Chapter Text
“Where is he?” Kakeru rolled over under his blankets, rubbing his fist into the spot between his eyes. When he squinted them open, his phone told him it was past one in the morning. What was it, a Tuesday? Christ. He’d have to put one of the twins in charge of morning practice tomorrow.
“Wright’s. Some dive bar in the next town over. I dunno, I just looked at his location.” Nico’s voice was sleep-tinged and sullen on the phone, pieces of it cracking off and guttering out.
Of all people, Nico knew about vices. He still smoked the occasional cigarette, and Kakeru could see how much he savored them, smoke disappearing wholly into his lungs while his eyes drifted shut. He usually smoked in his room, purposely letting the smell linger into his clothes, his curtains. Just for a while.
It was really only occasionally, though.
More than occasionally, Nico dragged himself out of bed at sunrise and ran through the park, logging miles before most people had brushed his teeth in the morning. Habits were habits. So Nico was doing okay, all things considered, but he still knew.
Kakeru, on the other hand, had never known. Which meant the first time it happened- the first time Nico had called, saying that Haiji wouldn’t listen and begging Kakeru to pick him up off the floor of some shitty dance club, beads of sweat running off his hairline and slurred explanations running out of his mouth- the reality of it caught up to him all at once, smacking bluntly into Kakeru’s gut and exploding his thoughts against the heavy bass pounding out of the speakers. He yelled a lot more back then.
Really, though, it hadn’t happened all at once, no matter how much Kakeru felt like it did. Since Haiji’s last race- their last race- it happened as slowly as paint peeled, flaking off little by little.
It was little things. Haiji’s cooking got sloppy, less consistent. Kakeru noticed, but he didn’t notice enough. He knew everyone had school work to catch up on. Haiji was supposed to be taking it easy after his emergency knee surgery. His leg was stuck in a brace for weeks, so they felt lucky he was still making things for them at all.
Kakeru didn’t pay much attention when Haiji’s room got messier, books and papers scattered all over the place. His bed was never made any more, but he was going to move out anyway.
What Nico had noticed, that Kakeru never did, was when Haiji stopped celebrating and started drinking. Empty cans on the weekend stretched into Thursdays and Sundays. The occasional Wednesday. Hadn’t he been okay, though? He was still a college student. He was graduating. It all seemed normal to Kakeru. Why couldn’t he see it, the way Nico apparently did, when his easy smile stuck on like plaster and the light in his eyes flickered out into nothing? Kakeru still had trouble seeing it. Haiji’s expressions were sewn up tightly by alcohol and stupid jokes, inches from unraveling, and somehow Nico was the only one who could see the signs.
“Did you try to call him?” Kakeru asked, tumbling out of his bed and pulling sweatpants on from his drawer.
Nico sighed and Kakeru felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have asked that, because he already knew the answer, but Nico responded anyway. “You know he doesn’t pick up for me.” He paused. Kakeru heard the flick of a lighter before Nico continued, muffled with a cigarette between his lips. “Not when he gets like this.”
“Yeah,” Kakeru responded simply. He scratched at the corner of his phone case, unsure of what else to say. They both knew the drill at this point. “I’ll see you soon.”
The bar was forty minutes away. Maybe Haiji would get a ride home in that time, and Kakeru would have driven out for nothing, but that had never happened before. The bars weren’t closed yet. Kakeru rolled down the window slightly, feeling the bite of winter air in his face. The trees passed him in blurs on the side of the road. When he was running, he sometimes felt this fast, the road disappearing underneath him and the lights blackening his vision at the edges. He breathed deeply. Imagined lifting off and flying over the trees. He focused on keeping some part of his brain above the dense fog that dragged it to better places and times, ones that he couldn’t bear to visit, not tonight.
He finally arrived around two in the morning. The town was dark, its residents asleep behind closed doors and drawn windows. The bar lit up dimly, unconvincingly open, and Kakeru parked in the gravel out front. A bell clanged overhead when he pushed open the glass door.
Kakeru blinked into the lights. Haiji was seated at the corner of the bar, talking with his arm hanging over the shoulder of an older man. He laughed, nodded his head, and took a sip of his beer before he finally turned towards the front entrance.
“Kakeru!” he announced to the nearly empty room. He hopped off his stool and walked towards the door, arms wide to keep himself from stumbling. He tripped anyway, catching his toe on the corner of a rug. He smiled at himself. His mouth opened wide on his face and the dim overhead lights reflected brightly in his eyes. At least, they did for Kakeru, because Kakeru could never tell what was real or not, not like Nico could, especially when Haiji looked pretty, his face flushed and his hair hanging messily over his forehead. Haiji approached him warmly, wrapping his arm around Kakeru’s neck.
And, fuck it all, Kakeru felt his face redden and his ears go hot. Even now, over a year since Haiji graduated, Kakeru couldn’t stamp out the flutter in his chest and the agonizing way his stomach turned whenever they were this close. Maybe Kakeru could abandon the stark reality of it all, just for tonight, and lose himself in the way Haiji clung onto him, limbs soft but still familiarly lean. He was so close. He could feel Haiji’s chest against his side, breathing in and out. Haiji's fingers clutched at Kakeru’s arm as he was dragged towards the bar.
“Meet my new friend, it’s his birthday today.” Haiji nodded toward the older man.
“Friend” meant that Haiji couldn’t remember his name. The man turned and grinned. His face was beet red, his eyes pinched and sloshed. He held out a hand.
Kakeru shook it briefly and then wiped his palm on his pant leg. He didn’t ask the man’s name, because he didn’t care what it was. He frowned at the smell of whiskey sweating off of the man’s dark navy button-down.
Haiji was charismatic. Although he couldn’t run anymore, he hadn’t lost the figure of a runner, and even without that, his face was attractive enough. Plus, he was fiercely manipulative, so he pretty much got whatever he wanted.
On nights like this, Haiji had a tendency to make “friends.”
Kakeru’s nails dug into his palms and he bit hard on his tongue. It wasn’t his business. Haiji could do what he wanted. Had, probably, because there were so many nights like this, and Nico was out of town sometimes, or working late.
“Want anything?” the bartender asked.
Kakeru was never good at wrangling his emotions, so he spoke with a scowl. “No, we’re leaving.”
The bartender frowned but Haiji just laughed, his voice floating over the sudden tension in the room. He waved his hand. “Hold on, let me finish this first.” He reached for his glass and Kakeru didn’t stop him. Partially because there wasn’t much left, but mostly because he had fought that fight before, and it was a losing one. Haiji downed it in one long swig and reached in his pocket for his wallet. He tossed cash onto the bar and exchanged a few jokes with the other man. Then, he threw his arm back around Kakeru’s shoulders, out of affection or necessity or both. When they got outside, Kakeru half-dragged Haiji into the passenger seat, pushing his head down so he wouldn’t whack it on the roof of the car (something he learned from experience). Kakeru sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the key.
“That guy was actually nice,” Haiji commented as Kakeru drove. The windows were cracked open because Haiji smelled like alcohol and Kakeru was sick of it. Haiji drummed his fingers on the roof and wind whipped through the dark brown shadows of his hair.
“Shut up,” Kakeru responded.
Haiji frowned. “It wouldn’t kill you to be friendly.”
He was being antagonized. Kakeru gripped the wheel until the tips of his fingers buzzed. He focused on memorizing the signs along the side of the road. It didn’t help anything when he lost his temper. Didn’t help when he yelled. Haiji had taught him that, back when they were on the team together. And these days, he taught that same lesson, over and over again, in a much different way.
Kakeru breathed through his teeth. “Haiji, I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?” Haiji dropped his hand from the window.
“You know what.” Kakeru snapped back.
Haiji narrowed his eyes. Even wasted, he was dangerously perceptive. “Why’d you come to pick me up?”
“Nico called me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Haiji protested. He tilted his head and leaned forward slightly.
Kakeru twisted his hands anxiously on the wheel. He didn’t yell, but his voice was pressed trying to contain itself, and his thoughts rolled out of his mouth, unchecked. “I don’t know, Haiji, so you don’t die of hypothermia trying to walk home? So you don’t get yourself arrested?” Kakeru glared at Haiji for a moment, side-eyed, before staring back at the road. “Maybe you don’t remember, but we used to be friends, once, so maybe I don’t want to see you drink yourself into a coma or go home with some random-“
Kakeru cut himself off and snapped his eyes forward. He felt a blush run into his cheeks again and was thankful that the passing shadows would cover it up.
He was an idiot for thinking Haiji wouldn’t notice anyway.
From the passenger seat, Haiji’s eyes widened. For once, he seemed genuinely caught off guard. “Kakeru, you think I’m… I wouldn’t-“
“It doesn’t matter.” Kakeru interrupted. “You can do what you want.”
Kakeru had never meant anything less, and he was pretty sure the defiance in his tone gave him away. He bit his lip.
Haiji stared forward, pondering silently. “We’re not friends?”
Kakeru sighed. Haiji was playing games with him again, forcing him into these inane conversations. Maybe he wanted Kakeru to snap, or to yell. Maybe he just wanted attention. Kakeru hated this. He held his voice even. “Do you ever hang out with me?”
“You’re always busy,” Haiji challenged.
“Running the team you started,” Kakeru argued. “You of all people should know how much time that takes.”
A strained silence filled the car. Nowadays, Haiji got weird whenever the current team came up in conversation. His eyes focused on the road while his back teeth tightened against each other. “How is it going?”
Kakeru eyed him suspiciously. “Do you actually want to know?”
Haiji nodded silently. Kakeru continued. “The twins recruited a strong group. One of the freshmen can almost match my pace on the uphills. We’ve started running more stairs on Saturdays. It’s good, Haiji.”
Haiji shrugged his shoulders up and looked out the window with his lips pressed tightly together. No matter how far removed he was from everyone, the team was by and large his creation, and none of the shameful things he had done in the past year could snuff out that tiny ounce of pride. Kakeru felt a pang of nostalgia. It made him weak. “You could come around sometime.”
It was a dumb thing to say, and Kakeru didn’t even bother watching Haiji’s reaction, since he already knew what it would be. Haiji had made it overwhelmingly clear, in words and cold shoulders and nights drunk into a dim-witted haze, that he couldn’t be part of the team anymore.
Kakeru let out a breath when they finally pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. He stepped out into the cold and pulled Haiji out of the car. In the elevator, Haiji leaned into Kakeru’s side, rolling his head onto his shoulder. The drive home had the tendency to sap energy out of Haiji, and his eyes blinked slow and heavy.
Nico answered the door when they knocked. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. When he saw Haiji he pulled a hand through his long hair. It fanned wildly, which only served to highlight how exhausted he looked. Nira trotted over, wagging her tail and sniffing at their feet.
“I got him,” Kakeru commented. “You can go to bed.”
Nico nodded. “You’re always welcome to the couch if you want it. Or to whatever food is around.”
Kakeru walked Haiji to his door. “I know. Thanks, but I have practice in the morning.”
Nico winced and let out a knowing huff of air, looking sympathetic. He wandered back towards his own door. “Sorry about calling you again. If there were any other-“
“I know, Nico.” Kakeru lifted his head to make eye contact with him, his face serious. Kakeru had put up with a lot of bullshit, but Nico was living in it. He had basically told Haiji they were getting an apartment together after graduation, even though Haiji could support himself fine writing freelance at odd hours of the day. But Nico saw where Haiji was headed and stepped in to find some semblance of control. So even when Kakeru got calls at one or two in the morning, he could only feel grateful.
Haiji normally dove into his bed, wrapping himself immediately under the covers, but this time he sat. Kakeru turned to leave but instead felt Haiji’s fist gripping the back of his jacket.
“Kakeru-“ he started.
“What?” Kakeru’s voice was sharp, unamused.
“I’m sor-“
“Don’t fucking say it, Haiji.” Kakeru startled at the harshness of his own response. He winced internally but didn’t take it back. It wasn’t like he hadn’t meant it.
Haiji didn’t even argue, just slumped his shoulders deeper, curling in on himself. He stared off into a corner, eyes unfocused like he was watching something past the walls of the little room. He huffed out a tiny breath. “I don't think you’ve ever cussed at me before.” The corner of his lip quirked and his teeth poked out, like he found it amusing. His cheeks pressed up under his eyes and he glanced up, his irises swimming with bright golden trails. “I always liked how honest you were.”
It wasn’t even a smile, not even half of one, but it tore apart Kakeru’s chest and opened up something hot and fiery in his throat. It hurt to see Haiji unraveling, losing more of himself every time he wasted away hours at some shitty dive bar. Sometimes, though, in moments like this, the old Haiji was dragged back from the depths of a distant memory, affectionate and familiar, and that hurt so much worse to see. Kakeru felt stupid all of a sudden, because how could he ever mistake Haiji’s genuine expression for the worthless face he put on from behind the bottle? He stood frozen, one hand with a white-knuckled grip on the door handle.
“Please stay.”
If it hadn’t been for the dead silence in the apartment, Kakeru would’ve missed the whisper that threaded through Haiji’s lips.
He couldn’t do it. Kakeru shook his head sharply, staring down at the floor.
“I don’t…” Haiji gripped the edge of the mattress. Knitted the blanket between his fingers. He spoke softly. He sounded small. “There’s no one else. It’s always been you.”
“You’re drunk.” Kakeru choked, his eyes still nailed to his feet.
Haiji stood and walked a few steps closer. “That’s not why… I’ve always…”
Kakeru didn’t need to be convinced. Of course he knew. Had known. He knew the night they stared up at the stars, mugs warm between their palms, and Haiji asked him if he was dating anyone. He knew every time Haiji quieted Kakeru’s spiraling thoughts by laying a hand over his shoulder. He knew when they made eye contact at the finish line, and Haiji collapsed into his arms.
What he didn’t know was what happened after.
Kakeru felt a hand on his wrist. Haiji whispered again. “Please, Kakeru, just for tonight.”
Kakeru looked up. Tears stung into his eyes and his mouth fell into an open frown. How many nights had he waited for this? How often did he lie in bed, thinking about the unsaid thoughts between them, wondering when they would finally make their way to the surface? He imagined this moment, in so many ways, and he couldn’t believe it was happening here, now.
It was all wrong.
Haiji’s face was strung with exhaustion. His hair was messy and he smelled like booze. He wasn’t asking, he was begging. His eyes were half-closed, his vision probably spinning at this point in the night. Kakeru could barely recognize the creature struggling to stand upright in front of him. It wasn’t the person who chased after him when they first met or the person who convinced him to join the team. He wasn’t anyone, anymore. Kakeru shook his head and ripped his hand out of Haiji’s grip. His throat was tight and he struggled to speak at all.
“Fuck you.”
It was too harsh, again- Kakeru was always too harsh- but it felt like the only way out. A choking sob gathered in his throat and he panicked, needing to escape before it took him over. He yanked the door handle and turned, sparing one last painful look at Haiji, a pillar of light splitting his face in two, before slamming it closed behind him.
On the way home, he yelled as tears streamed down his cheeks. The freezing wind stung at his face and he banged a fist into the steering wheel.