Chapter Text
When ADAM hits Kaoru with his skateboard, something breaks. Maybe it’s his jaw, maybe it’s his face, maybe it’s just every bit of him at once. The pressure between him and Adam had escalated for days, weeks, months, years, and Kaoru was stupid enough to believe that he could just end it with a simple beef (and unscathed.)
He thought he calculated everything, but ADAM always was one to change the game in a pinch.
The first impact hurts so much Kaoru’s surprised he’s still conscious; his rough landing on the ground makes him wish he wasn’t. The landing sends pain ricocheting through his body, and it takes everything not to cry out. There’s no grace, no strength in him to even rise to his feet.
All he can do is watch as ADAM approaches him. Through the pain, Kaoru wonders: Is he going to hit him again? Did everything they have — had — all amount to nothing in the end? He doesn’t quite catch ADAM’s first words, but it doesn’t matter; the last few hurt him more than anything else ever could.
“The reason I never responded to your beef… Was simply because it was boring,” ADAM says. Not Shindo, his friend, but ADAM. There’s nothing in his voice, nothing at all. No crazed animosity that makes this a crime of passion, no theatrics or jokes. It’s blaise, it’s blank, it's as if ADAM was merely stating the weather. No underlying reason. He'd struck him because he could. Simple as that. He’d seen their past, acknowledged it, and beat it into the dust.
ADAM could smear Kaoru’s soul on the gravel and skip to his next beef without a care in the world. It hurts can’t properly describe what he's feeling right now, but he hurts, and not just in his face.
Kaoru’s always been a man of composure, of endurance, but how the fuck do you heal from a wound like this? The once-blinding pain is now an agonizing ache, and as much as he wants to, as much as he needs to, he can’t get up.
He needs to get a hold of himself. But does it really matter? He failed. All of his training and upgrades and waiting was all for this cruel slap to the face. His pain is reverberating, echoing, it’s, it’s, it’s—
“Kaoru! Can you hear me?”
He focuses his eyes as best he can, even as his vision borders on static. Kojiro’s kneeling by his side — was he stunned for that long or did he run all of the way here? — and he must look horrible if Kojiro’s looking at him like this.
Kaoru tries to raise his head, but all he can manage is a pained sound that makes Kojiro wince. There’s something in Kojiro’s eyes, too, but he’s far too disoriented to tell what. He can’t even scold Kojiro for using his real name — it’s pathetic. For everyone in S to see him like this. For Kojiro to see him like this.
Kojiro’s unexpectedly silent, slowly reaching behind him and lifting him up into a sitting position. Kaoru can only hold himself up for a second; then he falls forward into Kojiro’s arms. Another wave of pain washes over him; all he wants to do at this point is disappear.
He doesn’t even feel the blood running down his forehead until Kojiro grabs a cloth from his pants to wipe it away. “Shit. I’m going to try to—”
Kojiro accidentally grazes the injured half of his face in the process, and he cries out. It’s a strangled, sad sound; perhaps a broken piece of him slipped out with it. Kojiro recoils for a second before steeling himself and cupping the other side of his face.
Kojiro maneuvers as gently as he can around his hair, before finally finding the gash and applying pressure. A jagged line of pain reverberates on Kaoru’s head, and he lets out a pained hiss. Kojiro reaches for his hand to offer solace, comfort, something, but the instant he touches his arm—
“Kaoru, I’m sorry—” Did he cry out in pain again? He can’t tell; only lay limp in Kojiro’s arms. Did ADAM intend to break him? (If he did, he’s succeeded.) He isn’t fine, he isn’t sure he’ll be for a while ( if ever ), and now he just wants to be alone. His facade is falling apart in real-time, and it’s one of the few things he has that he can, that he needs to control at this point.
He's breaking down and rising, he's sinking and swimming, he's nursing old scars and brand new ones. He’s fractured in body and soul, and he’s not quite sure how to fit back together.
Kojiro uses his thumb to wipe something from under his eyes. Is it blood, tears, or a mix of both?
“Kaoru. Stay with me, alright? We’ll be at the hospital soon,” Kojiro assures, but he sounds distant. Kaoru finds himself wishing her were closer.
There’s a response on his tongue, but he’s unconscious before he can say it.
Kojiro’s grateful that the hospital waiting room is empty besides himself — he looks more like a bare-knuckle brawler with all the blood on him. He didn’t expect things to end smoothly between ADAM and Kaoru (they were all forged by the same competitive fire, after all) but he certainly didn’t expect things to end like this.
ADAM’s hurt other people, but not like this. ADAM’S hurt friends, but never like this. (He doesn’t like to think about ADAM for too long, wishing his blood coated his fist instead of Kaoru’s own. Or how he hurt Kaoru deliberately because he could.)
Shadow and Miya have already left after he promised to give them updates. He never expected to find a crowd in S outside of Kaoru, but that’s just one of the better aspects of the race; bringing people from all walks of life together. They’re a weird, eccentric bunch, but that’s what makes it fun.
“Sir?” a nurse murmurs, entering the waiting room and looking towards him. “Your friend is still unconscious, but you can see him if you want.”
“Thanks,” Kojiro responds, giving her a quick wink and following her down the hall.
The first thing Kojiro thinks when he sees Kaoru is how much he’d hate to see himself like this. Kaoru looks better than he was before, limp and bleeding in his arms, but he still looks so frail. Like the shedded skin of the real Kaoru, pale as a ghost and covered in bandages.
“...Is he going to be OK?” Kojiro asks, glancing at the nurse.
“Ah, yes. He’ll need a great deal of rest, but he’s very lucky there was no permanent damage to his body. He should be awake by tomorrow. Are you a friend of his?”
Friends is both an understatement and an overstatement. “Yeah. I’ll just sit with him for a while, if that’s fine.”
“Well, visiting hours are over—”
He rises to his feet and winks. “I’ll be going, then. I would hate to inconvenience such a beautiful, hard-working nurse.”
There’s a quick flash of color on the nurse’s cheeks, and she looks away from him. “Well… As long as you’re not disturbing him, I don't see a problem if you stay.”
Kojiro gives the nurse one of his certified grins before sighing as soon as she leaves and looking back over at Kaoru. Watching the quiet rise and fall of his chest. The stillness of his face.
Just looking at Kaoru like this, knowing all the pain he received was undeserved, causes another wave of emotions to roll over him. He's feeling too many things at once, like an over-spiced soup. There's the spectrum of concern for Kaoru, the ever-familiar mix of anger and horror at ADAM.
What the hell happened to them? They were thick as thieves, once, the united founders of S. Then ADAM went to America and returned as a stranger. He ignored them as friends, as strangers, and even as S competitors, before tonight. Tonight massacred whatever it was they had. Hitting Kaoru (who still looked at ADAM with slivers of the gaze he used to) so hard he could barely rise. Hitting Kaoru in a way that he couldn’t even hit back.
Time passes and he still stays, continuing to watch the rise and fall of Kaoru's breath like clockwork. He’d like to be there when Kaoru wakes up if he can; he knows how skittish Kaoru can get when he’s alone in someplace unfamiliar.
Eventually he has to go, as he watches night creep into the early morning — his restaurant won’t manage itself.
“Kaoru. I’m going home, but I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything crazy.” He doesn't expect an answer, and he doesn't get one.
When Kojiro hears a rattling at Sialaluce’ s door, he expects either an early food delivery or a particularly aggravated stray cat. What he does not expect is Kaoru, sitting in a wheelchair (his custom one, too) waiting for him to open the door.
“Well?” Kaoru asks, as if he isn’t supposed to be in a hospital right now. How hard did ADAM hit him, anyway? Better yet, how strong was the pain medication that they gave him? Kojiro isn’t sure whether to be worried, exasperated, or impressed. Probably a mix of the three.
He holds the door open and watches Kaoru roll in. “Am I dreaming?”
“No. What are you staring at?”
“Funny, I heard the nurse say they were going to keep you for a bit,” Kojiro hums, shutting the door and walking behind the counter.
Kaoru rolls his eyes. “I snuck out.”
“I can see that. Are you an idiot?”
“It’s just a scratch,” Kaoru replies.
“You look like a mummy,” Kojiro responds. It feels odd, being the voice of reason. But, if Kaoru wants to come here, he’ll let him. And if Kaoru wants to act as if nothing drastic happened in the last twenty-four hours and things are still the same, he’ll let him.
Kaoru gives a cocky grin. “These are honorable wounds. You haven’t gone against ADAM, after all.”
There’s a difference between getting injured going versus ADAM and getting brained with a skateboard, but he doesn’t want to ruin Kaoru’s mood. If Kaoru’s fine — or wants to act fine — who is he to disturb it?
“I would have won.”
“You lost against a rookie.”
They bicker the way they used to, the way they always do. Kaoru reaches for a wine bottle to share, but once again they’ve finished it off. He goes into the back to grab another, something special. When he returns, Kaoru’s fast asleep on the counter.
He sighs. How long did Kaoru think he was going to keep up that act, anyway? At least he’s finally getting some rest.
He pours for two— it’s a force of habit, at this point. He pulls out his chair and sits next to Kaoru before sipping his glass. ADAM has a lot of things, but he doesn’t have happiness. ADAM has a lot of things, but he doesn’t have this. They might not be perfect, but they have this.
“You know, we’re not alone. Right, Kaoru?” he asks. He doesn’t expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one.
When Kaoru wakes up, it's only because his pain has surpassed his exhaustion. His body stings, and he's fairly certain half of his face is swollen. He moves his free arm to push himself up, and his hand glides over his glasses, bracelet, cellphone, and a note.
He haphazardly slips on his glasses before squinting at the note. Even in the dark, he can still recognize Kojiro’s haphazard scrawl. Call me when you wake up - J.
Only Kojiro could do something so kind and short-sighted (what if he had rolled over his glasses?) but then again, he can barely move while he’s awake. He doesn’t call Kojiro yet, opting to stare at the all-too-familiar leaf pattern on the ceiling, feeling the hum of Sialaluce coming to life below him.
It’s a small comfort. It's familiar, it's safe, and it means he doesn't have to pull the Sakurayashiki mask over his bruised face.
Somehow, he manages to properly sit up despite his body aching in protest. Kojiro’s room hasn’t changed much since his last visit; the TV is in the same place, with a few new romance movies under it. Same weights on the corner, same posters on the wall. The same dark green desk lamp that he’s seen multiple times since giving it to Kojiro.
Eventually, he dials. Kojiro picks up on the first ring.
“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?” Kojiro asks, and Kaoru can hear the sunshine of his smile through the phone. “I’ll be up in five. Want anything for lunch?”
“Lunch?”
“It’s almost two in the afternoon.”
Shit, how many meetings did he have today? “I’ll be down soon, then. I have a meeting at the calligraphy studio at four—”
“Oh, no you don’t. The doctors said you needed to rest. Y’know, before you snuck out of the hospital and did the opposite of that. Besides, the calligraphy studio is closed this week. I called your assistant Eiji and told him it was an emergency vacation. I said something about restoring your artistic flow.”
“You what? I don’t take emergency vacations—”
“Well, you do now. What do you want for lunch? Would hate for you to yell at me on an empty stomach.”
He takes a deep, deep breath. “Tea, then. And something light.”
True to his word, he can hear Kojiro walking up the stairs a few minutes later. The lights flick on, and there’s the man himself, grinning ear to ear with a tray of tea and bowl of soup. Kaoru can feel his jaw start to smart, and he's silently grateful for Kojiro's foresight.
“Why the pout, four-eyes? Ladies love my breakfast-in-bed special.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
"What, you really expected to go work in that Halloween costume? That pristine image of yours doesn't look good under bandages. Plus the whole sneaking out of the hospital thing," Kojiro responds, resting the tray on the bed.
“You’ve snuck out of hospitals before.”
“That was for a regular check-up. And I couldn’t just let that doctor leave without my number. You snuck out of an emergency room, that's different.”
“I’m fine. It's only some scratches.” And stitches and fractures, but who's counting?
“Sure you are. If anything happens to you, you'd better not haunt me for eternity.”
“You think I’d waste my eternity haunting you? As I said before, I'm fine.”
“Suit yourself. But you can’t work today anyway — we’re going to be busy.”
“Busy doing what?”
Kojiro counts on his fingers. “One, getting you checked at the hospital. Two, getting groceries and your stuff from your apartment. Unless you want to wear my shirts for the next week.”
“Week?" Kaoru sputters. He's not sure if his brewing headache is from his stitches or from the vein he's sure is forming.
“Think of it like one of our school trips. I’ll take you home if that's what you honestly want , but..." Kojiro sighs. "I just want you to be OK. Are you, Kaoru?"
Kaoru’s arm twitches, and he hopes it wasn’t noticed. They stare at each other for a moment. Kaoru sees the same thing he saw in Kojiro’s amber eyes the night before, the one clear vision in yesterday’s haze. What does Kojiro see in his eyes right now?
“I’ll be fine,” he responds. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t exactly the truth, either. He won’t be whatever this is he's feeling forever, but how do you return to fine when you’ve hit rock bottom with a stick of dynamite?
He knows the look in Kojiro’s eyes — when he wants to ask something but knows better not to — but all he does is nod. “So you’re staying?”
Loathe as he is to admit it, Kojiro is right. He doesn’t want to work. He doesn’t want to do anything besides lay in the dark and hoping his body (and whatever’s going on inside him) heals on its own. If Kojiro will let him, then it's fine. Not the fine he is, but actually fine.
“OK,” he sighs. “One week.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Kojiro grins. “Why the long face. Am I really that bad?”
“I’m only agreeing with you because I couldn’t out-wrestle you to go home."
“You couldn’t out-wrestle me no matter what,” Kojiro laughs. “Any scrawnier and you’d be a branch. I let you win in school to be nice.”
By the time they’re done quarreling, Kaoru’s tea has cooled in his hands. He finds that he doesn’t mind it, though.