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It's this day again.
It seemed almost crazy to think it'd been a year already, because in Takuya's head, it felt a lot like it happened just last week. Actually, it didn't even feel like it happened at all. Somewhere in his mind, he just refused to believe that he had come dangerously close to doing that, that he had come dangerously close to dying that one, horrible night.
He sighs and continues to walk down the stairs, despite wanting to just sleep until the sun sets and forget this day ever occurred at all. It's still morning, and he wants nothing more than for this day to come to an end already.
But he knows he can't do that, no matter how tempting it sounds. He knows he can't; not when he's already promised his friends that they'd spend the day together. Besides, they had agreed on meeting here in Takuya's house.
Why did it have to be this day, of all days?
He took the last step of the stairs and saw that everyone was already there, waiting for him. The brunette smiles slightly at them, waving. "Hi guys. Sorry, did I keep you waiting?"
"No, it's okay," came Izumi's reply. "We just got here anyway. So, let's go?"
He nods, swallowing past his dry mouth. "Yeah."
Takuya walked over to them, only to stop abruptly as the cold tiles of the floor underneath touched his bare skin. It's such a familiar feeling, and yet it was all so overwhelming, too. Memories began flashing right before his eyes - memories he doesn't want to remember - as he felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, forming a heavy pit that settled like stone.
For a split second, the lights dimmed and everyone was gone. It was just him there, all alone in the midst of his own home, feeling trapped more than anything. For a split second, the silence was almost suffocating, tearing his lungs apart from the inside, and he was standing there, utterly alone as red trails down from his wrist.
For a split second, he was back there again, in that horrible, horrible memory - in that night that he just wants to forget about.
His breaths became shallow, and the pounding of his heart seemed to echo in his ears amidst all the noise. He felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Takuya? Are you okay?" Soft, blue eyes gazed at him with worry, and he swallowed, taking a step back.
"I'm fine," he says, throat dry. "I just- forgot to get something."
Before Kouji could say anything else, the brunette ran up the stairs without another word, feeling out of breath even though he'd just been standing there a minute ago.
...
Takuya runs to his room, closing the door and sitting down on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Even now, he could still feel the cold tiles of the floor of the kitchen, could still feel the sting of pain in his arm even though the cuts have already healed.
Everything was still so clear to him, as if it happened just minutes ago.
It wasn't a distant memory, something that he remembered only fragments of. It was a clear picture in his mind, sitting there in the corner like an uninvited guest that has no intention of leaving. A cruel reminder of what happened on this day last year.
A cruel reminder of when he had almost committed suicide.
He still remembers it all so clearly, from sneaking out from his bed and trying to keep quiet, to staring at the bottle of pills sitting innocently at the top of their fridge. He remembers the tears in his eyes, the bright lights of the kitchen, the cold tiles underneath his bare feet, and the uncomfortable silence that wrapped around him like vines.
He still remembers thinking of what his family and friends' reaction would've been if they had found him there, limp and lifeless at the floor of his own home, pills scattered all around him.
He feels sick just thinking about it.
It's been one year, but sometimes it feels like it happened just yesterday. It's not true what people say, that time heals all wounds. Because no matter how far you think you've gotten away from that abyss, the fear is still there, like scars that have gotten better but still sticks with you like a constant nagging at the back of your head reminding you of what had happened.
He wishes he can talk about it to someone, just to let out some of these bottled up emotions. But every time he thinks about it, his heart feels so heavy - an overwhelming, sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. Just thinking about the fact that he had almost taken his own life makes him feel nauseous.
It makes him wonder, if he had taken his own life back then, would his family and friends resent him and tell him he was selfish, for not thinking about them? Would they spend the rest of their lives blaming themselves?
If he had done it, would they still love him?
If he was already gone, would they still care?
Too many questions, and so little answers. Too many things he doesn't really want to think about.
A knock on the door snaps him out of his reverie, and Takuya stands up from where he had been sitting, blinking back the tears that he didn’t realize had formed at the corner of his eyes.
"Takuya?" came Kouji's voice from outside. "Can I come in?"
"Y-yeah," the brunette answers, cringing at how weak he sounds, and opens the door.
Kouji narrows his eyes at him, and Takuya couldn't help feeling small under his gaze. "Are you crying?"
"I'm not," he says, walking away and sitting down at his bed again to avoid the other's stare.
Kouji sighs and sits next to Takuya. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Takuya replies quickly. A bit too quickly.
"Look at me," the other says softly, holding the brunette's arm. "Please."
Hesitantly, Takuya turns around. He sees the concern in Kouji's eyes, hears the way he spoke to him in such a soft, comforting tone, and takes a shaky breath. "I- I need to tell you something."
Kouji nods, taking Takuya's hand in his and gently brushes his thumb against the other's knuckles. "Go ahead, I'm here."
"I-" he starts, and in the quiet of the room, he can practically hear the pounding of his heart against his chest.
Can he really say this? He's never told this to anyone before, and what would Kouji think, anyway? Would Kouji judge him, hate him? It wasn't like he didn't trust the other, but the fear is all so consuming, wrapping around his throat and making it hard to breathe.
Just how exactly do you say something like this to someone?
He takes a deep breath, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I...I almost committed suicide last year on this day."
"You...what?"
Of all the things Kouji thought the brunette would say, this was certainly the last thing he expected to hear.
Takuya averts his gaze, staring at the floor instead. He takes in a shaky breath, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet, laced with unshed tears. "I...I don't know. I just- everything was just so overwhelming and I didn't know what to do. It- it felt like it was the only way out..."
Kouji's eyes softened, feeling his heart break upon listening to the other's words. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Takuya - the same bright and cheery Takuya who led their group back then, who always encouraged them even when everyone was tired - were saying these words now. The boy in front of him looked so different from the Takuya that he knew. He looked so broken now, so small and so fragile, eyes filled with fear.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the brunette cries, still not looking up.
Kouji was at a loss of what to say, so instead he just leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the other. He feels Takuya stiffen in his hold, but eventually slumps against his chest, hiding his face and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hey, it's not your fault." He says softly, gently stroking the other's back. "I'm just glad you're here."
The other just cries harder, grasping at Kouji's shirt like his life depended on it. And they stayed like that for a while, surrounded by the cold silence. Throughout it all, Kouji's hold on Takuya never faltered, arms wrapped around him protectively as he ran his fingers through the former leader's hair in what he hoped was comforting.
He thought back to what Takuya had told him, and faintly wonders just how much the brunette went through to get to the point of a suicide attempt. He wonders just how lonely the other must've been during all those times.
It still hasn't completely registered in his head just how close he had gotten to losing Takuya. What would life be like without him? It scared him to think that living a life without Takuya was very much a real possibility, a possibility that had gotten dangerously close to becoming reality.
Just thinking about it makes him feel sick.
"It's okay, I'm here, I won't leave. I'm glad you're here." Kouji says again, feeling the other shake in his hold. "Are you okay now?" he asks softly, when the sobs subside, and he looks down at the brunette leaning against his chest.
Takuya looks up at him, eyes puffy and red. "I think so," he replies, voice hoarse and quiet. He looks exhausted. "What about the others?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them to cancel our plans for now."
"Sorry...even though I promised we'd go today…"
Kouji frowns. "Hey, it's okay. We can always hang out together another day. I'm sure they'll understand," he smiles, and Takuya nods hesitantly.
"Do you want to talk about it more?”
Takuya shakes his head.
“Okay, that’s all right. Do you need anything else? Water? Or do you want to rest for a bit?" he asks, gently brushing away the strands of hair covering Takuya's eyes.
The former leader simply shakes his head, burying his face against Kouji's chest again. The latter smiles, albeit fondly. "Just stay here, with me."
"Of course," Kouji says, pulling him closer. "I'll stay for as long as you need me to."