“If it’s alright with you,” Douglas Parker said to Mika a few minutes later, “I’m going to steal my grandson away for a bit.”
“Y-yeah,” Mika said, his eyes wide and his voice a hollow echo. “Genya–”
“I’ll call you later, I promise,” Gen said, standing up. As his grandfather walked away, he said softly and with voice cracking, “I love you, Mika Torino.”
“I love you, Genya.” They touched their fingers to their lips and Gen ended the call. He took a deep breath and followed his grandfather to the mechanic’s shed.
-*-
Jo walked up to Mika as he slowly lowered the phone to his side. “Mika? Is everything okay?”
“Mom? What did you say Dad did?” He slowly turned around, meeting his mother’s gaze. “For work…what did you say he did?”
Jo gulped, her eyes beginning to waver. “W-hy do you ask?”
Mika’s eyes, blank from what he had just learned, hardened as he stared at his mother. A mother who had lied to him for years. His hand tightened around his phone. “Because,” he said, his voice quiet, “I just met his former partner.”
A tear ran down Jo’s face.
“Detective Douglas Parker.”
-*-
Gen shut the heavy door behind him as his grandfather headed to the back corner where the sparring ring was located.
“Suit up,” Doug ordered.
Shit…
Gen walked over to where the padding was located and pulled what he needed. When he was ready, he joined his grandfather in the makeshift sparring ring, Douglas with punching bags on his hands and a rubber helmet on to protect his ears and skull. Gen was grateful he was wearing long shorts instead of jeans, otherwise the knee pads would be far more uncomfortable. He’d also kicked off his shoes and socks and held the hated mouth guard in one of his gloved hands. The fighting gloves were fingerless with a large pad that covered his knuckles, perfect for MMA fighting and more comfortable when he was training than the traditional kickboxing gloves.
“Grandad, do we have to do this now? I thought we were sparring tomorrow with Ty.”
“And we will.” He put his hands up and took a strong stance. “I want to see where you are before then.”
Fuck…
Gen sighed and put the guard in his mouth, raised his fists to just under his chin, opened his feet up, left foot forward, and bent his knees slightly.
“Okay, start slow,” Doug said, “One, one, two. One, one, up, kick, two, good.” He continued to guide Gen through the easy punches, making sure his swings were clean and his feet were moving properly. After a minute, he added in a few swings, testing Gen’s bob and weave skills. He stepped forward, forcing Gen back, his swings coming faster. Gen dodged, striking out against his grandad’s center, hitting him in the ribs, padded by the foam armor.
As they went, Gen noticed Doug’s strikes and moves were coming faster and harder. He was able to keep up, but when the force behind them became more intense, he grew concerned. What the hell, we don’t usually go this hard this fast.
“Grandad…” He said, his feet moving quickly, his head ducking, his arms in a blocking position. “What–”
“Strike, stop blocking!” Douglas ordered.
Gen struck out with an uppercut, blocked by one of Doug’s padded hands. He kept going, striking, kicking, lunging forward and jumping back and to the sides as his grandfather’s moves continued to intensify. He realized after a few minutes of this that Doug was serious and his motive was clear: he was going to beat the shit out of him if Gen didn’t fight back.
Gen gritted his teeth around the mouth guard and he let his anger build through his fighting. For being in his early sixties, his grandfather was fast and strong, but Gen, younger and more limber, could move in different directions quickly and utilize his surroundings more effectively.
As he moved, he began to incorporate other moves his grandfather hadn’t taught him, to Doug’s great surprise and amusement. That anime he watches must have taught him a few things. Still, he wouldn’t let up. Gen was getting mad and that was just what he wanted. He wanted Gen angry, furious even, to let go of all of his pent up frustrations and rage and take it out on him.
“Did you really think,” Doug said, striking a hard blow to Gen’s stomach, making him bend over and nearly choke on his tongue. “That I would take back your truck?” Gen recovered and lunged at his grandfather, dropping him to the ground. “Are you seriously that fucking stupid, Eugene?”
A fire flashed in Gen’s eyes and he struck down fast at Doug’s face. Doug blocked it with his arm and flipped Gen over him. Gen rolled back onto his feet and struck out backwards, kicking at Doug’s legs, spinning once and kicking at his head, which his grandfather barely managed to avoid. The young man jumped back into a defensive position, breathing hard, his eyes blazing. He spit out his mouth guard, wiping his chin free of pink saliva.
“Even if you did,” he panted. “I don’t care. Mika’s worth that loss.”
“Is he?” Doug rushed him, coming in low with his fist raised. He landed a blow to Gen’s arm just as his other arm arched up aiming for his ribs. Gen saw it and kicked the arm away, spinning his grandfather around. He ducked under Doug and got his legs in a bear hug, bringing him to the floor.
He spun up, standing over the older man, fists up. “Mika’s everything to me, no matter what you may think or believe. I’m not going to leave him and I’m not going to hide him either, just so I can still be accepted by you.”
“Is that so?” Doug said. He raised his knee, knocking it into the back of Gen’s leg, dropping him. He clambered to his feet just as Gen got to his own. He turned, avoiding another side hook and a high kick. “How much are you willing to risk to keep that boy?”
“Everything!” Gen shouted, flying at Doug with a flurry of kicks and punches, leaping and dodging, and finally jumping off one of the metal pillars that held up the roof and coming down hard on Doug’s face. Before Doug could recover, Gen landed a solid kick to the right side of his head, dropping him. Landing a few feet away, he grabbed a pole that was resting up against the wall and turned back to his grandfather who was struggling to get up.
“I will risk absolutely everything for Mika Torino,” Gen growled, eyes blazing, his mohawk in disarray, locks hanging in his face. “I will risk my life, my freedom, my truck…” He pointed the end of the pole in Doug’s astonished face. “Even your approval, old man.”
Doug grinned, teeth flashing as he removed his padded helmet. “That was a good kick, kid,” he said as he got to his feet. “Let’s see what else you can do, shall we.” He feinted to the right, grabbing another of the wooden sticks as Gen spun around, swinging his down, connecting solidly with Doug’s as he raised it horizontally at his face.
Gen yelled and pushed him back, doing a flip in the air before coming down, his stick arching to the right to parry Doug’s.
“Why is it so important that I approve of you, Eugene? Do you think I don’t? That I never have? Even after everything you’ve been through!” Doug lunged at him, his stick flying, arching, parrying, striking Gen’s with each vigorous swing.
Gen came back with his own attacks, aiming for Doug’s vital points. “It doesn’t even matter if you disown me at this point!” Gen roared. “Take my truck and everything else, I don’t fucking care. How many times have I heard you and Gran talk about gay people? How many times have I had to sit there and listen to you demonize who I am and act like it didn’t hurt?” He stepped to the side and ducked as Doug swung his stick at Gen’s head. Gen rushed forward and swung his leg, knocking Doug’s feet out from under him.
“You could have said something!” Doug said. “Anything! Do you honestly believe I would turn you away? That I still will?”
“How can I believe anything else?” Gen took a few steps back, his stick lowered, panting. “You’re homophobic, Grandad. You and Gran. She hates who I am because her god tells her to be. You come from a time where we’re murdered or sent to prison for loving the wrong gender. And you want me to believe you’d accept me given all your years holding on to those beliefs? Do you!?” He raised his stick and rushed forward, swinging wildly, Doug barely managing to keep up.
“And you know the worst part?” Gen shouted. “When I told him that maybe he could come if we pretended to be just friends, I hurt him. I hurt him for you, old man! Your approval and acceptance meant everything to me growing up. You taught me to fight, got me sober, taught me everything I know about being a real man! You and Dad did that!” Gen’s fists and feet were added into his swordplay, connecting with Doug’s legs, chest, face, and arm, dropping him one last time.
Gen stood over him, once again the end pointed directly in his grandfather’s face, his own set with anger and pain. “You walked away, asshole,” he panted. “You walked away and now I’m to believe you still give a damn about me?” He tossed his stick aside and stepped back. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m in love with Mika…I’m in love with another boy. If you can’t accept that…” he swallowed and turned away. “Then fuck you.”
He didn’t make it three steps before Doug’s meaty hand was on his shoulder, spinning him around into a forceful hug. Gen stood there, frozen in shock, mouth open, not sure what was happening. Doug released him, one hand on the back of his neck, his eyes like glass marbles.
“Eugene, I do accept you. I accept you exactly as you are, gay or straight, or panda bear. You are my grandson, boy. My grandson…” He jabbed a finger into Gen’s chest. “You were a shit kid, there’s no doubt about that. And you can bet I’ve blamed your mother for it the entire time. But no matter what you’ve been through, the lies you’ve told or felt you had to tell because you were scared I wouldn’t still care about you, I have still always loved you, boy.”
Gen’s face collapsed as tears began to fall. Doug pulled him into another hug. “Gen, I would never disown you for being gay, and I am so damn sorry that I ever made you feel that way. I love you, boy. No matter who you are, or who you love.”
Gen squeezed his grandfather, his fingers digging into the old man’s strong back. “Thank you,” he whispered through his tears. “Thanks, Grandad.”
After a minute, Doug finally released him and gave two rough pats to Gen’s face. “Now stop your blubbering, you look like a bitch.”
“Gee, thanks, old man,” Gen muttered, wiping his face and walking toward the bench to remove his gear. As he slipped back into his shoes, Doug tossed a towel at him. Gen wiped his face then ran the towel over his head to the back of his neck. Doug leaned against a metal post, hands in pockets.
“Tell me about him,” he said.
Gen looked up.
“Tell me about Yuki’s son.”
Gen smiled and did just that.
-*-
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