Tsukimono (Obsession)

Author's Note:

I know this story can get confusing at times, so if you're at all lost, please ask me so I can help clarify! Anyway, this chapter turned out a bit longer than I expected... At first it's pretty boring, but there's some plot in here and a bit of.... Well, you'll just have to see. ;>

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Chapter 3:

Tsukamu looked to the girl who was sitting across from him at the table. She was flushed and talking excitedly. Of course, she should be excited. She just confessed her budding feelings toward her crush and he invited her to go on a date with him.

Tsukamu really hated how girls believed in dumb things like that. He took another sip of his cola and caught himself peering at her chest. She was wearing a low-cut shirt that revealed a little bit more cleavage than most were comfortable with. He disliked women's bodies almost as much as their craving for love and sap. They were weak, fragile, and their skin was so soft he could dig his nails into it in the same way wild animals would claw at each other. There wasn't an ounce of strength in those bodies women had.

As the time went by, Tsukamu kept on looking at his wristwatch, but his mind wasn't there at all. He hadn't been paying attention to the constant, annoying chatter his date was conjuring up, either. He kept on thinking about that blonde boy and how he had audaciously approached Tsukamu. Nobody had ever been that direct towards him, or indifferent to him either.

Oya had asked him personal questions, yes, but he didn't pry. When Tsukamu avoided telling him about his name, Oya didn't pry. He also didn't speak just to break a silence when it had formed. Tsukamu couldn't understand his intentions. Why did he approach him in the first place, yet not push for something in their conversation?

“Takahashi-kun, you're not like the other guys I've been with. You seem so much more understanding, not just wanting sex.”

It irked him, the way Oya wouldn't leave his thoughts. However, there was also something comforting about how the blonde interacted with him. He wanted more of it.

“Takahashi-kun, is something wrong?” He was snapped out of his thought process by his date. She was looking at him with a worried look in her eyes.

“No, I'm all right.” He had planned on punishing her, showing her just what she deserved, but he felt numb. All he could see in his head was Oya, interfering with his thoughts.

He just wasn't able to do that, tonight.

--

The next morning, Kiichirou woke a few minutes before his alarm clock. His dreams had been vivid the night before and stranger than most dreams he remembered. For once, though, they weren't solely focused on Takahashi. It seemed as if finally making social contact had calmed something that was raging inside of him.

Kiichirou wriggled his way out of his blankets and stood up, stretching his arms and shoulders. He looked down, sighing. 'I guess my hormones aren't done raging yet, though.' He mentally cursed his morning wood as he made his way to the bathroom to shower.

After promptly stripping and turning the shower on, Kii walked into the chill spray. Goosebumps formed all over his body and he hunched in the corner of the stall while waiting for the water to heat up. It may be uncomfortable, but at least it would get rid of a swelling he really didn't want to take care of at the moment.

After his daily shower routine, Kii got dressed in his school uniform and went downstairs. He found his mom eating breakfast.

“Kiichirou, come sit down for a second,” she beckoned to him. Finding a soda in the fridge, he sat down at the table with her.

“I received a call from your counselor. He says your grades have slowly been slipping these past few weeks. Do you have an explanation for me?” Kiichirou thought for a second about what she was talking about. Had it really been that long he had been occupying himself with thoughts about Takahashi? Of course, it had been harder for him to focus in school lately.

“You know, your father always advocated your interest in sports, but if your grades keep on slipping like this, I may have to convince him it's time for you to join a cram school. I know it's so late in your career and you've never attended one, but you've always been so on top of your grades.”

Cram school? Kii thought for a moment. Isn't cram school where Matsumoto met Takahashi? That meant Takahashi went to cram school after school every day and...

He suddenly had an idea.

“I know, mom. I really have been struggling in school lately. In fact, my friends all go to the same cram school. I hear it has really helpful programs, and it really isn't very expensive.” His mother looked at him with a thoughtful face. He knew she had always wanted him to attend cram school, but since his grades were never lacking and he was a good student, she never really let herself push against his love of sports for cramming.

“Kii, you know I'm always here to support you. If you think it will help you, let's get you enrolled.”

--

It had taken about a week for Kiichirou to get into the cram school. Turns out they were lacking a bit on enrollment that semester so they were glad to accept a new student, especially one who was such a good study, even though it was a few weeks into the term. With everything finalized, today would be his first day attending cram school. He had arranged to still visit with the officers of the sports club during lunch break every day since the fall heritage festival was fast approaching and he was still responsible for much of the organization.

Kiichirou had a hard time focusing on school work much of that day as he had become accustomed to, and by the end of the day, he was thinking about Takahashi more than studying at the cram school. He could imagine those icy eyes glaring at him as he made his way to the locker rooms.

Saitou was already there waiting for the rest of them. He was looking off into the distance as Kiichirou approached him.

“What are you staring at?” Kii asked him, setting his book bag on the ground so he could put his jacket on. Saitou looked over at him and shrugged.

“Oya, don't you have a club meeting to get to?” Kiichirou gave him an inquisitive look. “I mean, you've been acting so different lately. You're really quiet and don't really do much in school at all anymore.”

“Is it really that obvious?” Kiichirou asked. Saitou shook his head then turned to face the blonde.

“You almost seem like being at school, doing school work, socializing with friends... It almost seems like those things are beneath you now.”

Kiichirou smiled at Saitou. “I've been having a hard time lately, but I think I'm starting to gain sight of what's important now. I have special permission to attend cram school with you guys so I can get my grades back up.”

Saitou smiled, a relieved look on his face. “That's great! I was worried about you there for a bit!”

After Matsumoto and Satou met up with the two, they moved as a group toward the cram school. Kiichirou realized how exhausting obsessing about Takahashi had been. He had been ignoring his friends and school work and hadn't realized that people were worried about him. He was glad he hadn't sunk far enough to not be able to realize he still had to take care of things like his social and academic life.

After reaching the large building, Matsumoto turned to Kiichirou. “Ahh, this is your first time here. Just go talk to that lady so she can help get you in the right classes. Saitou-kun studies Literature and Math while Satou-chan is here just for music. I only have an extensive Japanese Language course, so I'd better get going.”

If Matsumoto only attended one thing during cram that meant the class he was in was the one Takahashi had. Kiichirou found an old lady sitting behind a desk in the corridor and approached her.

“Ahh, you must be the new student. I didn't recognize you.” She pushed thin, librarian-shaped glasses up her nose.

Kiichirou bowed slightly. “Yes, I'm Oya Kiichirou. I was told that I could improve my Japanese-language grades by attending your classes here. Is that correct?” The woman smiled at him.

“We only have one Japanese study course, but it is taught by a very well-renowned author. Would you like to attend that class?” Everybody was making it too easy on him. There might as well have been a paper titled “Instructions on How To Stalk Takahashi” handed to him when he walked in the door.

“Very well, then. Follow me.” The woman stood from her chair and began walking towards a dimly-lit hallway at a fast strut. Kiichirou followed her silently. The two passed several doors before she stopped abruptly before the very last one in the hallway.

“I hope you will be able to jump right in. Please let me know if you need any additional help.” With that, she turned on her heel and was back off through the hallway. Kiichirou opened the door and peered inside: there were about six students sitting around small tables and an old, sagely-looking man sitting at a corner desk with his nose in a book. He spied Matsumoto and Takahashi sitting at a table together, quietly discussing something.

Kiichirou walked boldly through the room after everybody turned to see who had disturbed their peace. The old man looked up, large white eyebrows nearly covering his small eyes. Kii bowed to him and introduced himself.

“Good afternoon, sir. I am Oya Kiichirou, a new student to this facility. I have been told you will be able to help me remediate my wavering grades.” Kiichirou spoke in an elaborate way, expressing his knowledge of the language.

The old man nodded his head toward where the other students were sitting. “The first half hour you get to work on your homework. The second is when I'll teach you what you crave. Try not to be loud.” And at that, he looked back down to his book.

'Perfect,' Kiichirou thought. 'I won't have to waste very much time feigning ignorance here.'

He approached the table where the two were sitting. “Matsumoto-kun, mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.” The glasses-clad boy smiled at him, offering him a seat.

“When I spoke with the receptionist, she was very helpful when I was trying to decide which classes would benefit me most.” He gave a fake smile. “Turns out the only class I was really having trouble with was Japanese. The rest of them are just a lack of my concentration.”

Takahashi glared at Kiichirou from across the table. “Your Japanese sounds fine to me, Oya. What exactly is giving you issues? Grammatical conjugations?”

Kiichirou reflected the look right back at the black-haired boy. “At least it's not honorifics, Takahashi-san.” He emphasized the '-san' in a mocking way.

Matsumoto just stared at the two, unsure at why they were acting so familiar with each other first and foremost, then wondering why the two were so icy with each other.

After the first half hour expired, the teacher went to the front of the room to teach from his unending pool of Japanese knowledge. Kiichirou really didn't need to learn much of the basics he was hearing, but for the sake of appearances, he took notes and pretended to study vigorously.

He noticed Takahashi wasn't doing the same. The younger boy appeared to be doodling on his papers instead of taking notes. 'He berates me for coming here when I didn't need to, yet all he does is goof off. What an idiot.'

As the lesson grew increasingly boring, Kiichirou became increasingly distracted. His eyes wandered over to Takahashi several times. He watched the way the boy's hands wrote, the way his shoulders fell when he sighed, but mostly the way his lips would move when he smirked, frowned, or was deep in concentration.

Kiichirou felt a weird twinge in his stomach as Takahashi caught him staring and glared at him. He quickly looked away and pretended to be deep in the lecture. He could feel those cold eyes burning into his back.

After the half hour was over, the teacher excused the students. The few others who were there hurried on to their next classes, but Matsumoto didn't stand up. “You two go on ahead. I have some questions I need to ask the teacher.” Takahashi nodded shortly and made his way out of the room. Kiichirou quickly gathered his books, put them in his bag, and slipped his jacket back on.

He rushed to the door and found himself dashing out of the classroom once he managed to open it. Takahashi was still within sight. “Wait!” He called.

The younger boy turned around as Kiichirou ran toward him. As he closed in on Takahashi, Kiichirou wondered why he was even in a hurry to catch up to him anyway. Takahashi gave him an inquisitive look when he didn't say anything immediately. Frankly, Kiichirou wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say.

“Do you have anymore classes to go to?” He still wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say.

Takahashi gave him a blank stare. “No, I was about to head to the train station.” He turned around and began walking to the entrance of the hallway. Most the other students who were going home had left the building already and the ones who were staying had made their way to their next classes.

Kiichirou followed right behind him. “If you're not needed anywhere, want to grab something to eat? I'm not used to cram school and it's made me kind of hungry.” Lame. Lame, but effective.

“Do you really have nothing better to do than bother people who are trying to mind their own business?” Takahashi asked, walking through the door and outside. Kiichirou followed behind him, the cool autumn breeze blowing through his thin jacket.

“You're the one who isn't refusing.” He was right and he knew it. After the arcade when Kiichirou offered to ride the train together, Takahashi hadn't refused. And now he wasn't refusing going to a cafe with him.

The two walked in silence to a nearby cafe. Once inside, the waitress led them to a booth near a window and away from the crowded entrance. They both ordered sodas and the waitress sped off to meet their order.

Kiichirou looked from Takahashi to the window to the menu, back to Takahashi. The younger boy was simply staring back at him and nothing more. This Takahashi was nothing like how he imagined the rapist Takahashi to act. He figured that Takahashi would be paying great attention to all the young girls around them, either overly creepy or overly friendly. This Takahashi, however, seemed to be just focused on... him.

“So why are you in cram school anyway?” Kiichirou asked, once again his eyes on the menu.

“My step-mother doesn't want me to be in the house alone when she is away, so I'm not allowed to come home until six o-clock.” Takahashi was still staring at him. Kiichirou looked at his watch. It read 4:21.

The waitress interrupted his thought process. “Here are your sodas. Can I get you anything to eat?” Takahashi quietly ordered a sandwich while Kiichirou decided on some ramen. Now Takahashi was looking out the window. Kiichirou couldn't help but stare at the boy's face; his freckles were invisible from this far away but he had a nice jawline and chin. It was those lips, however, that Kiichirou looked at the most.

“Aren't you going to ask what I do up until that time?” Takahashi was looking at him now. Broken out of his daze, Kiichirou had to wonder if he was drooling a little.

“No, I'm not. If you don't want to tell me I don't care.” But he did care. He wanted to know everything about Takahashi. He wanted to get inside his head, know what made his skin crawl, what things he was passionate about. So far, Takahashi had only really shown him one side of himself, the polite yet unsocial school boy, and only one emotion: sarcasm. He wanted to see if there was a person under that beautiful, uninviting shell.

Takahashi smirked at him again, that smirk that made his face so ugly. “Don't lie to me. I know you're interested. You haven't been able to focus on anything here besides me. It was the same as on the train station.” He put his hands on the top of the table and leaned forward. “What do you want? How come you're affecting me so much? Why won't you leave me alone?”

Kiichirou was taken aback. This whole time he was focusing so much on how Takahashi had infiltrated his mind that he didn't rationally look at how he must appear to the boy. He figured that what he was doing didn't seem too strange in comparison to what Takahashi did to him.

Takahashi spoke again, “I can't figure you out. You're following me around like a lost puppy or a heartsick girl.”

Kiichirou let an automatic smile appear on his face. “I just want to be friends. You're a friend of a friend, so it's only natural we should get along.”

“Bullshit!” The younger boy was starting to lose his cool. There was just no rationale to the blonde!

The smile melted off Kiichirou's face. He looked at Takahashi with a serious look on his face; he looked straight into those eyes that had burned into his soul. “Takahashi, are you the one who's been attacking and raping all those girls?”

Cold eyes became very wide and Takahashi jumped from the table and bolted from the small cafe table and out the door in a mere moment. Kiichirou was still staring at the place where he had just been seated.

The girl who had been waiting on them rushed back to the table, alarmed. “Is everything all right? What happened?”

Kiichirou smiled up at her. “Don't worry. I believe my friend just received an urgent message and had to leave.”

--

When Kiichirou got home that night, he felt exhausted, physically and mentally. Whenever he was in Takahashi's presence, his pulse was always elevated. He walked through the dark house up to his bedroom. When inside the room, he shut the door and leaned back against it.

After his latest encounter with Takahashi he was feeling extremely high-strung. He took his jacket off and hung it off his desk chair and moved into his bathroom. His body on autopilot, he allowed thoughts to freely course through his head.

Takahashi's reaction was a definite positive to Kiichirou's question. But if he were the rapist, why didn't he act more like one? He didn't show particular interest in women and all the girls who were attacked said their attacker seemed to have a personal vendetta against them.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Kiichirou went back into his bedroom and undressed down to his boxers, throwing his clothes into the laundry basket. His head was moving a million miles an hour as he laid down in his bed, moving his feet under the sheets.

Takahashi was mysterious, there was no doubt about it. At first glance he was just a normal kid, all though he did seem to have many complexities.

Kiichirou's hands were restless and started moving of what seemed their own will. His left hand moved up to his head and his fingers combed through his hair while his right hand moved up and down the middle of his chest. He tossed his head to one side.

Takahashi wasn't going to leave him alone so easily, was he? Those eyes that seemed to be able to see through his defenses, the ones that could read his mind, those pink lips that seemed to beckon him as they stood parted...

Kiichirou could feel the blood flow quickly through his body as his hands continued their dance. His right hand moved lower on his stomach until he reached the waist of his boxers.

He could see Takahashi in his mind, porcelain skin glowing on his young face and soft-looking shoulders.

He could feel his boxers beginning to tighten up. His left hand moved to his forehead. He began to pull at the cloth on his hip.

God, what was he doing? Just thinking about Takahashi was turning him on. He didn't even remember when he started thinking the shorter boy was even attractive, less intoxicating enough to make him do something like this. He rubbed his right hand over his lower stomach and even lower on to where his throbbing body was starting to ache.

He expertly moved his fingers through the small opening in his boxers and let out a small moan when they reached the tip of his member. Pushing the material down past the tip, he began massaging it slowly. His groin was pulsating even harder now at just even the light touch.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he touched himself more firmly. He could see Takahashi's lips, opening and closing. Were they saying something? He licked his own lips as he imagined what they felt like, what they tasted like. For a change of pace, he began to stroke up and down his length, feeling his hips automatically start leaning with his movements.

As his imagination produced more vivid scenes, he stroked his erection harder, his fingertips sending lightning up his spine and to the back of his neck. In the haze of lust only one thought passed through his head.

“Takahashi..... Takahashi...” He growled the voice under his breath as he quickened his pace and grip, feeling only pleasure flow throughout his body. He hated that name, Takahashi. It was an ugly, terrible name. It suited that smirk that was always on his face.

As he felt his body begin to lose control, he stroked himself a last few times then moved his hand over the tip as a large wave seemed to crash through his body. Kiichirou let out a lust-filled moan and his thighs and legs tensed up as he came, a small stream of cum hitting his clenched fingers and dribbling down his hand. His body was spinning as he panted, feeling his body shaking from the intense orgasm.

He didn't remember the last time he had come so quickly or so violently with such little stimulation. He sat upright and looked around for his box of tissues. His ears were ringing and he could feel the sweat start to evaporate off his numb body.

As he began to clean himself up, a sudden thought struck him. 'Takahashi... I wonder what... he tastes like.. in that way.' He looked down at his right hand, covered in his semen. He lifted his fingers up to his face while he debated whether or not to...

He moved his pointer finger to his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking the small bit of seed that was on it. He moved the substance around on his tongue, trying to decide what he thought.

'It's kind of bitter, but... It's not bad.' Kiichirou proceeded to wipe the rest of his hand clean and also wiped up his still-throbbing member. After throwing the tissue on the floor, he could feel the waves of exhaustion attack him. His rational thoughts slowly began to return.

'Lord, what have I done? I just fapped to mere thoughts of Takahashi... and they weren't even that erotic! There has to be a point-of-no-return with this mess. I just have to be sure not to get too far.'

He wondered as he fell into a restful slumber, what would he do when he reached that point?

--

Tsukamu hadn't been able to sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts haywire. That Oya had discovered him. He knew it was Tsukamu who was responsible for those girls.

Oya was going to rat him out! He knew there was something strange when the senior approached him out of nowhere and suddenly wanted everything to do with him. The blonde suspected him and wanted to turn him in! He was done for. His step-mother, that woman, she would tell the police 'I knew he was a rotten egg all along! I should have turned him in long ago!'

What would he do? What could he do?

He had to silence Oya. Had to offer him something that would make him look the other way or find a way to make him not talk.

What could he do? Damn that Oya!

----

Review Replies:

@lividfire: Thank you for the kind review! The first thing I want to ask is how do you see him having a crush on a girl and then switching to having a crush on a guy. I'm pretty sure I haven't written the characters that way. Maybe I mistyped something, though. Also, the thing about his mother will definitely be explained in a later chapter because it is a large part of the story. Thank you for the lengthy review and your kind words!

@l.i.n.d.s.e.y: I'm excited to see what happens next, too! Err, that was a joke. But thanks for saying you've become a loyal reader! I'll have to loyally update this, then!

@ASOTA: Haha, I love how you get to the point. All right, your wish is my command!