity. Who knew if the guy was serious about letting him stay on his couch? He hadn’t realized, but it was the first time he slept not only soundly but safely in...he didn’t even know how long. The last time had to have been sometime in middle school. So he had to take advantage.
Floating in that in-between, the coffee stench began to drip into his subconscious, brewing up some nightmarish memory, and before he could stop it, it was no longer just the coffee.
It was his father’s breath. Similar to the way rain smells sweet when falling but like corpses once it soaks into the ground and all the worms crawl to the surface, coffee too has a distinct scent once it makes it to someone’s tongue. His father's worms were cool mint toothpaste and the burn of cheap Jim Beam that filled more of his mug than the coffee ever did.
It was sandpaper stubble on his unshaved chin tearing into Leo’s, and calloused, emery board fingers squeezing his neck, wearing Leo down to nothing but bone while the popcorn ceiling adorned with a glow-in-the-dark galaxy stared down at the scene. He’d always been afraid that the rough protrusions would fall into his eyes like meteors from between the little green stars while the weight of a body bigger than his own crushed his hands between them. There was asbestos in them, right? Maybe it was the poison in those ceilings that made the man act like that.
His body didn’t allow him the response of jumping awake - it hadn’t been an instinct in a long time.
Instead, he took another big breath, scrunched up his nose like he’d done the previous night at the miasma of brew growing ever-stronger in the small studio, and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling with the back of a hand pressed to his forehead. Popcorn free. If Tokyo had one thing going for itself, it was smooth ceilings. Maybe that was why Milo picked that place.
Evenin’.
Leo’s attention fell to the side, his gaze serving as a wordless response, the still-too-tired boy not the type to be ready to speak just after waking up. He checked the green digital display on the oven behind the guy to read 6:09. In the evening, huh? More than...what? Twelve hours of sleep? And he still couldn’t break the exhaustion.
He heaved a heavy sigh and sat up, rubbing at his face to the tune of a sleepy groan.
“Morning,” was his eventual dazed reply, mumbled in a rasp mirroring Milo’s. Pretending like those awkward final moments before he slept hadn’t happened in hopes that they could just move on, he continued, “Time for work already? No rest for the wicked, huh?”
He swung his feet over the edge of the couch after detangling his legs from that blanket, trying not to make a face as his shoulder screamed in protest of the changes in pressure and position. Man, he wanted to peel back that bandage to get a good look at the healing gash beneath it so bad but fought the urge. It ached so deep - even worse than before Milo cleaned it - and air would probably make it worse. Some help that was. He knew he should’ve just left it to heal on its own.
“I’ll go change out of your clothes.” Leo stood and grabbed his glass of water from the previous night to finish it off. It was stupid of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask the guy for anymore help. Not outside of inquiring, “Care if I use your stuff one more time before I go?”
Occasionally, his stormy eyes rolled over the other as he slept on the couch. All that tossing and turning...
Wonder what he's dreaming about...probably hasn't gotten to sleep long enough to dream in a while...poor thing.
I remember that feeling.
He thought, unaware of just what brand of dream Leo was really having. Milo always woke fucked up after those, teary eyed and shaking... The raven had no clue what he did during that time; perhaps he tossed and turned like Leo.
In truth, that was part of the reason he'd chosen this apartment...because it looked nothing like his childhood home. It wasn't speckled with needless bits of asbestos...nor did it have those telltale stick on stars that most everyone had. Y'know...the ones that only appeared in kids rooms. Had he been thinking of it, he might've gotten sick.
Despite being born there, he wanted nothing with any semblance to it. It was just another bitter reminder. The smooth ceilings of Japan were a welcome change, a little thing he'd be grateful for until the end of time. He didn't want to think about the terror that might've fallen over him if one day he awoke to a popcorn ceiling.
He took a sip of his coffee as he gazed over Leo, well diluted with milk and sugar to the point of it nearly being a dessert. The raven wasn't normally one for sweets but...damn did coffee taste like shit unless you put those things in it; at least in his opinion. His correct opinion.
When the kid greeted him with silence, he couldn't be too surprised; he wasn't a big talker first thing after waking either...hell he wasn't used to anybody being around for him to talk to so soon after rousing. He opted not to do that annoying thing that Jericho used to do: to try and repeat himself until Leo responded.
He tried not to make a face as that guy came to mind, but boy...did he want to grimace at the thought of him. Milo hated him.
The older man took another drink of his coffee, turning to walk away from Leo as he headed to the kitchen. "Morning, time for work already? No rest for the wicked, huh?"
The phrase made him pause, mug still tilted towards his lips.
Huh...might have to remember that one...there's no rest for the wicked.
After a moment, he turned to look at him again, finishing his sip of the caramel colored liquid before he replied, cool and even. "Hah, yeah guess you could say that."
If he was honest, he didn't want to hold onto the awkward events of last night...he knew what their implications were about the other's past. It wasn't his place to pry, if Leo wanted him to know...then he would eventually know.
He ventured off to the kitchen, intent on washing his mug out to use the following evening as he always did before he went about the process of getting ready for work. A shower, fixing his hair, and throwing on his usual garb featuring boots that'd seen better days...they were comfortable though.
The raven had flown away in those boots.
"Want any coffee? How's those cuts feeling?" He asked, voice raising just enough to be heard by Leo, yet not enough to be heard by his neighbors. "I can redress them if you want, probably wouldn't hurt to keep the bandages fresh."
Much to his surprise, Leo slung his feet over the edge of the couch and stood, acting as though he were about to leave. Milo merely watched him curiously, washing his mug out with his hands in the sink as he did so. When the other finally spoke, he nodded quietly, figuring that was what his intentions were.
Though his nodding wasn't, by any means, an indication of agreement.
“Care if I use your stuff one more time before I go?”
"Hmm, was actually thinking about that..." He started, pausing for a little bit as he pondered over his next words, the scent of dish soap in the air and the sound of flowing water filling the silence. "Was actually gonna offer to let you crash on the couch, til you could get something figured out."
Am I really doing this? Just because I woke up unharmed without my shit swiped...?
Some part of him knew it wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, to open his home to a stranger. Perhaps it would bite him in the ass but...he'd rather take the chance than watch Leo get hauled away in a body bag. If that happened...he'd have never forgiven himself, knowing he could've done something to help the kid.
Besides...not so many years ago, his boss took a risk on him and gave him a chance. Some kid from America who barely spoke Japanese, one that'd actually stolen food from him before, and yet he still gave him a shot. He didn't want to be dramatic but, some part of him knew that he would've died out there eventually.
Or gotten thrown in jail for stealing and ended up wishing he was dead.
"There is a catch though...well three or four." The raven thought it was better to be upfront, at least so Leo knew what the expectations were of this deal if he chose to take it. He paused another time after speaking, rinsing the white mug until it was pristine and cutting the water off. His hand reached for a towel hung on the age old oven, drying the ceramic as he turned to face and spoke to Leo again and named his terms.
"Don't bring chaos in here. Don't steal from me. Clean up after yourself and ask before you touch or use anything."
He saw no point in beating around the bush as he cut to the point, notably not making any mentions of rent or food money. Some part of him hoped Leo would take it, even if it was perhaps one of Milo's less brilliant ideas. Well...less brilliant was sugar coating it, it was stupid. He knew it was stupid, he knew he got nothing out of housing the other for free. His boss hadn't gotten anything out of taking a risk on him either. "That's it."
He didn't care what his willingness to try and help this kid said about him, whether it meant he had a savior complex or was a fool; in the grand scheme of things it didn't matter.
"I'm not gonna stop you if you want to go, but the offer's there..."
