Chapter Text
Kazutora wasn’t one to remember a lot of things. Especially when it came to his childhood. Especially that. Every time he tried to call back on it, he always drew a blank except for two things: a raised first and the terror on his mother. Then, Kazutora remembered that destruction was what his home was.
His face was aching, tears almost icy against his burning skin. He pushed himself against the wall. He remembered cold hands grabbing his face. And those eyes full of desperation.
“Kazutora. Are you on your dad’s side? Or are you on my side?”
He doesn’t know.
His father bent down to pick up his glasses. Kazutora’s heartbeat thunders in his eardrums. The house is broken; pictures barely hanging by their frames, vases shattered along the floor, tables overthrown. And there was his mother, face bruised with dried blood by her lips.
“You can’t choose both. You have to choose either one.”
He knows that.
He knows he can’t be selfish.
Kazutora knew his mother and himself couldn’t find sympathy for either of them. He thinks that it’s because they’ve grown used to it.
He has learned the awful truth: people grow immune to cruelty.
Now Kazutora stands before the body in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears, the same way it did years ago. His heart thudded in his chest, enough to feel like it’s going to break him.
His hands shook. His vision blurred, as if it was static itself. He clutched the bolt cutter — his hands clenched so tightly around it that his nails dug into his palms.
“It wasn’t me!” he said shrilly.
His hands shook more.
“It wasn’t me! There’s no way I would have done it!”
God, believe him. This whole thing couldn’t be real. Kazutora couldn’t have killed Shinichiro.
He couldn’t have. Believe him. Shinichiro was Mikey’s older brother, his precious family member. There was no way he’d do that to Mikey. He wasn’t the same as his father. He does not think about hurting others. Mikey was someone dear and precious to him.
Kazutora did this for Mikey. So it was his fault.
It wasn’t Kazutora.
It wasn’t him. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
It wasn’t me, Kazutora repeated in his head, just as much as it felt like his skin was on fire.
Breathing was hard. Like he was under water. It wasn’t his fault. It was Mikey’s fault, not him.
That’s right.
He couldn’t think.
It wasn’t me.
He couldn’t think straight. It felt like something was being pulled from inside Kazutora’s head. Like he was bleeding like Shinichiro. Blood ran hot in his veins. He was in a bad dream.
“Kazutora!”
Baji. Oh, Baji. In the darkness, Kazutora could barely make out his dear friend’s frantic eyes. They looked like they had been caught in headlights. Like a deer. He reached out, only for his hand to brush against nothing. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
“Let’s call the ambulance and get the hell out!” Baji screamed.
“I was doing it for Mikey.” Kazutora’s tongue weighed heavily in his mouth. Was he already dead after all?
“So why… Why did this happen?”
He knew why. It was because he loved Mikey more than anyone.
A loud whining sound echoed outside. Sirens.
“Shit! The cops are here!” Baji whipped his head to Kazutora. “Let’s just get out of here! Come on!”
Even if Kazutora wanted to move, it felt like the very earth had stopped him from running. His mouth was dry. Tears barely stopped themselves from falling over the edge of his eyes. Was there no hope after all? Was he and that deer caught in the headlights really the one and same? Was he doomed to die before he could be something more?
“Kazutora?”
Baji’s voice was shaking.
“This is all Mikey’s fault, so I…” The tears fell down uncontrollably. “I’ve got to kill Mikey.”
Silence.
Once upon a time Kazutora believed that his parents would stay together forever. But that was pointless. His father ripped his dream apart. He showed Kazutora that love was only conditional when you give something back. Junpeke was the same. Kazutora thought his friends would stay forever with him. Because that’s what friends do. But they betrayed him.
But then, an arm wrapped around him. Kazutora’s eyes widened. Baji hadn’t left. His dear friend hadn’t. The world was ending but he gently pushed Kazutora’s head into his shoulder. It was warm. He thought that this might be the affection and love he’s always wanted.
“Don’t say something… so depressing,” Baji cried. “No matter what kind of hell awaits us, I’m with you, til the end!”
Kazutora closed his eyes.
It was all a dream, just a dream.
A bad dream.
The sound of bone breaking, the sight of a man lying on the floor unmoving, and the rusty smell of blood was engraved into Kazutora’s head. The clothes he wore was an unfamiliar skin on him, as if he was pretending to be someone else. He doesn’t belong in it.
He thinks that he died that day as well.
.
.
.
Kazutora learns that that love is a choice until it isn’t. You can’t choose to feel love when it’s not given to you, nor can you force someone to love you, just like how you can’t really force yourself to love someone you don’t. You can love until the decision is ripped away from you.
His mother didn’t love him enough to stop him from going to juvenile. She had only stared at him in tears as they took him away into the car. Mikey was nowhere to be seen. And even if he was, Kazutora had promised to kill him. They could fall to hell together like that. Because that’s what friends do. And Baji, oh Baji, was the only one who chased after him; if there was any that remained. He was the only one who stayed.
Kazutora spent his days in juvie like a dead man. He only moved when had to and ate when his stomach hurted. He stared at the walls, at the ceiling, at the cracks of the white paint till he felt like his eyes were going to be torn off. Sometimes he got into fights with kids there.
They’d rip at each other’s hair and break each other’s skin, and for a moment Kazutora felt like he was back when he was a child; being the target for his father’s anger.
He doesn’t know who he was or who he should be. He could remember a time when he was aware of who he was but that time feels distant. And when he wants a break from it all, he sleeps.
The days blurred.
He moved through time, unfeeling and indifferent. Even when he got into fights, the fists connecting to those obscured faces felt like he was just watching a movie.
Unfeeling and monotonous.
That was how his days went.
Kazutora couldn’t tell the days apart anymore.
Then suddenly one day he got a letter. It wasn’t from his mom. It was from Baji.
“Baji?” he whispered. The name tasted familiar on his tongue. It tasted… right.
Letters.
They came day by day, one by one.
Messy handwriting and many corrections that talked about school and fun things soon became the light of those gloomy days. Kazutora could finally feel like he was breathing again.
“Kazutora guess what? I had a test today and actually passed for the first time.”
“I got held back by a grade. Shit. I should’ve studied more. My mom was so scary when she got mad at me. I know what you’re thinking. I’ll try to do better this year so don’t you dare laugh at me!”
“I read the book you recommended. It’s great! I really liked it. I'm gonna use it for my school project.”
“Hey, Kazutora. It’s been a while. There’s this cat that’s been stealing food from my place…”
Most of them were the mundane things about Baji’s life. Sometimes it was a doodle of something; at the bottom, paper folded and sealed with a bit of glue so no one would see it. They were misshapen and Kazutora had to play a guessing game as to what it was. Even then it was enough to make him smile. It became a small secret between Kazutora and Baji.
In juvie anything could be the smallest solace for him to have. He looked forward to reading those letters. He’d stay up late until morning and skip meals just to reread all the letters all over again, all the while thinking of replies to send back.
In this world, it always felt like Kazutora was against all of them by himself. His father never bothered to keep him around, and his mother never wanted anything to do with him. Junpeke betrayed him too. Everyone did. No one loved Kazutora. Except one.
It wasn’t that scary anymore.
Because Baji is the only one who’d understand him.
Baji is reliable.
Baji loves him.
Baji.
Baji.
Baji.
“Baji,” Kazutora whispered.
The paper he was writing on was fully covered in Baji’s name, written over and over again until it was an unreadable mess. Kazutora gripped the pencil harder, until it hurt him.
“ No matter what kind of hell awaits us, I’m with you, til the end!”
He slowly let go of the pencil.
Even though it’s been a year, those words had kept him going in this scary world. He’s been alone for too long. That’s why Kazutora won’t let Baji go. He adored him too much to let go now.
.
.
.
Two years.
That was how long Kazutora waited before he was let go from that hellhole. His mother told him that she wasn’t going to pick him up, that he should go home by himself from “that shameful place”.
Fine, he told himself. Just fine.
And really it was.
The first thing he saw when he came out between those doors was the vast blue sky, somehow bigger than it ever was, and Baji. He stopped in his tracks. It was like a dream. Kazutora couldn’t believe that Baji was right there in front of him.
Baji had long hair now, and Kazutora instinctively reached out to touch it. It swept over his shoulders.
“Surprised?” Baji grinned when he did, arms crossed over his chest. He leaned against his bike.
“Yeah.” Kazutora smiled. “It fits you.”
The sensation of Baji’s hair lingered on his fingers.
The first thing Kazutora did when he and Baji arrived at his house was to check his room. As soon as he stepped inside, he started thrashing the bookshelves. Those neat rows of books came tumbling down like his life. He threw them aside before stepping on them, wishing that he could tear them apart but knew he was too attached to do so.
His mother wasn’t at home. She never had been, and that made Kazutora angry enough to throw everything away.
His eyes stung as he searched through the clothes inside his closet. The floor soon was covered in heaps of fabric. Toman uniform, his school uniform, and the clothes his mother picked for him to feel and look like a normal person, someone that wasn’t fuck up in the head yet.
He didn’t want to remember anything about the days before juvenile.
Was it painful?
Or could he not remember them anymore?
He doesn’t know. He never does.
(There was never a time he could catch a memory among the other hundreds.
There was no use in trying anyway, he learns later. He counts the minutes and hours it’ll take until the moments fade and he’s left with nothing but phantom pains across his skin. Then he’d lay awake as the ugly feelings and guilt eats him alive.)
In an instant, his room became a mess and so was Kazutora. He was seeing red and he was sure that if he had been more pissed, he might’ve started punching the walls until his knuckles bleed. Instead he grabbed the things on his table: pencils, boxes, more books, and glass. He hurled them against the wall, the sound ringing throughout the room.
Baji tried to stop him but easily stepped back with a cold glare. Piercing yellow eyes gave him a warning look, not exactly at his face, but at something farther away.
Maybe looking at something Baji couldn’t see.
.
.
.
And when Kazutora’s mom came back, they got into an argument; enough to start yelling at each other. He only noticed his mistake when she slapped him. They left each other alone after that, and Kazutora went to buy dinner from the convenience store. He ended up eating in the park nearby, staring at the moon and letting the night breeze caress his face.
Kazutora went to check on his mother later. The door to her room was firmly closed, but the wooden barrier wasn’t enough to conceal the sounds of crying. He didn’t feel sorry.
He never did.
He wonders absentmindedly if he was becoming like his dad — the one and only person he wished he could kill.
.
.
.
Kazutora barely remembers anything about the beach.
The marble floor was ice-cold as he slowly walked across, careful to avoid the corners of tables and legs of chairs. His shadows followed behind closely, slanted from the bare streetlight. It was barely beyond four o’clock at that point, too early in the morning for anyone to be awake. Even his own mother. He made sure of it.
He went to the front door to put on his shoes. His mother must’ve exhausted herself today because Kazutora didn’t hear her door open as he stepped out, closing it as silently as he could.
The corridor was kind of cold and he exhaled once, wrapping his jacket around him tighter.
Baji was waiting for him beyond the apartment doors; by his bike that he wouldn’t shut up about in his letters.
“Hey,” Baji greeted.
It was disarming, and Kazutora found himself also grinning.
When they arrived at the beach, Baji didn’t wait for Kazutora. He ran towards the sea laughing, hair flicking behind him. Kazutora watched from a distance.
He stared at Baji for a moment before looking down at the steps. His face still stung from where his mother slapped him. Slowly, he bent down to take off his shoes and socks, wiggling his toes before he stepped into sand. The sand was soft under him.
It still felt warm.
Almost like a child, he took one step forward and another. It’s really weird, he thinks.
He looked at the sun shining in the distance.
Wind ruffled his hair, covering his vision in the colors of sunset and black of his hair. It’s been about two years since he last came out, and this time he didn’t need to worry about anything. Back in juvie, it was almost like war everyday. He’d be ganged up just for breathing and when he does fight back, he’d be punished by the prison guards.
He tucked his hair behind his ear. He stares at the distance. Just like that? Could he just… do whatever he wanted?
It felt too easy. Too easy to the point something gnawed at his gut.
“Oi! Kazutora! Why are you barefoot!?” Baji yelled as he ran back.
“I wanted to feel it!” Kazutora yelled back loud enough for the other to hear.
Baji was by his side in seconds. “Does it feel good?” he asked, a little breathless. He scrunched his nose a little. “It looks uncomfortable to me though.”
Kazutora hummed. “It’s surprisingly pretty nice.”
He then put an arm around Baji, flashing a grin. “But hey, it’s not nice doing it alone. Come on, take yours off too. We gotta play in the ocean. That’s what we’re here for isn’t it?”
As if they read each other’s mind, they tried to push each other into the sand and raced to the sea, all the while laughing and cursing as they shoved each other. The smell of the sea, the waves crashing against the shore, the way the wind blew. It felt so good that Kazutora almost forgot what he was doing in the first place.
From where they are, the water was shallow. It only reached their knees and was cold in the morning air.
It was Baji who first bent down to cup water and throw it at Kazutora. He yelped at the sensation, jerking. Kazutora sputtered, wiping the salty water out of his stinging eyes.
“You little shit-!”
Kazutora threw back water at Baji and missed by an inch.
“Your aim sucks!”
Baji started to run. Kazutora gritted his teeth.
“Fuck off!” he yells, chasing after the other closely.
Kazutora easily caught up with Baji in a few steps. They started wrestling, trying to stop the other from toppling them. It didn’t take too long for them to fall down and struggle in the water instead. It defeated the purpose, but Kazutora didn’t mind. Cold prickled their skin, groaning as they hit each other jokingly.
When they got tired, they stopped fighting and laid on their backs
Baji was laughing, so was Kazutora, and they were both laughing like a pair of maniacs. As they coughed and choked on swallowed salt water, Kazutora figured yeah.
It really was the best feeling he felt that week.
Even as their nostrils burn from inhaling water and stomachs hurt from laughter, they were still howling, as if the whole situation was the funniest thing — and maybe it was.
.
.
.
Their voices finally faded as they calmed down. The two of them laid down like that, close enough for their shoulders to be touching. Sand was stuck to patches of their skin. Kazutora giggled while he clutched his stomach, trying to catch his breath.
Kazutora moved his head to the side. Baji was definitely out of breath, panting. His hair was stuck to his forehead and one side of his cheek with the sunlight lighting his face.
Ah, Kazutora thought. Baji’s face isn’t half bad.
“So you’re held back at school, huh?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “How’s that coming along? Got any luck with befriending the juniors that you’re stuck with?”
“Asshole! I told you to shut up about it! Want me to kill you!?” Baji snapped with no real heat. He gripped his hair as he groaned. “Damn it! You wouldn’t believe how terrifying my mom was when she scolded me! I nearly cried that day!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Kazutora snorted. “I’m also held back. We’re buddies in these struggling times.”
He looked back at the sky, which was slowly glowing with the rising sun.
“I’ll be alone huh. How troublesome.”
“Hah!” Baji snorted. “Sucks to be you! I already got a friend!”
Kazutora felt his mouth twitch.
“It’s the guy who happened to be the owner of the cat. Turns out he’s also my neighbor!”
Kazutora’s lips turned to a frown. “Oh.”
What?
He closed his hands into a fist, digging his nails into his palm. Baji has someone? Other than me?
Somehow, the world felt like it was collapsing just a little.
“Shit, man! I’m so hungry! I totally forgot to eat dinner last night,” Baji suddenly complained. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly and his face turned pink.
“Not a word,” he warned. “Not a single word.”
Kazutora smiled. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s get something to eat then.”
“There’s a store nearby,” Baji grunted. “They got good stuff.”
They started walking back t after they were dry enough. That reminded Kazutora. It had been so long since he last went to the beach. Not since after the incident. He frowned. When they reached the spot, Baji’s bike was parked in the middle of a parking lot. He doesn’t know what came over him. He gingerly touched the handle as if it would electrocute him.
“You wanna drive it?” Baji asked.
Kazutora flinched.
“Huh?” he blinked.
“You’ve been looking at it for some time now, you know. If you want to, go for it, Kazutora.”
A pause.
“Just don’t crash us,” he added with a crooked smile.
Kazutora almost didn’t let him finish. He got on the bike, pushed back the kickstand, and wrapped his fingers around the handles. Everything in his body was finding its places where they needed to be, all actions imprinted into him by habit.
Baji got on the seat behind. The bike shifted under their weight.
Kazutora’s breath stifled when Baji wrapped his arms around his waist. He could only hope the other didn’t hear it.
“You ready?” Kazutora asked instead. His ears were warm.
“Yeah,” Baji grunted.
The rumbling of the engine beneath Kazutora was all too familiar. He hummed along to a tune as he drove through the highways. Baji’s cheek was against his back the whole trip, his body warm and comfortable to feel. Kazutora’s earlier unpleasant feeling had nearly disappeared, replaced with this electric-like feeling in his chest.
The whole time they talked. About a lot of things. Things that couldn’t be sent over letters to juvie and vice versa. If someone asked him what they talked about, he probably wouldn’t recall.
And you know what? Kazutora’s cheeks hurt from grinning so much. He was happy.
Maybe that’s really what mattered.
.
.
.
The dark sky was turning light blue fast. Traffic had started to happen, but as they always do, Baji and Kazutora snaked through the gaps between cars. Baji behind him piped up with directions and Kazutora steered the vehicle to follow whatever route the boy wanted. With a squeal of tires, they came to a stop near an alleyway; right next to a shop.
When Baji got off, Kazutora instantly missed the warmth. He put a hand to where Baji had held him.
An old guy was sleeping behind the shop’s counter when they came in. Baji gestured his chin at the sight. Kazutora snickered, but he nodded. What’s wring with a little crime, right? He didn’t care. He walked through the shop, picking several things off the shelves. Baji said to get the sandwiches, so that’s exactly what he did.
Few minutes later, when he was sure he had enough food to fill stomach, Kazutora followed Baji out of the place.
“We should take a walk,” the boy said, popping the cap open off a soda. “They can’t catch us like that.”
“I guess,” Kazutora laughed. “Baji, you’re an asshole, you know?”
“I’ve changed since you last saw me.” Baji’s copper eyes glanced at him. “What about? You’re finally out of juvie. You’re different, I can tell. We should celebrate next time.”
Kazutora took a big bite out of his sandwich and said sure.
Said they can do whatever he wants.
Back in juvie, Kazutora lived like a dead man, he didn’t remember how many fights he’s gotten into, or how many bruises he got or how many times his skin turned red from hitting others. He doesn’t care. He’s not the type to. But it’s different now. Something’s weird. He knows deep down something in him cracked after what Baji said.
It’s a fun day today. Kazutora doesn’t remember the last time he’s enjoyed himself like this.
Fear.
Kazutora slowed down as Baji walked ahead, lost in whatever he’s talking about. He put a hand over his chest. His heart was beating fast. Much more than normal. The hair on the back of his neck rose.
Something’s wrong.
He knows it.
He can’t do anything about it.
Kazutora swallowed. His feet were like concrete, dragging them as he walked to catch up with Baji.
Without wanting to, his hand clenched and uncleaned by his side. He forced it to stop. He can’t let Baji think he’s being weird. Not when they’re having such a fun time like this.
I’m okay, he thinks, blinking hard, like it hurts.
There’s nothing wrong with me.
His eyes started to blur. Not enough oxygen. Not enough air in his lungs; in his head. Everything was spinning. Kazutora forced his heart to slow but it only seemed to only make it worse. Saliva collected in his mouth. He felt like he was going to vomit.
It hurts so much, he thought, eyes nearing tears.
Why?
There’s nothing wrong with me, so why-
Kazutora wasn’t paying attention anymore. The next thing he knew, his foot tripped over a raised ground and he saw the world turn upside down. Pain shoots up his spine as he hits the sidewalk with a sharp thud , the impact scraping his palms.
“Ugh— ow,” he muttered, wincing as he sat up. God, that was embarrassing, he thought.
“Kazutora!”
Kazutora looked up to see Baji immediately kneeling before him. Wide copper eyes, open mouth, shaking and trembling hands. He reached out to touch Kazutora, softly, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. It didn’t take much for him to realize Baji was scared.
A hand appeared in front of Kazutora. Dazed, he grasps it and is quickly pulled to his feet.
“You’re- you’re okay, right, Kazutora?” Baji asked, eyes full of panic. He brushed a finger against Kazuotra’s hand. He was jerkish, and looked like he was nearing tears. “You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Kazutora smiled to show it was all good. He didn’t mention how their hands were interlinked.
Baji faltered before hesitantly smiling too. It didn’t go unnoticed by Kazutora. He still could see he was shaken up.
It wasn’t right.
It didn’t feel right.
Kazutora knew he wasn’t supposed to like it, but he thinks that the expression was a good look on Baji. He turned away and snorted at the sight of the fallen sandwich.
“What a waste,” he shook his head before placing a hand on Baji’s shoulders. “Come on.”
Ever since Kazutora was out of juvie, he clung onto Baji anytime they were together, hanging off his shoulders in every chance he got. It felt so natural even with the two years between them. Like it was something he had to do. A habit maybe. Because if he didn’t, there was something going to eat his mind for as long as it lasted.
After that accident Kazutora knew something was different with himself. He became terrified at everything, crying and sobbing when the nights were long and he was stuck in these nightmares, unable to get out of it. He would wake up panting, the remains of the dream still in his eyes and he’d bite back the tears from falling down.
“Hey, Baji.” Kazutora linked their arms together. “You won’t leave me right?”
Baji turned pale. “...I won’t.”
He grabbed Kazutora’s arm a little tighter. “I won’t, so I’ll protect you.”