Chapter Text
“Kirishima-san, thank you for your time. However, unfortunately we’re going to have to let you go.”
“What? But I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to! Please sir, please! I need this job. Isn’t there any way I can keep it?”
“The board has decided that your work, while satisfactory, isn’t anything particularly impressive. You don’t make the cut. I’m sorry, Kirishima-san. The board’s decision is final.”
“I… I see… I understand.”
Ryouma took a deep breath as he exited his boss’ room. He shut the door and stood there blankly, staring at the opposite wall as the reality of what just happened sunk in. Honestly, he should have expected this. It was always like this.
The red-head moved instinctively to his desk to clear it. No one talked to him. No one asked where he was going. Everyone in the office ignored him as he grabbed his bag and a small framed photo and left. He was unimportant here, simply a background character in everyone’s life. It was like this everywhere.
The bus came quickly. Ryouma swiped his bus pass. However, the card reader gave a loud shriek as a red light flashed on, the words ‘NO CREDIT’ appearing on screen. Ryouma grimaced. Not again.
The man searched his wallet for cash but it was empty. He looked at the bus driver who just glared at him. He rummaged through his bag. There was nothing in it. Just his broken phone and his photo.
“Either pay or get off.”
“Sorry…”
“Worthless bum.” Ryouma got down from the bus and hurried away, cheeks red in shame as the old man behind him tutted in disgust. He walked down the road, doing his best to not look at anyone around him. He was invisible, as far as everyone else was concerned.
Ryouma had to get a job on the other side of the city since it was the only place that would take him, so the walk home was long. It was cold but Ryouma constantly felt cold these days, especially now that his good clothes were thin and worn out. He knew looked shabby but Ryouma didn’t care. He didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He knew he would only see a mess.
It had been fourteen years since his graduation from Binan High and Ryouma still couldn’t find a place where he belonged in the world. Ryouma thought he would have settled down by now but this was his eighth job he had been fired from. He was good enough to get the jobs but in the end he was always replaced. Cast aside. Forgotten.
Ryouma made his way to his decrepit rental home. He stared at the small, dreary entrance. He wished he could afford something better but the tiny residence was something far out of his budget already. The man took the mail out of the mailbox and stared at the envelopes. A lump formed in his throat as he saw the stamped words across the first letter, just above the window with his name and address.
He walked inside into the near-empty house and fumbled his way to the kitchen where a lone chair and table was. He sat down and opened the letter with trembling hands. He stared at the eviction notice.
“No way…” Ryouma’s ran blood ran cold. They had already cut off the electricity but was he really that far behind on his rent? Ryouma rang the number attached to the bill to see if it was a mistake.
“I’m sorry, Kirishima-san. We’ve given you ample chances. You’re simply unable to look after your household. We want you out in three days.”
Was he really that unable to look after his house? Himself?
Ryouma didn’t know what he was doing. One moment he was staring at his cracked phone and the next he was on his bed, the photograph from his desk in his hand. He felt his heart ache as he looked at the photo of the Defence Club just after Nanao’s graduation. The five of them were posing in the club room, grinning happily.
He had looked after everyone else back then, didn’t he? As a caretaker? As someone trustworthy and reliable? What had happened since then? Taishi, Ichiro, Nanao, Kyotaro… He hadn’t seen any of them in such a long time. They had all ignored his attempts to get in contact with them. The last person who he saw was Kyotaro and Kyotaro certainly didn’t need him anymore. How had he gone from everyone’s caretaker to someone unable to take care of himself?
“Why am I alone?”
Despair took his heart.
“Thanks to that advertising campaign, all of our sales have gone up. Wakura-san, you were right once again. You really are amazing.”
“Oh, it was nothing. I’m glad we’re doing so well.”
“And that’s the last of my report. We’re done for the day, sir. You can head home now if you want.”
“Actually I wanted to see if I could go join the rest of the team for drinks. You won’t mind if I tag along with you all, neh?”
“Ah… are you sure, Wakura-san? Frankly, I don’t think you’d enjoy yourself. You’re the CEO after all… You’re well out of our league.”
Nanao watched the door close with a click. He sighed as he slumped into his chair, rubbing his temples. Honestly, it always happened like this. Why was he even surprised anymore? It was always going to be this way.
The blonde spent a few more minutes doing paperwork before he closed his folder. He had been in a good mood earlier but he felt suddenly drained. Nanao slipped his laptop into his bag and grabbed his car keys before he walked out of his office. He headed down the stairs down to the ground floor where a number of people were still lingering and chatting. There was a murmur and suddenly all eyes were on him.
Nanao flashed them a smile and it was returned kindly. However, silence followed. There was a heavy, awkward pause between Nanao and his employees. Nanao’s chest tightened and he felt like he was being strangled suddenly. It was so quiet. It always was when they weren’t talking about work. A few people looked like they wanted to say something but in the end, they didn’t. They just stared at him like they weren’t sure what to do in his presence.
“Goodnight everyone,” Nanao said finally. He exhaled. So did everyone else.
“Goodnight, Wakura-san.” Everyone nodded to him in acknowledgment. Nanao stepped towards the exit but paused.
“Did anyone want to say anything?”
No one did.
Nanao walked off, hearing the muttering come back up as soon as he closed the door. The mumbles were quiet but animated. Everyone had a partner to talk to. A friend to confide in. The people at Nanao’s company may have admired and respected him but there was a sheet of glass between him and the others. Nanao couldn’t break it and no one could get close.
The silence followed Nanao like a bridal train, swamping everything in his wake. Even when he got to the parking lot, two guys stopped talking to look at him. Nanao waved and they waved back. They didn’t call out to him.
Nanao knew he should have been happy. His future was basically set. Thanks to his startup getting the support he needed while he was still in university, he was now a successful CEO at thirty-three. His life was supposedly perfect. He had good looks, a brilliant mind and endless amount of charm.
Yet everything was quiet.
His stomach churned and his mouth felt dry the entire drive home. If it wasn’t for the gentle hum of the radio, filling up the void in his car, Nanao was sure he would have been sick.
“I’m home.” His voice echoed through the corridors, reverberating around the entrance hall. Nanao chuckled quietly to himself and he shook his head. He always called out. He wasn’t sure why he did. He wasn’t expecting anyone to welcome him home.
Nanao’s house was modest, despite his wealth, but it still felt too large. His footsteps rang through the white halls as Nanao threw his coat and bag onto the couch. Nanao swallowed roughly.
He wondered if he was deaf. Ever since graduation, it seemed that everyone could hear him speak but he couldn’t hear them back. People admired him and pined after him, so why didn’t they call out to him? Why did they shy away when he approached them?
The silence scared him but it was all he had.
Nanao didn’t know what he was doing. One moment, he was staring at the sofa and the next he was on his bed, staring at the lone photo on his bedside table. His heart was aching as he gazed at the photo of the Defence Club just after his graduation. The five of them were posing in the club room, grinning happily.
Things had been better then, hadn’t they been? He was respected but he wasn’t completely isolated. His friends were his friends. He had friends. Taishi, Kyotaro, Ryouma, Ichiro… He hadn’t seen any of them in such a long time. Those first few years, Ichiro had tried to stay in contact but eventually he faded out of his life, didn’t he? How had he gone from someone who was part of a team to someone in isolation?
“Why am I alone?”
Despair took his heart.
“Manza Taishi. Aged 31. In for aggravated assault, participation in organised crime and potentially being responsible of manslaughter.”
“What of it?”
“Hmph… I was just seeing if the rumours were true. You may not be the worst but you really are the biggest delinquent here.”
“…I’m not.”
“That’s what people like you always say.”
Taishi sighed as he pushed up his glasses. He looked at the guard expectantly, not wanting to chitchat for any longer than he had to. There was a long pause before the prison guard pulled open the door, finally letting sunlight hit his skin.
The man took a deep breath as he took his first steps out of the tiny cell. He leaned over and clenched the rail, glad to be finally out of solitary confinement after two long days. Even though the tiny space was getting unsettlingly familiar, Taishi never got used to it.
“Let’s go. Hurry up.” Taishi nodded. With a final inhale, he pushed himself up and followed after the guard.
Even though they were on one of the upper floors, prisoners that were being shuffled by guards stared up at him. Taishi could feel their eyes on him, judging him as they always did. He wanted to yell at them and tell them to mind their own business but his lips felt frozen together. It was always like this.
Taishi was escorted to the mess hall. People looked at him like he was some kind of animal, something to be wary of. They knew what he had done. He did too, even though it was so long ago that the memories were fuzzy.
“The Manza is back.”
“He doesn’t seem sorry.”
The man pushed his glasses up. Even though he was tired, he steeled himself. He walked forward and joined the queue of hungry prisoners to get their slop for the day. Despite being shorter and more slim than some of the guys in front of him, the men still got out of his way. Taishi walked forward, drawing distain from everyone around him.
“Beating up all those guards with his bare hands though…”
Taishi tried to ignore it. He sat down at the lunch table, wishing someone could see how much it hurt when people got up and moved away from him. Everyone thought he was scum. Everyone thought he didn’t care that people who had done far worse crimes thought he was so deplorable. He did care! He did! Who did he have to yell at to get his feelings through? Why couldn’t anyone see how hurt he was?
After graduation he was supposed to have moved on to bigger and better things. However, what happened in the last thirteen years subverted everything he worked so hard towards in high school. He had ended up in a bad neighbourhood and a tight spot. He had encountered his old gang. He made a mistake.
“I heard like he was that since high school. Did you know he used to be a delinquent?”
“Everyone knows that. He’s a monster.”
That’s all they saw, didn’t they? Taishi hated it. He hated not being able to speak his mind and he felt some sort of obligation too keep himself in check. He hated that his past was smeared across his face, on display for all to see. His past was the reason why his future was ruined. Everyone knew he was a delinquent and what kind of person he was.
“No wonder he’s alone all the time.”
“He’s a cold bastard.”
Taishi knew he shouldn’t have done it. He really shouldn’t have gotten up and screamed. Sadness and hurt manifested as anger. Guilt became rage. He hit the two closest gossipers square in the face.
A fight broke out. Cracks. Yells. Screams. Taishi tore up everyone around him, snarling and hissing. Everyone knew he was a beast. A menace. A delinquent.
Taishi didn’t know what he was doing. One moment he was explaining himself to some guards and the next he was back in the solitary confinement. The photograph that was hidden in the frame of his glasses now in his hand. His heart ached as he looked at the photo of the Defence Club just after Nanao’s graduation. The five of them were posing in the club room, grinning happily.
He had fit in back then, hadn't he? He wasn’t a monster. He was a person. He was known for his intellect and not his aggression. Ryouma, Kyotaro, Nanao, Ichiro… He hadn’t seen any of them in such a long time. What did they all think of him now? No one had ever visited, not even Ichiro. They knew what kind of angry maniac he was, didn’t they? How had he gone from someone who had a future to someone who was going to be rotting in jail for his past for the rest of his life?
“Why am I alone?”
Despair took his heart.
“Ichiro. Come over here. Pose for the camera. We need to make sure we have all of these perfect before the end of the night.”
“Of course… We wouldn’t want them to be anything less than perfect.”
“Thank you, dear. You really know what to say, don’t you? …Ah, are you alright? How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Ichiro sighed as soon as the attention was off of him. When he was sure no one was looking his way, the bright smile he had melted off his face. He frowned as he turned, looking for a corner to hide away in.
Everything ached. His heart. His head. Everything. A dull throb that he could acknowledge but never quite feel. Ichiro shuffled away from the dull drone of the elite chittering amongst themselves, hoping that it would soothe his headache. He hoped. He didn’t think it would. It was always like this.
Ichiro hadn’t felt cheerful in a very long time. The last time he smiled was at graduation thirteen years ago, when he had slung his arm around Taishi and bellowed for everyone to hear that he passed his classes. That was the last day he felt truly like himself. Not whoever… whatever he was now.
“Excuse me… Excuse me…”
Ichiro made his way through the hotel ballroom. He scowled. Too many people lingering against the walls and in corners for his tastes, there was nowhere to get privacy. He made a break for the balcony, hoping that such a cold night would deter people from being outside.
However, people of status talked at him as he passed. ‘At’ him, not ‘to’ him. To be talking to him meant they were talking to Ichiro, not whatever fake persona that Ichiro put on. They talked at him and presented him with flattery, with statements of what a fine young man he had grown into and how good the family business was. They asked him about his cousin. They twisted their words with ulterior motives.
And Ichiro did it right back at them.
Ichiro talked back at them. He pretended he understood what they were saying. He had long mastered the art of lying.
“Of course, that sounds lovely. How wonderful. He’s fine, thank you.” He hated it. He hated lying. He hated having to conceal his thoughts, who he really was.
However, who he was had no place in this world. No one wanted or needed an idiot, someone so reckless and bull-headed. Ichiro had learned that long ago. After trying to desperately find his own place and failing miserably, he ended up crawling back to his parents. He gave up. Instead of forging his own path to wherever he wanted, he became a puppet that was shaped to take over his father’s company.
A fake. Someone who was more self-conscious. Someone who was trapped. Who couldn’t go anywhere. A liar.
Ichiro slipped past the people one by one. Getting outside was sweet relief and he nearly cried as he took a breath of fresh air. He didn’t cry. Crying was unsightly. So was blushing. So was anger. He had to be more self-aware and controlled than that. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was a man. This was his life. This was the right way to behave.
Right?
Why did it feel like this?
Ichiro stared at the moon from the balcony and the twinkling stars in the sky. His warm breath curled against the falling snow as he stared up at the vastness of space. The numbness he felt in his chest spread throughout his entire body.
“Dougo? Sorry... Ichiro?”
“Ah… yes?”
“Come on, we’re going to have to get this merger going, dear. You’re alright, aren’t you?”
He wanted to say no. He so desperately wanted to say no. He wanted to get out of this place where people didn’t care about him. He wanted to be free.
“Of course. I just needed some air. Lead the way.”
Ichiro didn’t know what he was doing. One moment he was at the party and the next thing he knew, he was on his bed in his hotel room, the photograph from his wallet in his hand. He could feel his aching heart throb even more painfully as he looked at the photo of the Defence Club just after Nanao’s graduation. The five of them were posing in the club room, grinning happily.
He was actually happy back then, wasn’t he? He had a genuine smile back then. He was able to be himself. What happened? Where was his straightforwardness from high school? Ryouma, Kyotaro, Taishi, Nanao… He hadn’t seen any of them in such a long time. Would Nanao be disappointed in him? How had he gone from open and honest to an empty person who hid behind twisted words?
“Why am I alone?”
Despair took his heart.
“We have to save them.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure… but we have to try.”