Flood into My Heart

Summary: Yamato is a transfer student in Shimane and Jou Kido is his teacher. Trapped due to flash flooding, the two are forced together as they wait it out. Joumato, Yaoi

Warnings: Implied abuse (lighter than my usual work), hard Yaoi

Notes: I haven't slept in 2 days and I needed some fluff outside the shit I normally write. Enjoy.

Chapter One

Yamato looked down from the ledge. He contemplated jumping but there was too much wrong with that thought. First, he would only be doing it for the reaction and you can't witness it if you're dead. Second, there was a huge fence in the way. He placed his fingers through the thin, rusted metal. In a way it reminded him of his bass back home with his grandmother.

What a shitty town Shimane was.

But with both parents disowning him, this was the only place that wanted him. Rather, his grandmother Kinu would never give up on him. Maybe his father hadn't completely, but he certainly had enough to warrant moving him miles away from his friends/band and family.

He sighed.

"What are you doing up here?"

Yamato continued to pout as he turned around. A young man about ten years his senior stood in the

doorway leading back inside the school.

"Do you not understand Japanese that well?" he asked.

Yamato wondered for a moment then realized: right, this is a country school. Not many blond hair, blue eyed gaijin made their way to the sticks. That brought back memories... He hadn't realized it right away since he hadn't been teased since he was a child. Nowadays, people ridiculed him for other things...

"I was raised Japanese," Yamato snorted. "I'm minding my own business. You?"

"W-Well, I'm new here and I saw you when I arrived late."

"Oh, you're that new teacher."

"Kido, Jou."

"I'm supposed to be in your homeroom."

"I see. Well, maybe you can show me the way, then."

"Whatever," Yamato replied and unslumped from the fence. As he showed Jou to 2-B, Yamato wondered how he got lost. The school was only two, tiny floors. Everything was alphabetical. He looked fairly smart, too. The glasses that framed his dark eyes were name brand and sleek. His suit was freshly ironed and immaculate. Even his shoes looked like they were spit-shined. His hair was the most distinct thing he showed with a somewhat informal right part that let bangs hang over his face.

Yamato knew how this new teacher must see him. If not for the blue eyes of a foriegner, people would take his naturally blond hair as a rebellious fashion statement. He wore his uniform loose, the tie more loose, and his clothes were wrinkled.

As kind as Kinu was, she wasn't going to do his laundry for him, and his father being absent most of his life, he certainly knew how.

"How does someone with a degree get lost?" Yamato smirked.

"I imagine you would be quite lost if you moved to the city."

"I came from the city, bitch."

Jou had to stop walking at the sudden remark. What the Hell was with this kid? "Do you talk to all your elders like that?"

"Might as well."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"You know, you ask a lot of questions."

"You don't learn if you don't ask questions. Maybe you wouldn't be up on the roof if you wanted to learn more."

"I've tried asking questions and you know what I get? Fucking excuses. So, you know what, don't lecture me on things you're not paid to."

Yamato shoved past him and into the classroom. Jou stood in the hall, bewildered for a moment, then composed himself and walked inside. He greeted himself and then instructed everyone else to do so.

"Ishida, Yamato."

The blond boy stood. Jou had to admit he was a little embarassed for accusing him earlier. He was obviously more Japanese than he appeared. As if reinforcing this to Jou personally, Yamato quipped: "Yes, I'm Japanese. No, my hair isn't dyed. My mother is half French. I just moved here but I've visited often. If you have anything to say to me, say it to my face."

He sat down and avoided all the whispers and glares by staring out the window. Clouds had rolled in over the last fifteen minutes. Jou figured the rest of his day didn't bode well, either. He continued to teach science, something that always came as second nature to him. Bigger schools usually had a seperate teacher for homeroom, but Principal Fujiyama had requested Jou take such minimal extra work on as a personal favor. There wasn't much to work with at a smaller, under-budgeted school, but he enjoyed improvising fun projects with minimal and cheap materials. Most of the kids, Yamato excluded, seemed to appreciate it. Jou knew one of the main reasons he was hired for this bumpkin position was due to his enthusiasm and he thanked his father for that. Sort of.

The bell rang before he knew it, signaling lunch and the end of their class for that day. Everyone brought out their food, including Yamato. Jou couldn't help but watch the boy. He was that troubled child in movies that he dreamed of helping one day. A little thing to check off his list... A little selfish and advantageous on his part, but nonetheless. Yamato pulled a bento from his desk. Jou figured his grandmother had amazing talent as the meal was downright cutesy in preparation, from octo-snausage to sandwiches with pressed designs in the bread. Even the rice was decorated with vegetables and nori.

Jou turned to his own lunch—storebought. He didn't have a cooking bone in his body.

Jou left from his first day's work around six P.M. He just left the school when he almost tripped over something—someone.

"Are you waiting up?" Jou asked.

Yamato didn't look up from his position on the stairs. He sat with his elbows on his knees and a nearly-gone cigarette between his teeth. He had been outside the building for sometime; his hair was wet. Occasionally he shivered.

"Need a lift?" Jou continued and stepped down. The rain was still coming down hard, but his car wasn't far.

"No. I'll walk."

"Then why haven't you?"

"To make you ask more dumb questions," Yamato growled. He tossed the cigarette butt into the rain. "Maybe some jackass stole my bike and I live further out than the only bus goes?"

"Again," Jou coughed. He held out a hand. "Please let me escort you home."

"It's too far out of your way," Yamato mumbled.

"Where are you located?"

Yamato explained.

Jou was surprised. He actually didn't live too far. Personally, he hated taking a car, but it was the only way to get to his job on time. "Well?"

Yamato agreed to disagree wth himself and followed Jou to his car. Once inside, Jou reached into the back and pulled out a bright yellow raincoat. He offered it to Yamato, who quickly pulled the hood over his head. Was that the sunset peeking through the rain or his cheeks growing a faint shade of pink?

They drove home in the quiet of classical music. Jou occasionally hummed a symphony or two.

Although the rain seemed to be clearing up at school, the rain seemed to progressively get worse as they drove further. At some points water flushed up over the windshield and at others they drove so slow it didn't seem like they had moved. Eventually, Jou drove up to a set of road blocks. Someone manning it informed them of a flash flood on the road ahead, to Kinu's.

"Fuck him. Let's walk," Yamato insisted.

"Sure, if you feel like being drowned today," Jou sighed. "My house is a few roads back and on high ground. It's either that or I take you back to school until tomorrow."

"My grandmother could be hurt!" Yamato demanded. He slammed his fist down on the dash and the raincoat fell to his shoulders. "We have to go."

Jou closed his eyes to think. All he could see was his student's eyes, determined and cold, boring into him. Still, he was officially responsible for this young man. Walking or driving through the flash flooding was suicide. Then again, Yamato may not care about that...

"Get out now, if you want to. I won't risk my life continuing. Keep in mind your grandmother is probably used to this kind of thing and has a designated area she can go. She's probably more worried about you. I would like to try and call her from my place."

"Don't you have a cell phone?" Yamato whined. "What idiot doesn't have a phone?"

"I just moved here. I don't have service. I don't see you with one, either."

"I'm a broke high school student," the blond muttered. "I have an excuse."

Jou watched as Yamato forced his cheek into the passenger side mirror. Something about him was so adorably childlike and innocent despite the front he put on. Still, he didn't get out of the car. He was lonely and worried and Jou knew from taking care of his own son back in the city that some fresh fruit and ice cold drinks were what they needed to avoid the humid, hot air of April.

Jou pulled up to his home. The house wasn't much. Traditional, but at the top of a hill. Forest surrounded either side for quite a ways, until other, similar houses popped up in the distance. The rain continued to pour down.

Yamato yelped upon exiting the car. He grabbed onto the mirror and hood just in time to not be swept away. Jou extended his hand again and they made the short trek up the stairs and into the house.

They both dripped rainwater and sweat, like stray dogs. Jou sighed. He hadn't thought about all this when he was considering the young man's safety before.

"I think I have some clothes you can change into. My laundry room is that way, you can put your things there. I don't have a dryer, so..."

Yamato missed the laundromat he and his Dad visited. The country didn't have things like that. He wasn't used to hanging his clothes on a line. Not that they could now, anyway. Yamato looked out the window to the pouring rain and wondered of Kinu. Jou was probably right; she was definetly a capable woman.

Jou left to find clothes and Yamato scanned the home. Right of the entrance was a living room and a deck. To the left lay a tiny kitchen and what Jou had called a laundry room: a bathing area with a few hampers in it. He probably washed all his clothes by hand, too. Even Kinu had a washing machine... Yamato stepped inside the bathing room. The boards that made up the floor were dark and aged. A bucket with cleaning formula sat near the door.

The blond suddenly remembered he was supposed to clean the washroom at home, otherwise mold from the humid start of summer would creep in. He felt a pain in his chest as he worried further and started taking off his clothes. What was he going to wear tomorrow? This was his school uniform, after all...

If he had a home to go back to.

A large mirror rested over a moderate, vintage sink. Yamato caught himself staring at his reflection and turned away.

A knock on the wall. Through the doorway—there was no door to the front of the bathing room—Jou stood with his back to the wall. He held out a change of clothes: a plain, white t-shirt and some dark blue pajama bottoms.

"I hope these are alright. I'm a bit taller than you, so you might wanna roll them up."

Yamato snatched them away and retreated into the actual washroom and changed. The clothes were very soft. Again, probably high-end. He felt wrapped in a comforter. A little warm, maybe, but comfortable.

"Ishida, I've got a snack for you. Should help steer the heat."

Yamato smiled. How long had it been since anyone else did anything for him? His mother wasn't allowed to see him, his father was always gone, and his grandmother was stern in light of his teenage antics... He swooned for a moment until he realized how long he had stood there.

There wasn't room for a kitchen table and instead the plates of sliced fruit and cold drinks were on the center of the coffee table. Yamato tiptoed over, trying not to trip on the long pajama sleeves. Even the shirt reached down to the middle of his butt. Jou wasn't just an adult, he was a tall adult.

Yamato sat, ignoring the pouring rain outside, and reached for a slice of fruit. The melon was butchered. He immediately threw his hands down and picked up the plate. Maybe it was just the angle? No, that was just how fucking terrible it looked. All different sizes and shapes. Did Jou maul it or slice it?!

"What in fuck's sake did you do?!" Yamato shrieked.

Jou came running from the kitchen, knife still in hand and dripping with water. "What? What happened? Is something the matter?!"

"Look what you did to this food!"

"Oh... is that all? You sounded like... I don't even know what you sounded like."

"I'm in absolute terror," Yamato huffed. "How does a grown man not know how to use a knife?!"

Jou blushed deeply. His father always prepared the food for the household... what with his mother unable to and his father unable to trust Jou or his two brothers...

"I... I'm sorry?" Jou managed. He shrugged and stepped closer into the sunken living room. "I'll take it back. I have more melon."

Yamato snatched the plate back and shoved a few slices into his mouth. Then, between breaths, he spoke, "No. No point wasting food. I'll just have to show you how to use a fucking knife. Fuck's sake..."

Jou smiled weakly as Yamato ate. Soon, he joined Yamato in the living room and sipped on cold tea and milk. The rain still wasn't letting up, so Jou turned on the television to find out what was going on as well as break the unbearable, awkward silence.

"Flash flood warnings... the next couple of days... are they serious?" Jou sighed. He removed his glasses and set them on the table. "In April? It's a little early..."

Yamato grinned. "I bet you they close school for the week! Take that you Hell-prison!"

"Ishida..."

"Call me Yamato, damn it. So fucking formal all the time..."

"You do realize you won't be leaving here, either, until I can confirm the roads are safe again?"

Yamato nearly choked on a slice of watermelon. "What?! I get a fabulous vacation and I have to spend it with a damn teacher? Baaaalllls!"

"Hey, you're not a picnic, either," Jou reminded. "I barely have enough here to feed and clothe myself, what am I going to do with you?"

Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry about me. I'll leave in the morning."

"Ish—Yamato, you will not. I'm responsible for you. I'm sure you have no idea what it is to care for another human being, but it's important."

"There you go again, presuming what I know and don't know. Fuck you." Yamato looked around for a moment, left the room, then returned with his cigarettes. Most of them were spared, especially the spare pack unopened. He lit one and sat back down on the couch. He used the empty glass as an ashtray.

"Excuse me, what makes you think you can do that in my house with my own dishware? Does your grandmother let you do that?"

"Heck no, that's why I'm doing it here."

Jou cracked his neck in frustration. "You don't respect anyone do you? I've yet to hear you address me as you should and you've yet to say thank you for anything I've done."

"...and what are you gonna do, throw me out into the floodwater?" Yamato smirked. Then, Jou shook his head and walked back into the privacy of the kitchen. Yamato heard dishes and water. He thought first of how humid the room was going to get—the dehumidifier nearby did little as it was, but then he realized he had hurt Teacher-guy's feelings. He sighed and went over to the breakfast bar which looked into the kitchen.

"Jou... I can be a pain in the ass. I'm sorry. I'm worried about my grandmother."

"That doesn't give you any right to treat me this way."

"Someone's acting like a child. I'm apologizing here."

"Me?" Jou asked and slammed down a plate. He turned around to face his tormentor. "You've done nothing but act like a spoiled little brat since I offered you a ride home."

"I didn't ask for you to do that."

"You didn't say no, either!"

The two men grumbled and turned away from one another. They couldn't get a long for a half hour, how were they going to survive a possible week together?