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Corybantic Dance	By : fantards Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 845 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Disclaimer:
Naruto is not our toy, although sometimes we wish it was.
Almost everyone you meet here belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, we just
borrow them, occasionally. Hayate's parents, Gekkou Ken'ichirou and
Gekkou Shizuka, belong to Haya Madison, and Genma's mother, Shiranui
Riza, is all Penbrydd's fault.
Authors' Notes:
Penbrydd would like to point out that both he and Genma find the
injuries in this chapter rather entertaining.
The Wryly Fantarding Q&A panel
for Corybantic Dance is still located at wrylyfantarding.
livejournal. com / 5948. html
Warnings: Violence,
expletives, eventual yaoi (KoIzu, KoIzuRai (more funny than sexy),
GenHaya).
***
Chapter 12
Genma stood outside Hayate's door,
rubbing at his swollen and scabbed lip, trying to find the strength
of will to knock. He wasn't pretty, anymore, and he hoped that would
help. It's hard to be inadvertently threatening when you look like
you've met the wrong end of a few bricks. He hadn't, of course, but
he had met the same fist repeatedly, as well as several other body
parts. He had been sitting down very carefully, all day,
praying that he wouldn't start to bleed again. Whatever else may have
happened, he felt much better about himself, now. Taking a last deep
breath, he knocked at the door, and turned his face away.
There
was a long pause followed by some muffled yelling from within the
house. The seconds dragged on as Genma waited, relief coming as he
heard a set of footsteps heading for the door. The front door opened,
hinges creaking, but instead of the skinny little frosh Genma had
come to see, there was a taller, dark-haired man in the doorway --
Hayate's father. Genma had met him at least once before when Raidou
had driven the both of them home and Genma had insisted on walking
Hayate to the door. The kid had thought that a little bit weird at
the time, but Genma was immensely glad that this was not his first
meeting with the kid's dad.
The man blinked at Genma once
before recognition flickered over his face. It was easy to see that
Hayate had gotten his blank stoicism from his father. "Hello.
You're one of Hayate's friends, right? Ah...Genma, right?"
"Yes,
sir. I know it's probably a little hard to tell right now. Is Hayate
home?" Genma met the man's eyes, locking down everything other
than the empty zen calm.
"Yes, he's home -- what happened
to you there?" Hayate's father frowned in concern, peering at
Genma's face. "Do you need some ice for that, Genma?"
"It's
fine. I really had it coming. It's last night's damage, anyway. The
ice isn't going to do much, now, but thank you." Genma smiled a
little bit, the less swelled side of his face responding far better
than the blackened side. Whoever had hit him had obviously been left
handed.
Hayate's father studied him with a critical but
genuinely concerned eye for another moment or two, but finally
dropped the subject, much to Genma's relief. "Hayate's home, but
he's been out of sorts since yesterday." He seemed to know what
had happened, at least a little bit, but didn't allude to it. "You're
more than welcome to come in and talk to him, but I can't make any
promises about his mood. I'm sorry."
"Thank you. I'm
here to apologise, anyway. I'm sorry to have let him go home like
that. I'm sorry to have pissed him off like that." Genma looked
up as he passed the man in the doorway, sadness in the eye that
wasn't swollen shut. "My mistake, sir. I'll try to make it
better."
Hayate's father didn't comment on whatever Genma
had done, and it was hard to tell if he knew or not. "His door's
closed, but don't knock. Just go right in. If he complains about it,
just tell him I sent you." He kept his voice quiet, and put his
hand briefly on Genma's shoulder before turning to close the
door.
"Thank you very much, sir." Genma walked up
the hall and took a deep breath before opening the door at the far
end. He kept his face turned to the side, and his hair hid the damage
on the less-bruised side.
"Hayate? I came to apologise,
but before you see me, you need to know it wasn't Anko who did this.
Your dad said I should just come in, but that seemed a little rude,
and...ah, here I am." He stepped into the room and closed the
door behind him, turning his face into the light so he could look at
Hayate. The kid was sitting on his bed with the covers drawn up to
his waist, looking like he'd just woken from a nap. His guarded,
almost offended-looking expression was overlaid with sleepiness, and
something that might have been curious concern flickered over his
face as he reached up to rub his eye.
"Okay," he
said dully, and even if it seemed like he was curious about who had
done that to Genma, he didn't voice it. He crossed his legs under the
blankets, watching Genma with that creepily unblinking gaze. Face
framed by coarse dark hair, his eyes almost looked sunken in his pale
face. The dark rings under his eyes were coloured with an overtone of
bruised purple that was hard to catch except in certain light. He
looked thinner than ever, his small frame dwarfed by the oversized
t-shirt that he wore -- probably borrowed from his father.
"Your
concern has been duly noted, but it is misplaced. I'm better for it."
It was impossible to tell if Genma was commenting on the mildly
concerned look, or the lack of a question about his health. "Just
let me tell this story, and then you can ask me whatever you want, or
throw me out, or whatever it is you want. I need to try to explain
myself so you'll understand the spirit in which this apology is
offered."
Hayate just leaned into the corner against
which his bed was positioned, picking up his rumpled pillow and
hugging it loosely to his chest. "I wouldn't throw you out,"
he said. "That would be rude."
The ultra-fag
switched on for a split second, as Genma tried to lighten the mood a
bit. "Oh, honey, that ain't rude. I know rude a --" As he
flipped his hand, and brought his knees together, one knee decided
that it had put up with more than enough shit in the last twenty-two
hours and refused to support his weight anymore. Genma sat down on
the floor rather hard, sinking his teeth into his shoulder as a small
noise of surprised pain escaped him. He sat very still for a long
moment. "Sorry. Bad knee. Don't, you know, mention it to anyone
else, all right?" He pulled one leg out in front of himself and
jiggled the kneecap experimentally. "But, ah, I came to tell a
story. I should start with the part where I say that you're my
friend, and as such, you get almost the respect I'd give Raidou and
maybe a bit more than Aoba, if only because he's so frequently
irritating. I care what happens to you, and I don't want to see you
get stuck in the middle of something that's got nothing to do with
you." Genma nodded, reassuring himself that he was doing the
right thing. "Anko's got nothing personal about you, one way or
the other. She has, however, got something personal about me. I
wasn't kidding about the trying to cut it off thing. She can't
imagine that she won't get what she wants, and what she wants is me.
I'm not even worth the trouble, but I've got this thing against
sticking my dick in crazy people. Especially the kind who look like
they're going to get clingy and demanding." He shifted
uncomfortably. "Anyway, I guess she decided that if she can't
have me, she'll just take everything away from me. It works poorly,
most times, but she keeps trying. I guess she caught me watching you
-- you know, because I worry," he added quickly. "You're a
friend. She decided that if I had an interest, she'd beat me to it.
It shouldn't be like that. I don't want you getting that kind of
attention because of some fucked up thing that's probably my fault,
in the end. I'm sorry this happened at all -- any of it. If you just
want me to stay away from you..." He closed his eyes and braced
himself. "I'll do it."
Hayate was silent for a good
while, tugging at a loose thread on his pillowcase, but he didn't
take his eyes off of Genma. They seemed to almost be boring holes in
the senior, right through his skull and into the wall, in a merciless
kind of way. The only sound was of the kid's slightly wheezy
breathing, in and out -- he didn't even cough.
"If you
didn't do anything at all," he said, "then it would have
been fine."
"I'm sorry. I was afraid for you. I was
fucking terrified of what she might do to you in some sick attempt at
getting back at me. I was so afraid she was going to hurt you. I know
you can take care of yourself, but I couldn't help myself. I was so
goddamn scared." Genma shook his head and looked up pleadingly.

"Look at my face. Really look at it. Now consider what it would
take to scare me, okay?"
Hayate would have liked to say
that he was already looking, but he wasn't, not in every sense of the
word. He studied Genma's bruised and swollen face with an unchanging
expression, eyes looking almost thoughtful behind all the tiredness.
"Why?" he asked plainly.
Genma blinked. "Why?
Why what? Why should you consider it? I have no answer for that. Why
did I go get my face broken? I don't want to talk about it. Why do I
care? Because I like you. You're pretty damned cool. Why was I
scared? Because she once came after my dick with a sharp
object. It's enough to put a healthy fear in any man. Any of
those what you were asking?"
"You only know me a
little. You can't really --" Hayate broke off, looking down at
the pillow in his hands and the tiny thread wound around his fingers.
"If you knew she was so crazy, then why did you put me with
her?"
"Point the first." Genma held up one
finger. "I know you better than Kotetsu does, and he was ready
to beat the life out of her for what she did to you. Sort of house
rules where we are that you at least mention that you're going to do
some shit like that before you do it. She crossed a pretty firmly
engraved line, and you're one of us, now. If we didn't look out for
you, we'd be shitty friends." He raised another finger. "Point
the second: We had space in props. That's where we needed people. And
I -- I really didn't expect her to go after you. She's crazy and
occasionally nasty, but she'd only ever come after me, like that. I
think I'm wearing the proof of how common that sort of thing is.
Nobody thought twice about her going after me. I'm just a target, but
you... She steals my pens. She steals my shirts. She's lied about me
to try to steal my friends, but this is the first time it's ever
gotten physical. I don't know what she thinks is going on between us,
but... I really don't think she'll do it again, if that's worth
anything. I think Kotetsu's got her scared enough to stop
trying."
Hayate just sort of
shrugged, picking at the pillowcase some more. "I don't like
fighting," he muttered. He didn't like the violence. He hated
the conflict -- he always had. His first instinct at a sign of
conflict was to run away and get far away from it. He thought he'd
been doing a pretty good job until Genma showed up.
"You
can think of us as your defence against it. Ko and I get hit so you
don't have to. Raidou does it for me, you know. Big motherfucker like
that takes quite a beating before he goes down. He's not going to be
real happy when he sees this mess..." Genma picked at a scab on
his lip, licking away the blood that drizzled from it. "Best I
can do is offer to make sure you don't see it when it has to happen.
I'm not just talking about Anko, here. I'm talking about those
assholes on the day we met. I'm talking about anything that thinks
you're just some little scrap to be kicked around. They're going to
get me, instead, if I can help it. Sure you can take care of
yourself, but there's no virtue in getting destroyed when someone
else can make sure that you walk away in one piece. I'm sorry. I'm
really sorry, but I do care. I don't want people to do bad
things to you."
Hayate was down to examining his
fingernails now, picking out the dirt and grime that had accumulated
underneath them. They needed cutting, he thought, just as his father
had been telling him for the past week. "They don't," he
said quietly. "I run away, so they don't. They can't get me if I
hide here." Genma didn't understand, he realized. Genma didn't
understand that it wasn't just the fighting that hit him that he
didn't like. He didn't like any fighting on his account. Especially
on his account. It was just as bad, maybe worse, if Kotetsu or Genma
got hurt instead of him. He just didn't like the conflict.
"You
can't hide here forev --" Genma cut himself off, and tried to
stand up. He failed, hitting the ground again with a sharp grunt of
pain. "You know what? Never mind. I can see that I'm just as
useless to you as I am to everyone else. And worse than that, you
don't even want me for anything." He failed twice more
with much the same results. "I know enough to leave when I'm not
wanted. I just need to get up first." His voice was
strained.
For the first time during their conversation, the
calm on Hayate's face was disturbed, touched with mild panic. "I
didn't -- you're..." There were too many words trying to get
out, and his mouth was too small, and they all got jammed in his
mouth, tripping and tumbling and mixing up. His hands fell away from
the pillowcase and he swallowed dryly. "But you're my friend,"

he said, voice too small. It wasn't the first thing he'd wanted to
say at all, but it was the only thing he could get out.
Genma
stopped struggling to stand. "Yes. That's right. In my world,
that's what drives me to fight for you. To defend you from anything I
can. To protect you while you go after your dreams. I don't even know
what your dreams are, but I'll face down anything that tries to stop
you from getting to them. I pay for my own existence in what I can do
to help other people. It makes me worthwhile. It's all I have to
offer."
"But I don't want you to fight. I hate that.
I can just run away, so no one has to fight or get hurt. I don't need
that from you. I don't want that from you. I just..."
Hayate was back to picking at the pillowcase, a fidgety nervous
habit. "I just like it when you talk to me, sometimes. When you
and Kotetsu and Izumo and Aoba pay attention to me sometimes. Too
much of it is weird, but it makes me feel like I'm really there.
That's all."
"I can't promise you that I won't fight
for you. It's a little too ingrained. It's too much of what I am to
just turn it off. I can promise you that I'll talk to you, though.
I'll tell you silly stories and anything that I know that you want
to. Be careful with that last -- it's a dangerous thing. Don't ask if
you're not sure you want to know, because I'll probably tell you."
Genma shifted uncomfortably, again, taking a moment to rub at his
knee. "If it's not too much to ask, would you come down here so
I can give you a hug? I'd get up, but I'll probably need help with
that, anyway..."
Hayate seemed to squeeze his pillow for
a moment before dropping it, and he hiccuped audibly, sliding off the
bed. He half-walked, half-crawled over to Genma, sniffling as he drew
close enough for a hug. Genma reached out and dragged the kid the
last few inches toward him, wrapping his arms around the thin body.
"Are you crying?"
Hayate pointedly pressed his
forehead into Genma's shoulder. "No," came the muffled,
thick-voiced reply, sounding indignant and mildly offended.
"Good.
I'd have been sad about that, I think." Genma buried his face in
Hayate's hair. "I'm sorry I upset you. I can't promise you it
won't happen again, but I'll do what I can for you without
sacrificing my own rather minimal sense of worth. I really do enjoy
your company, and I'd miss you if you decided never to see me again.
That and I'm kind of hooked on the hugs. You smell good. You smell
like you, and that's different from the way Rai smells, or
Izumo."
Hayate hiccuped again and pulled back, giving
Genma one of his patent weirded out looks. "You're so weird,"

he said, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand.
"Yeah,
I am that. And you're --" delicious. "You smell
good. I'm serious. Pfft. Whatever. You don't believe me. I see how
you are..." Genma smiled with the side of his face that worked
properly and poked Hayate in the shoulder. "You want me to go
away, or d'you want me to sit here and run my mouth for your
amusement, for a bit? I ask because you look a bit tired."
"I
always look tired. I thought your leg wasn't working."
"Just
because I can't stand up by myself doesn't mean I can't stay up once
I get there. It's that sitting-standing transition that gives me
trouble. I get less support while my knee's bent. I'll be going up
the stairs backward and on my ass, tonight." Genma shrugged.
"Vagaries of fate. Was that an invitation to stay put?"
Hayate
shrugged. "You can go home if you want. Or you can stay. I don't
mind either way." He started to pull away from Genma, wrists
cracking audibly as he did so.
Genma shook his head at the
popping sounds. "Some pair we make, eh? We sound like a bowl of
Rice Krispies." He stretched one leg, popping his hip with a
dull thump. "I'd, ah, like to stay here and amuse you as long as
you'll allow it. You need only pick a topic, and I shall ramble at
length." He looked a bit dismayed as Hayate backed up.
Hayate
sat back on the worn wooden floor and stretched out his legs, wincing
as he heard his knees and ankles crack as well. He grabbed his pillow
from the low-sitting bed and tucked it under his head, lying on his
side on the floor in front of the bed. "I dunno..." He
yawned briefly, but didn't look terribly sleepy besides. "What
do you want to do?" It felt weird, to be sure, to have his
friend -- his friend -- sitting in his room, doing nothing but
killing time. But at the same time, he found himself enjoying
it.
Genma stretched up, rolling his shoulders to pop his back
almost all the way down. He found it amusing to match the kid crack
for pop. "I dunno. If you were Rai, I'd either be rubbing your
back or making boob jokes, by now. If we weren't friends, I'd be on
my knees getting my face painted. I suspect there are things you'd
like to hear about, so why don't you ask questions, and I'll make
myself be honest about the answers? It'll be like truth or dare."
"I
dunno. I know there are things I don't want to hear about."

Hayate looked at Genma cautiously. "Maybe there's things you
want to tell me instead."
"I can tell you the story
about my knee. That one's still stupid as hell. Or, I suppose I can
tell you about the man who mistook his wang for a sausage -- another
classic accident... I could start at -- no, you really don't want to
know that, I think... The -- no, not that one either. How about the
time that Rai made a serious impression on some folks, and totally
saved my ass when we were freshmen?" Genma was counting off
possibilities on his fingers.
Hayate pushed the pillow out
from underneath him, closer to Genma, and rolled onto his stomach. He
rested his arms on the pillow, placing his chin on top of them, and
looked at Genma. "Is that one happy? I don't want to hear about
anything unhappy today."
"It was happy for me,
that's for sure. It's a little scary at the start, but it's a story
of daring heroics that only contains a single punch! Most of my happy
stories are stuff I'm pretty sure you don't really want to hear. They
tend to involve either fucking or questionably legal activities."
Genma grinned and stretched out sideways, propping his head on his
hand.
Hayate made a face and shook his head. "I want to
hear the one about your freshman year, then." He sat up, holding
his pillow out. "Do you want my pillow?" he offered, just a
bit hesitantly. He was normally fairly iffy about other people
touching his things to the point where he had used to disallow people
from even entering his room when he'd been younger. He was better
now, but it was still pushing outside his comfort zone.
"I
don't need it. My knee's fucked up, not my elbow. Lay back down and
quit worrying about me." After a moment of hesitation, the kid
complied. Genma was just a bit worried about himself, mostly because
he was leaning directly on a bruise, but he wasn't about to mention
that. "Story about freshman year... Well, I'm standing in the
john, doing those things one goes to the john to do, when these three
jocks come up behind me. I don't quite recall what was said, but I
know the phrases 'little girl', 'pretty princess', and 'fagwhore'
were in there somewhere. Obviously, I had a
face like a beauty queen, at the time -- I've since grown a chin --
and they weren't real creative. So one of them grabs me by the
hair, and I'm pretty flipped out about the whole thing -- pants
around my knees, about to get my face beat in by some boring-assed
jocks. And Rai just decides I've been gone too long...you know he was
six foot, even then? He comes in and stares these fuckers down, and
he's like, 'What are you fuckwits doing with my pet freshman?'"

Genma laughed. "He's a frosh, too, of course, but at that size,
who's gonna know? Anyway, it takes the guy holding onto me just a
second too long to respond, and Rai hauls off and busts him in the
face. Bounces the guy off the floor, and the other two just grab the
first guy and drag him out the door, all apologising and shit. So,
there I am, sitting on the floor in a puddle of my own piss,
half-wearing pants, and Rai says to me, 'Man, I just can't leave you
alone! You're like candy -- everybody wants a piece.'" Genma
blushed just a bit, remembering his own absolute horror at the time.
"It was great. I don't think I went to the john by myself for
the rest of the semester."
Hayate looked and sounded like
he was laughing quietly, though it was hard to tell -- his voice was
a little muffled by the pillow, and his face was half-covered by his
arms. "You're really lucky, I think. To have Raidou."
"I
am the luckiest man alive, besides perhaps Kotetsu. He's fucking
his best friend. I'm just jealous." Genma laughed a bit. "Of
course, Izumo's a little scary in his own right, sometimes. I don't
envy Ko the endless procession of slaps he gets." There was a
long pause. "You know, I'd tell another story, but I think all
of them involve dick to a greater or lesser degree... the last one
included, on the lesser end, of course."
"Oh."

Hayate shrugged. "But those aren't always good, right? Those
stories. Because you talked about Anko, and -- well that's one of
those stories, too, so, um...I don't know." He shrugged again,
rolling onto his back and propping his feet up on the edge of his
bed.
"I can tell you about Anko. It's not real pleasant,
but it definitely contains great peril to my junk, if you find that
sort of thing amusing, which I tend to -- after the fact, of course.
When I can look back and congratulate myself on not having
been castrated." The laugh was a bit nervous, this time. Genma
tried to smile lazily at Hayate, but it didn't come across well with
his face the way it was. "I'll tell you anything you want to
know. All you have to do is ask."
Hayate made a face,
shaking his head. "I don't think I want to hear all about that
right now." He reached to touch his toes, stretching his legs up
over himself. "I don't think I like Anko very much anyway. She's
okay sometimes. But she's not my friend."
"I'm not
exactly a fan, myself, but I really think she's quite through giving
you shit. Ko and I had a talk with her, today, and for all that
she'll bullshit me, I don't think she'll even try it with him. He's
made the point that you're a person, not one of my shirts, and that
she'd goddamn well better start treating you like one, and not like
some extension of me." Genma reached out and patted Hayate's
arm. Hayate just sort of shrugged.
"It's not really a big
deal anyway." He absently fingered a hole over the stomach of
his t-shirt, turning his eyes up onto the ceiling.
"It's
a fucking huge deal. You're crew, now. We'd have a shit time putting
this show on without you. I want you comfortable, first because I
like you, and second so that you can keep doing good work. You notice
the other two props fags have been coming to you, instead of to her?
You don't scare the shit out of them, even if you are a little
unsettling. Frankie thinks you're a demigod and Ches is convinced
you're some kind of re-incarnation of Jesus or something." With
a faint smile, Genma took Hayate's hand in his own. "You're good
at what you do, and the crew really likes you. Don't let Bitchzilla
fuck that up for you."
"...Oh." Hayate turned
to look at Genma for a moment before he went back to staring at the
ceiling, and his expression was faintly guilty.
"Hey,
hey, what's wrong? What did I say?" Genma squeezed the kid's
hand, gently. Hayate tugged it out of his grip to cover his mouth as
he coughed.
"I'm not going back," he mumbled into
his hand.
Genma looked away. "Your will, kid. I'll miss
you. We all will." He sounded hurt. "I'd rather have you
with us, but I guess I'm just kind of selfish like that. Really makes
my day, you know, having somebody competent and not Anko working
props. Also really makes my day that I get to come piss around with
you in the green room when she's not looking. You stick with it, I
think you could replace her, next year. But, you know... Your will.
Not mine."
Hayate sat up, knocking the pillow away, and
looked at Genma. "I'm sorry," he said, narrow shoulders
hanging down. "I just...I don't want to get hurt or anything. I
don't like Anko. She's...you're still my friend, right?"
"I'm
absolutely still your friend. And so is Kotetsu. I'm pretty sure
you'd get the same answer from Izumo and Aoba, too, and those two
props fags who refuse to believe you're a frosh. Everyone knows

something happened, but we've managed to keep it pretty quiet
exactly what. Pissed a lot of people off, and they're all looking out
for you." He left out the point where it was his own screams
that had gotten that reaction. The normally unflappable stage manager
did not make noises like that. "Anko's pissed off most of
the department. You might be new, but we like you. Nobody's
going to let you get hurt. Anko's not stupid, either. I really doubt
she'd try. She'll probably just come after me again, and that's going
to happen whether you're there or not."
Hayate fell
silent, looking at Genma with something of a helpless expression on
his face. He got up, picking up his pillow, and threw it onto the
bed. "I don't know." He sounded mildly frustrated,
uncomfortable -- upset that he couldn't quite decide.
Genma
sighed. "Come back with me. If anybody starts with you again, go
home and I'll never bring it up again." It was completely
against his instincts to push like this, but Genma was a rather
self-interested creature at times. "I know it's a lot to ask,
but trust me. Trust me this once."
Hayate sat down on his
bed heavily, flinging his hands down onto his lap. He looked at Genma
uneasily for a moment before flopping onto his back. He narrowly
avoided smacking the back of his head against the wall. "Do you
play chess?"
"Occasionally. Rai beats my ass every
goddamn time." Genma looked vaguely amused. "Why do you
ask?"
Hayate pushed the pillow to the end of the bed with
his feet, kneading it and curling his toes against it. "I'll go
back to tech if you come to chess club just once."
"Done."

As Genma gazed up into the kid's eyes, there was not even a hint of
doubt in his voice or his face. The decision and the answer were
almost instantaneous. Hayate turned his head to look at Genma,
looking faintly surprised.
"Okay." He pinched his
toes around the pillowcase idly, just fidgeting with his feet. "I'll
go tomorrow."
Genma meant to leap up and hug the kid, but
his knee was still not amused with the idea of allowing him to become
vertical. After making it most of the way up, the knee failed yet
again, and Genma's face met the edge of the bed. "Must stop
trying to stand up. I should probably get the brace back on that
before I do something stupid. Sorry if I bled on your sheets -- I got
a little excited. Leaping with glee is just not going to work right
now." He giggled inanely for a moment.
"It's okay.
The sheets are black anyway..." Hayate peered at Genma with a
touch of alarmed concern. "Um...are you okay, Genma?"
"Fuck.
Ow. Yeah. I'm fine." Genma was trying to untwist himself from
where he'd fallen. "I don't suppose you'd like to help me up? I
can stand if you help me get there. It's the getting up part that's
killing me." He looked wry and somewhat irritated with himself
as he held his hand out in supplication.
Hayate spared his
pillow any further probing from his toes and sat up, swinging his
legs over the edge of the bed. He took Genma's hands in his own,
trying to help Genma to his feet. "You can sit on my bed,"

he offered with a little grunt as he pulled Genma's arms.
With
a few grunts and curses, Genma managed to get himself settled on the
edge of the bed. He reached over and hugged Hayate. "Little
black angel of peeling my ass off the floor. Thanks, kid. You're good
to me." Sitting on the bed, Genma found himself enveloped in
Hayate's scent. It was rather distracting, but he managed to fight
down his default urges to do stupid things.
"You were
nice to me first," Hayate pointed out absently, reaching over
Genma to get his pillow back. He leaned against the wall, hugging the
pillow to his waist. "What's wrong with your leg, anyway? My
knees are bad, but they don't do that. Do you need ice or
something?"
"Nah, it'll be okay. Really." Genma
pounded on the side of his knee, absently, groaning blissfully when
it finally popped. "I, ah...it was a bike accident. Dirtbike
racing. I sort of destroyed the middle of my leg, and now there's
nothing holding my kneecap on. It migrates, occasionally." He
was silent for a long stretch, looking at his leg. "My leg and
Rai's face. I got out easy."
"...Oh. So that's
what..." Hayate shifted uncomfortably. A terribly awkward
silence followed. "I'm sorry." It didn't seem to be enough,
and suddenly he thought he might understand what some people felt
when they talked to him -- when some people heard or figured out what
was wrong with him.
"Yeah. I think you get it."

Genma offered a grim smile. "It's just part of me, now. This is
how I function. Nothing serious."
"It's not serious
unless you're dying." Hayate echoed the words he'd once heard
his mother say. He was fairly certain that she'd never meant it to
apply to him, but he took the words to heart anyway. He liked to
think that maybe it was some sort of distant comfort. "Um...do
you want a drink or something?" he asked hesitantly, remembering
the manners that had been drilled into him by his mother.
"Excellent
philosophy. Every time you open your mouth I find something else to
like about you." A rather smutty thought shot through Genma's
mind as the words left his mouth, but he wisely kept it to himself.
"Pass on the drink. I've imposed enough. Besides, I'm not
thirsty." He seriously considered going home and finishing the
bottle of Jamie and just passing out. The pain in his knee was
starting to fade out, but it just brought the pain in his ass into
sharper focus. He shifted slightly and paled where he wasn't bruised
as he felt the warm, sticky trickle start again. The change in
expression didn't quite escape Hayate's notice, and the kid
frowned.
"What's wrong?" he asked
bluntly.
"Bleeding again." Genma shifted
uncomfortably. For as much as he hurt, the painful throb where the
scabs had split felt good -- dangerously good. He felt his
body start to respond, but pulled the static in
his head back up, blocking out as much as he could. Hayate watched
him with some degree of alarm before getting to his feet. He couldn't
just sit there and do nothing.
"I'm
gonna go get my dad."
"Don't
bother. Like you, I can take care of myself. Just give me a hand up,
and I'll go." Genma held his hand out, expectantly.
Hayate
gave him an uneasy, concerned stare, but helped Genma to his feet
anyway. "I'm gonna ask my dad to drive you home anyway," he
told Genma, and without waiting for an answer from the senior, he
bounded from his room, presumably to talk to his father. He returned
moments later, looking decidedly pleased with himself.
"Dad
said he'd drive you home," he said to Genma, slipping his feet
into his shoes. "We're going now. I'm coming, too."
Genma
quietly hugged Hayate from behind. "Thanks, kid. Thanks for
everything. Especially for not tossing me out on my ass before I
could explain myself." Hayate smelled fascinatingly
exotic, Genma decided. Hayate just nodded, rolling his
shoulders noncommittally.
"You're my friend," he
said, half-mumbling, and started to pull away. "I can't not
listen."
"We've all got our ethical quirks..."

Genma let go and looked inquisitively at Hayate, obviously waiting
for a clue. He gestured for the kid to precede him out of the room.
Hayate nodded and shuffled out of the room ahead of Genma, making
sure not to go too fast. His father was already waiting at the front
door a little bit down the hall, keys in hand.
Genma nodded to
Hayate's dad. "Thank you, sir. It's only a few blocks, but my
knee is a bit tricky, tonight." He looked up, hoping to impart
some small part of what he wasn't going to say in front of
Hayate. I think I fixed it. He looks better, now. He's not mad at
me, anymore.
It was hard to tell whether or not Hayate's
father got the message, but he nodded and put a hand on his son's
head. "All ready to go? You going to be all right,
Genma?"
"I'll be fine. I'm not going to die from it,
however bad it might look. I've walked away from worse." Genma
followed the two out of the house and climbed into the car -- front
seat, but only because Hayate's dad offered, and the kid was already
climbing into the back seat complacently. Hayate didn't talk much and
neither did his father, save for asking Genma his address, as they
pulled out of the narrow driveway and headed down the cracked
street.
A few minutes later, Hayate helped Genma out of the
car in front of the apartment building. Genma was careful to put more
of his weight on the oh-shit handle than on the kid as he struggled
to his feet. "Thank you both. You've been very kind." He
snuck in one more hug, pulling Hayate to him for just a moment.

"Especially you." Letting go with a smile, he limped up the
walk toward the building. "Take care of yourself, kid!
Goodnight!" he called back as he unlocked the door and vanished
into the building.
- 11
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Corybantic Dance