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Grief isn't a feeling anyone can simply empathize with. There’s no clear cut stages either. Grief can only be summed up by the raw, ugly feeling currently holding someone’s mind hostage.
Sometimes, grief can be bittersweet.
That’s what Chifuyu Matsuno feels right now. It's late into the night and his friends don’t look like they’ll stop drinking anytime soon. Occasionally, Chifuyu glances over at the bartender who knows full well that theyre under-aged, but is a little too scared to kick them out. A memory comes to the forefront of his mind then: him and Baji harassing a bitter liquor store owner who they caught harassing school girls at night. Chifuyu had followed Baji into the store, like he always does. Did.
With their chests puffed out they marched up to the man and beat him right then and there. Afterwards, Baji stole the nametag right off of the man and got behind the counter, scanning items as if he didn't just beat the owner into a pulp. Chifuyu remembers the ache in his ribs from laughing as customers walked out, clutching their alcohol and leaving in a hurry. Baji pulled his hair back into a sleek ponytail, calling up the next customer in the most serious voice ever, just to keep pulling at Chifuyu’s leg.
That's when Chifuyu lost it.
The memory came to Chifuyu’s mind like a flicker in a flame, gone the second it arrived. All the feelings that came with it still lingered for a bit though, just as smoke would. To his right, Hakkai started waving his hand in front of Chifuyu's face.
“You still with us?”
Chifuyu blinked once, then twice. “Oh, yea why?”
“Whaddya mean why ,” Takemichi slurred across from him. Chifuyu couldn't help but stare at the snot running down his nose. He was impossibly drunk.
“You're doin that look off into space… smiley thingy agaimmf-”
Takemichi’s head hit the table, much to everyone's amusement. Chifuyu on the other hand froze. He hadn't realized he was smiling.
The rest of the night was a blur after that.
Other days, grief was vivid. It came in the stickiness of summer heat, or in the wooden taste of popsicle sticks. The eroded straps of his backpack. The spelling errors of his kouhais in school. Grief was everywhere and anywhere.
It was on these days that Chifuyu would just feel it. He would leave a space on the sidewalk on his way home, as if Baji were right by him. Always walking on the outer edge because Baji hated the hot wind of car engines as they drove past.
Chifuyu would let himself imagine Baji’s boisterous laugh or the way his eyes would close when he smiled. Strangers passing him by would think him a bit odd, walking on the far edge of the sidewalk and constantly picking something at his wrist. Chifuyu couldn't care any less though. It wasn't many days where he’d let himself remember the smaller details of Baji like this.
His friend's old hair tie sat on his wrist now. The faint sting on his skin each time he pulled the rubber back and let go was a nice reminder that he was here.
Chifuyu is here and alive, while Baji is anything but.
Grief can also be suffocating. Chifuyu feels this the most when he’s reminded that he’s not the only one suffering. At Toman meetings, Mikey’s eyes scan the crowd and Chifuyu never misses the slight falter in his gaze as he looks past Chifuyu. Chifuyu, standing at the front of the 1st division, right where Baji would always be too, with his chin up and jaw locked.
Chifuyu would always steal glances at him and Baji would pretend not to notice. At least until he’d time Chifuyu’s glances in time with a wink. Flustered, annoyed, bashful, those were all feelings he’d have in response to Baji’s teasing. Chifuyu would give anything to experience that again. Anything to not see the hollow look in Mikey’s eyes. Looking to the floor never helped either, the phantom imprint of Baji’s boots would just stare back.
Before Chifuyu’s family moved, going home was the worst part. He never went home alone, not from school, not from fights, and not when he went to hang out with the rest of their gang. Baji was always by his side, only parting ways when he went up to the fifth floor of their building and Chifuyu the second. Aftwr it happened, Chifuyu would stay out as late as possible, kicking it at Takemichi’s house or tagging along on other division’s agendas. When he eventually did make it home, he’d be too tired to feel anything as he took the stairs up.
Baji's mother moved too, and Chifuyu couldn't blame her. Living in a once loud and lively home would take its toll on anyone. Before she left the city, she invited Chifuyu over to sort through Baji's things and take anything he wanted.
Entering the all too familiar room, Chifuyu went through the robotic motions of sorting Baji’s things. His mother had kept all the important things, but all the not-so-important-but-still-important items were being offered to Chifuyu first.
So he gingerly picked up Baji’s DVD collection, putting them away in order of genre. That wasn't too difficult when they were all old fight movies. He also picked up Baji's journals and notebooks. Despite his school performance Baji actually liked writing. On colder days, the two of them used to sit on this floor and write concept stories, joking about being manga artists someday. The notebooks also had unwritten letters, some to Kazutora, and some to Chifuyu himself, despite the fact that he would see Baji everyday.
When Chifuyu had everything in a shabby box, he stood by the genkan not knowing what to say. Baji's mom, who always looked so youthful, looked as if she'd aged ten years in such a short amount of time. All the painful conversations they needed to have already happened. Chifuyu had watched this woman breakdown and repair herself over and over again. Now that she was leaving for good he wouldn't see her anymore, but he would try to visit often anyways.
She patted his head once, telling Chifuyu to take care. A painful lump formed in the back of his throat before he nodded and left his best friends home one last time. Chifuyu only let the tears fall when he was back in his own home, just two levels below.
Grief could also be fantastical. Only in the slow, sensual way that memories formed and disappeared in one's subconscious. Baji was on Chifuyu’s mind before he slept and right before he woke up. Dreamy memories of what was and what could’ve been oftentimes followed him. In his murky sleep, Chifuyu basks in the feeling.
The juxtaposition between Baji’s forwardness and his shy tendencies was always fascinating to Chifuyu. He dreams about a time a few months after they had first met, where the two of them had skipped class. The music room they were sitting in was illuminated by the sunlight reflecting off all the dust in the air. Baji had been quiet for the most part, not talking much even as Chifuyu sat by him correcting his homework. At this point Chifuyu could pick up on Baji’s moods pretty well, and although he didn't yet understand the full scope of Baji’s past, he understood that he was feeling melancholy.
After twenty more minutes, Baji rose from his mood, shuffling around where he sat. Chifuyu paid no mind as he continued to write. When Baji couldn't sit still that meant he was in a better mood, so that's all that mattered.
“How’d I do?”
Chifuyu looked up. “Your worst yet,” he snickered. Baji let out a dramatic sigh before leaning back.
Chifuyu didn't miss his lack of eye contact. That was another thing Baji did sometimes, but the reason was unknown to Chifuyu.
He leaned back too, so he was sitting shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh with Baji. Baji hunched his own shoulder a bit soon after.
Chifuyu felt like teasing him, and it's what prompted him to finally ask.
“What is it?”
“What is what?”
“Why don't you look at me sometimes?”
“Eh?” Baji turned his head. Chifuyu counted to 4 before Baji averted his eyes again. His pupils danced around Chifuyu’s face within that time frame, never actually looking at him.
“That. You just did it dumbass.” Chifuyu smiled.
“It's nothing.” Baji said this casually as if his physicality didn't point to signs of nervousness.
“Tell me.”
Baji sighed again, tilting his head against the wall. He peeked one eye open to look at Chifuyu, light from the window casting sharp shadows along his face.
“Sometimes you're too pretty. It's hard to look at you y’know?”
Chifuyu’s first instinct was to laugh it off, but he knew when Baji was being serious. Chifuyu’s mouth opened and closed, searching for words that didn't exist. This went on for a minute as he leaned back, an incredulous look on his face.
Baji only grinned at him. That grin where his eyes closed and a sharp tooth stuck out.
Eventually Chifuyu resorted to punching him, immediately regretting it once he realized he was acting like a schoolgirl.
“Who- who just says shit like that? Huh?” The high pitch of his voice wasn't helping his case either.
“What’s the matter with you? You embarrassed?” Baji squinted at him.
Chifuyu sat up on his knees, throwing half hearted punches at Baji's arm.
“Oi, you asked, didn't you?”
The memory faded to black, all the uniqueness of that moment transitioning into something comforting.
Something Chifuyu’s mind thought about even when he wasn't sleeping. The feeling of wind ripping through his hair and corduroy fabric against his cheek. The roar of Baji’s bike was loud, and the vanishing sounds of the city even louder, but when Chifuyu hugged him from the back like this, he swore he could hear Baji’s heartbeat loud and clear. Chifuyu didn't know what it meant to be pretty , and he didn't understand what it meant when Baji called him that. But when he looked up over his friend's shoulder, catching his crinkled eyes through the side mirror, Chifuyu believed that was what it meant to feel pretty .
Baji was physical to the point that one could question their relationship- whether or not they were just friends. Chifuyu knew their relationship was always a bit different, different from Baji and Mikey’s or anyone else in Toman for that matter. It made Chifuyu feel special, and he would chase those moments where Baji's attention would be solely on him .
Sure Baji wasn't good at eye contact, but he would grab Chifuyu from behind and blow on his ears whenever he wanted attention. When they were on the train together, Baji would stand in front of Chifuyu, giving them a tiny bubble of privacy.
Chifuyu would tease him then about his taste in cologne and how it made him smell like an old man. In reality though, he loved the scent and loved how the occasional turns of the train would make Baji lean in closer till their chests touched.
That's all it ever was though, small instances where they’d touch either by circumstance or Baji’s intention, then they were gone before Chifuyu knew it. They never held hands, but Baji would clutch Chifuyu’s wrist when he was dragging him somewhere, thumb tracing circles into his skin. They never hugged, but Baji would find any excuse to carry Chifuyu bridal-style as a joke.
Of all these happenings, the memory Chifuyu dreamt of the most was the first and only time the two of them ever kissed. Playing with Baji’s hair was something Chifuyu liked to do in their idle time, whenever the two of them were sprawled on the floor of Baji’s room with nothing to do. At first, it felt a little too intimate, but once Chifuyu got over the initial embarrassment of asking, it became a recurring thing for the both of them. Baji enjoyed it too, the way his eyes fluttered shut whenever Chifuyu ran his fingers through his scalp was a clear indicator.
Chifuyu doesn't remember what they were talking about beforehand, but he had been pressing Baji about some issue. Baji kept blowing it off and changing the subject, much to Chifuyu’s dismay.
“Hey I’m being serious here,” Chifuyu muttered. The two of them lay on the hard floor despite the fact that there was a bed right next to them. The giant pillow they were both resting their heads on was all they really needed.
“And I’m saying to just let it go,” Baji said to the cieling.
Chifuyu pulled at a chunk of Baji's hair from where he’d been playing with it, just to get some sort of final say before dropping the subject. It didn't make him any less annoyed though.
Chifuyu rested his palm on Baji's face then, physically turning his head so that they were face to face. The endearing way Baji’s cheek smushed against the pillow wasn't enough to distract Chifuyu from their sudden proximity. All his bravado suddenly disappeared.
When he spoke again, it came out as a soft whisper instead of the scolding tone he had initially intended.
“You can at least look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Baji looked a bit stunned, suddenly focusing on Chifuyu so intently that it was Chifuyu’s turn to look away. Their faces were a mere two inches apart now.
He doesn't know who moved first. Their shared breaths and the sudden intimacy seeping it's way into the air seemed to pull the two of them together like magnets. Their kiss was soft, barely a brush. Chifuyu turned on his side, cupping Baji's face. Their eyes held unspoken words that vanished as Baji pulled Chifuyu slightly on top of him, kissing him a bit more deeply this time.
Chifuyu had never kissed anyone before, but it definitely felt like Baji had. He wasn't sure if he was doing any of this right but the hands Baji placed at the nape of his neck, gripping him loosely, spurred Chifuyu on.
They kissed like that for the rest of the evening, till all Chifuyu knew was the soft slide of their lips and the goosebumps dancing across their skin.
Baji was the first person Chifuyu ever admired. He was loud and strong, a character that came to life. In that tender moment though, Chifuyu never knew Baji could be so soft.
As the blaring sound of his alarm woke him up, Chifuyu sat in his bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He always felt a little lighter when he had such clear dreams of Baji. It made him feel every reminder less intensely for the rest of the day.
Before he left the house, Chifuyu tied Baji's old hair tie around his wrist. Sometimes he just needed a reminder.
Chifuyu could write a dozen books on the different kinds of grief he’s felt. In all honesty, it seems like its a never ending cycle. Some days he's okay. Chifuyu is able to laugh with his friends and find happiness in mundane things. Those are the days when he's healthy and coping.
Every so often he doesn't seem to function quiet right. Chifuyu will talk to himself alone in his room, out in public, or in the quiet of abandoned roads. Sometime’s he'll talk to Baji too, as if he were listening. The few times others have caught him doing that, theyve tried to encourage him that Baji was actually listening. They’d use words like “ he’s out there somewhere ” or “ Baji’s watching over us now ”.
None of that was true though. Chifuyu only talked to himself like this for his own pain. He was well aware that others in Toman, Takemichi, Mitsuya, and especially Mikey, were fond of describing Baji’s passing like that. Mikey will sometimes mention Baji leading him to a conclusion or a decision.
It was fine. Everyone had their own unique relationship with Baji. But the truth was, Chifuyu hated it. He’d been perhaps the most levelheaded after Baji's passing, but his inner turmoil was a violent storm.
Chifuyu hated others’ euphemisms. If it helped them cope, it was fine, but Chifuyu knew he was just as in the right to despise it all.
Baji wasn't listening in on their conversations. He wasn't watching over them, telling them to follow a path or make certain decisions. Baji didn't “pass away” or “leave” them. Baji was dead.
He’s no longer with them in a literal sense. Nobody seems to remember that. Chifuyu doesn't think he’s ever heard the words “Baji died” come out of anyone else's mouth but his own.
So on those days when Chifuyu doesn't function quiet right, he’s almost like the elastic in Baji’s hair tie. Worn down from use and on the edge of eventually snapping, and Chifuyu always does. When he breaks down on days like this, he breaks down hard.
The worst form of grief is the selfish kind, when you begin to bitterly take it out on others who don't deserve it, others who are hurting too. It’s the kind where you don't care for yourself, seeking out fights and letting loose in the worst way possible.
How selfish Chifuyu could be, holding on to the frayed memories of a person who would hate to see him like this