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He didn’t know how long it’s been since he became like this. The traditional garments, his lilted voice, his tendency to lie—everything that brought the man known as Gentaro Yumeno to life. For how long had he lived his life behind a carefully crafted mask, sturdy yet fragile? Walking along the path destined for another, he refused to turn back, and consequently, lost himself in the process. An actor, destined for great things, yet rejected by many. One who wielded a great deal of talent, only to be cast aside by the ones he loved, tearing open a hole in what others would call a heart.
To him, the beating chunk of flesh and blood in his chest was a curse, for it reacted accordingly to all his emotions, and acted as the sole thing that determined life or death. Saying that it was something more would be something out of an author’s fantasy, where love at first sight existed, with happy endings as the usual outcome. Long ago had he stopped believing in such fallacies, sticking to the reality that nothing good would ever befall him again. Not after losing his only friend, his family, and ultimately, himself.
The words he spoke were never his to begin with, nor were the characters he wrote of on paper. Rather, they were ripped away from someone who he found dear to him, stuck in a comatose state, with a slim chance of survival. The twin brother who he latched onto for his sense of self, a pillar who he could rely on for stability, broken apart in an instant by a corrupt society that he couldn’t bear to live in for much longer. Nevertheless, he persisted, borrowing the guise of his brother, only to become trapped in a false mentality he’d created for himself.
Escapism, as he liked to call it.
His hands were no longer his, nor was his face or the rest of his being. No longer was he the brash, yet reclusive actor, looked down by all he came across… Instead of his former self, he was now his own brother, with the lighthearted personality and charisma he so envied. Having taken the identity of his sibling, he finally felt accepted by all, as the world-renowned novelist, who wrote stories rivaling that of the classics. He became so immersed in his new lifestyle, that he could only remember traces of his former ways of living. Soon, they were nothing but memories out of a fever dream, tucked away at the deepest crevices of his mind, never to be touched again.
To Gentaro, the life he lived was one he’d never want to give up. He’d keep on moving forward under his façade for as long as he lived, even if it killed him in the process.
That was, until he joined Fling Posse. Initially, he really did believe that the team would only last as a fling. But days became weeks, which became months, and when a year had passed, he began to see them as family, someone who he could be himself with. Thoughts of going back to his old self began coming back to him, and he genuinely considered doing so.
However, just when he’d begun to place a single shred of trust in his teammates, exposing himself as an imposter by denying his name as Gentaro Yumeno, his words were pushed aside like another lie of his, despite the evidently serious expression on his face. To add to that, learning who Ramuda was, and where his existence stemmed from, merely served to crush his trust into pieces, for anyone who worked under Chuuoku was sure to become his enemy, his pure hatred for the Central Ward fueling his emotions.
He wouldn’t ever forget every waking moment from that series of events which set off the trigger in his head, changing his view on reality, if he could even call it that. Nothing would bring him to place his trust in anyone ever again, the flicker of hope in his eyes put out as quickly as it sparked to life.
And at some point, after all that occurred, he stopped visiting his brother. The fear of facing his brother after all he’d done for himself, to get this far. He couldn’t bear to think of having to drop his act, to give everything up after working to get thus far. But when the news finally reached him, that his brother was finally awake…
He was utterly distraught. Despite the cheerful occasion, his feelings were anything but; the identity he’d taken so long to embrace and welcome into his life was surely compromised with the awakening of a single man, one who he once saw as his dear, beloved twin brother. As much as he loved him, he knew that there could be only one Gentaro Yumeno, and he refused to give up that name, whether the other party liked it or not. Unwilling to accept his fate, there was only one thing he could do, and with that, he departed from his house without a word to his teammates, although it wasn’t the first time he’d done that.
If Ramuda and Dice said that they weren’t concerned, that would be an obvious lie. The Gentaro they knew was never that distant, with emerald eyes as lifeless as glass marbles, the sound of his voice nearly absent from their everyday lives, save for the few rehearsals and meetups they organized. Of course, the novelist took the liberty to skip some of those, as well. With that, the two decided to trail closely behind, intrigued at what might’ve gotten their teammate in such a dispirited state.
Their answer could be found in the hospital not far from Gentaro’s house, only a mere fifteen minutes away. Of all places, it was a hospital, and Dice began to wonder if there was something wrong with his health. For Ramuda, he seemed unfazed at seeing where they landed themselves, leading the gambler to think that maybe, Ramuda knows something he doesn’t. But when he opens his mouth to speak, they watch as the novelist takes a single glance up to the bright sky before entering the building, a grim look plastered onto his features.
For Gentaro, the short journey to his destination felt almost suffocating—the elevator ride upstairs felt as if it took hours, and each hallway he traversed seemed like an endless corridor. It was life’s last attempt at holding him back, trying to talk him down from the horrific deed he’d planned out in his head overnight, imagined up out of his desperation and selfishness. Yet, the world he saw before him blinded him from the harsh reality of things, and continued to step forward, throwing all caution to the wind as he stepped past the door frame, his gaze meeting that of his brother’s.
The heavy beating in his chest irritated him to no end, his hand tightening around the cool metal of the object that rested in his grasp. One glance at his brother’s face, composed and relaxed, was enough to set him off, him knowing that deep inside, the man knew what he’s done, seeing him dressed in an all-too-familiar hakama, along with the way his hairstyle was altered. When a breathy chuckle left the other’s lips, Gentaro felt as if he was going to shatter into pieces, tired of putting himself back together time and time again.
In an instant, he shut the door to the room, pulling his weapon of choice from under the layers of clothing he wore, eyes filled with anger and resentment, but with the faintest hint of regret. His breathing became labored, the stress of it all driving him to the breaking point, with trembling hands and eyes wide open.
“You weren’t supposed to come back yet… I just wanted more time, you know?” Gentaro breathed out, with a shaky thumb hovering over the microphone’s switch. He took a few steps closer, slowly approaching the hospital bed where his brother laid. “I finally got people to accept me. Is that too much to ask for? Tell me, is it- ”
“G-Gentaro?”
A gruff voice, unmistakably Dice’s, called out to him, causing Gentaro to snap his head around, his harsh gaze meeting the gambler’s concerned expression. Immediately, the rage in his eyes intensified, him not knowing what to do anymore. It was obvious that he was there with the intent to harm, for it showed in the way he spoke, stood, and simply expressed himself. The aura that came from him was a suffocating one, creating a tense environment where he, Dice, and Ramuda stood, looking at one another with no idea of what would come next.
Gentaro withdrew his microphone, not before Dice ran up to him, giving him a good shake, either hand resting on the shoulders of the “novelist” who stood before him.
“Why? Why are ya’ doing this? This isn’t like you at all,” Dice asked, the tone in his voice filled with concern. A concern that no longer affected the broken being he cared for, long lost to his own selfishness and despair, forgetting what it felt like to care for someone else but himself.
The actor finally removed the mask he’d worn for so long, revealing his true colors, if that was a term that could even be used for someone as bland and dull as himself. His profound amiableness, lighthearted tone, kind heart—in an instant, it all came crumbling down, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of what used to be his former self. Like all plays and other theatrical productions, the show had to end at a certain point, and this was where he met his end.
Of course, he wouldn’t let that happen anytime soon.
At the point where a clenched fist met the jaw of the other, there was sure to be only one outcome, and Ramuda knew that, observant eyes witnessing the events unfurling before him. He watched as Gentaro and Dice had their little scuffle, only to be caught off guard as the brunette came out as the victor, nearly unscathed.
“At first, I really thought about telling you two about it, to alleviate some of the stress that’s been welling up inside of me. For a while, I slowly began to see you two as family, people who could accept me for who I truly am,” Gentaro began, his voice emotional, yet with an expression which remained furious and tense. He looked over at Ramuda, who remained untouched throughout the whole thing, and shifted his gaze elsewhere, looking almost as if he were staring into space. “But when I tried, it didn’t work, did it? You two played it off as some sort of bullshit, like always. Although… It’s obvious Ramuda already knew from the start.”
“..Feelings are so silly, aren’t they? Just forget about it and come home. We can talk this out without getting all angry, yeah~?” Ramuda, who’d been silent the entire time, could only decide to put on a relaxed demeanor, unable to find the right words to say that would calm the fire burning inside of Gentaro.
“Like you’re one to talk, number fourteen. ” Gentaro spat, eyes narrowed at the pink-haired man. He slowly pulled out his microphone once more, fist clenched around its base. “You ought to be more careful when calling others in my house.”
In a last-ditch attempt, he turned to face his brother and activated his microphone, only for it to be smacked out of his hands by none other than Dice. Fragile as it was, it fell to the floor, facing its demise as it got crushed under the heel of the gambler’s shoe.
Dreams of the foreseeable future, shattered. The mask keeping himself from falling apart, shattered. Everything he’d worked so hard for, shattered by the two people who he almost brought himself to trust, up until they denied him his chance at acceptance, just as the rest of the world had. Although he was accustomed to rejection all too well… With those two, it was a different story. And to him, that was the dangerous part, showing weakness towards those who he failed to understand, for they could easily turn against him at the last second—then in a matter of seconds, it’d be over for him.
Needless to say, he’d already reached the end of the line, pushing past Dice and Ramuda to take his leave, the gentle novelist they thought they knew replaced with a regular man, vulnerable and broken, filled with hatred for the world he lived in. Someone who wanted to live in the shoes of another, to escape from his monochrome life, only to lose his mind, forgetting who he lived for, where he stood in life, and why he even continued to exist.
Before taking his leave, he took one last glance at the three in the room—his brother, Dice, and Ramuda—only to say what none of them wanted to hear from him.
“Anyone foolish enough to affiliate themselves with Chuuoku isn’t worth another second of my time.”
Turning around, he failed to notice the dull green journal fall from within his garments, and proceeded to take his leave, letting the door slam behind him.
With that, he was gone from their lives, and all they could do was accept it and move on, even if they didn't want to.
But one day, they'd find the Gentaro they knew once more. They'd rescue him from the living hell he'd trapped himself in, and bring him back home, where he belonged.