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Miserable.
That was a word he’d use to describe himself often. Chuuoku used him over and over and over... he thought he’d at least be some value to them. But, no. No. He was nothing more than a mere dog. Being ordered around, kicked when he whined for his life. All he wanted was his life. But as it seems Chuuoku believes they can take his life just as quickly as they can give it to him. If it hadn’t been for his Posse, Ramuda would have been dead. He would have never seen his Posse again. Never seen the beautiful stars above the Shibuya night sky.
He’d never see him again, either.
Typical Ramuda... mourning the loss of someone who was alive, still. Typical Ramuda, staring at himself in his now-broken mirror (since he punched it after seeing himself today), thinking about how much he fucking loathed himself. Typical Ramuda, with his eyes red and puffy from crying, his lips chapped and even a little bloody. He then remembered the barcode on his neck.
Yeah. A fucking code. A number. Like he was some sort of product.
Ramuda hated it. He hated that mark more than he fucking hated himself. He started to tremble again, biting his lip, looking down at his bloodied knuckles, and— grabbing a piece of glass from the sink— he cut the back of his neck, where the mark was, without thinking much. Ouch. Ow, ow... that really hurt. He dropped the glass to the floor, hands shaking as he put one against the back of his neck. Yeah... that was a lot of blood. He started to panic a little.
After a few moments of frantic panic— he knew he needed help. He knew he needed the help of a professional. As much as it hurt him to do... he took out his phone, and with his hands still shaking, he texted Jakurai- ignoring their old messages.
Heyy, geezer, ehe ~ You free rn ? ☆
It was a little late for Jakurai to be receiving any texts. Occasionally Hifumi would text him around this time, but not often. He'd been sitting at his computer at home doing some work when he heard his phone go off, and he glanced at it out of the corner of his eye. A text from a number that he begrudgingly left in his contacts, even though he probably should have deleted it a long time ago. But...the fact that he was even getting this text in the first place...meant the other person in question didn't delete his, either. He picked up his phone and read the text, narrowing his eyes a little. Though he was alone, the expression on his face remained unreadable, as if there was anyone around to hide his semblance of emotion from. He stared at it for a few moments before putting his phone back down, directing his attention back to his work. It was probably a drunk text, or something like that. There was no way it'd be otherwise.
Typical. Of course Jakurai wouldn’t fucking respond. He’d let him down before, right? Obviously he’d do the same thing. Whatever. Ramuda would do it himself.
...That thought didn’t last long. The blood seemed to be endless, no matter how much pressure he applied to the wound, no matter what the fuck he’d do. Okay, okay. Take two. All he had to do was pour what little faith he had in his ex boyfriend. Ramuda cleaned the blood off of his fingers and, still trembling, picked his phone up again and called Jakurai this time. Fuck... fuck, please...
Jakurai's phone went off again. But this time, it appeared to be a call, not a text. He mulled over in his mind whether or not to answer the call, continuously letting it ring. He let it ring until the last one, before it would go to voicemail, and picked it up quickly without thinking about it any further. As soon as he answered, he already felt like he was going to regret it somehow.
"...Yes?"
”Heyyy, ehe,” Ramuda breathed.
Something was off- obvious in the way Ramuda spoke. His playful tone seemed more forced than usual. Like.. he was pained.
“I know you’d like. Rather do literally anything else than hear my voice again, and trust me, I feel the same!~” A lie. “Buttt~ I sorta did-did an oopsie daisy and I need the h-elp of a professional like you~ Soo~ If you would like urgently come over, that’d be super!~”
His voice was strained. Painful. Pitiful, even. He’d cough a few times in between words, and it was obvious that he tried to hide those coughs. Ramuda was quiet before softly speaking again,
“...Please.”
Jakurai felt his heart twist in his chest upon hearing that please in Ramuda's voice. That alone, meant something was wrong. He stayed quiet for a few moments, knowing better than to question what exactly was wrong. He knew he wouldn't get an actual answer. As much as he wanted to ask Ramuda what was wrong, ask him all sorts of questions, it would be useless.
"...Are you at home or your studio?"
”Home. You remember the address, don’t you?” Ramuda’s voice was hoarse. He allowed his act to drop, just a little bit. He was tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of begging for his life. Him and Jakurai weren’t on the best terms... but... he seemed to care. Jakurai would help him, right? That would be nice.
“Please, hurry...” And, in a quieter tone, almost a whimper, as if some sort of pain stung him at that second, “It... hurts..”
"I remember."
Jakurai replied, biting his lip. What was this feeling in his chest? It wrenched his heart, twisted it, made it feel like it didn't even belong in his chest. He knew something had to be horribly wrong for Ramuda to call him like this, sounding like this. Despite being unsure what exactly was happening, he got up from his chair while still on the phone, making a beeline to grab the emergency medical bag he kept on hand. He just knew, somehow.
"I'll be there in 20 minutes. Okay?"
He let out a breath of relief, allowing himself to slide down on the floor. He sat there, bloodied and fucked up, waiting for that doctor to show up.
“...Okay. Thank you...”
Now.. all he had to do was wait.
Like he'd said, Jakurai was there within 20 minutes, after he'd driven in silence the whole time. He parked in the usual spot he used to. Doing that alone was nostalgic, and the feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. Whether he was welcome to enter without knocking or not, he knocked lightly on the door before entering immediately after, closing it behind him gently. The main part of the house was dim, so Jakurai could assume Ramuda was perhaps in his room?
Just the smell of this house made memories flood back, but he forced them away in favor of the task at hand, whatever that was. He walked further into the house, bag still in hand.
"Ra--" He cleared his throat. "Amemura...?"
Ramuda perked up a little hearing that familiar voice that he was supposed to hate.
“Present!~” He weakly called from the bathroom. It... honestly looked like a crime scene in there. Broken glass from punching the mirror, blood on said mirror, blood in the sink along with some glass, and minimal blood on the floor, walls, and on Ramuda’s hands. The most blood was evident on his clothes, though. Regardless, he forced a weak smile. He was extremely pale, and still trembling a little.
“Ehe, wowww~ You sure did get here fast for an old man~ Didn’t—“ he harshly coughed, resulting in a wince, “-Didn’t run any red lights, didja?~”
Jakurai immediately went into the bathroom upon hearing Ramuda's clearly strained voice. His eyes widened when he saw the scene before him. The sheer panic he felt go through his body was nearly incomparable to any other panic he'd ever felt in his life. He didn't let it show on his face very much, though, trying to keep his expression looking more...calmly concerned.
"Wh...what happened?" He walked closer, afraid to even touch him.
Ramuda shrugged, “It’s a loooooong boring boring story~ Well, it ends with me getting totally upset and punching my mirror and cutting my neck, so, that’s the part you need to know!~”
He tried to keep his act up as much as possible. Ramuda didn’t have the energy to get up, so he simply scooted on the floor, turning around so his back was facing Jakurai. The cut was very evident. Self-inflicted.
“That’s my boo-boo~ It super duper hurts a lot, s-so... fix me up, would ya?~”
Jakurai bit his lip and knelt down on the floor behind Ramuda, putting the back next to the both of them. He opened it, pulling out some gauze to place on the wound, applying pressure. The gauze was soaked with blood rather quickly, as he expected. He pulled out more gauze, doing the same thing again, thinking.
"Take off your shirt. It's in the way."
Wow. He hadn’t heard that one in a while. He missed that one. Ramuda was going to comment on it and tease him, but decided against it. He was too tired. He just wanted this over with. So he listened, hesitantly letting his jacket fall from his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt before taking that off, too.
Jakurai’s hands on his skin... it reminded him of back then. Ramuda closed his eyes. He remembered a time where Jakurai would kiss his bare shoulders, touching every inch of his flushed skin, whispering into Ramuda’s ear about how beautiful he looked... his heart sank. Those times were gone. Stop thinking about it. The younger took a deep breath as Jakurai worked.
Jakurai took a bottle of rubbing alcohol out of his bag, opening it. He hesitated for a moment.
"This is going to sting." With that, he just dumped it all over the wound, in an attempt to sterilize it. He wiped more of the blood off the surface as he did so, trying to get as much out of the way as possible. It pained him to see Ramuda like this. It pained him terribly. Despite his calm demeanor, he was still panicking on the inside. He knew he could handle this just fine, but that didn't make it any less painful to look at or think about.
"...What did you do, Amemura?"
Ramuda hissed in pain, grabbing his pants, “Fuck!!” His act completely dropped with that one, biting his lip.
Ramuda knew Jakurai had to do that, so he wasn’t upset at him or anything... but it stung like a bitch.
“...Nothing, okay? I was just having a moment and acted on impulse.” He clutched the fabric of his pants a little harder, “Why would you care, anyway?”
"...I suppose you're not obligated to tell me, but I would still like to know."
Jakurai now removed more materials from his bag, preparing to suture the wound. There was no way this could just get covered with a simple bandage.
"If I didn't care, I wouldn't be here at all, would I? Tell me."
He stayed quiet for a moment. Jakurai had a point, but...
“Listen... it’s a long story, okay? I don’t wanna tell you everything now... You can’t even begin to understand how fucked my day was.” He spoke, “I guess... I can tell you now that people call me Chuuoku’s dog for a reason. They tried to put that dog down, failed, so the dog ran away and hurt itself while thinking if being alive was even fucking worth it.”
Jakurai began to stitch the wound up without warning Ramuda first, making sure to work as carefully as possible. It'd been a while since he took care of a wound like this, after all. He stayed silent for a little bit after listening to him talk. "...You clearly still want to be alive if you called me here."
”...” Ramuda stayed quiet. The stitching hurt... but it wasn’t as bad. The cut hurt much worse. He wanted to look over his shoulder to glance at the doctor, to see his face and admire his beauty... but he couldn’t. Ramuda bit his lip. Man... this was pathetic, huh?
“I... guess you’re right..” He paused. “Don’t let it get to your head, old geezer. I just don’t know anyone else willing to help me besides my Posse. And they don’t do medical stuffs.*
Jakurai continued to stitch up the wound, trying to ignore the scent of Ramuda's hair that still seemed to stick out, despite the heavy metallic scent of blood hanging in the air. He...still used the same shampoo, he could tell. It was only now that he realized he was close enough to see the tiny bit of dark hair growing in from Ramuda's roots. He couldn't help but wonder if he dyed it by himself nowadays, but he shook the thought away.
"...Right. Don't let it get to my head." Jakurai repeated, now almost done suturing up the wound.
"You know, how many times have you claimed to hate me? And yet here I am, helping you. In addition to that, you claim that I hate you, yet I've never said those words, have I?"
He took a deep breath. Jakurai’s voice, the things he was saying.... Ramuda felt at home. Such an odd feeling to feel towards someone you’re supposed to hate.
His words surprised him a little. Ramuda had genuinely assumed Jakurai had just hated him. Thought he was better off dead. Thought he was worthless to him. All Ramuda had done was cause him pain, after all. Sure, it wasn’t technically him that did it, but...
“I always thought you did.” He started, speaking honestly, voice low- almost a whisper. There was a different kind of pain in his voice this time. “With the way you looked at me that night and the things you said... it just seemed like.. you did.”
Jakurai finished tying off the end of the stitches, now looking for a bandage to place on top. “...You’re welcome to think what you wish. But I don’t hate you.”
He placed a bandage on top of the sutured wound, making sure it would stay in place. “I’ll help you clean up.”
He stayed quiet. Jakurai... didn’t hate him? There was this warm, blossoming feeling in his chest with those words. He remained quiet anyway, though.
When Jakurai said he would help clean, something in him did not want him to leave. He was exhausted... Ramuda turned around and let himself fall into Jakurai’s chest. “Just... five minutes, kay...?”
Jakurai was definitely caught off guard by this. He froze for a moment before wiping the blood off his hands on a nearby towel. He’d replace it if Ramuda wanted him to. Without a word, he brought up his hands to lightly stroke the smaller man’s hair, though he tried to avoid looking at him. He knew it’d make him feel too much.
“...Alright.”
Ramuda felt himself starting to tear up. So much has happened today. Too much. Slowly, he started to cry, clutching to Jakurai’s clothes. Feeling his hands stroke his hair... Ramuda felt safe. He hadn’t felt this feeling in such a long time. So many overwhelming feelings at much- his body started to shake with his sobs.
Ramuda missed this. He missed feeling safe. He missed Jakurai. “Th-thank you... thank you... thank you...”
“...Please don’t thank me. I just...couldn’t let anything happen to you.” Jakurai thought back on the scene he’d been forced to see when he was inexplicably called to a meeting with the prime minister and her assistant. Having to watch the light disappear from Ramuda’s eyes, in his arms. Sure, it was a clone, but...it looked like him. Enough for it to be painful and heart wrenching.
“...You’re tired.” He wasn’t brave enough. Not yet. He couldn’t talk to Ramuda about everything that had happened, how he felt, how difficult it was to choke back an ‘ I miss you’ , or an ‘ I don’t want to let you walk away from me anymore’ , ...but he held back. The fear of possible rejection was too much. He couldn’t take the heartbreak again.
Ramuda hugged Jakurai tighter, burying his face in his chest as his sobs got louder. It was okay. Jakurai’s seen him like this before. Only Jakurai.
Jakurai’s been there for him since the very beginning. He’s seen him cry, he’s seen him genuinely smile, he’s seen him.... when he had his first time. This man meant the world to him. It only made Ramuda cry harder once he realized Jakurai eventually had to leave. They weren’t dating anymore. That was in the past. Ramuda should have just moved on... right? So, for tonight- he’ll let himself be selfish. Forget everything that happened in the past and just cling to the one he was still so horribly in love with.
There was so much he wanted to say. ‘Stay with me’ , ‘ Please, don’t leave ’, ‘ I’m still in love with you ’ — but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say a word. It was almost like his mouth was sewn shut like his injury was.
Jakurai just sat there, letting Ramuda continue to cry. To be truthful, he really didn't know what else to do at this moment. So...he held still, letting Ramuda do what he needed to do. He couldn't take that away from him. Not after...he'd hurt him so much already.
"...You should get to bed, it's late...and you've...obviously had a long day..." He spoke quietly, not daring to let go of the smaller man in his arms.
”Stay,” He choked out, now looking up at him, “P-please.. just until I fall asleep...”
His voice was broken. Exhausted. Fucking pathetic . How desperate could Ramuda get? Begging for him like this? It was disgusting, but- Jakurai was like a drug. He’d quit that drug for two years, but... getting one taste of him again made him crave more. Ramuda was addicted.
Jakurai bit his lip, looking away. He just couldn't make eye contact with Ramuda. He couldn't. It hurt far too much, and he didn't want to get emotional. Not while Ramuda was clearly the one who needed someone else to be strong. He took a deep breath.
"...I work in the morning, but I'll stay as long as I can."
Here he was, giving in. Even if that was a bad idea, even if it was going to hurt him more than anything in the world...he gave in. This was...about Ramuda's feelings. Not his own. He could deal with his own later.
’
He can’t even look at me.
’ Ramuda thought, but— slowly backed away a little to rise to his feet. He was wobbly, and had to step over some glass and smeared blood- but he took Jakurai’s wrist, turned off the light and led him to his bed. Ramuda got himself tucked in, hugged his pillow, and hesitantly tapped the mattress so Jakurai would know where to sit.
He was still crying, but it was more like a soft, quiet weep by now. All he wanted was to see Jakurai until he fell asleep.
Jakurai sat down on the edge of the bed, not sure if he should say anything else at all. He looked around the room, observing his surroundings. Even though it was dark, he could still tell that everything was relatively the same since he'd last seen it. Ramuda even kept that same night light on, all this time. On a shelf across the room, there used to sit a couple of framed photos of the two of them, which were now replaced with photos of himself and his division. They must treat Ramuda well if he went out of his way to keep photos of them in his room. It relieved him to think that he had people to rely on.
He glanced over at Ramuda occasionally to check if he was asleep yet, though he was in no rush to leave. Yes, he did have work in the morning, but he knew by now that he wasn't going to get any sleep, no matter what time he got home. When he was sure that Ramuda was asleep, he got up again, and took the time to clean up the bathroom before leaving. Were the tears he held back from the bleach fumes, or from how he was feeling? He was so numb to just feeling at this point, he genuinely couldn't tell.
After doing as thorough of a job as possible of cleaning, he went to check on Ramuda one more time, staring at his sleeping figure for a few moments. Now that he was asleep, he could look at him for as long as he wanted. But, he tore himself away after a little bit, finally turning to leave. He made sure to lock the door behind him, to prevent himself from going back in even if he tried. He sat silently in his car for a couple minutes, with only the nearby street lights illuminating his surroundings. Before much longer, he just put his face in his hands and sobbed. He sobbed out everything he was holding back for those last several hours, seemingly unable to stop.
He managed to get himself to go home shortly after, holding back more tears the entire drive home.