JOCK: Warrior Quarterback, jersey number 12.

Cloud grew up in Tokyo, Japan in a single parent family. His father raised him learning both Japanese and English, of course the man himself never taught his son either language. No, he had a team for that. A team to raise the boy that he never really wanted but was left with when his wife passed away giving birth to the burden. Cloud had always known he wasn’t wanted. 

From the second he was born, not one of his mother’s wishes were met and in turn, his own fell by the wayside. Cloud. It was the name his aunt decided had suited him best when she visited the new arrival at the mansion his father owned, twenty days after his birth. It was the only reason he had a name at all. His father had no intention of dealing with his son, not in any way, shape or form. He would simply provide the boy with all the amenities he could ever want or need and hope that one day, he decided to move out from under his father’s roof and go out into the world on his own, leaving the elder man to continue attending the various parties in town where only the wealthiest of people were invited and sleeping with the many women that he met at these functions. Cloud was no fool, he knew his dad had a different woman in his bed every night. He had known that for as long as he could remember. It just brought home how little his mother really did mean to the man. Not one of her pictures decorated their substantial home. No, they were all in Cloud’s room. 

Things in both men’s lives ran pretty much the same way, like clockwork with them barely seeing one other at all in a day. Simply ships passing in the night without a word uttered between them, but for the necessary chit-chat when they were stood in the same room too long and the silence became uncomfortable. Cloud attended his football games and loved playing; it was the only current source of happiness in his life. That is until he met a cute Japanese boy in class and took him home to show him his culinary skills. Really, it’s not a euphemism for anything, he really did just cook for the kid. Until Cloud’s father came home early to find his son kissing said boy in the kitchen after some spaghetti and meatballs with a large helping of a rather spicy marinara sauce. To put it mildly, he was not best pleased and the whole “gay thing”, ended up being Cloud’s undoing. He found himself shipped off to Kokoro within the year and told to straighten himself out. He imagined his father had meant that in more ways than one, but he knew nothing could change who he was. Keeping his secret from his team in Japan had been relatively easy considering how affectionate Asian men tended to be with one another, but at his new college, it was a whole new ball game. He had a feeling he would struggle at Kokoro, but he was up for the challenge. Even if all he did was prove his worth to his father, it would be worth it.