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“Ash? You look a little weak; would you like something to eat?”
Ash cranes his neck to see Eiji’s warm brown eyes peering down at him. His body is still stiff and sore from the sedatives Dino pumped into his body to keep him lifeless, to keep him like--a doll, whispers the voice in his head, like a fucking toy, built for Dino to use over, and over again.
“W-What,” stammers Ash slowly, shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts. “What did you say, Eiji?”
Eiji gently places a hand on Ash’s shoulder reluctantly, as though Ash is made of glass and might break at any moment. Ash’s mouth goes sour.
“I was wondering if you wanted something to eat.” Eiji’s voice is soft, and something in Ash cringes. He doesn’t need soft, doesn’t deserve soft. Eiji shouldn’t treat him this way. He should rip him apart, tear into him like everyone has before him. Ash’s mind returns to Dino’s mansion, to the knots that ravaged his stomach every time Dino entered the room, to his own falsely confident voice explaining the most horrifyingly unethical plans to a slew of corrupt politicians that only valued him as a person as long as he could entertain them with his own intellect, to the delicacies Dino’s staff prepared for him-- as if plying Ash with treats and expensive food could absolve him of his abuse, to the pangs of hunger that ripped open his stomach until he was left crying in pain in a hospital bed.
Ash shakes his head violently. “No food.”
Eiji doesn’t press the matter, just looks at Ash disappointedly, and Ash turns against the cold wall-- he’s not sleeping in a bed, not tonight and not for the foreseeable future-- and waits for sleep to drag him under. He can already tell his dreams won’t be pleasant tonight.
______
Ash is woken by fingers— Eiji’s fingers, he realizes belatedly— tracing the outline of his jaw. Ash thrashes blindly, trying to fend off the assailant, and his fist connects with flesh with a crack.
“Ow,” mutters Eiji, rubbing his cheek demurely, and Ash feels a hot bubble of shame burst in his gut. He’s hurt Eiji, he’s hurt him. He doesn’t deserve to even exist in the same space as him, because Eiji is good, and Ash is not.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” breathes Ash. “Are you okay?”
Eiji nods, and brushes off Ash’s apology with a flick of his wrist.
“I’m fine! Don’t worry about it, Ash.”
Eiji’s words do nothing to assuage Ash’s guilt, which rises in his stomach like bile, hot and acidic. He should give a better apology, should do something to pay for what he did, but his body is weak and his mind is cloudy and he can’t think of anything.
Eiji’s voice brings him back to reality.
“It’s been over twenty-four hours,” says Eiji confidently, although his eyes are concerned and his mouth is set in a hard line. “Do you think you’re ready to eat something?”
Ash thinks for a moment. He’s not hungry-- hasn’t been since his return to Dino’s mansion-- and the thought of food makes him feel physically ill. On the other hand, Eiji is obviously worried about him, and Ash has caused him enough pain already. Better not to trouble him with this problem, whatever it is. Ash has heard Blanca’s doctor and Dino whispering about anorexia behind their hands when they thought he was asleep, although they’re so laughably wrong that Ash almost wants to smile. How fucking typical of Dino to so completely oblivious of the psychological implications of his abuse, to assume that children could simply survive assault and continue with their lives, unscathed. Ash doesn’t want to lose weight, has never particularly cared about his figure, or calories, or portions.
It all boils down to this: Ash doesn’t deserve food. He’s been groomed into becoming Dino’s heir, and he managed to play the part perfectly for the weeks he was at the mansion, feigning nice with vile politicians, and introducing equally vile plans to the negotiation table--genius ideas, if one is willing to overlook the fact that Ash is proposing literal war, death and destruction for the monetary gain of the Corsican Foundation, that is. If Dino and the others do take his advice (and they will, because Ash’s strategy will earn them money, and that’s all the bastards want), how many will die because of him? How many families will be torn apart? Ash couldn’t have played dumb-- Dino isn’t stupid, and would have known immediately if Ash wasn’t fully dedicated to fulfilling his role as Dino’s heir-- and so this was the only form of control he could exert over his life. Self destruction, in the form of food restriction. A fitting punishment for someone who consistently destroys and corrupts everything he touches.
Eiji slips his hand into Ash’s, and Ash starts a little, surprised at the touch. Eiji’s eyes are wide with worry, and Ash nods languidly, stretches up as though nothing is wrong, his mind made up.
“Yeah, actually. I would love something to eat,” he says.
Eiji visibly brightens, and Ash feels his stomach curl--he’s an expert liar; all he’s ever been good at was manipulation and trickery. He probably can’t get out of eating at least a few bites in front of Eiji, but that’s easily taken care of. Simple.
Eiji pads away, his slippers scuffling against the hardwood of their apartment as Ash steels himself for the complete sensory overload that will surely accompany the food Eiji’s bringing. God, the smell of food itself is enough to make Ash nauseous. He can’t even imagine how overwhelming it will be to have to actually eat it.
Ash can hear Eiji singing to himself in Japanese as he fiddles with the microwave, and Ash almost wants to ask Eiji what the words mean, what the song is about, but restrains himself. Just focus on getting the food down.
Eiji returns, still humming, and kneels at Ash’s side, bearing a huge mug. For a moment, Ash stupidly wonders why Eiji has brought him tea, and almost complains that Eiji knows how much Ash hates that bitter leaf water, but the playful complaint dies in his throat when he looks into the cup to see potatoes and some sort of green vegetable--kale, maybe?-- floating on top of a reddish broth, oil beading on top. It’s comfort food, the kind a mother would prepare for her sick child in a family sitcom. Comfort. Ash feels sick.
Eiji is still watching him, so Ash brings the cup to his lips and takes the tiniest of sips. He places the cup back on the ground, and Eiji is at his side with a napkin, gently wiping away the little rim of soup around his mouth. Ash flinches away from Eiji’s hand so violently that he almost spills the mug’s contents all over the floor. Eiji’s careful mask slips for a second, his expression morphing briefly yet unmistakably into a look of hurt, and Ash feels that familiar pang once again.
Monster.
The world feels too small and yet too vast all at once, and Ash suffocates.
“I’ll be right back,” Ash makes out, shakily standing up and tripping over his feet as he makes his way to the bathroom. He feels slightly calmer as he locks the door with a click, and turns on the shower and twists the faucet at the sink. The soothing sound of the water running clears some of his earlier panic, and he bends to kneel in front of the toilet. He feels more than a little guilty, doing this with Eiji so close, but he needs to purge the soup from his body, if only to pay for hurting Eiji earlier.
There’s a grim sort of satisfaction in purging, Ash thinks. It almost feels fulfilling, as his fingers brush against the back of his throat, hesitantly at first, then faster and faster, harder and harder, until he’s retching violently, tears springing to his eyes unbidden, stomach convulsing painfully. There’s acid in his nose, and his mouth feels dry and blank. Ash is breathing hard, stomach empty and knees shaking, and picks himself off of the floor. He flushes the toilet, washes his hands, careful to scrub under every fingernail, splashes water over his face to get rid of any lingering sweat and vomit, and rinses his mouth. He moves mechanically, a puppet dancing along in complete subservience to his master.
(If he’s a puppet, who’s pulling the strings? What a stupid question. It’s Dino, always has been.)
Ash wipes his hands on his pants as he makes his way down the hallway. Eiji’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, exactly where Ash left him, but his jaw is set and hands are trembling.
“Ash?” he asks tentatively, as soon as Ash is within earshot. “Why did you make yourself throw up?”
Fuck. Ash’s heart thuds brokenly in his chest, slowly, too slowly, and his head starts to spin. However nauseous he was before, he’s feeling ten times as sick now. He shouldn’t be anxious like this, shouldn’t be lightheaded like this, but the idea of Eiji being exposed to Ash’s raw edges like this makes bile rise up in his throat. Eiji was never meant to find out. Eiji was never meant to find out.
Ash’s knees are weak now, but he can’t collapse in front of Eiji. He wants to run but his feet are rooted to the floor. All he can do is hang his head and mumble a few unintelligible words, hoping that Eiji will get the hint and leave it alone.
Of course Eiji doesn’t leave it alone. He’s Eiji.
Eiji stands, and walks over to Ash, tilting his head downwards so as to look Ash in the eyes. Ash looks apprehensively at Eiji, expecting to see anger, or disappointment in his eyes, but is surprised to only see genuine concern, and something else Ash can’t quite place. The knowledge that Eiji isn’t upset at him loosens Ash’s throat enough to allow him to form a coherent explanation.
“I’m a bad person. I shouldn’t get to eat. I don’t deserve it.”
Eiji grasps at Ash’s wrist, and shakes his head plaintively, a kind of resigned outrage on his face.
“Food isn’t something you deserve,” he says simply. “And you’re not a bad person. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
Ash makes a small sound of pain in the back of his throat, and turns away, as though he can’t allow Eiji to look him in the face. Eiji follows his glance.
“I mean it,” Eiji starts. “You saved me over and over, and you allowed me to stay, even if that meant that you had to take care of me because I’m so weak. You-- you even went back to Golzine’s for me! Please, Ash,” Eiji is crying now, tears streaming down his face and choking up his words as he finishes. “You’re not a bad person! Because if you were a bad person, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you!”
The room seems to gape with the enormity of Eiji’s confession, the deafening silence echoing in the small space. It’s broken with the sound of Ash’s wretched sobs. He sounds like he’s being ripped in half.
“Don’t say that!” Ash bursts out, nose red and eyes swollen. “Don’t say that,” he repeats brokenly. “I-I--I knew this would happen! I manipulated you somehow, I tricked you into thinking I’m a good person--I’m a monster, Eiji! Get away from me before I hurt you even more!”
Ash sinks to his knees, body shaking and swaying unsteadily like a piece of paper being blown about by an unrelenting gale. Eiji simply moves to sit opposite him, peering into Ash’s eyes even as Ash tries desperately to avoid eye contact. He can’t look at Eiji, not after this.
“How did you manipulate me?” Eiji asks. “Because I’ve known you for months now, and you’ve never, not ever done anything that could even come near what I’d consider manipulation. You spend so much time punishing yourself, and I don’t understand why. You’re not a bad person; you have nothing to apologize for. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
“You really don’t understand,” whispers Ash. “I’ve seduced more men than I can count, extorted them for money or a place to stay; I gave them ideas, told them how to engineer political wars for the Corsican Foundation’s benefit, I’ve killed, Eiji. I’ve killed more men than I could possibly hope to count, and the worst part is that I don’t regret it. I’m not a good person, Eiji, and I deserve everything that’s happened to me. Everything except you. I could never, ever deserve you.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Ash. It wasn’t--” Eiji says with a ghost of a sound, but Ash cuts him off almost immediately, eyes wild.
“Why does everyone say it wasn’t my fault! You, Max, Jessica, it’s all the same! I’m fucking seventeen! I’m old enough to make my own decisions! This wasn’t Dino’s fault, wasn’t Marvin’s fault, it wasn’t my dad’s fault, it wasn’t the coach’s fault, it was all my fault. I killed all those people, I got Skipper and Griff killed, I’m the reason millions are going to die in South America, and I’m the reason you keep getting hurt, over and over again!” Ash chokes out a bitter laugh. “Stop trying to separate me from my actions, it’s impossible. You’re just trying to believe in a person who doesn’t fucking exist, at least not anymore. I am every evil thing I’ve done.”
Eiji looks resolute. “No sane person could ever hold any of the things you mentioned against you. Playing the blame game only leads you down an interminable rabbit hole of self-loathing. Anyway, if you’re responsible for Skip and Griff’s death, for all those deaths, for something that might, maybe happen in South America, I’m just as much to blame as you are. I’m the one who got captured and who backed you and Skip into a corner; I led Arthur and his men to Dr. Meredith and Griff; you only went back to Dino’s and came up with those damn plans because he and Blanca threatened my life if you didn’t go. Look at me in the eyes and tell me that I don’t deserve to eat, that I deserve to puke up all my food. Look at me and tell me I don’t deserve anything.”
Ash shakes his head, curling into himself. “No, Eiji. It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. You’re good, in a way I didn’t believe was possible before I met you. I love you so much, see, that’s why you have to get away from me. You have to get away from me before I corrupt you and hurt you.”
“I’ll say it a thousand times if it’ll make you believe it, Ash,” Eiji says with a look of distant sadness. “You’re not hurting me, you never have. Please, Ash, you’re not bad, I promise. You’re the reason I stayed in America, why I stayed even though I knew it was dangerous and I could be killed. I stayed because of you, because you’re brave and kind and selfless. I stayed because I love you, and you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
Eiji’s hand catches at Ash’s arm. “I deserve food; I deserve good things in spite of the bad things I’ve done, and so do you. If you won’t believe it for yourself, believe it for me. I feel-- and correct me if I’m wrong-- but I feel like you’re constantly waiting for permission to stop hurting yourself. I wish you were able to see that you have nothing to pay for, and that no one, no one is requiring your self destruction to avenge some sort of wrong you’ve committed.”
Ash is crying in earnest now, loud, heart-wrenching sobs that twist at his throat and echo off of the walls. “Can you-- can you hold me?” he asks pitifully, as though asking has taken seventy years off of his life. Eiji obliges, wrapping his arms around Ash’s back, holding Ash as he rocks back and forth with the weight of his sobs. Ash crumbles, sand washed out by the sea, but Eiji holds him together, rubbing the pads of his fingers in little circles over Ash’s spine and whispering soothing words into his ear, reaffirming Ash’s humanity and giving him the space to break down.
You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re good, I promise.
Slowly, Ash’s sobs quiet to a dull murmur, Eiji continuing his gentle ministrations on Ash’s back. Ash turns his head to glance at Eiji with a watery look.
“Did you mean it?” he asks, breathless.
“I meant it all,” whispers Eiji stubbornly. “Which part, though?”
Ash hesitates. “The part about you loving me,” he finally answers.
Eiji nods wordlessly, allowing his intentions to transcend language. Sitting in the morning light of the apartment, with the sun streaming over his back, he looks stoic, serene. Ash has never loved him more.
“You shouldn’t,” Ash says, but the familiar bite is missing from his tone. He doesn’t sound assertive or angry, just sounds like an uncertain and scared little boy.
Eiji looks silently at Ash for a few moments, as though he’s choosing his next words with careful precision. When he finally speaks, his words are tender.
“You think that because of what happened to you, you’re unlovable, or undeserving of kindness. That’s not true, Ash, it’s not true. I read something the other day-- a man who claimed he loved another in spite of if not because of the violence they both experienced. Ash-- our story was never going to be linear or simple the way others’ get to be. But that doesn’t make me love you any less. I would take the messiness and the pain a million times over if it means I get to stay with you.”
Ash can feel his carefully constructed impenetrable outer shell that he’d fortified over the years to protect him begin to crack, shattering like a glass dome above his head. But the ensuing wreckage isn’t overwhelming. The broken shards don’t pierce his skin, rather sit atop his head like water droplets, light and gentle and glistening in the sunlight, promising a new day, a new beginning. Maybe loving Eiji isn’t as unfathomable as he’d previously thought. Maybe love can exist amid violence, after all.
Ash presses against Eiji, nuzzling his head in Eiji’s ridiculously bright stripy sweater, and whispers a quiet thank you against his neck. Eiji cards his fingers through Ash’s hair, and the scene is so domestic that Ash's heart wants to burst out of his chest. He can almost imagine the two of them in a world without Dino, in a world without Banana Fish, just two boys sitting in the warmth of shared company as the rosy sun climbs the top of the New York City skyline, and the morning beckons invitingly.
But that’s never going to be the life he and Eiji are going to lead, not with danger constantly biting menacingly over the horizon.
Ash reaches up to cradle Eiji’s face, fingers smoothing over the softness of his jaw and teasing at the little curls of hair that frame his face. In this moment, they don’t need words. Their silence speaks for itself, and they know each other well enough to understand each other without the weight of language. Ash doesn’t know how long they sit together, safe in each others’ arms, before Eiji finally speaks.
“Are you going to let yourself eat?” The question is loaded, and Ash pauses for a minute, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he settles.
“Right now, yes. But you know how volatile this all is, Eiji.” Eiji nods, and Ash doesn’t miss the way Eiji’s eyes stray to his side, where the scars reside under his shirt. Eiji understands, he can understand best out of anyone Ash knows. Ash presses on.
“I don’t want to make promises that I can’t keep in the future, when my mind fogs and all I can think about is Dino and what he did to me. When I can’t accept all the things you were saying, earlier.”
“That’s okay,” says Eiji, his voice as gentle as Ash has ever heard it. “I’ll remind you over and over and over again if you need me to.”
Ash nods, and somehow, things begin to feel all right. He places a tentative hand on Eiji’s back, and for a split second, Ash catches a glimpse of a future-- his future, in which he and Eiji are happy together in Japan, New York and Dino and Banana Fish all but distant memories. This is the first time he’s allowed himself to hope for a future-- he’d thought Dino had beat all his dreams out of him-- but not even Dino could have anticipated Eiji, beautiful, brilliant Eiji, who had stumbled into his life and broken down all his walls. Slowly, he wraps his other arm around Eiji, and moves closer so that their foreheads are touching. Ash is peaceful in a way he’d never thought possible. It’s going to be alright.