#admin fits

He came into the class with an ashy expression that was so grey that you had to look away when his eyes came in contact with yours. You knew he was different, everybody knew. He had the face so familiar yet had facial features so distinctively disparate than those that you surrounded yourself with. He was beautiful.

The table beside yours was empty and it was the very same table that the teacher decided to have Takashi sit beside you. He would nod his head, void of emotion as if the very universe that had painstakingly create such a fascinating living being, had robbed him of the one thing that had made him human. Safe to say, you left your relationship just like that. As desk mates.

The school wasn’t technically a school. It somehow became a euphemism, a label so that would satiate the subconscious of the older generations in the country. Instead of being an institution where you should be left in awe with the advancement of science or be brimming with conflicting emotions that would have your heart crushed but racing from a piece of literature, the only thing that you were taught was on to survive.

Most mornings started with the reiteration of running from anything and everything that screamed danger, run or you’d die. Spines too stiff, blonde hair that was a few shades darker than the dirtied ground you walked on, artillery that was pitch black to be stained with carmine that would run down like silk. Warning signs that would get you to run to the nearest shelter, huddled to the very corner with hopes that the man would not hear your heart beating too loud that it reverberated through the still air. Your scraped knees were evidence of your fear, every time you would trip and fall because your shaky legs gave way with the deafening sound of the airplanes gliding through the air. Airplanes that shook your heart, creating an abyss for it to drop into whenever you saw red and white stripes, where a single red dot should be.

In the afternoons, you and your peers would go to the field and masked the amateur fighting techniques were taught by your teacher. The girls technically didn’t have to partake in the class seeing as how you were not going to be drafted for the military but the school would rather grace you with a fighting chance than to leave you to blindly run into to the sharp blade wielded by a man driven by apathy.

It was one of those afternoons that you had your very first interaction with the boy. The small group of girls in your class had just finished with your physical activity and you were on your way to the toilet when you caught his familiar silhouette. Your feet automatically shifted back and you figured that you would just leave him alone. However, when you witnessed his back flinching twice, you meekly walked towards him with caution. Over his shoulder, you watched his fingers fiddled with the red lines that drew blood all over his legs. Dirt smeared on his skin like creepy crawlies drawn towards his wound and bells were ringing in your head. The image of your mother rushing you to place your wound under running water was so innate in you that you didn’t register that you were gently pulling him up. It was only when you were back on the field with your water bottle in your other hand that made you realised that you were actually touching a boy. Not only that, he was a boy that probably disliked being touched if the hot stare on your back was anything to go by. And so, you immediately let go of his hand.

You turned to him and put up the water bottle as if it was a white flag, to show that you meant no harm. Besides, what could you possibly do? The skills taught to the girls were nowhere as complex as the ones the boys had to learn. You harming the said boy was out of the question.

“Hi. Hello. I umm, saw that you had that wound so I thought that maybe I could clean it.” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt and your heart was pounding against the web of your ribcages. You didn’t realise that you were holding your breath until you felt fresh air floated into your system when Takashi nodded his head slightly.

So you had him sit on a curb, although this time, you made sure that your skin didn’t nuzzle his. You gestured for him to prop up his scraped knees, issued out a small apology before proceeding to push the skin at the edge and pour your bottle contents onto his wounds. Takashi’s hisses brought about the life drawn to the calf in a form of scarlet spidery webs. You poured the entire contents and you were somewhat satisfied when the wounds were clean.

You then capped your bottle and looked at him who was blinking at his wounds, dazed. “You’d have to go to the nursing room to have them treated.”

Your words popped his bubbled reverie and he requested for your company to the room after he registered your words.

“I don’t know where it is,” he added when he sensed your hesitation. You paused still, wondering if your friends would mind if you were going to be late but you figured it would be better to guide the new boy before he got lost.

And so you spent the next class helping him to the nursing room where he got himself treated and even accompanying him as he rested.

Takashi wasn’t built to be as intimidating as the country wanted its boys to be but puberty did mould him into somebody such that your eyes refused to leave his form, your heart was adamant to quiver for. His shoulders became broader, he shot way passed you and his face cultivated its own space in a dark alcove of your chest.

Takashi stopped being beautiful. He became ethereal.

You fell in love.

After that small incident to the nursing room, you found yourself by his side. At first, you figured that your natural gravitation towards the boy was courteous at most. You were the only person who had taken the initiative to pass the wall that he had built, too young. You were the first person to move the black veil that enveloped his small, younger frame. Thus, you were the only one he knew and you had this sense of obligation to just be there.

Years after, however, you realised that Takashi wasn’t just a friend to you. You viewed him more than how just a friend would. You often smiled bitterly at the thought of the both of you being an actual couple. You had too many things to think about: the household that was struggling to balance on its tip with an absent father that left for the war and a mother that was working odd jobs to get food on the table. You were too busy taking care of your younger siblings, feeding them sweet potatoes that you farmed at your measly garden at the back of your house.

The only time that you got to spend time with Takashi was strictly at school. Except for that one time where you decided to go to his house. School was sporadic because of the war but every time there was, the table beside yours were empty. You figured that your friend was sick seeing as how it was the third time then and your heart thrummed painfully in the empty void of your chest with worry.

You knew Takashi lived a few blocks away and it took a while for you to navigate down the streets that were so unfamiliar. But your anxiety simmered down when you found a house that fit his description. He didn’t say much but the fact that his last name was on the front gate probably helped tremendously. (It helped a lot.)

Your insides coiled tightly with every second that passed after you knocked on the door. You almost turned around to walk away but the door to his house opened. The person that greeted you was not your friend but the resemblance pegged her as a family member. It was the very first time in your five years of friendship that you had the opportunity to meet his family member. In any other circumstances, you would have immediately warmed towards the important people of your favourite person.

But you found your smile froze in place, tight and thin as it wobbled slightly at the corners. The woman that held onto the door was staring at you, blank at first before there was a sudden fire that lighted deep in her eyes. She took steps towards you, aggressive and forceful that you stumbled back. You knew even when you were just fifteen, that you were unwelcomed. You voice was caged deep within your trachea and it refused to emerge even when your insides were trying to push it out.

“What is it? What do you people want? Are you going to mock me too? Your people are the reason why I’m here. Your people took everything away from me. Everything! You took everything!” Her words came in shouts and like her hands that grasped onto your bony shoulders, they shook your entire body. Her tears of anguish brought about your own and you didn’t even know why you were even tearing up. Every bit of oxygen left your lungs and they stuttered from the shock. Your eyes stayed on hers that were growing even more frenzied and you yourself was breaking down along with her because you didn’t know what she wanted nor did you have an answer to her questions.

The fear that crawled along your veins managed to grapple your insides finally let go when the lady stepped back and it took you awhile to realise that there was a hand placed on her shoulder. When you trailed it back to the owner, you saw the face that your heart ached for, but not really.

Takashi wasn’t looking at you then but his solemn stare was directed at the lady. “Mother, please go back in the house. Kikyo is crying out for you.”

You watched as his mother regain her senses before she nodded, walking back into the house with her shoulders hunched. It was as if the world had dumped every of its burden on a frail woman and your heart clenched because you knew, she was struggling to keep herself up.

“What are you doing here?” His voice and soft touch brought your attention to Takashi. You intertwined your fingers and just his touch managed to assuage your jittery nerves.

“I wanted to see you. You haven’t been coming to school so I thought there must’ve been something wrong.” To make sure, you lifted your other hand and place it on his forehead. He wasn’t burning up, which was a good sign but your worry wouldn’t dispel despite your confirmation.

“I’m fine.” When he saw you frowning even further, he let out a chuckle and lightly squeezed your hand. “Really, I’m okay.”

“Okay, that’s good.” You let the seconds passed by without many thoughts except for the relieve that flooded your system.

“Was that your mothe-”

“How’s Hinata and Natsu?” You blinked at the obvious change in subject but you let it go. Instead, you smiled and told him of that time when Natsu had bumped her head when she and her brother was playing catch.

Your heart sighed when you recognise that look that he gave you, one that was so endearing with eyes so soft as he stared at your face like it held the greatest view in nature that he would ever see. Which of course, was never going to be the case.

The both of you had been talking for just a few minutes when an older lady passed by. You wouldn’t have noticed her presence if not for the fact that she had spoken out.

“Oh, you’re still here? Go back to where you came from. We don’t want your disgusting disease to potentially corrupt this village.” You blinked and was immediately filled with that quiet rage when you registered her words. You didn’t fully understand what she meant but you did know that she was insulting your important person and that anger bubbled into words that sat on the very tip of your tongue.

But the sudden tight grip of your hand froze your entire entity and the only thing that took over your thoughts was that soft smile of your friend, a smile that was so painful and sombre. Your insides were crushed.

“It’s okay, just let it go.” Your lips parted to let out a rebuttal but Takashi repeated those words when it was supposed to be you who was the one who was supposed to comfort him. Because you saw the familiar pain that haunted him in the very first few days that you came to know him, and at that very moment, even if you were his friend, you didn’t have any power to do anything. You couldn’t take that pain away and you hated your incompetency.

You felt his soft hand caress the top of your head, oh so gently for a few moments before he aggressively ruffled your head and you immediately slapped his hand away. He gave you a grin, knowing how it peeved you when your hair wasn’t in place. He also knew he was the only one who had the privilege of doing it without any real consequences and he made sure to fully utilised it. It didn’t matter, you liked Takashi too much.

“You should go home. I’m totally fine now.” Years from now, you realised how the relief of seeing your friend safe and sound had totally blinded you, Takashi wasn’t lying but he wasn’t telling the truth either.

“Will I see you in school?” There was a pause and your anxiety bubbled just for a bit but the appearance of his comforting smile managed to mitigate them. You would see him again. You would see him again in this chaotic world.

“Yeah.”

You did see the boy for a few times before he disappeared altogether. The teacher came with an announcement that Takashi and a few others had gone to cross the border. The information went in your head but never sinking in.

Takashi was never truly Japanese, you realised. He was Korean, a person of a different nationality. And it shook you because something as vital as leaving for another country, or something as minute such as not being from where you were, were totally dismissed in your friendship you shared. You then wondered what else did you not know. You wondered about the details that ‘Takashi’ had left out, of the details that you failed to realise.

You wondered if the friendship with ‘Takashi’ was ever real from the very beginning.

You didn’t even know his real name.

And so you found yourself staring at the table beside yours that was forever empty, seeing as how the class never changed its seating format. No matter how much your heart yearned for another ruffling of your hair, ‘Takashi’ was just a mirage that would forever elude your grasp.

And so you bore this sense of loneliness alone, buried under the fear of the planes that flew too close, the dread of having your family torn apart once again. It was enveloped in the sense of worry as you watched your mother’s legs buckled a little more, every day. It wrapped itself with the self-assurance that ‘Takashi’ would survive through the war, even though there were many times that you knew that it was a mere delusion. The image of his body, stiff and cold, caused you to lose your breath too many times that you pushed it as far as your mind would carry.

Amidst everything, you then had forgotten ‘Takashi’ whom you dubbed as your mysterious first love. Twenty years passed, in a relatively new country and a new family, the sun was shining down on you rather unforgivingly. Twenty years had passed and you still naturally turned to the voice that eluded you for two decades, a voice that shook you to the bones with so much longing. You laughed even when the tears were shamelessly flowing down your cheeks. You waited for this day for far too long, you hardly remember.

You introduced yourself, albeit hesitantly, because he was a newcomer to the group of friends you’ve dedicated most, if not all, of your summer breaks with. Having moved house to another state caused you a slight strain on your friendships but you managed. You didn’t know how to feel about a boy whom you never met being included because, at the end of the day, it was either you or him being left out of the conversations. You being the past and him being the present.

But as time passed by, it became obvious as to why the boys were so attached to him. Jimin would be the one to bring you a cold can of soda whenever it was too hot. He would give you his time for you to rant your heart out, pouring out whatever that had been weighing on your heart to carve itself on the sand.

He might not be there during the past but he found himself a permanent space in your life just as how the waves curved around your body with such familiarity. He was the ocean in your heart, his voice as the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. Jimin was the sun you’ve watched set when you needed something to placate the agitated nerves in your entity. Jimin was your haven.

You didn’t know where it came from but it was Taehyung who called you out on it. Taehyung saw how your eyes lingered on Jimin, trying to memorise the curves of his lips and the joy in his smiles. He watched how your body just gravitated towards his, trying to find something solid to hold on as the both of you laughed and let your body let loose. Taehyung observed how scarlet you would get when Jimin went into your personal space to whisper an inside joke.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your mind had a brain freeze and you weren’t sure if it was the slurpie that you were drinking. You choked on strawberry flavoured ice and Taehyung merely laughed at your misery. When you regained your composure, you glared at your best friend and he only replied with the wiggling of his eyebrows. Taehyung was then met with shaved ice crawling down his back where you dumped your remaining drink.

However, his comment was the push that made you answer the nights that you spent talking to Jimin on the phone despite being states away. It made you answer the longing to go back to where the boys were as soon as you stepped in your house where your immediate family lived.

It made you answer why you wanted Jimin to be the first face you see, even when Namjoon shared most of your life looking out for you. It made you answer why you let Jimin hold your hands even if Taehyung was the clingy one in the group. It forced you to answer why you held Jimin’s praise on your dance moves closer to your heart even when Hoseok was the best out of everybody there. It made you answer why you preferred to share the other part of earpiece when Yoongi was there to appreciate the music with you. Or why your heart was full when you watched Jimin took a bite of the cupcake you baked when Jin was just a foot away, doing the same thing. Or the fact that Jimin was the first one you go to open a jar of cookies when Jungkook was in the same vicinity as you two were.

It made you answer a lot of things.

When you went back to see the boys again, everybody was there to greet you. Taehyung with his bone crushing hug. Hoseok with his zealous screaming of your name. Namjoon with the ruffling of your hair. Jin with the squeezing of your cheek. Yoongi with a nod as he took one of your luggage. Jungkook with his cocky smile.

And lastly, Jimin who opened your arms for you to walk in casually and envelope him in a hug of your own. It was too long for a friendly hug and too ambiguous to be anything more.

“Hey, I missed you.” You felt his smile against your hair as you breathed in the scent that easily replaced the salty air that you found yourself return to when there was something bothering you.

Jimin easily became your solace.

When you thought everything was the same, you had to retract that statement. You realised how the rest of the boys left the seat next to you empty so that Jimin would fill the gap. You saw how Jungkook had that mischievous twinkle in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You noticed how Yoongi always made Jimin accompany you home whenever the stars would twinkle in the sky. Of course with Taehyung’s constant jokes about how the both of you would sit under a tree and “K-I-S-S-I-N-G”, the both of you managed to tune it out but really, who are you joking?

So when the skies were blushing and when the sea was singing, you asked Jimin what the two of you were. You weren’t sure what to expect and almost threw your question down to the deep abyss when there was no answer. Perhaps the waves were too loud and you would have to keep that question tucked into the corner of your heart for the day when you would muster enough courage to pluck it out.

But you didn’t have to because Jimin turned to look at you. “Aren’t we dating?”

You blinked. “We are? We haven’t established anything.”

It was his turn to cock his head. “But we like each other, don’t we?”

At that, you sat a little straighter and your mind got a little slower. Jimin who was attuned to your every move, panicked because you were looking at him as if you were going to run away to never see him again. Jimin’s hand hovered on yours, hesitant when you made no move to calm his nerves even with a small smile. When you opened your mouth to speak, Jimin was the one who beat you to it.

“I’m sorry. Oh god, I fucked up. This was Tae’s doing, he told me you liked me and I just assumed that that must be it because –”

“So you like me?” He was taken aback on your question and merely sputtered out an “Of course I do”, albeit a little soft but even with the waves crashing, you were drawn to his words like how the ocean craved for the shore every time it pulled back. You were just that. You craved for Jimin.

“Well, we can now either reward Taehyung for leaking out that secret or kill him for, well, leaking out that secret.” You were furrowing your eyebrows but Jimin’s growing smile was lifting the corners of your lips without a hitch. When Jimin pulled you towards him where your lips finally meet with soft giggles and serene sighs, you knew you were in a state where nothing else would matter.