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How many regrets does a person have in their lifetime? For Kazutora, it was every time he closed his eyes and dream. It wasn’t those fairytale-like dreams, those things were never meant for him. No magic, no dreaming of an ideal Christmas gift, no stories of make-believe, nothing beyond those lines. Instead, he dreamed of eternal slumber, of forgotten promises, of things that could have been.
Kazutora dreams, but it was never a happy one.
“Are you on your dad’s side or are you on my side?”
After all, is happiness even at his side?
“Kazutora.”
He didn’t wrestle himself awake, it was no use, after all. Rather, he let himself breathe. Breathe in each memory, each deja vu, each precious lies until it burns and turns into ashes.
“You can’t choose both,”
It is all a dream, just a dream.
Lies. It was never just a dream. It was torture like he was always in a chokehold, restrained by his past and confined from the present. It binds him deep in his bones, seeping through his veins, reminding him of the value he never had. Was it suffocating? Stifling? Sure, it makes his breath hitched, but he will not put a name to it and he doesn’t bother, either.
(Because naming it means he acknowledged it and acknowledging it means that it’s his loss.)
For him, it was just the usual, everyday occurrence, one that he cannot control. Words can never get him out of this misery, and so what else can he do but live with it?
But is it something that a mere child like him needs to experience?
Acceptance is a transient bliss, it doesn’t heal his wounds from the inside, but just a makeshift cure. A remedy for the ones like him, so he accepts. He closed his eyes despite knowing that it is not real, that he’s still in a dream, yet the scene in front of him played like a broken tune. It was overbearing, those tuneless voices, but it was a reminder that he’s still alive.
But that doesn’t mean that he should be grateful, right?
“You have to choose either one.”
“Ka-zu-to-raaa!” a not-so-gentle slap on his arms jolted him from his nap. His vision was still hazy, adjusting to the sun rays that had entered the small tree’s vicinity he’s currently leaning in. It took him a minute or so before the realization hit him. Wait, so he really fell asleep?
“Yes, you dumbass. Now get your ass up before I kick you.” Kazutora stared at the guy in front of him for a good minute straight. It was one of his childhood friends, Keisuke Baji. He felt his chest loosen up at his sight as he pushed the remnants from his dream far away from where his sanity won’t reach it.
“Ah, so it’s just you, huh.” he brushes off the dirt at his baggy pants, voice hoarse and lacking the usual insult. He stretched his hands up in the air all the while feigning nonchalance at the stare Baji gave him. He knew that stare already that it sometimes caught him off guard, even now as he racked his brain for something to divert their attention to.
He knows him a little too well that it scares him.
“Hey,” Baji started, eyes still fierce and lively as ever, and Kazutora waited anxiously as he hummed, “do you know about the myth of Baku?”
Kazutora blinks once, then twice. He did not know what kind of face he made that the latter’s face flushed into a rosy tint of pink, but it made him breathe, again. And it’s all because of him, again. Again and again and again until he can no longer count with just his ten fingers alone because for him, one thing about them is for sure.
To him, Baji is a special friend. His lips quirked upwards in a gentle line.
“What, you into some occult shit now, Baji?” he said between each chuckle, “so, what is this ‘Baku’ thing, then?” Baji replied with a light stomp on his newly bought shoes as Kazutora hissed. It was now his turn to chuckle.
“Stupid, I heard it from the girls. That’s what they all talked about these days, those kinds of rumors,” Baji nudged his shoulders as he ushered him to walk forward, the summer heat now seeping through their bare skin as they continued their talk, “they say that when you summon it, it can devour your nightmares or something.”
Kazutora almost halted from his steps as his smile slowly falters. He gulped the heaviness in his throat as he jumped at the bridge’s rails with both hands in his pockets. Of course, Baji is Baji, one look is all he needs and now he’s wide open, like a book meant to be read by him and him alone.
“Like what you said, it’s all just ‘rumors’. A myth, nothing but a pile of batshit.” silence was what came after, and Kazutora didn’t know what to feel. His head was still in the clouds and the heat was scorching his skin open; it felt like he’s taking a trip to hell. Baji scrunched his eyebrows, it's almost as if he’s thinking deeply about how he should respond to him that somehow, it makes him more annoyed than he is. Maybe a punch or two could release his pent-up frustration.
Then out of nowhere, Baji kicked the pebble like he’s a soccer MVP and grinned when it hit a nearby trash can. If these were their normal conversation, Kazutora would laugh at how sudden and idiotic his expression is while facing the latter’s middle finger, but it wasn’t.
“Yeah, I know. Pretty sure it’s just a bunch of shit,” the silence continued following them with each step. Kazutora didn’t answer, Baji let him be as if these were written in their unspoken contract.
These were the times Kazutora would question the meaning behind his words. Sure, he may have known Baji ever since he defended him from an old ‘friend’, but it doesn’t mean he can read him the same way Baji can. And now that it crossed his mind, he felt utterly pathetic.
“That’s unfair, you know,” he whispered. Baji hummed as an acknowledgment at his answer. Kazutora frowned.
“Nightmares are only nightmares, they can’t do shit.” he winced at his words, and his gaze sharpened. Static lines were blurring his vision as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hands already itching to hit something.
“That’s a really shitty way of thinking, Baji.”
“What, can they uppercut you in the face? That hurts more, dude,” Kazutora felt a nerve snapped at his head but before he could let his fist reply, Baji faced him, his tiny fangs shining under the sun, grinning, “and besides, as long as Tokyo Manji gang is here, I’m sure nobody can bring us down! Not even a pathetic nightmare, to say the least.”
Kazutora was twelve when he first saw the sun up close. It rivaled the sun’s heat so much it melted the unwanted memories down the sink until none of its remnants were left. He was left standing like an idiot, mouth gaping and eyes sparkling.
The sun was so bright, it hurts.
“Although our members are a nightmare themselves, but they’re bearable so it’s fine,” Baji caressed his nape as if he was flustered, gaze looking away at his, “Man, saying that out loud is embarrassing, I ain’t doing that again.” an arm slings at Baji’s shoulder, causing him to lose a little balance.
“What, you talking shit about us, Baji?” Mikey yawns as Baji tries to push him away but utterly fails.
“Not fair, should have let us listen, idiot!” Draken, the tallest of them all, rests his fist at Baji’s head amusingly.
“Eh? What the fuck are you all doing here? I thought we’re going to meet up at the usual place? And your fist is too heavy, dude!”
“I’m an idiot but I pretty much know the reason why we’re here,” Pah replied with chips in his mouth before Mitsuya took the last bite.
“We’ve been waiting for ages, you little shits! Now the ceremony is ruined because Pah-chin already took a peek at our uniforms!”
“Calm down, Mitsuya. It’s not like it’s the end of the world, jeez. But I’m an idiot, so I’m not sure.”
“Well, it’s not my fucking fault I’m assigned to find a certain someone that’s sleeping under a random tree when we clearly talked about meeting at our place!”
“It’s not our fault you’re stupid at playing rock-paper-scissors, stupid.”
And all Kazutora did was listen. He listens as the crowd fades away from his peripheral vision until they’re all that he can see. He listens, even as their laughter rang in his ears until he found himself laughing along with them because he is right . Baji is here, Toman is here, his family is here .
Everything that he needed is here, and that’s enough.
Until the nightmare turns into reality as the numbing sensation of handcuffs trapped his skin and breaks him apart. Laughter was no longer ringing in his ears, instead, the police siren’s bled his eardrums, but it wasn’t enough to block those memories.
Baji is here, crying, as he stares at someone with anguish in his eyes.
Kazutora was breathing, but at the same time, he can't. There were vague signs whirling around the air of how this night is not something to be left unseen, he could feel it prickling his skin earlier. The same night he had been seeing every time he closed his eyes. The same night he does not want to remember but kept on reappearing in his dreams over and over again.
He knew about this, yet he continued his plans. All for a friend, for his family, for Mikey.
And suddenly, Toman was family.
Because standing amongst the crowd before the two of them were taken away was Mikey. Mikey with that unreadable emotion written in his eyes, those same eyes he had seen back in that shop, but in a different vessel.
The same eyes as the eyes of the guy he took his life with his bare hands.
Kazutora dreams and he regrets it.
“What the hell did you do, Kazutora?!”
It was all for Mikey, all for Mikey.
“That’s not what I mean! Shinichiro-kun is,”
Stop! Just stop!
“Mikey’s older brother!”
“You have to choose either one.”
Kazutora heaves for air shakily, his grasp on the blanket covering him tightens until it whitens his knuckles. His eyes settled at the ceiling’s void, easing his breath until it calmed down completely.
He was in an unfamiliar room, and warmth was nowhere to be found.
He sat with contemplation in his sleeves. He wished he was still in that nightmare, but the reality is something you simply cannot run away from. It contorts itself until it makes you believe you can be something, that you can change the course of your life, and when you’re near the finish line, it resets and lets you fall into the abyss.
And there, you’re at the starting point again.
Kazutora watched as his white blanket was suddenly filled with tiny dots of red. His mouth suddenly tastes like he ate metal for dinner where in fact, he hasn’t eaten a single crumb ever since he entered this hellhole they called ‘reform school’. He doesn’t like it, cannot stomach it, and will not accept the life he has now. He lets go of his lips, all too bruised and numb for him to care.
“This is all because of Mikey.” he stared at his hands before resting his forehead there and laughed maniacally before it flashes back to that night.
If words can never get him out of this misery, then maybe, actions could take him somewhere, anywhere.
‘It’s all his fault it’s all his fault it’s all his fault it’s all his fault-’
The rustle of a falling paper caught and diverted his attention away from his headspace until it landed with serenity in its air. He lifts his head with a soft and subtle expression on his face as water pooled beneath his eyes.
Keisuke Baji.
It was a letter signed by him. A letter he had digressed to read until his conscience eats him up before he breathes in each word. A letter that holds a special place in his heart.
A letter that was written for him and him alone.
In a flash, Kazutora remembers. He remembered how much of a bad liar he is because after all, all he could do is lie. He lied, for warmth was never gone. Warmth was with him, passed through a single paper scribbled with messy handwriting.
And suddenly, crying has never been harder than living.
And once again, freedom is within his touch. He grasps onto it tightly the second an opportunity passed by and he breathes , just as he had been doing since the start. Breathing and breathing until smoke fills his lungs with lust for revenge.
And there, he knew. His resolve, his hatred, his insatiable desire. Those could never be rewritten anymore. It could never overwrite his longing desire for his blood draining slowly in his hands, the rusty smell of metal liquid cleansing the air, and everyone will remember this day.
In his eyes, Mikey is no longer a family. None of them deserves to be called that except for him .
(But then, why does it ache with a certain familiarity he could not put a finger to?)
Until he’s here in front of his so-called ‘enemy’ as all hell breaks loose around them. This was the day he had been waiting for, the revenge that he craves from times where his sanity was left hanging on a string. He couldn’t care less about others when his prey, his enemy , is here. In front of him, breathing the same air as his. It felt surreal, ecstatic that it pumps more adrenaline in his veins until he cannot stop smiling .
“I’ve been waiting for sooo long for this, Mikey!” he shouts with his chest tightening at each syllable. It felt like he was drowning and each breath he intakes is a poison choking him up. Would it be one of his regrets or the long-lost remedy he yearns for?
But he couldn’t give a damn nor second thoughts were allowed, not when Baji’s on his side, not on Mikey’s. And that’s enough of a reassurance for him.
The plan was simple: fight his ‘enemy’, the cause of his crippling affliction, and put an end to his life.
It was that simple and yet, how did it come to this?
Kazutora dreams, and for the first time, he wished he didn’t.
“Am I your enemy Kazutora?”
Shut up! Of course, you are!
“Turns out Baji’s a traitor, after all.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up-
“Don’t worry about it, Kazutora.”
“I’m with you ‘til the end!”
“Choose.”
“Oi, stop breathing so heavily, fuckface!” Kazutora jerked from where he was sleeping, his neck suffering because of the sudden movement he just did. The muttering of curses stopped, but his mind raced at a great speed that he started feeling nauseous.
Right, he wasn’t in the reform school anymore, rather, at a place he loathes the most. Freedom was sweet until it dispersed into thin air as if it wasn’t meant to exist in the first place. Before, it was just thin walls. Now, rusty railings are all he can see.
It was all just a dream, right?
He started biting his nails, his breathing uneven as the heat envelops him in a tight embrace until it all sinks in like a meteor hitting the rock bottom.
Valhalla versus Toman. Him beating Mikey with a metal pipe. Mikey kicking him with his signature kick. Him stabbing Baji. Baji assuring him that it wasn’t his fault . Baji lying unconscious in someone's lap. Baji creating Toman. Baji simply existing. Until he isn’t.
Baji was here until he wasn’t.
And it was all because of how blind he is for revenge.
“Don’t die, Kazutora.” Draken’s words echoed and bounce back to the crumbling walls as if he was still there. He was, but now, he’s alone.
The walls are closing in, his senses were numbing him down, and when it all dawned on him, his bitten nail was torn apart.
Why does realization always come at last, when all that it could give you are regrets and agony?
“I forgive you.”
Myriads of emotions started pouring in, regrets turning to sadness, sadness turning to disgust, disgust turning to hatred, and hatred turning to conviction. If destroying things is all he could do, then maybe, he could destroy these nightmares too, right?
“I’m with you ‘til the end!”
And there, he gave himself another reason to live while losing something, someone , precious along the way.
Kazutora was fifteen when he saw how the sun loses its light just for its moon to rose up.