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And then there's Tosh. Rolling from side to side in the large bed, trying to figure out what it is that he misses.
The blankets are still warm, warmth from a body that used to lie there. He knows it was there, next to him, but he can't remember who it is. He just knows that he has to miss it and that when he remembers, he'll be hurting.
Hurting is fine, it's fine as long as he knows. As long as he knows what it is that makes him feel like that.
But he doesn't, and she won't tell him.
Rolling over the edge he drops himself from the bed. He winces, not from the pain, but from his warm skin touching the cold wooden floor. He hadn't thought it'd be that cold but it relaxes him in a way, thus he stays put there for a while, getting comfortable with the hard surface underneath him.
When he finally gets up he walks through his room, touching his possessions, remembering who it was that gave them to him. He remembers it all, but it's not the person he misses. They are all still here.
He then searches in his closet. Pants, shirts and shoes flying out of it landing somewhere in his room. He knows he'll have to clean it in a bit, or else Karin will come and smack him, but not now. Not yet.
He remembers every little detail of every shirt,  pants, shoe and sock he ever bought. Where, which store, the face of the person who sold it to him and with who he was.
Slowly he starts to think he's becoming insane. Missing something that was never there to begin with.

He wants to ask, but he also wants answers. Answers that are most likely not going to be given to him. Whether it is because they don't know, or he's not supposed to hear them.
And then he finds it. A leather jacket. Expensive brand, soft leather black as the night. In its pocket are some sunglasses sticking out and for the first time Tosh doesn't know where he got it from. Or who.
He runs a hand through his white hair and his green eyes observe every inch of the jacket. Trying to find a message. A hint.
He gets up with the jacket, running downstairs and nearly falling off as he does so. When he comes running into the living room he sees Yasuo. Tall, sweet, sarcastic Yasu. The younger man is reading his newspaper. Only looking up briefly when Tosh enters the living room, giving a quick nod as a greeting and returning to his one and only love...
Wait, that's not right either. Yasu should miss something too.
"Yas!" he shrieks, and the brown haired male looks up, his brown eyes piercing right through him. "I don't know Tosh. I know you've been asking her who you miss. But I don't know."
For a second the white-haired man is disappointed. He pouts and turns away, turning back on his heels again and showing him the jacket, "but this..."
The other registers the jacket, searching for something and Tosh is sure he sees a little bit of recognition in the other's eyes before he turns back. "You probably bought it yourself."
"I didn't. I know I didn't Yas," and he pouts again. But the other doesn't look at him anymore, ignoring his friend for the warm comfort of his newspaper.

Tosh stomps away, finding Koji and Karin in the kitchen. The couple is cooking or-- attempting to do so.
"Hey guys, do you know where his jacket comes from?"
Koji turns around and surprisingly answers, "you got that for your birthday, didn't you?"
Tosh blinks and looks back at the jacket, eying the blond man afterwards. "Who gave it to me?"
"I don't know," the other shrugs, "but you were really happy with it. Right, Kari?"
Karin looks a little bit more thoughtful than her spouse, but also nods and repeats softly, "really happy."
Tosh wants to ask more, but he can't. He turns away and runs back to his room again.

And there's Tosh. Sitting in the middle of hiss room, huddled way behind a stash of cloths hugging the jacket. Crying.origi Knowing, he misses him.

on 2010-09-21 11:52 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] hikicha.livejournal.com
I can't believe I actually read a boy x boy story...
you tricked me with that name Tosh.. I read because I like the name Tosh.. DX

on 2010-09-22 02:56 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] hikicha.livejournal.com
you are guilty,missy. XP

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