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A lone man flicks his lighter open, the dancing flame reflecting off his red eyes. He gazes at it for a moment, thinking of a smile that rivaled the sun itself, then shakes his head. He didn't need that ruining his mood.
He lights his cigarette and immediately pockets the lighter, his fingers lingering for a split second before he realizes what he's doing.
He's feeling rather reminiscent today and he'd prefer not to be, honestly speaking. The days he spent with Sasara were long over, he didn't need to think about it — especially since it always ended up souring his mood.
Samatoki draws out a long, tired sigh, bringing the cig to his lips. Maybe a drink or two later would help.
Rounding the corner, he pays no mind to a comedy special playing on a displayed TV in the electronics store across the street, an irritated grimace on his face.
—
Crashing on his couch, Samatoki lets out a groan, head pounding. The cig did nothing to ease his busy mind, which meant he really was going to down a couple of drinks tonight. He runs a hand down his face, sighing again. If he could simply forget everything about that bastard, his life would be much easier.
Uneasy with the deafening silence, he switches the TV on, mindlessly flipping through the channels. He stops at a news station before he stands up, shaking his head again.
When he returns to the comfort of his couch, he changes the channel again, pausing in shock and nearly spilling his drink over himself.
That familiar smile he's been caught up on all day, the stupidly vibrant hair, the laughter—
The channel immediately switches, Samatoki grimacing again before downing his drink in one gulp.
He scowls, grip on his glass tightening as he suddenly recalls what Jakurai said to him during the division rap battle.
Sasara (and Kuukou, apparently) watched the battles. Why?
Ever since Jakurai told him that, Samatoki has been thinking about it. Was it for entertainment? Did he just want to see the guy he hated get his ass handed to him?
What a fucking headache this was.
Today was definitely not a good day.
He pours another drink.
—
Unable to bring himself to fight back, he can only watch as Sasara stares down at him with emotionless, dark eyes and an empty expression.
Were his eyes always that color, Samatoki wonders? Sasara frowns in distaste, silent for a beat.
Samatoki can't help but notice how tightly the man grips his mic, hands trembling as if he were nervous or the way his face flashes with something other than disdain.
But then Sasara begins walking away, silent, none of the usual pep in his steps. Samatoki can only watch in agony as the man he considered a true friend leaves him behind.
—
His eyes snap open as a faint buzzing sounds off in the room. Samatoki takes a moment to gather himself, groggily piecing together what happened.
He must've passed out and dreamed about that fateful day. What luck — he couldn't stop thinking about that bastard even when he was sleeping.
Ignoring the buzzing for a moment, he's more concerned with handling the onslaught of different emotions and recollecting his thoughts.
Kicking a beer can (he guesses he just grabbed whatever before he knocked out) out of his way, he instead pours himself a glass of ice cold water, sipping on it as he thinks.
The buzzing repeats itself, but he still pays no mind to it as he tries to settle down again.
In his dream, he noticed things he hadn't noticed beforehand — the way Sasara paused for a second, the way he shook as he spat words at him. Did all of the things he noticed actually happen, or was that simply part of his dream?
He frowns, clicking his tongue. He never realized how much influence that damn idiot had on him. Finishing the rest of his glass of water, he drags a hand down his face, shoulders sagging. Whatever. He really should forget about it, since he's got a better crew that he'd die for now. Speaking of...
He leaves his empty glass in the sink, searching for the source of the ruckus — his phone. It ends up being squeezed in-between the cushions, but he gets it eventually. Glancing at the caller ID before he answers, he raises a brow and heads to another room to grab a cig.
Jyuto.
"Do you know what fucking time it is, man?" He starts, an edge to his voice, his soured mood still not quite gone yet. Jyuto immediately sighs in response, muttering something to himself before he says, "Good morning to you too, Samatoki. It's about... Let's see... Oh, 6 in the morning."
Samatoki rolls his eyes, fishing through a drawer for his lighter and a cig. "Exactly. What's so important that you have to call this early?" Jyuto hums, no doubt thinking if he should deal with an irritable Samatoki at 6 A.M.
"I take it you didn't have a good night?" "Shut it. You need a favor or somethin'?" Jyuto hums again. "Listen, if you're just talking to talk, I'm hanging up and goin' to bed."
Jyuto finally decides to answer, a serious tone in his voice. "Alright, just don't start yelling. My ears don't need that right now." Samatoki huffs, finally lighting a much needed cigarette. "Fine, whatever, just hurry up."
Jyuto pauses for a minute before relaying information he recently picked up. "A few days ago, Yamada Ichiro was spotted in Osaka, heading to the spot Nurude Sasara was doing a show at—" Samatoki immediately freezes, eyes widening before narrowing. "What?" "— Ahem. He apparently had a pass to go backstage, spoke to Nurude, and left. Him and his brothers were also asking around about Nemu's whereabouts beforehand—"
Samatoki grit his teeth, scowling. "Who the fuck does that bastard think he is? He knows exactly what happened to her! And—" Jyuto silences him, a hint of irritation in his tone. "I'm not finished yet, please wait until I'm done if you want to talk."
He grunts, angrily bringing his cigarette to his lips to soothe his nerves. "Go on, then." "Thank you. Besides that, and I don't have any idea if this is even remotely true, but..." "What?"
Jyuto sighs again and Samatoki thinks he hears paper flipping before the policeman resumes speaking.
"Apparently Nurude received a request from Chuuoku themselves to join the next division rap battle."
Samatoki's eyes widen yet again, disbelief all across his face. That couldn't be. He wasn't...
"That sounds like complete bullshit! Don't fucking mess with me, asshole!" He shouts, another flood of emotions engulfing him as he puts his cig out. Jyuto immediately rebukes the idea that he was joking, confirming that he's serious.
Samatoki feels like he took several punches in the gut. That info must've been fake. There's no way Sasara would think about coming back to something like this, considering he was doing just fine on TV. There's no way Chuuoku would...
Jyuto's voice cuts his thoughts off, using a softer tone than before. "Again, I don't know if that's true or not. I'll look into it, but... If it ends up being some kind of lie, I'll send them your way. Or... something like that."
Samatoki leans against the wall, mind racing, but he manages to at least spit a response out. "Yeah... Yeah, alright. I'll kick their fucking asses." Jyuto seems a bit relieved when he speaks again, reiterating that he'll look into it for him. The policeman hangs up soon after, leaving Samatoki alone with his thoughts once more.
He was probably the world's unluckiest bastard. Hangover finally hitting him, Samatoki collapses onto his bed, forcing himself to sleep. He truly didn't want to think about anything at the moment, wishing for nothing but the comfort of sleep to ignore everything else.
The man shuts his eyes, merely wishing for mind-numbing nothingness.
—
"Y'know," a painfully memorable voice starts, "I was pretty popular as a comedian. I won an award and everything with— ah, well... I got a lot of recognition!"
Samatoki eases into the couch, feet on the table before him as he somewhat listens to his partner-in-crime's story. "Really? Never would've thought."
Sasara loosens his tie, grinning cheekily. "Of course you wouldn't know! I don't expect you to be as caught up with the times as I am, geezer."
Samatoki narrows his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "You're a year older than me, idiot," he huffs, "and I don't care about what's trending."
Sasara takes a second to glance at him and his outfit, then shrugs. "Obviously."
He immediately starts cracking up when Samatoki makes a grab for him, apologizing through his laughter. "Sorry, sorry, you look fine!"
Samatoki backs off, crossing his arms as he rolls his eyes. "At least I don't look like the perfect target for muggers," he bites, smirking when Sasara's smile falls off his lips.
"Hey, that was just one time! They came outta nowhere!"
Samatoki laughs, time marching on as they light-heartedly bicker back and forth.
—
He wakes up alone, the muffled voices from the television the only ones keeping him company.