Archive of Our Own

“Hifumi, I’m moving out.”

When he says it, they’re standing in the living room. Doppo’s turquoise eyes on Hifumi, staring in a way that could’ve been accusatory if it wasn’t him.

It’s hard to break the silence of the fallout, all Hifumi can consciously do is withdraw — In comes an unknown feeling, an unique flavor of pain, slowly eating away at his chest. 

“Why?” Is all Hifumi manages to ask. Voice brittle as the snowflakes falling outside, you could see them through the closed window despite the fogging from the cold. “Why do you wanna move?”

Doppo looks down. His expression is slightly gloomy, still gentle as he’s always been, but there’s none of that usual jittering, none of the regret or the hesitation. He stands still while Hifumi thinks he might crumble and fall apart. 

“Hifumi, listen, we’re best friends, and nothing can change that, but,” He starts. His voice is so calm. “You know how much I hated my job, and how I used to be so worried about quitting, but… now that I have a new offer, I have to take it. But it’s far away, so, I...”

Hifumi knew all about the past job’s issues, from all those nights when Doppo came home with agonizing migraines and complaints spilling like blood from his mouth. He’s had the same job since he graduated, that would make it around 7 years and some now. Hifumi kept telling him to look for a new one — He did, it just seemed he never got lucky enough to get hired.

Until now, it seems.

He’s told him to try a lot of new things. New hobbies, new ways of getting help. He introduced him to Jakurai, who was first his doctor, then their close friend. He cheered for him on everything since what felt like the beginning of the universe. He was so happy when, after the DRB, Doppo seemed to begin to truly get better.

He’s loved every smile and laugh that came after that, but he’s also loved the angry outbursts of him finally standing up for himself, and he loved the veiled pride on his eyes when he got recognized in the streets, the determination he shared during division meetings, the focused look as he did his calculations, thinking of what to do with the prize money. He loved him, he always did, that wasn’t a secret and he didn’t want that to be one.

“B-But, Doppo.” He stutters, that pain grows the slightest bit after each passing second, he doesn’t know how long it’d be until it ate him alive.

“I’ll be okay.” Doppo responds. “You’ll be okay too. We’ll still be Matenrou, right?”

He doesn’t even know what to ask. Are you going to be okay without me? He clearly was, after ridding himself from what held him back the most, Doppo could finally flourish. Aren’t you gonna be lonely? Maybe, but he’s made friends with other people, too, he’s really brightened up since the victory. When did you get this offer? Why didn’t you tell me? Why aren’t you asking me to come with you? Are things gonna change between us? Are you gonna forget about me?

The questions just keep spinning inside his head, and the dizzying confusion is yet another sort of pain that falls upon him in the moment. He doesn’t even know why this hurts so much, he had been expecting and hoping for Doppo to get better and cut some of the many ties of codependency that kept them together. He loves Doppo, of course he’d want that for him, but… 

“Doppo,” He starts again. He’s not sure how, the air itself feels still around him. Frozen, by cold and by force. “I’m… I’m happy for you. That you can move on.”

Doppo’s soulful eyes meet his, his heart tearing slowly. He knows moving out doesn’t mean they’ll stop talking, and he’s not upset that Doppo is becoming happier, not at all. Once again, he’s anticipated that, it’s just that...

He speaks, explaining some of the conditions of his moving out. A late night train ride, a new roommate, with hopes of eventually being able to live by himself. It’s some manager position somewhere in Kanagawa. Hifumi’s not paying attention. Doppo’s eyes glitter slightly as he speaks, he just doesn’t understand why he can’t share the sentiment. Why despite all the good things, he’s so fixated on the distance, the fact that he wouldn’t see Doppo everyday anymore. 

He finds himself replaying the past in his head, looking for an answer as to why this made him feel like that.

.    .    .

The blue-tinted late night darkness washes out the room like a sort of photo filter.

Hifumi has his eyes wide open, body tucked under the warm blanket, but arms resting on top of it, feeling the cool air against him despite the barrier of his shirt, the closed window. The cold of early spring seemed to always know how to find its way into his bedroom, no matter how much he locked up.

But he doesn’t feel cold. He turns, feeling his body slide against the warm mattress, thoughts slowly turning liquid, slowing down. Comfy, he thinks, nuzzling against the pillow. He doesn’t quite want to sleep yet, but he’s laid down a while ago now. He wasn’t meant to be up for too late, even if it was a Saturday night. He didn’t want to wake up with dark circles tomorrow or anything like that.

His eyes travel around his own bedroom. The blinds over the window, assorted posters on the walls, remaining toys and plushies — He hasn’t had the heart to throw them away yet, it stings a little because he’s 12, not some baby, but when Hifumi picks them up with the intent of taking them away from his field of vision, his heart squeezes. 

He eyes at the small reddish brown bear on his desk almost suspiciously. She seems to eye back with the two inky black buttons that adorned her face, like she challenged him to grow up. Well, he hasn’t been very good with that lately.

But that’s a thought Hifumi doesn’t like thinking about, especially when he’s told to leave it be.

So he lets his eyes trail off the bear, cruising around the room. The mat, the slippers by the bed, the nightstand. On the nightstand now — A magazine, a half-full glass of water, phones, the alarm clock.

A digital clock, black screen, red numbers, metal rimmed. Quite classy if he said so himself, he had his phone’s alarms but having the clock there just had this sort of unique feeling. The numbers, in their blocky font and warning tones, spell out 11:59 P.M, until they don’t.

It strikes midnight, so quietly like digital clocks tended to do. Unnoticed. But he saw it, so there’s no use pretending he wasn’t having trouble sleeping, so he turns again, laying on his other side.

“Doppochin.”

The boy by his side has his back turned to him even then. Is he sleeping? Hifumi places a hand over his back, pushing slightly.

“Doppochin.” He calls again, only a little louder. Doppo stirs, the covers and mattress make a rustling noise as he does. “Are you sleeping?”

“Nn, I was.” He mumbles, then turns to lay on his back, sighing. “What’s wrong?” He looks straight at Hifumi with his droopy eyes, messy red hair splayed against his pale face. 

“Can’t sleep.” Hifumi says, shrugging. The other boy spares him a drowsy stare, but he can tell there’s some concern in it. It’s warm, it adds to what felt like trapped air around them, the bubble that shielded them from the world in moments like these. “Can we talk a little?”

Doppo makes a noncommittal noise, he’s still slowly waking up. Hifumi feels bad from stealing his resting time, but if Doppo stayed over tomorrow too, he could sleep in, and wouldn’t have to study, which he thinks makes up for it. “About what?”

“Dunno.” Hifumi shrugs. “How’s your school been?”

It was a question that often spun around in Hifumi’s head. They met at elementary at the one Doppo currently attends, but now it was 7th grade, and after years of agony, Hifumi had to be transferred to the nearest all-boys school.

There’s a pause. Doppo turns a little so he’s facing Hifumi, who smiles at the gesture. It’s nice when they can look at each other. If it was anyone else, Hifumi might’ve felt cornered, but it was Doppo. That was okay. 

“Boring.” Doppo replies, shifting so he’s more comfortable. He feels their arms press together, a summing up of warmth. “Asano still sucks and I think the teachers still don’t like me.”

“The teachers suck too. More than Asano.” Hifumi speaks decisively. “None of the stuff they say is true. You’re not forgetting that, right, Doppochin?”

“...trying not to.” He admits. Hifumi’s expression drops just a bit, but he makes the effort to not let the smile leave him. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “But I think they get angrier now that you’re not here and I, well… just kinda stand out, by myself. Not in the good way.”

“You gotta start talking to our classmates, Doppochin. Some of them are nice.” 

With his body still on its side, Doppo rolls the back of his head onto the pillow. “I don’t like to do it when you’re not here.”

He wilts a little, head peeking under the blanket. “I know. But still, y’should try or something.” Hifumi speaks. “Maybe you’ll even get a girlfriend. I think you could do it, you can be pretty cool.”

“No way.” He says, but there’s no bite to it, he’s just pouty. Hifumi hopes he at least believes his words are sincere, even if he couldn’t believe what they said. “I don’t like anyone anyways. And nobody likes me.”

“I like you.” Hifumi proclaims, and Doppo rolls his eyes. He can’t see him doing it, but he knows he does.

“You know what I mean,” He murmurs. “Girls don’t like me.”

“Doesn’t mean they never will though. You’re such a catch, Doppochin.”

Doppo groans, turning his back to him — he feels the mattress’ dip, the blanket’s pull. “That’s it, I’m gonna sleep.”

“Doppo!” Hifumi whines. “C’mon, keep me company just a little more.”

“You’re just gonna say a bunch of stupid stuff.”

“I’m telling you though, it can totally happen.” He insists. “Even if it’s not now, maybe in high school. I think you could find a pretty girlfriend and maybe even a part time job. And I could get them too!”

“Then you’ll find better stuff to do than hang out with me.”

“That’s dumb. I totally won’t, I know that.” Again, Hifumi insists, pushing. “You’re my best friend, stupid, I won’t just get bored of you. Ever. We can have double dates and everything.”

“Mmh, you’re too optimistic.” Doppo turns again, once more on his back. Hifumi wants to see his face, he tries to stretch and catch a glimpse. He imagines he’s smiling, he wants him to be smiling. “Can we sleep now?”

“Yeah, yeah, since you want to so bad.” He replies, but his thoughts too begin to feel syrupy. “But you promise you’re gonna do your best, right? I know it sucks now but we’ll totally be doing better by high school. It’s gonna be so much fun.”

“Maybe.” Doppo admits. That’s a smile now, Hifumi is so sure. “High school sounds nice.”

“Let’s do our best, then.” 

They’re closer like this, even though they barely moved, the dreamy glow of the outdoors cast on them. Time stands still so beautifully, a peaceful break between the exciting future and the past to overcome.

Their hands are close on the mattress, fingers touching. Doppo’s soft snoring begins to echoe soon, Hifumi smiles to himself, feeling a gooey warm feeling spreading on his chest, something that if it had a taste, would be sort of like honey, maybe homemade jam.

He doesn’t know much of anything yet, but he lets his hand rest over Doppo’s and squeeze gently. The feeling grows. It sounds like it could be security, comfort, all those words like sort of feel like tea that was just brewed. 

His eyes flutter shut, the faint glow of the room drowns in the darkness. He still glows inside. It’s a shade of orange or red or even pink, maybe a peach, it casts a hue upon his half-full glass of water, drowns out the warning crimson of his alarm clock.

.    .    .

The summer after high school, just a little after his 18th birthday, there’s a sea of lights all around Hifumi.

They’re countless unstable hues, flashing every now and then, followed by the thrumming noise of music that was almost the house’s heartbeat. He sits down, dazed, filled with a languid feeling, like he’s liquid about to spill — Oh, right, Hifumi recalls the cup in his hands, I’m definitely drunk.

There are voices around, chattering, flirting, yelling. Girls are there, too, but the world spins so quickly it’s like his brain doesn’t register them, like he’s watching for a faraway place where he couldn’t be hurt. The nausea and lack of focus are a small price to pay for it, even if it’s nigh unbearable in the suffocating heat of this house’s crowded hallway, between so many unknown bodies.

Yeah, how had he gotten there? A friend of a friend of a friend told somebody about a party and it crawled around this web of conversations until it reached Hifumi. He thought it’d be fun. Going to an all-boys high school, he sort of didn’t consider that there would be so many girls there — It’d been unbearable at first, but the alcohol made it easier. It helped more than most things that were meant to do so.

Well, anyway, where’s Doppo?

Hifumi looks around, trying to make out shapes despite his blurry sight, his half-closed eyes. He knows he’d brought him, but at some point they separated? He can’t really remember which. He can’t remember much of everything, actually, how long had he spent here?

I have to find Doppo, it’s his priority, and also his first coherent thought as he seemingly regains consciousness after hours lost to drowning his own guts in mixed drinks. He can sort of taste something fruity on his tongue. He gets up from the floor, where he had been sitting, and almost regrets it when he feels himself sway, stomach twisting with the motion.

I have to find Doppo.

Where is his phone, too? Patting around himself, he just can’t seem to find it in his pockets. He pushes past bodies. Are these girls trying to talk to him? He can’t even make out the lyrics of the music playing. He’s not talking to any of them right now.

Geez, where did he go?

Hifumi reaches the living room — Finally, thank god. It’s louder than the crummy hallways he’s slinked his way past, and brighter, and fuller. He still has the cup in hand. The crowding is enough to make even him nervous. He downs it.

He wobbles around for a bit, feeling like he’s walking across mud or water or even clouds, like none of it was happening at all. He watches his own body brace itself against the dining table where most of the alcohol was located, cheerful people circling around it. Head turns left, right, upwards. No sign of Doppo, like he had just disappeared…

It’s the same drowsy mixed-up party scenario as the previous places he’d made his way through — Until, out of the blue, there’s this shatter, a blasting impact noise of something torn to pieces. 

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”

The blurs reshape themselves, fuck, that’s Doppo’s voice Hifumi thinks maybe he instantly goes sober at that moment. — He doesn’t even think about following the source, or about how the sound drains around him for a bit, conversations dying with a single yell. He instinctively ran to the kitchen, where he now knew Doppo was at, pushing bodies left and right, moving as fast as his clumsy legs could take him.

“Doppochin?”

The cry leaves him instantly, the second his shoes meet the granite floor. Doppo’s head whips towards him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen. Messy haired, red-faced, sweaty Doppo, his black t-shirt plastered to his body. His eyes hit him, then quickly follows to the two men in front of him — Clearly older, stronger, taller, spilled drinks on a shirt and murderous glares.

Time stops so abruptly.

“Run!”

Looking back on it Hifumi might wonder if Doppo even thought about the action, or if it was just as instinctive for the redhead as it was for him, because there is no consideration of consequence going through Hifumi’s head when he grabs Doppo’s arm and pulls, urging him to rush, and they do.

The adrenaline kicks in so fast, too fast even. He can’t feel the pounding of his heart nor the breath leaving his lungs, he just runs, hand squeezing Doppo’s wrist for dear life. And in come those bothersome bodies — Again, he pushes everyone aside, maybe even with vague vitriol this time.

They cut through the sea, storm out of the front door. The steps out of the house are just as hurried, the two of them hurrying amidst the darkness with no real aim but some sort of survival impulse, running and running and running until there’s no more music to hear, until the darkness envelops them so tightly that the lack of breath is finally registered. That’s when they stop.

Panting and coughing, in the middle of an unknown neighborhood with nothing to keep them company but the crickets, the stuffy air, the aches and pains from the rush.

And each other.

“Doppochin,” He repeats, so high on adrenaline the drunken numbness is still inexistent. “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Doppo slurs loudly, still working on catching his breath. “I was gettin’ myself a drink and that asshole bumped on me and spilled his shitty beer all over himself and then tried to threaten me about it. It’s his fault.”

“Geez, Doppo…” Hifumi says, mostly to himself, and it’s not really exasperation but it sounds like. He doesn’t know if he’s just glad they’re okay. “They looked like they were gonna kill you so hard.”

“Dude’s a pussy if he wants me dead over spilled beer.” Doppo grumbles, and that’s what makes Hifumi laugh again, for the first time after the minute-long despair they had just experienced.

“You’re drunk.” He accuses, pointer finger on his chest, grinning wide. Doppo huffs. It’s too dark to see it, but Hifumi knows his face is the color of his hair right now.

“And you’re sober?”

Hifumi just laughs. He can’t stop laughing. His hands find Doppo’s shoulders, and they’re allowed there so easily, something about just that makes the sun rise inside his chest. At the same time that it grounds him, it also takes him higher.

“Doppochin,” He sings. “Y’know, that was kinda awesome.”

Doppo is staring at him, the swaying fool, annoyed but not really, it’s more like mock-annoyance, really. A little pout on his face suits him.

“Yeah, okay.” He finally agrees, snickering quietly to himself. “It was… it was kinda cool.”

“It was so cool!” Hifumi cheers. “Doppochin, we’re so cool. We can do anythin’, can’t you see?”

He’s still swaying, braced against him, maybe that’s what prompts Doppo to put his steady hands somewhere around his torso, even through the fabric of the shirt he could feel the pressure against himself. The crickets grow quieter at that, the neighborhood closes itself in silence.

“You’re drunker than me, Hifumi…” Doppo points out, but he still sort of holds him. “C’mon, we should go home or something. I don’t...don’t know where we are, though. Or what time it is. Ugh, mom’s gonna be pissed.”

Hifumi’s smile dies a little. Doppo’s family, right. The mention of them always prickles at him a little bit. They weren’t the worst, Doppo insisted on saying, but he’s seen things when they were younger.

And even when they were growing older, he knew there was no way Doppo’s bad habits had just grown out of nowhere. Things like that didn’t just appear, Hifumi should be aware of that better than anyone. 

“Doppo,” It’s a slip of the tongue when he starts, his usually lacking impulse control now lacking even more. “Doppo, run away with me.”

The crickets. The wind. A faraway clap of thunder. Nothing is more deafening than Doppo’s silence and blank, shocked expression upon the proposal.

“Hifumi, we don’t… have anything.” He mutters. “We’re stupid and young and poor. That could never work. And we also, we have…”

He’s struggling to explain, Hifumi isn’t sure of what he wants to say, but he just shakes his head, shushing him before he can say it.

“Don’t care. I’ll do my best to make you happy.” He babbles, it starts as just another promise of loyalty, but Hifumi feels this sort of compulsion build up inside him, this reminding of their freedom and capacity and how they could actually do something about their situation, and it begins to spill out. “Do you wanna stay here, Doppo? I’ll stay with you if you do, but, y’know… I think it might be better if we leave, we could find a lot of better stuff to do, you know we can do it. And if it happens I’ll really do everything I can to make you happy, ‘cause that’s what matters to me the most.”

He doesn’t get why he feels like crying. He can’t put a name to it.

“Hifumi…”

They stare into each other’s eyes. Crickets, wind, thunder. A gap in the fabric of time, an inexistent encounter. A world that doesn’t exist past their field of vision.

“It’s always been us against the world, Doppochin. We can make the best of that.”

I’ll make the best of that, for you.

Neither of their families get calls that night, even if it wasn’t then that they escaped.

.    .    .

But it’s funny how, despite the image he keeps up for his job, Hifumi can’t convince himself that any of his surroundings are romantic. There’s nothing beautiful about Kabukicho, not in any context, any day, any season. Not in this gray, grimy Autumn they had been stuck in this year.

You could find something in the neon if you tried really hard, but if you lived there, breathed there, worked there, it just gets grating, like staring at a computer screen for too long.

Tonight, Hifumi kicks Club Fragrance’s backdoor open and staggers outside, once again dizzy and ill and so drained he can feel the exhaustion sucking the calcium from his bones.

He’s been at the club for a year or so now, and yet already feels like he’s 24 going on 40.

He’s so lucky the apartment isn’t far away from the club, the second he gets that jacket off it’s all so confusing, he feels like he’s woken up from the most restless dreams a human being could possibly have. 

Every night, Hifumi leaves the house, watches his body do things, wakes up and takes in the tiredness it has collected, goes home, and has to wash what’s like a slimy sensation he feels all over his skin everytime the shift is over, the marks of hands on his body.

But, he thinks, tries to think, it’s worth it. It’s all worth it, if I get to see Doppochin smile.

That was… much rarer these days. But he still did his best, and he knew that if he put just the right amount of effort, wrote the right note and cooked the right meal, Doppo would smile. Sometimes he didn’t get to see it, because at times, he’d be asleep while Doppo left for work, and working while he got home, but he knew it in his heart.

And that’s enough for me, he tells himself very vehemently.

The apartment building soon enters his field of vision, and Hifumi feels the first real emotion of the night, that being relief.

Up the elevator and across the hallway he goes.

“Doppochin?” He calls, the second he gets home and opens the door. Effort goes into fixing the lack of energy away in his voice, pushed by the greater necessity of staying positive. “I’m home!”

He sings, but no voices answer for him. The lights are on, so he was likely still awake. Maybe he fell asleep with the lights on, though? Or had just gotten there?

He carefully takes his shoes off at the entrance, becoming increasingly bothered by the buildup of sweat and perfume and metaphorical and real grime on his body, but not paying it any mind for now.

“Doppo?”

His voice is quieter this time. Maybe he really was sleeping. Hifumi walks quietly, the socks kill the sound his footsteps should make. They fall onto the wood as gently as the leaves fall from trees.

He walks across the kitchen, the living room, and there’s no sign of him. Just that cemetery-like silence. Hifumi grows uneasy.

There’s a shuddering breath — He doesn’t know if it’s real or if he just senses it, because realistically that would be too quiet for him to hear, especially since it came from one of the inner rooms.

Doppo’s room.

He walks as quickly as he can, but still opening the door carefully, and he—

“H-Hifumi!” Doppo yelps. Hifumi’s heart drops. “You’re… you’re home early.”

Hifumi had overtime tonight. He’s not.

Again, not that this mattered, not in this context. Because now Doppo sits on the floor, computer in front of him, papers scattered around, eyes bloodshot and face puffy with crying and just everything wrong, Hifumi could see it down to the raw skin near his fingernails.

“What happened?” He asks, voice frail to suit his distress. Doppo was stressed often, sure, but he never…

He never cries, Hifumi reaches well back into their memories and still can’t find as many crying Doppos as he found himself doing the same thing. Doppo doesn’t cry easily, he panics and he might even snap, but he doesn’t cry. 

“I-It’s nothing, I just,” He stutters, quickly wiping the tears off with his sweater sleeves — The gray darkened around the damp

spots from previously wiped ones — like he could just cover up his tracks and Hifumi wouldn’t notice at all. “I w-was looking into our finances and stuff, and I thought I saw something that I actually didn’t, and I f-freaked out, and…”

“Doppo,” He repeats, and sits by his side, right next to him. “It’s okay, I’m here.

“I d-don’t know why my brain just played a trick on me, aha…” The laugh is forced out, drowned in another row of uneven, choked breaths. “I don’t know, I t-thought we were in debt for a second, and I thought it was my fault, so I just spiraled…I’m sorry, I really am...”

He hiccups, sleeve coming up to his eyes again. Hifumi has his hand hovering, unsure of what to do, and all that goes through his head is how do I make this better, tossing his own built up emotions away, the stressful night long forgotten.

“What are you apologizing for, silly…” Hifumi mutters, and the hand that reached out delicately pries Doppo’s arm off his face, wiping tears away with his own thumb as he always did when that happened. “You just got startled, it’s okay. We’re all good. And even if we weren’t, I’d never be mad at you, Doppo…”

“B-But it’d definitely be my fault.” Doppo goes on, and through the hand on his cheek, Hifumi feels him tremble. “Because I don’t make a lot of money. And then I’d… I’d just be a burden to you. I…”

Hifumi gets the urge to cry, too. He just wraps his arms around Doppo instead, ignoring the mess in the room, the wet spots on his shirt, the perfume and miasma and the backstage issues of Fragrance and his headache and—

He holds Doppo. That’s all he does.

“Sorry I’m such a mess.” Doppo says against his shoulder as he clings, and Hifumi doesn’t cling back, but he lets him do it. He lets Doppo brace himself against him. It’s all that matters.

“You never have to apologize to me, Doppo, I love you as you are.” He speaks, hand smoothing down his back, petting the cheap fabric of his sweater. He’d have to buy him some new ones now that it was getting cold again. “I know I joke a lot and stuff, but I mean it. Doppochin, you’re the most important person to me. You’ll never be a burden. Maybe anyone else could be, but...not you.”

Doppo’s crying stops slowly, it drains out of his body like Hifumi is the healing force he tries so hard to be. He counts every changed breath, every slightly weaker shiver against him, from a hundred to zero with the patience of a saint.

“I still feel like a burden all the time, though.” Doppo murmurs. “You’re my only friend, I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t… give back all that you’ve given me.”

I don’t want you to, he’s saying internally. On the outside, he just hugs tighter, he hopes the message gets through. For some reason it could never leave his lips, as much as everything else flowed so easily.

It’s been like that for a while, he still doesn’t understand why.

“You don’t have to.” ...is the next best thing. “Doppochin, when I say I’ll be with you forever I mean it. I’ll help you for as long as I can, I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines and I’ll only rest when you’re happy too. That’s what friends are for.”

These are words he’s said before.

Doppo releases a final breath against his chest, warm as his tense posture slowly melts away, relaxing. “Thank you, Hifumi.” He speaks. “I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“I don’t know what I’d be without you.” Hifumi retorts as they part from the hug, looking into each other’s eyes. Doppo’s warmth feels like it leaves a mark on him. He looks like a mess, sweat on his bangs and dried tears all over his cheeks. Hifumi finds that doesn’t bother him, and that’s not a lie. He smiles at him like he smiles at the sun, even if there’s no correlation between the two.

“Thank you.” He says again. “I, uh… I think I should shower now, or something.”

“Yeah, do that. You want anything to eat? I’ll make it for you!”

Doppo half-smiles, shaking his head as he gets up. “I-It’s okay. Thank you.”

The door isn’t closed when he leaves.

Hifumi wants to keep up his smile — He doesn’t have a reason not to, after all. This is what he’s always wanted to do, yeah? Support Doppo with all his might. It’s always been his thing.

It falls when Doppo’s out of sight, and he can’t put himself back together. The exhaustion seeps back into his body, the physical pains return, the dizziness returns, and it adds on to a pain not unknown to him, a pressure straight on his heart every time he breathes.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not quite physical, that he can tell. It’s a flavor of sadness that he didn’t have a name for, a dull ache of a pressed bruise.

But he’s happy to be there, he’s happy to do this, there’s no reason for him to feel like that.

The perfume on his collar mixes with the scent of stale coffee, it melts in the liquidy consistency of nighttime.

.    .    .

“Hifumi?”

The voice calling for him is the only thing that drags him back to reality. Hifumi blinks, and it all comes back to him steadily — the air he breathes, the images he sees, the noises he hears.

It’s poorly lit and mostly empty around. Hifumi often took the last trains in the schedule so it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, the vacant station, the soft echoing of his footsteps and ghostlike, faraway sound of the train’s movements. He breathes out, it leaves out as a white puff of air in the winter’s coldness.

His suit is at home, he’s still in that dress shirt with his collar open, cold touching the exposed skin. He’s shivering and numb-headed and tired. It was supposed to be a day off, he’s taken it so he could bring Doppo to the station tonight, the planned time. He’d be out of Tokyo shortly.

Hifumi feels like the reality and him aren’t completely bound together, though. Maybe he’s hanging by a thread before he falls into its abyss, because he stares at Doppo now — out of his old workwear, still in a plain dress shirt and pants, but geared up with his earthy-toned jacket and scarf, red hair peeking from under the layers of plain colors — and it doesn’t feel like how it should feel, there’s none of that sensation that the last grains of sand were slipping down the hourglass. 

“I’m here.” He responds, but even he isn’t very sure of it. 

It might as well just be denial.

Doppo offers a gentle smile that makes him ache, the train’s noises continue in the same intensity, still far off. Doppo’s luggage is on the ground next to him, just a couple suitcases. He’s always been the type to travel light.

“The train is almost arriving.” Doppo then comments, eyes on the rails. Still smiling, soft yet bright, turquoise eyes glazed with hope. “I, aha… never thought I’d get there.”

Hifumi’s heart rushes further, he feels his stomach tie itself into knots, that tearing pain from earlier today had grown, he tries his best to ignore it. The awareness of the world begins to return. Doppo is so happy, he should be happy. He wants to be happy.

But he’s coming back into reality at a steady pace, the seconds are being so ruthless and he doesn’t even know why.

“I’m really proud of you, Doppo.” He gushes, and it’s true, but smiling hurts too, and his heart still wants to slash him into pieces. “I’m sure you’ll do so well there.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” Doppo turns his eyes to him, so tranquil, it’s agony. Hifumi’s hand shakes. There’s this sort of hole in his chest, a craving that the ache is converted into when Doppo says it to him. He doesn’t understand.

Wasn’t Doppo’s happiness his happiness, too? Wasn’t he the caretaker, the one who would gladly follow him around as his shadow?

“Y’know, I’m not good with words, b-but, I…” Doppo mumbles, shyly looking at the ground. Hifumi finds it hard to stay in place with the shaking, it becomes a sort of impulse to reach out — and then do what? “I wanted to tell you something before I leave, something I’ve been keeping from you for a while. It wouldn’t be fair to just take it with me.”

He can hear the metallic grinding, wheels hammering down on the rails. The grains of sand slipping away, he’s running out of time. 

But time for what, when this was meant to be his goal? He’s rushing to find his answers, to understand where’s gone wrong, drawing a blank then another and nothing makes sense anymore, not when the thing he thought would bring him peace is tearing him to pieces — But then, his shaky hands are held so delicately.

“Hifumi, you’re my favorite person in this world.” Doppo speaks, and it’s a disaster, it aches like the stab of a knife, like the times his life was on the line but the person in front of him came up to save him. It’s all the unexplainable pains he’s felt since so long, summed up, reimagined. “I d-don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but in a way I feel like we were always meant to meet, y’know? I’m not making much sense, and I’m sorry about that, but… it’s just that you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever known. You’re like my sun. You make me feel safe.”

His eyes sting like he’s drowning in the ocean. I feel it too are words that die on his tongue, he’s paralyzed and submerged into this replaying panic of I should be happy, I should be happy, but all there is in him is pain, a familiar hurt that’s still unlike any others.

“Hifumi, I love you.”

And it’s just with the words, with the last grain of sand slipping down, that it all ties itself together — The growing noise of the wheels stops to a halt. There’s a hiss as the train stops behind them, tossing an off white blanket over the gray scenery, Hifumi’s eyes go wide, the loose ends tie themselves together, he understands.

“You’re my best friend. I owe you my life for supporting me until I got there.” The later words come and go in slow motion, he’s supposed to let go of his hands now, but all that happens is that his tears finally begin to spill. “We’ve been through so much together and I’m so thankful for you. And I’m so proud of you too, you’ve also come such a long way. So, this is me saying thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

His breathing hitches, hands sweating but unable to move, and the tears just fall down, no amount of willpower or host charisma able to keep them in. The pain finally tears him down, he’s nothing but a mockery of his own image.

That image that’s always been a mockery of his true self.

Doppo’s brows furrow in some sort of concern, noticing the oddity of his reaction, but he just goes on. “You don’t gotta respond now. I know it’s kind of a lot.” He says, letting go of his hands first. Hifumi thinks he might fall down an abyss now but he can’t even scream. “I’ll call you when I get there, okay? Nothing has to change. So you don’t have to cry.”

But everything will, I can’t have that.

It’s not supposed to end like this, on either side. Hifumi sees this as the bad ending because Doppo is parting. Doppo might see this as the bad ending because Hifumi is broken instead of supportive. It’s wrong, all wrong, the tangible ages-old tension is the ribbon that decorates this gift of disaster given to him.

And it’s just now, as he slips away from his grip, as he steps into the white of the train, that Hifumi realizes he’s been loving Doppo the wrong way for his whole life.

Doppo smiles, six feet away, and storms rage inside of Hifumi’s heart, he has so much to say now but not enough time to, the ending crushes him after so long of taking the middle for granted. 

“Doppo, wait—”

He chokes out, but he’s heard, and that’s his chance. There’s no way to tell how it’ll end, how he’ll react, how things will develop after Hifumi’s truth collides with Doppo’s newfound future. He knows it won’t save him, won’t get him what he just found out he wanted, but the feelings are like fire inside him and if he keeps them inside for even a bit longer, they would burn him alive.

It’s all he can have now.

So their gazes cross, Doppo in the train, Hifumi outside, that last still moment before the seconds begin to slip away again — The moment he wishes could last forever, even if it meant feeling this urgency until the end of his days, because now Hifumi knows the pain is better than the absence of it.

He breathes in, his heart stops, the world fades, and he says—

“I’m in love with you!”

It echoes in the empty station, he’s heard, the world is dyed a pure snow white, drowned in deathly silence.

Turquoise eyes widen, a gentle expression growing blank, and the doors close, cutting Hifumi’s world into two before it’s gone with the wind.

It flies away.

And Hifumi finally falls apart, the weight of the years crashing onto him. He’s lucky to be in that liminal space where no one can see him unravel. He’s lucky that despite finally getting the truth out, no one would know about how he regretted bearing the dull ache of those supportive decades, because he was too blinded by emotion to even understand exactly what it was that consumed him.

He doesn’t know what might happen now. He doesn’t have Doppo’s spoken answer, but deep down, he knows what it is. Even if it wasn’t, though, after being in his shadow for so long, there’s not much he can do to reach the perfect ending.

That’s a realization that comes along with knowing what his love was. And what a cruel irony, really, after so long of being selfless, Hifumi finds out in the worst way possible that his generosity was just a different flavor of egoism.

He looks up, wiping tears away. That part of him, now too awake, pleads for everything to be a dream. It wants to have Doppo within arm’s length again, to grab him so he’s not allowed to leave, to be the one to be loved instead of the one loving for once. 

But that’s nothing but a fleeting daydream. 

Casting a glance to the clock up the nearest pillar, the clock strikes midnight, a new day starts.

And is it even real selfishness, if he only gets to act on it once, in a context where it can pass him by so easily? Is it really the best he can do, when he could have stopped ignoring all the ghosts of his own repressed feelings so many years ago? Was this even worth it, would it be the one thing to cut his ties with Doppo forever instead of just putting some distance between them?

He doesn’t know that. But being able to say it out loud, that’s better than nothing.

And better than nothing is something Hifumi is used to.