Tetsuo Tachikaze (_tachikaze) wrote in genome_project, @ 2010-11-09 23:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | mao sakibou, november 2010 |
WHO: Tetsuo and Mao
WHAT: Someone needs a talking to
WHERE: Their house
WHEN: Early evening, Nov. 11th
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete
Logical as he was, there were just some things that he didn't like doing. They might have been necessary and entirely imperative accorind to the situation and yet...Tetsuo still felt as if doing those things wasn't exactly the best. One such thing? Talking to Mao. Not in the way of normal conversation. He loved talking to his "half-brother" under regular circumstances, no matter if he did get to be a tad annoying and childish (and that was being generous) some of the time. It was the serious talks that were an issue. Tetsuo did not enjoy denying Mao or telling him no. And he also did not enjoy the times when stern talks or punishment came into play. It was just so...difficult. In his mind, Tetsuo knew that it shouldn't have been. It should have been simple. Point A to Point B, in theory. But in practice, it wasn't the same.
But whether he liked it or not, some things needed to be addressed. Mao's grades in school, for one, but also his "extracurricular activities." It was hard not to notice the nights when Mao had come home drunk or high. His friends had to have had a hand in that, considering that he'd been coming home from parties. It was strange, the web of interactions between people that Mao was tangled in, so to speak. James Baker and Lukas Fox...there were others that were his friends (or whatever Mao would call them. Things had been rather up and down), but the two boys were the most notable. And they encouraged the behavior, likely.
What he could do about it, though, he had no idea. First things first, however, he needed to talk to Mao. He'd been mulling over it all day (as if mulling over it in the days after the occurrences hadn't been enough) and finally he'd brought himself out of the depths of his mind in order to actually take action. He was sitting in the living in his armchair, looking down at his hands as he thought. "Mao-kun?" he called out, knowing full well that the boy was around. "Can you come here?"