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From the moment Soren woke up with a crick in his neck, he knew it was going to be a bad day. The toast was burned (not that he cared, breakfast was only a formality), he couldn't find his history book (it was on top of the refrigerator of all places), he ended up making himself and Ike late (not that Ike minded). Then of course, it was two days before the big test and everyone who either ignored or hated him was suddenly whining for his help (if it wasn't bribery it was passive-aggressive guilt tripping) and on top of it all, he'd forgotten his lunch (not that he cared; again, food was just a formality).
By the time school was out, he just wanted to go home and lock himself in the study with a book. But of course, Mist had her friends over and they were watching movies. Loudly. When he told them to knock it off Rolf started to cry and the girls gave him such death glares. That got him a scolding from Greil, unwanted sympathy from Elena, and in the end he stormed out of the house. Even the muggy late afternoon air was a welcome change from people.
He didn't know how far or how long he'd walked, avoiding glances, chewing back anger and rejection and disgust. Soon it started to get dark and he knew Elena and the others would be missing him. Let them. He didn't want family or company or anything like it right now.
"Hey! Soren!"
Normally Ike's voice would have lifted his spirits, but by now he was so angry at the world he didn't even want to see his best friend. What if Ike felt sorry for him? What if he ended up spilling his feelings everywhere?
"Soren!" Ike, clad in a football jersey and faded jeans, sprinted down the sidewalk; he was a fast runner so Soren obviously wouldn't be able to escape him. He sighed and let it happen.
"How was practice?"
"It was okay," Ike said. "What're you doing out here this late?"
"Just going for a walk," Soren said tightly. "Tell your parents I'll be back later."
"Soren, it's almost six-thirty. You know we're not allowed to stay out so late without calling first." Ike put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Ugh. When Elena had asked him, he'd simply walked away, but this was Ike. The person who always managed to cut through his defenses. His shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hand.
"No. In fact, I'm the opposite of okay. I'd rather wait here until everyone at home is asleep, and then I can go to sleep and forget today ever happened," he said. He expected some clumsy attempt at reassurance, some useless words Ike's mother had taught him to say when someone was feeling bad. But the words never came, instead Ike hugged him and Soren felt his heart leap a bit in his chest.
"Come on," Ike said after a long silence. "I'll buy you a pizza."
"Yes, Ike, I would love to go to a crowded restaurant full of cheerleaders and jocks at their busiest time of the day," Soren muttered. "You get an A for your efforts, but-"
"Not there." Ike smiled. "I meant the other place. They're never as busy on Thursdays and we can get a booth all the way in the back. Come on, let me treat you. You barely ate any breakfast and you forgot your lunch." As if to spite him, Soren's stomach growled a little.
"Very well."
"Just let me call my folks." Ike took out his phone, hit speed dial and after a few words hung up. "They said it's fine as long as we're back by nine."
"All right." Hungry and exhausted, Soren allowed Ike to lead him down the road.
True to Ike's word, the restaurant was nearly empty save for a few college students too absorbed in their books to notice the pair. Ike found them a table far in the back, away from the noises of the outside and customers walking in and the sound of phones ringing. When the waitress came, she was more interested in taking their order than making small talk.
"We'll take an extra-large meat lovers," Ike said. Soren rolled his eyes.
"Really, Ike?"
"I'm kidding." He smiled and turned his attention to the waitress. "Medium, red peppers?" Soren almost smiled.
"And ham."
"Anything to drink?" the girl asked.
"Orange soda," Ike said.
"Flat water." Soren only drank soda on certain occasions, and tonight he didn't particularly feel like anything sweet or bubbly. The waitress left, and Ike reached across the table to pat Soren's hand.
"I'd say something comforting, but-"
"It's fine. Actually, I'd prefer you didn't." Soren sighed. "No, just...being here is enough. Away from people." Except for you. His anger was slowly fading, Ike always seemed to have that effect on him. "Thank you, Ike."
"Food always helps me feel better when I'm upset," Ike said. "I know you're not as big on food as I am, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try."
The food and drinks arrived, and they ate in relative silence. For once, Ike ate slowly and didn't put away as much as he usually did. Soren divided his attention between watching Ike and trying to let the nourishment comfort him. It was pretty tasty, as far as processed cheese and tomato sauce on a doughy crust could be. He had two slices; it would have only been one if Ike hadn't insisted he eat more. Ike had three, and they decided to bring the last one home for Boyd and Rolf to fight over the next day when they stopped by.
"Are you feeling any better?" Ike asked when they were half a block away from the house.
"I'd be lying if I said I'd suddenly forgotten about today. Or that food is much of a comfort to me," Soren said. "But...it did help. A little. At least my stomach is no longer gnawing at me from the inside." Again, he almost smiled. "I...appreciate the effort. That's what matters, that you came to find me and...tried to make me feel better. Without being stupid about it."
Once again, Ike's arm wrapped around him and pulled him close. The sound of crickets, the sun setting on the horizon, Ike's closeness...Soren felt a bit of warmth rising in his chest. He wondered if it was heartburn from the pizza, but heartburn was painful. This was anything but.
"You don't need to thank me." Their eyes met, Soren's cheeks grew warm and for the briefest moment he expected...something to happen. He didn't know what. But...
"Well, we should go inside and brave the inquisition," he said, pulling away slightly. "Um, again, thank you."
Years later, Soren would always consider that night their first date. He wouldn't remember any of the other pointless details, only the warmth of Ike's hand, the greasy taste of the pizza and the sun setting on the horizon.