beneath the ink

writing blog. mostly Sk8. slow burns, complicated feelings, and things left unsaid

[beneaththeink]

"You could just admit you missed me."

Kaoru doesn't even look up from his tea.

"I could also throw this cup at your head."

Kojiro grins, taking the duffel bag off his shoulder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

This time, Kaoru looks up.

"Shut up."

He doesn't throw the cup.

ㅤ

[beneaththeink]

Finally, some news on season 2 🎉

[beneaththeink]

Whether you look it up in the Oxford English Dictionary or Merriam-Webster, the entry for "overthinking" features a picture of Sakurayashiki Kaoru.

[beneaththeink]

I don't think Kojiro ever expects Kaoru to become someone softer.

He simply hopes one day he'll be gentle with himself.

[pochiikou]

[beneaththeink]

When Kaoru realizes he's fallen in love with his best friend, it's not butterflies in his stomach.

It's overwhelming.

Terrifying.

[beneaththeink]

The park bench sits tucked away behind a low bush, just off the main path. A narrow trail leads straight to the river; an inscription has been scrawled across the backrest in permanent marker.

Kojiro nods toward the bench.

"Wanna sit down?"

The moon is shining so brightly that the trees cast sharp shadows across the grass. A little further away, right by the water's edge, two people are sitting close together. Kaoru watches them for a while, then looks down at his hands.

"When it happened..."

He glances sideways at Kojiro, then looks down again.

"...did you want me?"

"I wanted you," Kojiro answers softly.

"I just never wanted it to happen this way."

A gentle smile tugs at his lips, his gaze lingering on Kaoru.

Kaoru's fingers curl a little tighter around each other.

[beneaththeink]

Writing is hard.

I've reached the point where every conversation between these two turns into emotional chess.

One of them knows exactly what he's doing.

The other one is Kaoru.

[beneaththeink]

Kojiro is trying very hard to be supportive.

Kaoru is trying very hard to make that as difficult as possible.

🥲

[beneaththeink]

Today's writing problem:

Kaoru refuses to communicate.

This is shocking news to absolutely nobody.

[hs2001]

手持ちのチョーカーをつけてあげた(似合う)

I thought it would look good on Kaoru, so I put on a choker I had lying around.

[beneaththeink]

The next day passes quietly. Too quietly.

Kojiro leaves for work early, lingering near the door a fraction too long, as if he wants to say something and decides against it at the last second.

Kaoru doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t want to. The apartment settles into silence afterward.

The rain finally stopped sometime during the night, leaving the city outside washed clean and painfully bright beneath pale morning sunlight.

Kaoru drifts through the rooms without purpose. Tea gone cold on the counter. Book left open and forgotten again. He plops down on the couch, turns on the TV, and has to choose between a documentary about peas and some office rom-com. Fantastic.

Around midday, the doorbell rings.

Once.

Kaoru stills automatically. The sound cuts through the apartment cleanly enough that something tightens low beneath his ribs before he can place why.

For one brief second, he almost assumes it’s Kojiro. Maybe he forgot something. The thought barely forms before Kaoru is already moving toward the door.

Reflex again. The lock clicks open softly beneath his fingers.

The moment the door swings inward - pain explodes across his face.

The impact snaps his head violently sideways, hard enough to send him stumbling backward into the wall beside the entrance.

For one disorienting second, Kaoru doesn’t understand what happened. Then his cheek starts burning.

A faint taste of blood spreads through his mouth where his teeth must have cut against the inside of his cheek.

His glasses hit the floor somewhere nearby with a sharp crack.

Silence fills the doorway afterward.

Kaoru’s vision swims briefly before stabilizing enough to focus again.

His grandfather stands perfectly motionless in the entrance.

Tall.

Immaculate dark kimono layered beneath a tailored haori, every line of him composed with terrifying precision.

Not angry… that would almost be easier.

Cold disappointment settles across his features instead.

The kind that used to terrify Kaoru far more as a child than shouting ever could.

He straightens instinctively before he fully realizes he’s doing it.

Pain flashes sharply through his face, pulse hammering violently beneath his ribs. His hands curl into tight fists. He still lowers his gaze.

"You disgrace yourself more each time I look at you." The words land evenly. Controlled.

Each syllable precise enough to cut skin.

Kaoru can’t speak - not because he has nothing to say. Because suddenly he is seventeen again.

[beneaththeink]

It’s colder than usual at Crazy Rock tonight.

Wind moves through the unfinished concrete skeleton of the buildings, carrying voices, laughter, the sharp clatter of skateboard wheels against ramps somewhere nearby.

Kaoru pulls his haori tighter around himself.

"Cold, Princess?" someone chuckles somewhere beside him. His elbow lands reflexively and with pinpoint accuracy in Kojiro's solar plexus. Good.

Kojiro falls forward and tries to get a sentence out between coughing, gasping, and laughing. Multitasking seems to be too much for him; it takes him a while. Kaoru rolls his eyes and yanks him up by his hideous jacket. "Good grief, you'd think your exaggerated muscle mass would be able to cushion a little blow, gorilla."

Now the other man really laughs. God, he's so annoying today. Kaoru will miss this. 

"You good, Cherry?" Kojiro asks suddenly. 

"I'm fine." He arches an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

[beneaththeink]

Kaoru takes a spoonful of the tiramisu. Perfect. Sweet, rich, and creamy, with a hint of bitterness. He hums approvingly before polishing off the plate. “‘s good, right? You should come by next week. We’re testing a new menu.” Kojiro says. “Can't,” Kaoru licks the spoon clean. “Marriage preparations.” “Huh? What? Why? I mean. Whose?” He's seemingly struggling to form a sentence. Kaoru puts the spoon down, placing it neatly beside the empty plate. “Mine.”

[theartofsleek]

"One step at a time"

Source

[54riza910]

Kiss 🥰🥰🥰