Gackt jumped a bit to have his name spoken by the man, whose debt he was in but who he barely saw. He felt a little shiver to have Klaha's father confront him, and wondered at the coldness of the way he'd been spoken to. "Y-Yes, sir?"
"How old are you?" Klaha's father asked him, studying him, pausing in his own meal. "I don't remember."
Gackt swallowed and set down the bowl, feeling as though he shouldn't eat during a conversation. He could feel Klaha's worried eyes on him, but merely gazed at the flame of a candle. Up until now during dinner, Gackt had been exceedingly quiet and almost rebelliously silent, even, in the presence of Klaha's parents. Now, however, he HAD to respond. "Eighteen, sir."
"I see." Klaha's father paused.
Klaha's mother looked up from her food now, regarding Gackt with a carefully blank and even pleasant expression on her face. "Would you like some more tea?"
Gackt shook his head. "N-No, thank you."
Apparently Klaha's mother had been trying to divert her husband from asking too many questions, which he seemed to intend to do. However, the man got right back onto track once Gackt gave his soft response to Klaha's mother's question. Klaha's father swallowed another mouthful of food and then turned his eyes critically upon Gackt once again. "And may I ask why you dropped out?"
Gackt tensed. "I ... I was needed at home," he said very softly, for hopefully the last time.
"Your family was that destitute?"
Although Gackt seemed to take the words bitterly as though they were a poison, he nodded his head.
"That's a shame." But there was little pity in Klaha's father's voice.
The interrogation continued. The questions that Klaha's father asked Gackt were numerous and got more personal as time went on, as more food was consumed, until Klaha's mother ran out of reasons to interrupt and try to change the subject. Clearly she didn't like Gackt any more than her husband did, but she was more composed about hiding her disdain for him. Klaha looked from face to face at the table, concerned for Gackt and irritated with his father for being so intrusive. The more personal the questions got, the more closed-off and even angry Gackt seemed, and he became vulnerable and upset.
At last, Klaha's father asked almost scornfully of Gackt, "And what are your plans now?"
Gackt looked up at him, still disturbed by all the other questions. "For what?"
"Do you intend to get a job?" Klaha's father asked him, almost hinting at something. "Or was it your intention to remain here as you reach adulthood, staying locked in the room of a stranger's house, after running to my son for help?"
There was a sudden clacking sound, as Gackt put his chopsticks sharply down onto the table. He had apparently taken as much as he could, but since he was not brave enough to speak out angrily against anyone, due to his experience with Yoshiki, he said nothing. He merely stared down at his cup of tea, which had become cold, and he was shaking very slightly, not only with distress but also with anger, with agitation.
Sensing this, Klaha immediately put down his chopsticks also and frowned at his father, snapping, "Otousama, that's enough!"
Klaha's father gave his son a brief dangerous look and then returned to eating.
There was utter silence at the table for several long minutes. Klaha's father ate calmly, apparently satisfied that he had dominated the stranger in his house for the time being even if that stranger was a mere child, or close to one. Klaha's mother seemed exceedingly uncomfortable, so said nothing and picked at her food. Klaha was done eating, and was watching Gackt worriedly. Gackt had a bit of rice left in his bowl which he seemed to feel obligated to eat, so quietly, he finished it off.
When he was done---in fact, the very moment that he was done, as though he couldn't wait to leave and escape this situation---Gackt pushed his chair back and stood up. "Thank you for the dinner," he softly said to Klaha's parents, and bowed respectfully. "Please excuse me."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room. Klaha watched him go, sighing.
That evening, Klaha went upstairs to go and find Gackt. The other boy was in his room, sitting at his desk, with a book open in front of him that he apparently wasn't concentrating on. When Klaha entered, he looked up at him, trying to remain neutral and expressionless, but his eyes showed that he was frustrated and upset. Klaha merely heaved a sigh, and when Gackt didn't move, he came in and shut the door. Then Klaha walked over to where Gackt was sitting and sat also, near him.
"I'm sorry, Gaku-chan," Klaha immediately said. "It's my father's fault for being so intrusive."
Gackt sat there, gazing off to the side in aggravation, as angry tears began to prick his eyes. "What right does he think he has to treat me like that?"
Klaha sighed again and moved forward, so that he was sitting against Gackt on the chair, as he pulled Gackt into his arms. Obediently but without looking at him, Gackt climbed into his lap, whereupon Klaha slid his arms around Gackt's waist. "I know it's wrong," Klaha said, his voice betraying that he was also upset with his father. "He just doesn't understand people who are different from him, that's all." He kissed Gackt comfortingly now. "Don't let it get to you."
But Gackt was unresponsive to the kiss. His eyes were gazing absently at the floor, almost preoccupied with something, and he just sat there settled against Klaha's chest for a few moments without saying anything. Klaha noticed this, and furrowed his brows, his arms still around Gackt. "What is it?"
"When are you going to tell your parents about us?"
Klaha halted. "Nani?"
Their relationship had grown to the point where they could actually call it that, what it was, a relationship. In the beginning they had merely been friends, then had advanced to friends who clearly had an unspoken attraction between them. Then they had become friends who had a spoken attraction, but one which had to be avoided. And then they had shared an exchange and had confessed their feelings, and now, truly, they could be called lovers. The turn of winter into spring had dawned the flourishing of their friendship into love.
Gackt looked at him steadily. "When will you tell them, Klaha?" he asked, brushing some hair from Klaha's face gently.
Klaha couldn't help but become uncomfortable and a little uneasy. He had been hoping inside that he would never have to tell his parents about his and Gackt's feelings for each other, even though he knew that Gackt was right. "I don't know," he sighed.
"Why not? What's keeping you from it?"
"You've seen them, Gackt. You know what they're like."
"That's true," Gackt admitted, thinking about this. Consenting, he slid his arms around Klaha's neck now, and leaned against him more solidly, more trustingly. "They don't seem like they would ... like they would accept me." His eyes became slightly angry again. "And if they'll always think of me the way they seem to now, then I'm not sure that I WANT them to accept me."
"I know, I'm sorry," Klaha apologized again, honestly. "My father is ... he's ..."
"Daijoubu," Gackt interrupted now with a shake of his head. "But I do mean it, Klaha. I ... I want to know that they're aware of us and what's going on between us, if we're ever going to go any farther. I've never been in love before, or in this kind of situation," he said softly, touching Klaha's face again, "so I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I know that it feels wrong for them not to know."
"Gaku-chan ..."
"If I had parents, Klaha," Gackt told him now, even more quietly, "I'd ... I'd tell them."
Klaha gazed at him, and then immediately took Gackt in his arms again. "I know, Gaku-chan," he whispered. "Onegai, just ... give me some time. I'm afraid of what they'll think, what they'll do. I have to figure out a way to approach them about it."
"I understand." Gackt kissed him.
[That Sunday]
"Gaku-chan, I'm going for a walk. Do you want to come?"
It was early in the morning, just barely after sunrise. Fortunately, since it was the weekend, Klaha didn't have to worry about preparing for school. But now as he finished putting on his shirt, glancing at Gackt over his shoulder who was sitting on his bed, he didn't have to care about that. There was a dim light outside, with some orange and pink streaking the pale blue as the sun rose. Klaha enjoyed taking walks or jogging around his land this early.
Gackt yawned and shook his head. "No, I think I'll stay and take a bath."
"Okay." Klaha nodded. He came over and leaned down, kissing Gackt's cheek.
Gackt glanced up at him, worried. "Are your parents awake yet?"
Klaha shook his head as he headed for the door that would bring him into the hallway. "No, probably not. They don't usually get up quite this early if they don't have to. And if they do, they usually keep to themselves about it. It's rare that my parents even set foot on the second floor anyway, so you're fine."
"I'm not worried."
Klaha smiled at him, opening the door. "I'll be back in about an hour or two, ne?"
"Hai." Gackt smiled back.
"Ja." With that, Klaha exited into the hallway, softly closing the door behind him. His footsteps as he walked down the hall reached Gackt's ears through the wall. They sounded quiet and even, as though Klaha was being careful not to wake his parents or to catch their attention as he snuck out for a morning walk. Gackt closed his eyes and listened until he knew that Klaha had left the house and was wandering around outside somewhere, and then he got up, pushing the sheets back and getting out of bed.
"All right, time to take a bath."
He was about to head for Klaha's bathroom, and then paused. Slowly his fingers traveled to his undershirt, and he pulled it up slightly to glance down hesitantly at his stomach. He saw with only mild dry surprise that there was a kiss-mark on his ribs.
Gackt shook his head to himself with a smile. "Klaha-chan ..."
As he took off his clothes, the idea of Klaha's kiss-marks on his body lingered in his mind. He pulled off his undershirt and shorts and was about to walk right into Klaha's bathroom when he passed the large mirror upon Klaha's vanity, and paused. Hesitantly, Gackt reached for a thin bathrobe, for he never liked to stay naked for too long a time, especially if he had to look at himself. He pulled it on loosely and then walked over to the vanity.
He sat down on the chair and looked at himself in the mirror. The last time he had looked himself, REALLY looked at himself, had been a long time ago. Before he'd met Klaha. 'I look so different now,' he thought, amazed.
His dark brown hair still curved down around his face, framing his unusual, soft features, and his eyes and lips were still some of his most attractive features. Gackt had never considered himself attractive in the past, of course, but there had been customers who had attempted to flatter him with empty purring compliments about how beautiful they thought he was, and they always mentioned his lips, his eyes. Gackt reached up and touched them.
His basic features were the same, but then, there was just something different about him. An inner light, really, that shone through in his eyes, even though there was a look of sadness in them that would probably never fully go away. Gackt had come to recognize that. But knowing that Klaha loved him, and knowing that he loved Klaha, was enough to spark hope in his heart where there had been very little before, and Gackt could see that this changed him.
He sat there for a moment, and then began to slide the robe down around his shoulders, so that his midsection was covered but his torso was mostly revealed.
'How many of those marks did Klaha leave on me ...?'
Meanwhile, Klaha's father was coming up the stairs, whistling a tune under his breath. It wasn't exactly that he was in a good mood, but he intended to ask Klaha a question about an upcoming school event, and whether Klaha would attend. He knew his son was almost always up this early, so it wasn't a question of disturbing him or not. In the back of his mind, he wondered darkly at Klaha's odd behavior lately, and hoped that his discussion with him this morning might also help to clear some of that up.
He stopped in front of Klaha's door, and hesitated. Then, without bothering to knock, he opened the door.
"Klaha, do you---" He stopped.
Gackt had turned around slightly, and now stared at him with wide eyes. Klaha's father was alarmed to see the strange young man seated at Klaha's vanity in a bathrobe which was pulled down past his shoulders, formerly to gaze at his skin.
But what Gackt himself had been searching for a moment ago now came to Klaha's father's attention. There were at least three visible kiss marks on Gackt's body, which all immediately stood out to the man's disturbed eyes. The first was upon the curve of Gackt's neck, to the side of his throat, easily visible. The second was slightly lower, upon the skin between his collarbone and shoulder, which would be invisible if he was wearing a shirt with a high collar. The only other one that Klaha's father saw was located on Gackt's back, beneath his right shoulder blade: a dark pink mark bruising the otherwise flawless pale skin, vaguely reminiscent of the shape of lips.
Both parties were silent and still for a moment.
Gackt was so surprised that he didn't even think to pull the bathrobe back up, even though no exceedingly private portions of his body were visible. He just sat like that, slightly twisted around to gaze at Klaha's father in stunned silence.
Klaha's father, meanwhile, began to fill with disgust the moment he saw the kiss marks on Gackt's skin. He didn't care to wonder why Gackt was in Klaha's room, nor did he wonder where Klaha was. And he certainly didn't even think about the possibility that the kiss marks could be from Klaha's lips, which they were. That idea never even entered his mind. Of course his own son wouldn't have caused such a disgusting display of carnality on the peculiar boy's body. Therefore, since this wasn't a option, Klaha's father instead became seized by repulsion to think that Gackt, whoever he was, had engaged in salacious and immoral activities, no matter with who.
Without saying a word, Klaha's father turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Gackt in shock.
Klaha's father then went downstairs, and informed his wife of what he'd seen. She was shocked, but when she recovered she agreed with him: Gackt would have to go. They could not permit their son to associate with a person who had proven himself to be so utterly beneath them. Not only was Gackt homeless, uneducated, and unemployed, but he was clearly acting in a manner that did not befit his youth. He would be a terrible influence on Klaha, who they had such plans for.
Klaha returned from his walk about an hour and a half later.
By this time, it was a more reasonable period of the morning. Klaha's father and mother were both dressed, though they milled quietly about downstairs, their minds on what they had seen and/or resolved. Meanwhile, Gackt was upstairs, having taken his bath and dressed himself even though inside he was in knots about how Klaha's father had walked in on him and seen his body as he had.
Klaha shut the door behind him, and was just about to slip off his shoes and call, "Tadaima!" when his father came up to him.
"Klaha," he merely said, acknowledging him.
There was something in his tone that caused Klaha to become alert enough to neglect to take off his thin jacket or shoes yet. He looked up at his father, surprised. "Otousama," he just said in return, sensing that something was amiss. "Ohayo."
Klaha's father nodded in a curt reply.
A moment later, Klaha's mother appeared, over her husband's shoulder, and Klaha looked at her. "Ohayo, okaasama."
"Ohayo, Klaha-chan."
But there was clearly something unusual about this situation. Klaha had snuck out to take morning walks in the past, before Gackt had ever come into his life, and his parents had rarely come to acknowledge his return or to say good morning to him. It seemed as though, now, they wanted to say something to him or to tell him about something, but they didn't know how to begin.
Klaha looked from one to the other, about to open his mouth to speak, but then Gackt silently appeared.
The boy walked softly down the hallway from the far stairs, having come from Klaha's room. His hair was slightly damp from his bath, but he looked clean and fresh. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black hooded shirt with long sleeves, both of which he had borrowed from Klaha. His eyes were meekly on the floor, however, his cheeks slightly flushed as he walked towards the door.
"I'm going to take a walk through the gardens," he said, perhaps to Klaha but maybe to all three. "Is that all right?"
Klaha was the one who responded, blinking at him. Gackt rarely came downstairs, especially when he knew that Klaha's parents would be nearby. Gackt seemed now as though he wanted to escape from the situation as soon as possible, and going outside would be a perfect solution. Deciding that he'd ask him about it later, Klaha nodded to him, masking his affection. "Hai."
Gackt just nodded back and slipped on his shoes, walking out the door. He gave Klaha one last glance and then slid the door shut behind him, disappearing outside.
Klaha then turned back to his parents. "What's going on?"
Klaha's father spoke. "Come with us."
With that, he turned and began to walk down the hallway. Obediently, as though they had discussed this plan earlier, Klaha's mother followed at his side, giving Klaha a look over her shoulder that suggested that he should also follow. Although Klaha's confusion was growing by the minute, he still didn't bother to take off his shoes or jacket, and he followed his parents down the hall. They took him into the living room, at which point the two of them sat down on the couch.
Klaha seated himself in a chair just across a tea table from them, and then leaned his elbows on his knees, facing them with slightly furrowed brows. "Now tell me what's going on," he said, a bit more insistently, wondering what could possibly be on their minds.
Klaha's father's eyes flashed with unrest, at a memory. "Your mother and I have come to a decision, Klaha."
Klaha's mother glanced at him and then nodded nervously, to support him.
Puzzled, Klaha looked from one to the other. He was able to see some sort of hidden disdain in their eyes, not directed towards him but at something that was on both of their minds. He only nodded, but could tell that he would have something to say about whatever decision this was.
In measured words, his father said, "Gackt has to leave."
Klaha froze. "NANI?"
"Since neither of us cares to do it, we want you to tell him that it's time for him to go. He needs to find a job and a place to live as soon as possible, because he can't stay with us anymore," Klaha's father explained, in a charade of composure. "He's worn out his welcome."
"What are you talking about?" Klaha demanded. "How has he done that?"
Easily, his father responded, "He's shown himself to be an unsuitable influence in our home."
"I don't understand!"
His mother seemed worried and uncomfortable about this, but she folded her hands in her lap and attempted to explain, "I didn't see it myself, but your father went to find you this morning, and walked in on ... on Gackt ... instead." She pronounced his unfamiliar name almost with scorn. "And we can now tell that he's not a person of our caliber, Klaha. He's ... He possesses loose morals."
For a moment, a slice of fear cut into Klaha as though he was worried that his parents had discovered that Gackt used to be a prostitute. "Loose morals?"
"There were marks on his body which did nothing to hide that," his father said stiffly.
Marks, Klaha thought? Then ... "Oh," silently, in his mind. "From me, of course."
Klaha's mother sighed a little bit and shook her head, looking at Klaha as though asking him to listen. "And of course you understand, Klaha-chan," she said. "He's only your age, and even you are too young to engage in ... in such practices. It isn't right. It isn't as though he's our son, and we shouldn't have to worry about what he does, but you seem to spend time with him, and so ... we don't want you to become a more coarse or base person, by getting ideas from him." She seemed troubled, as though feeling sick suddenly. "God knows if he uses protection!"
Klaha suddenly realized what had happened. Probably when Gackt had been in the bath that morning, or just before or after it, Klaha's father had come looking for his son and had walked in on him. He would have been able to see the kiss marks from Klaha's lips on Gackt's body, then. And of course, Klaha's parents had jumped to the absurd conclusion that Gackt would have a negative effect on Klaha, by inspiring him somehow to go out and have sex.
Klaha almost snorted in his disbelief at the unfairness. His parents were blaming Gackt, when it had been Klaha who had caused those marks on Gackt's body! Klaha knew that there were similar marks on his own skin that were luckily hidden from his parents' eyes at this very moment.
"And for that, you're kicking him out?" he asked intensely.
His father nodded, his eyes challenging Klaha to argue. "Yes."
Klaha wanted to tell them everything right then, to show them what was what, even if it would shock them. He REALLY wanted to. But he wasn't quite angry enough to tell them the truth yet. Without giving any explanation for his beliefs, he said hotly, "You're not being fair!"
His father raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"It's not right to make him leave!"
Klaha's mother furrowed her brows. "Klaha-chan, why are you defending him?"
Without saying anything, Klaha slowly stood up and glared down at them. His defiance caused his father's eyebrows to lift even higher in surprise, and his mother to blink very quickly. Then both of them seemed to become angry with him, angry that he would dare oppose them when they had made this decision.
Klaha's father's fists tightened on his knees. "Klaha ..."
"Don't say another word about him," Klaha threatened.
Infuriated, his father almost stood up to face him, but Klaha's mother put a hand on her husband's arm to stop him. From where he was sitting, Klaha's father responded with restrained rage. "I don't understand why you're so resolute about keeping that depraved boy here, but I forbid it. Whether he's your friend or not, he's having a negative effect on you. He's not worthy of this house. He belongs back on the streets, and I'm going to see to it that he returns there. It'll be his choice whether he wants to move the muscle it takes to drag himself out of the gutter again."
These statements filled Klaha with cold shock and fury. For a moment he just stood there, staring down at his father, his mouth opening as though he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. His fingers slowly tightened into fists, and then his eyes narrowed, showing his ultimate anger and injury. "You'll see," he only bit out. "Wait here."
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room.
Klaha was lucky that he already had his jacket and shoes on, because it would have been hard for him to find the composure to put them on now. Instead, he stalked down the hallway and down through the shoe area, shoving the door open and running outside. The weather was pleasant this morning, and had gotten slightly warmer since Klaha had gone out walking earlier that day.
"Gackt!" he shouted. "Gackt!"
There was no response at first.
The terrain of Klaha's property was too expansive to conduct a complete search of, but Klaha remembered that Gackt said he would be in the gardens.
Klaha hurried to that area, seeing the neatly trimmed hedges, the rocks and sand, and the fine sculpture of the land that constituted architectural landscaping. His parents paid to have it done. It was a veritable maze, but Klaha plunged into it, searching around blindly, trying to quell his anger and hoping that he wouldn't frighten Gackt if he seemed too upset.
"Gackt! Gackt!"
"K-Klaha?"
Klaha suddenly whirled around and saw Gackt standing beneath the overhanging leaves of a fruit tree. Gackt was holding onto a branch idly, and was looking at Klaha almost timidly, surprised that Klaha had come out looking for him.
"There you are," Klaha only managed, hurrying over to him.
"What is it?" Gackt asked uncertainly.
"Come on."
Klaha reached out and grabbed Gackt's wrist, and started to pull the other boy along out of the garden maze with him. At first Gackt was too surprised to walk on his own, and Klaha actually had to pull him, but then Gackt hurried along after him curiously, hesitantly, trying to keep up with him. When they broke out of the gardens and were back on the grassy hill beneath the house, Gackt succeeded in catching Klaha's attention.
"Klaha, what's wrong? What's going on?" he demanded.
Klaha rushed up towards the house, still leading Gackt along. "Everything is going to be resolved right now," he said darkly over his shoulder.
"R-Right now? What do you mean?"
"I'm going to tell them everything." Ignoring Gackt's surprise as they approached the front door, Klaha cursed under his breath. "And damn them if they don't like it!" Now they came to a slow stop, just in front of the door, and Klaha glanced back at Gackt now, finally, a bit softer as they both caught their breaths. "I refuse to be ashamed of my feelings anymore."
Gackt just stared at him uncertainly. "Klaha ..."
All of a sudden, even though Gackt had wanted Klaha to talk to his parents about their relationship, he wasn't so certain. He'd meant for a reasonable discussion to occur, a calm discussion. He wasn't sure what would happen if Klaha tried to violently force his parents to accept his relationship with Gackt, and even though Gackt was still mostly unfamiliar with Klaha's parents, he knew that their reaction would not be pleasant.
Klaha looked at him for a long moment. "I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said. "I know I'm acting a little crazy." He grew angry again, glaring at the front door. "But I just can't stand them! I'm not going to let them say anything else about you!"
"Klaha, it wouldn't be the first time someone said something bad about me," Gackt interrupted him.
"I don't care. That doesn't mean that I'm going to let THEM do it." With that said, Klaha looked at Gackt one last time and kissed him softly on the lips. "Come on," he just said again, more quietly, and went into the house.
Gackt struggled to shut the door behind him, and he followed Klaha into the living room.
Klaha's parents were still waiting there. They seemed a bit more irate, but were controlling it even as Klaha walked back into the room leading Gackt by the wrist. Still seated on the couch, they both looked up at the arrival of the two boys, distrustfully. Klaha and Gackt remained standing, a bit across the room from them.
Klaha's father laid eyes on Gackt and became more upset. "What's the meaning of this, Klaha?" he demanded now. "Did you bring him in here to try to change our minds?"
Klaha released Gackt's wrist now and came in front of the other boy slightly, more towards his parents, as he shook his head angrily. He was already fed up with his mother and father. "Otousama, I want to tell you that you're wrong about Gackt. You're wrong about everything you said about him. I know this, for a fact, and I'm going to prove it to you."
He took an unsteady breath and glanced back at Gackt, then spoke again. "You have a lot of arguments for why he has to leave. You think you have the right to kick him out because he's sexually active, because he's supposedly corrupt, and so on and so on." He was too angry to speak sensibly.
"Klaha---" his father began warningly.
"I'm going to talk!" Klaha interrupted him loudly.
His father fell silent, but both of his parents gave him the evil eye.
Klaha reached backwards now and took hold of Gackt's wrist again. Even though Gackt gave him a confused look, a pleading look, Klaha pulled Gackt forward so that the other boy was standing next to him again. Klaha's anger abated for just a moment as he gave Gackt a slightly apologetic look in return. Then, without saying anything at first, Klaha reached up, his fingers brushing along the neck of Gackt's hooded shirt, and he pulled the neckline down slightly.
"K-Klaha!" his mother cried out, appalled.
"Just look," Klaha said, a bit more calm, but still upset.
Gackt swallowed hard and flinched, but knew not to move away. Klaha had revealed now, to his parents, the kiss mark that was between Gackt's shoulder and clavicle. Klaha's father stiffened to see it again, and his mother let out a gasp, for she had only heard about this from her husband and had not seen it herself.
"Here's what you said you saw, otousama."
Klaha's father did not respond.
With eyes that were becoming angry again, Klaha looked at his parents and explained, "Contrary to what you may have believed, I'm not that innocent myself." He paused for a moment, looking at the kiss mark on Gackt's body, and then snapped, "This mark on Gackt's neck is from ME. And the other ones that you probably saw, otousama, on his body, are from me also."
All of a sudden there was silence.
Klaha's father seemed shocked, as though he himself hadn't been able to expect this, and his mother was utterly still, too stunned to even breathe yet.
Klaha wasn't through yet. He released Gackt, and Gackt let out a little breath of relief, exchanging a look with Klaha as he moved out of the way. Klaha faced his parents and reached down, his hand now toying with the waistline of his own pants. He shifted it down, not too much, only an inch or so. It was just enough to reveal a small portion of the lean flesh around his slightly protruding hipbone, where a similar kiss mark was located on his own skin.
Klaha allowed his parents to see it, heard them both draw in their breaths in shock, and then he released his pants, covering himself up again with a faint blush that contradicted the anger in his voice. "And THAT is from Gackt," he said to them now, in turn.
Silence, still.
"Don't you get it?" he demanded, growing angrier by the minute.
Still, nothing.
Klaha let out a small growl of frustration. "He and I are lovers!" he burst out now, furious. "Haven't you been able to see it? Gackt's not immoral, and he's not cheap, because those marks came from ME! We've had sex with each other ... We're together!" Stating the obvious, trying to hammer this into his parents' heads, when they'd refused to let themselves realize it.
Klaha's mother seemed faint now. Her eyelashes fluttered dizzily, and she clutched at her throat. "It's wrong," she could only whisper. "It's deviant ... perverted ..."
After a moment, Klaha shook his head, exasperated. "There's nothing perverted about it," he said, at first to her, and then to his father also, his eyes flashing. "He and I are in love. I don't know what I would do without him, and he needs me. I KNOW he needs me." Klaha stopped now, for a moment, to look over his shoulder almost softly at Gackt, who was gazing back at him in the same manner. Klaha found the strength and continued, "All we want is to be together."
Neither parent said anything now.
Klaha despised their silence. He retorted, "You have no right---NO right---to judge him. What do you know about him?"
Gackt saw Klaha's profile as he yelled as his parents, and he was taken by surprise to even see tears in Klaha's eyes now where there had been none before. His immediate impulse was to hug Klaha, but of course he couldn't do that. Instead, unable to suppress his concern completely, Gackt put his hand on Klaha's arm and softly whispered, "Klaha, please."
Now and only now did Klaha's father truly react. He stood up, shaking with his anger, and in a soft but exceedingly dangerous and flat voice, he spoke.
"Take your hands off my son."
Gackt stared at him in shock now, as though Klaha's father was pointing a gun at him. Without saying a word, Gackt removed himself from Klaha and stepped backwards. He couldn't help but be intimidated by Klaha's father. The cold flames of unrestrained rage that were burning in the man's eyes were terrifying.
But Klaha resented it, all of it. Blinking the tears away, he glared at his father. "Don't tell him what to do! He's no lower than you are. You can't order him around. Don't you understand? I care about him!"
Klaha knew suddenly, even before he finished the last sentence, that words would accomplish nothing. He had to prove to his parents that he loved Gackt. He didn't care what they would think, because he knew his feelings could overcome anything. His eyes searched the floor for a moment, and then slowly, he looked at Gackt. Now, even as Gackt bit his lip and gazed back at him, Klaha moved over to him. He wrapped his arms around Gackt and kissed him: a deep, tender kiss.
There was a gasp of horror, a swooning sound, and a rustle of kimono fabric. Klaha's mother truly HAD fainted this time.
Klaha's father, on the other hand, exploded with his rage and disgust, barely noticing his wife. He came forward suddenly, his footsteps thundering in the room as they brought him closer to the two boys. His rough hands forced Klaha and Gackt apart, then closed on Klaha's arm and yanked his son backwards, ripping him away from Gackt. Before either of them could even blink, Klaha's father drew back his hand and hit Klaha sharply across the face.
Gackt gasped, shocked, staring at Klaha. "K-Klaha---"
Klaha rose a hand to his face. He was just as stunned, and tried to recover.
Meanwhile, Klaha's father turned his wrathful eyes upon Gackt. The man put a hand now on Gackt's shoulder, apparently revolted at the idea of touching him but having no choice in the matter. He wanted Gackt out of his house, and he wanted him out NOW.
Without any further hesitation, Klaha's father started to shove Gackt towards the direction of the hallway. Gackt staggered as he was pushed out of the room, but the moment he was in the hall, Klaha's father was directing him mercilessly towards the entrance way. Gackt bounced against the wall a few times, confused, maybe even frightened. Klaha's father shoved him all the way to the door, and then the man stopped.
He reached past Gackt and jerked the door open, then gave Gackt one last push to send him outside.
This one had been particularly violent. Gackt was already so off-balance that he was disoriented, and Klaha's father was a strong man. When he shoved Gackt this time, the boy stumbled outside several paces and at last his knees buckled. He sank down onto his behind, his knees bent out in front of him, his elbows keeping him slightly upright as he struggled to regain his awareness of what was going on. At last, shaking his head to clear his mind, he stared up at Klaha's father in utter astonishment.
"P-Please, sir ..."
From the door, refusing to leave it, Klaha's father continued to stare piercingly at him. "You are to walk off this property and never return. More than that, you are never to speak to my son again. Never lay another hand on him. If I ever find out that the two of you have come into contact, at ALL, then I will alert the proper authorities and send them after you."
Gackt drew in his breath, shocked.
"After all, it's easy to tell that you're a poor, homeless street urchin, with nothing to your name." The words stung like venom. "Given proper reason, the police would have no hesitation in arresting you."
"I ..."
"God knows," Klaha's father sneered now, "who ELSE you've touched in the past, or how MANY people on top of that. I wouldn't be surprised if I found out that you were nothing but a common whore."
Gackt couldn't respond, but he wouldn't have had time to in any case. Klaha had recovered from the blow and had abandoned his unconscious mother in the living room, hurrying blindly after his father and his best friend, in the direction that they had gone. Now, suddenly, Klaha could be seen rushing up to his father, apparently enraged with how Gackt had been treated and consumed with worry for him.
"Gackt!" he called, trying furiously to push past his father towards the other boy. His left cheek was reddening.
Klaha's father held his son back coldly, glaring down at him. Without saying a word more, and ignoring every protest, every call for Gackt that came out of Klaha's mouth, the man pushed his son back into the house and slammed the door shut, leaving Gackt alone on the grass.
NOTES~I would deeply appreciate your opinions, questions, compliments, predictions, or anything else you would want to send me. Please review.
Glossary
otousama: father
nani: what
daijoubu: it's all right
onegai: please
hai: yes
ja (ne): see you, bye
tadaima: I'm home
ohayo: good morning
okaasama: mother
To Be Continued
To the next part