Chapter Text
Anyone having hair that’s really, really long is weird. A man having floor-length hair is disgusting.
That’s the first thing Ikeda notices about Hirose Shingo. Immediately, his face takes on a scowl. Hirose must notice, because his tight, polite smile wavers.
Tei has warned Hirose about his housemate. He keeps Ikeda’s business private, but Hirose does know that ultimately, for whatever reason, Ikeda Daiki will always be his number one priority. He really can’t figure out why, because from what he’s heard, this kid kind of seems like a bit of a nuisance.
“This is Hirose. We’ve been, uh, going out—you know that,” Tei introduces them, gesturing to the tall freak with a hand on his shoulder.
Going out. Ikeda really hates that. He hates seeing Tei touch anyone too.
Ikeda opts not to introduce himself. “Why is he here?”
Tei blinks. “Well, I mean, I just wanted to introduce you, I-I guess.”
He’s ruining everything by being here; feet dirtying the ground, presence souring the air. Does he even know that? Tei knows that Ikeda doesn’t like anyone in his space, getting street dog germs all over his (Tei’s) things. At least he hasn’t attempted to shake Ikeda’s hand or something. He seems to know to keep his distance.
“…Okay.” Ikeda crosses his arms.
Hirose’s eyes keep falling onto the scar on Ikeda’s cheek. He feels an odd self consciousness, wanting to cover it up with his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ikeda,” Hirose offers. “I’ve heard a bit about you.”
Ikeda realizes he doesn’t have to be here, and scampers off to his room without another word.
Hirose thinks he’s learned why Ikeda is so important to Tei. As it turns out, he’s just a kid who apparently doesn’t have anyone else to take care of him, and perhaps a bit socially stunted. It’s sort of noble of Tei.
But how did Tei just get a kid? Is that legal? Not that he should be asking, but is that fine?
“Does he tend to warm up to people?” Hirose asks in a whisper once Ikeda is gone.
Tei sighs. “If he does, you won’t know it.”
Hirose clicks his tongue. “I see.”
“He has, uh, PTSD,” Tei blurts, already feeling the need to compensate by oversharing—a habit Ikeda despises for good reason, but he has an issue with not being able to stop once he’s started. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you, but, yeah. He was involved in—… Just some stuff. That’s why he lives with me.”
The vagueness intrigues Hirose (might that have something to do with the scar?), but he understands. “Ah. Well, it’s very noble of you to take in a kid who doesn’t have anyone else. I didn’t take you for the parenting type.” It’s very sweet, though, Hirose thinks.
“…Huh?” Tei looks genuinely confused. “Wait… do you think Ikeda’s a kid?”
“What? How old is he?”
“Nineteen. He’s like, two days younger than me.” Tei cocks his head to the side. “…How old did you think he was?”
“…I dunno, thirteen? Fourteen?”
“You thought he was Chieka’s age?” Tei bursts out in snickers. “He’s older than you!”
Hirose’s eyebrows raise amusedly. “…Wow.”
“Welp, that was kind of a fail, I guess.” Tei huffs. “Thanks for, y’know, trying. He’s picky about people. We should probably head over to the theater—Just let me grab my shoes. You got over here earlier than I was expecting.”
“Right,” Hirose says.
・・・
“I don’t like Hirose,” Ikeda announces that evening at dinnertime, poking at his rice.
Tei deflates like a balloon, even though he expected no less. “I… thought you might not. Why, though?”
“Because he’s gross.”
“Ikeda, please,” Tei begs. “What has he even done to slight you?”
“He’s just creepy,” Ikeda reiterates. “His hair is disgusting and he’s too tall.”
“I like his hair,” Tei mumbles, frowning.
Ikeda pokes around at his food some more, grumbling. “I just don’t want you to be spending a bunch of time with him,” he says.
Tei’s face softens in realization. “Ikeda, he’s not going to be taking up all of my time, I promise. You’re still my priority.”
“He already does,” Ikeda mumbles, certain he must sound like a little kid. “You’re always going places with him.”
Tei groans with the exhaustion of a single mother. “Ikeda, I go out with him once a week at most. I need time for myself; he’s a super nice, relaxing guy.”
“…You don’t like me.” Ikeda tries to hide the tremble of his lip.
Tei’s hands flail animatedly. “What?! Nononono— where’d that even come from?! I do! I do, I promise! Y-you’re the most important thing in the world to me, I just—”
“Do I stress you out? Do you need to get away from me? Like—like I’m just your responsibility?”
“Ikeda, you…” Tei inhales through his teeth sharply. “You’re not just my responsibility.”
The unanswered questions linger in the air.
Ikeda isn’t easy to love; he knows that. There are days where he’s small and sensitive and stupid and won’t stop crying for more than a few hours no matter what Tei does to attempt to soothe him with snacks and hugs and cartoons and naps.
There are days—sometimes short periods—where Ikeda gets triggered by something and isn’t small, but regressed in recovery instead; trapped in his abuser’s conditioning and awful flashbacks, refusing to eat or sleep or drink anything and snapping at any attempt of help.
Ikeda can see the clear exasperation in Tei’s face, even when he’s like that. And then he cries more, and then comes the I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—from both of them. Ikeda, for being so messed up in the head and dependent and unable to function like an adult; and Tei, for only being able to help so much, and for getting overwhelmed and breaking down himself.
Tei has to be giving Ikeda his complete, undivided attention and gentle, balanced affection for days at a time, praying he’ll return to the normal Ikeda equilibrium or he may literally, literally die. Of course that’s stressful.
Ikeda can’t argue with him. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “…I just don’t like being alone. I’m sorry.”
They’ve both lost their appetite. The food is going cool.
Tei sighs for the umpteenth time. “I-I know, Daiki. It’s not your fault. Um… wh-what if Ruka came around when I’m not here? Yaitabashi, maybe?”
Ikeda pouts, shaking his head. “No.” He knows he’s being stubborn, so stubborn, and so spoiled, but he can’t help himself. Tei is the one who’s been feeding him endless validation for the past two years. Blame him.
“…I could ask Hirose if you could tag along?” Tei suggests. “You’d have to be spending time with him, but you’d be with me, too. Plus, I want you to be getting out more. I think it’ll do you some good.”
Ikeda stills. “Hrmmm,” is all he offers.
“I’ll ask him about it. I… I really should be prioritizing you over everything else. I don’t need to be going on dates. It’s so selfish of me to leave you all by yourself for something that stupid; I’m sorry. I messed up.”
Ikeda tenses. That doesn’t sound right. Tei is the nicest person ever. At this point, he knows that Ikeda is mean and spoiled and awful, and he continues to show care for him. He’s also never breathed a sigh of relief in his life, always working, always slaving away at something or other. Ikeda thinks he does deserve respite from that, but the affection is addictive.
“It’s okay,” he settles on. “I’ll go if Hirose says I can.”
Tei smiles stiffly. “Great.”
“…Where do you even go? On a date.”
“Well— we usually just hang out at his dorm, actually. Sometimes we just sit in his room and he’ll study while I work. I’ve been to his house, too, though. Ooh, his sister’s nice! She’s like, fourteen, I think.”
“…You hang out in his room?” Ikeda scowls. “Tei. Ew.”
Tei makes a similar expression. “It’s not like that.”
・・・
Tei asks Hirose about it late that night. The text he sends would be about ten percent as long if he left out the several apologies. Hirose sees it in only the morning, does a lot of skimming over the aforementioned apologies, and gathers that Tei doesn’t want his roommate-friend-thing to be alone and that he’s asking if he can accompany them the next time they see each other.
Ikeda is perplexing. Hirose almost wanted to ask Tei if he was sure that Ikeda wasn’t a child when they went out to see that movie after meeting him for the first time. He was short and skinny and had quite the case of baby face—as in he truly, sincerely looks like a preteen if we’re being generous.
That aside, Tei does seem to take on a parent role. Tei has talked about Ikeda a few times, trying to air out his personal business as little as possible. From what Hirose knows, Tei cooks every meal, is the only one paying rent, and constantly thinks aloud about how he’s worried about Ikeda being by himself.
Tei calls Ikeda, sometimes, when they’re out, reminding him to eat and drink water and asking him if he’s alright, if he should come home. It’s more care than a normal roommate would foster. Hirose’s dorm mate talks to him about once every two days, to say ‘good morning’ if they happen to run into each other.
Hirose has realized that Ikeda very well may be a package deal alongside Tei. That’s fine. He’s very interested in Tei. This would be his second relationship, after his first back in high school. Tei isn’t anything like that. He’s gentle, if not overly cautious.
That is if this continues into something serious. They aren’t quite boyfriends, but something unmistakably romantic has lingered between them within the last month or so they’ve been talking. Hirose ultimately thinks Tei is worth pursuing.
They agree to have a picnic at the local park tomorrow. Until then, Hirose has endless schoolwork and studying to keep caught up on, even during the weekend.