Work Text:
You were the better part
Of every bit of beating heart that I had
Whatever I had
I finally sat alone
He remembers something akin to this. An atmosphere coated in a feeling of deep sorrow, hushed whispers eventually chased away by a stiffening silence, tapping feet, and an unexplainable cold that would fill the room.
It’s laughable how he can’t chase these memories away anymore, no matter how much he tries. They keep replaying in the back of his mind like a broken recorder and he can’t stop them. Would he even want to? Even though they are painful, even though they tear his heart apart, piece by piece, they are still memories of him . He cannot ever throw away anything related to the other, cannot ever allow himself to forget, cannot ever stop being in pain with every breath he takes.
It’s too similar. Just like back then, when it was her , who he mourned with each of his gasping breaths. It all repeats itself now. Fate is a cruel companion. It keeps on taking and taking from him, giving nothing back, never atoning. He’s left with everything he desires ripped away from him just in a single moment. And isn’t that hilarious? They all vanish so quickly. So unrealistic . One day he was just sitting on the couch in the living room, grinning about a comic he was reading, and the next day his body fell to the ground with a squashing sound as blood splashed every—
Hajime bites his lips and shakes his head, trying to blink the forming tears away. No. No. Nonononono —he doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to remember the discomfiting silence that filled their headquarters the days after. The way everyone kept avoiding the other’s gazes, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong—and they almost got away with it. Almost made it past the funeral without acknowledging that there shouldn’t have been a funeral in the first place. But there was. It’s then that the situation dawned on them, that reality started to catch up. Days after the funeral, the first one of them had a breakdown.
It was Sanzu.
That night, they woke up to crashing sounds in the living room and incomprehensible yelling. Curses, swear words, threats—everything got its turn. They rushed down to check out what was happening, some of them clearly only having woken up whilst others seemed like they hadn't slept in days. But each of them kept gazing at Sanzu with concern… and something else. Something conflicting. Something quite like denial and yet different enough not to be it.
It’s only when Sanzu picked up a chair and hurled it against the kitchen counter that everyone reacted. Ran immediately rushed to clutch him in his arms, attempting to keep him from picking up stuff, ignoring the kicks aimed at his legs as Takeomi rushed out of the room to get something. They tried to talk him down. They did, but nothing would work, and he kept on cursing. Kept on yelling.
And then he started to cry.
That’s when everything went to shit. Suddenly, Rindou was kneeling on the floor, sobbing as well whilst his brother watched him, unable to let go of Sanzu but obviously pained at not being able to comfort his brother. Instead, Kakucho walked up to him, drawing him into a hug. Minutes later, Takeomi rushed in with something.
(A sedative, he later realized with dread. They never used sedatives on him before. Their boss forbade them from using them on Sanzu.)
That night they all stayed up, Sanzu clutching onto Ran, saying nothing more after getting drugged.
At some point, Mochi passed out a bottle of alcohol, and they all drank quietly.
The next day, they avoided each other.
Never before in his life has Hajime felt as sick as he did that day.
Footsteps.
Multiple ones.
Hajime lifts his head slightly, using his shirt’s sleeve to wipe the tears away. He doesn’t look up wholly. Doesn’t want to see the framed picture of him staring back at him. Voices slowly filter through, and he narrows his eyes slightly. He recognizes them. Apprehension fills his stomach as he realizes what is about to happen. He shouldn’t have expected anything else, yet the resentment builds up in him despite that. How could it not? Not after everything that has happened, not after all the times, he’s caught his boss bawling his eyes out at the thought of them.
Kakucho calls out to him upon entering the room. “Koko… have you been here the whole day?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps his mouth shut and says nothing, waiting for the inevitable fallout the moment the newcomers speak up.
They shouldn’t be there. They don’t deserve to be there. Not after how much they kept taking from him .
“This… grave,” a person speaks up, “is that…?”
Hajime digs his fingers into the cloth of his pants but doesn’t react otherwise. He won’t be the one to tell them. He won’t be the one to give them any knowledge.
Kakucho sighs, instead choosing to answer the others. “Yes… it’s his grave.”
His. His. His.
He’s going insane, isn’t he? He—he should have ages ago, but he was there, so Hajime never did, but now— he is gone.
Someone steps forward, a gasp coming out of their mouth.
“No…”
Hajime flinches.
That voice.
That voice.
(He thinks of the pristine, white fabric. He thinks of red heels making a ‘clacking’ sound against the floor tiles in their previous school.)
“Koko.”
His nails dig into his skin through the fabric and he wants to keep pretending that none of them are there.
But he can’t.
“He isn’t dead… right? This… no.”
The tears are slowly building up again.
“K-Koko, he can’t be dead.”
Slowly, he turns around, facing his childhood friend with a frown. He can’t speak up. Not when he sees blue eyes stare back at him with pain and denial. Not when he desires to keep up the act that everything is fine, that nothing is wrong, and that they don’t have a reason to be there at all.
Inui’s gaze turns more pained with each passing second, Hajime doesn’t respond. For a moment, it’s just them again. Only them.
Like it was only them back at her burial. It’s only them again, trying to understand what the hell happened. Why are they there? Why is there a gaping hole in their chest? They are once again trying to piece everything together. It’s only the two of them—
“You’re lying.”
Except they aren’t the only two there.
Except this isn’t Akane’s death. It’s his .
And now Hajime is gazing at the person responsible for all of this.
Short black hair and even darker eyes gaze at him with shock, but Hajime can only feel muted rage upon seeing the other.
Sano Manjiro comes forward and Hajime wants to tell him to stop. To stop coming closer to his grave. Not after all this. Not after all he did.
He has no right. None of them do.
(Not even Sei—)
“Mikey,” Kakucho calls out, reaching out with an arm, no doubt noticing the seething rage buried in Hajime. “Don’t—”
“He can’t be dead,” Sano mutters, wide eyes gazing behind Hajime, at the framed picture he still cannot acknowledge. “He can't be, right?”
“Manjiro,” Draken calls out to him, a pained frown on his face, ”stop.”
“I mean,” Sano mutters, “it’s impossible. He can’t be dead… so, this must…”
Hajime watches as the man’s expression falls until nothing but an empty gaze rests on his face. Chifuyu uses that moment to dash out of the room with a pained gasp, Kazutora, and Baji hot on his heels. The other former Toman members gaze at the door before turning to the Bonten members again, each of them wearing an unbelieving expression.
“No… no…,” Sano keeps on muttering, gaze glued to the picture.
(And maybe Hajime’s reminded of himself just for a moment—but that. That’s wrong. Because he wasn’t the one who pushed him away. Because he stayed. He stayed at his side, promised to do so forever and still…)
“Look,” Kakucho starts, “I didn’t ca—”
A crashing sound interrupts him, shortly followed by a familiar yell, and every Toman member in the room tenses up before dashing out of the room. Hajime walks behind them slowly until he stops at the sight of Chifuyu laying on the ground clutching his cheek. Sanzu hovers above him, chuckling at him. Kazutora is kneeling down beside him, glaring at the pink-haired man. Baji is being held off by Rindou, who is not letting him get any closer to Sanzu.
“Move out of my way,” Baji growls.
“Why should I?” Rindou replies, raising an eyebrow. “To be quite frank, I don’t like you. Nor the rest of you bunch of idiots.”
Baji reacts, drawing his arm back, but Mitsuya steps forward, calling out to him. “Don’t!”
Sanzu kicks Chifuyu before yelping in pain. He whips around to glare at his brother. “What the hell?!”
“Don’t aggravate them, Haruchiyo,” Takeomi warns him.
“Who even cares? These assholes shouldn’t even be here!” he replies.
Sanzu turns to gaze at the Toman members before stopping at Sano.
“ You ,” he snarls, grinning widely, his gaze seemingly crazed, “have some guts to be here.”
Sano jerks, most likely unused to being despised by Sanzu out of all people. Something in Hajime boils at that. What did he expect?
But otherwise, Toman’s former leader doesn’t react, just staring at the ground with that same empty look. “This can’t be real.”
Everyone turns to gaze at him, all wearing varying conflicted expressions.
“I mean this…”
“Are you stupid?” Rindou asks him, narrowing his eyes. “Haven’t you seen the grave? Isn’t that proof enough for you, dumbass?”
Sano whips his head up to gaze at younger Haitani, denial visible in his eyes. “No! He wouldn’t die just like that!”
Every Bonten member flinches at that, and Hajime feels like something is stabbing his heart .
Rindou scowls at him. “He’s dead, you imbecile—”
“No… this… this has to be a sick joke!”
Something in Hajime turns dark upon hearing these words, but before he can move, Ran beats him to it, punching Mikey directly into his face. The man falls down onto the ground, Draken and Mitsuya immediately rushing to his side as Baji yells profanities directed at the older Haitani, whilst still being blocked by the younger one.
Ran smiles down at Sano, as he wipes his fist on his shirt. There’s something ablaze in his eyes.
“I really despise the sight of your face,” he tells the other. “But that’s just a personal preference.”
Then the smile drops off his face.
“However, finding your words ugly is not a preference. What gives you the right to ridicule our boss like that?”
Sano flinches at that, and something in Hajime calms down upon seeing that.
“We apologize for Mikey,” Mitsuya mutters after Ran finishes talking. “he’s always cared a great deal about…”
“Of course,” Ran mutters, sounding strained. “I assure you, we know.”
Hajime can’t take this anymore.
He turns away from the sight, ignoring Inui calling out his name as he walks back into the room, closing the door behind him. Minutes later, he hears muffled arguing from the outside, and he chuckles weakly as he walks up to the coffin.
This has to be a sick joke!
“I don’t get it,” he mutters out. “What did you see in him?”
“In any of them?” He asks, finally looking at the picture. “What didn’t we have that they did?”
(What did he lack?)
He hears yells coming from outside of the room, one voice clearly Sanzu’s.
“Just fucking leave!”
Hajime blinks, letting the tears pour down his cheeks for once. “Why…”
(Blood covering the ground, police car sirens resounding everywhere, and crowds of people muttering as some hold up their phones to film the whole thing.)
The screaming only gets louder.
“If it wasn’t for you—”
(Hajime remembers blue eyes and a kind smile. He remembers warm hugs and comforting words.)
“Takemichi is dead, and it’s all your fault, you asshole!”
His legs give out, and he falls onto the ground, kneeling as he breaks out in laughter.
Hajime wants him back.
The tears won't stop flowing, as the pain in his chest only grows stronger.
“Why did you leave us … why did you…”
“He can’t be dead! Takemitchy would never leave me!”
Hajime buries his face in his hands as his body trembles.
“Why did you leave me?”
He hears a loud banging sound from the outside.
Then only the silence remains.
Pitch black flesh and bone
Couldn't believe that you were gone
