Archive of Our Own

If you asked Chifuyu about his most valuable memory, he would come up with this:

It’s a warm evening in late spring, the kiss of summer already lingering in the quiet winds. He’s sitting on top of the highest building in town, the tower that watches over the city like a silent protector. The Polyhedron , a construction built of dreams and visions and fantasies only a child could imagine. A contradiction in itself, a miracle, a pipe dream, breaking the laws of physics as it floats in the air like an airship, only connected to the earth through a steep staircase that surrounds the tower like the embrace of a lover. 

The tower is thin at its bottom, sharp like a needle and grows wider to the top, blooming like a rose, with walls made of paper and a skeleton of steel.

The townsfolk call it the tower of children, when in reality, it’s Toman’s tower. And they aren’t children anymore, but grew up to be young adults of fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years, because in this town, childhood ends when money runs low and these days, coins are as rare as snowflakes in a dessert. 

Someone asked Chifuyu to come to the tower an hour before sunset, written on a worn out piece of paper with a nice and neat handwriting. It’s from the hands of an artist, a painter, who only can draw in his dreams.

Kazutora didn't grow up poor with money but poor with love, being robbed of the former at the age of nine too. When his father and his violent fists left him and his mother, he took their wealth with them, forcing them to move into the Crude Sprawl, a nearly forsaken part of the town, near the cemetary. 

There was never room for his artistic nature and now there’s neither time nor money for that, but when you give him a canvas, he can paint your thoughts and fantasies in the most beautiful colors. 

When you give him a reason to fight though, he will beat you up with his strong fists in no time. But they are long past this, left their arguments and childish fights over Baji’s friendship to their younger selves and now Kazutora’s golden eyes are soft, sometimes even vulnerable around him. 

They sit next to each other, feet dangling over the edge of the tower. The sun is slowly sinking lower at the horizon, painting the sky into the most beautiful shades of amber, gold and crimson.

It’s a marvelous sight, surreal even compared to the gray town below, but the tower has always been a place of miracles. A place to chase dreams. 

The silence they share is natural, without any expectations or strange feelings, but Kazutora is the one who breaks it eventually.

“I – .” Kazutora clears his throat. “Brought some milk.” 

Chifuyu, caught off guard by this sudden statement, turns his gaze to Kazutora, eyes growing wide. He already wondered what this is about, but, well, this is clearly not what he expected.

“A bread.”

Next to the huge bottle, he places a loaf of soft bread, clad into brown paper. It’s big enough to not fit into it wholly.

“Aaaand…” After rummaging in his pockets, he reveals a handful of thick, “Raisins!”

Ceremoniously, he arranges the items behind them on the ground, an excited smile on his lips.

“Ha! I bet this is the best picnic of your whole damn life!” he boasts, taking Chifuyu’s overwhelmed silence as something positive, which it is in a way, but on the other hand –

“Kazutora! How the hell – “

“It’s a secret,” Kazutora interrupts him with that mischievous gleam in his eyes that makes Chifuyu’s throat go dry.

Even for Chifuyu, who has enough money to get by due to the sewing shop of his mother, it would be hard to get his hands on so much valuable food. Raisins, okay, yeah, sometimes you can make a good deal with some folks in the streets, but a loaf of fresh bread? Let alone a full bottle of milk? Chifuyu can’t even remember the last time he got a sip of something sweet like milk. Maybe it was on his birthday?

“Please, don’t tell me you got yourself into trouble again…,” Chifuyu mumbles, his head running through a hundred different worrisome scenarios per seconds. 

His heart clenches painfully as he remembers that incident some weeks ago where Kazutora got attacked by some bandits at night, showing up at Chifuyu’s doorstep, smiling, as he bled to the fucking floor. They only managed to cut his upper arm, but it was enough to send a chill of fear through Chifuyu’s veins. 

He knows about Kazutora’s nightly forays through the town where he breaks into houses of the wealthier townsfolk to grab some valuable stuff. His mother isn’t very reliable when it comes to feeding the family, sometimes staying in bed for five days straight, so he always tries to back them up. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Kazutora dismisses with a carefree smile that doesn’t ease Chifuyu at all, but he doesn’t really get the chance to dig deeper. 

“I just – wanted to give something back to you. You always help me out with – well, basically everything.” Kazutora explains, avoiding his gaze now. “So, uhm, thank you, I guess. For – ” He gestures awkwardly. “Being, well, there. Always.”

He throws Chifuyu a small smile, playing restlessly with the hem of his worn out jacket, the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

This isn’t easy for Kazutora. Chifuyu can practically feel his unease, his vulnerability, but all he can think of is how pretty he looks like this, showing his true self without any mockery or a wry smile to hide behind, his skin smoothened by golden sunlight and suddenly, a fantasy Chifuyu always pushed away seems like the only logical thing to do. 

Eyes set on Kazutora, he leans in closer, closer, closer, one hand reaching out to frame his cheek, the other one drawn into a fist on the floor to find support. His gaze never leaves Kazutora’s and slowly, very slowly, he melts against his sunbathed lips, tastes the last rays of sunshine from his mouth.

No one has done something like this for Chifuyu before and it’s not just about the expensive goods. It’s about the place, the time, the fact that sunsets are his favorite part of the day, that he always wanted to watch one from top of the Polyhedron and, most importantly, that it’s Kazutora who did all of this. For him. He did it just for him.  

Chifuyu often dreamed of his first kiss, hoping it to be something like the romance novels he loves to read, but no words can match what it’s really like. 

He’s nervous, a bit clumsy even, excited and thoroughly overwhelmed. Kazutora’s lips are so soft and the kiss is warm and sweeter like cream, making his head dizzy and his heart flutter and he knows, feels it in his entire body, that this… it’s love. He’s in love. Has been in love for a while now, but Chifuyu never dared to admit it, always pushed it aside, because the streets are dangerous and affection makes you vulnerable, especially someone like Kazutora, who’s willing to go any lengths for the people he cares for – but right here and now he can’t fight it off anymore. Doesn’t want to fight it off. 

And it’s this exact memory, when they kissed for the first time on top of the tower of dreams, with his heart so full of joy and love and excitement that it felt like bursting, that Chifuyu wants to remember until the end. 

There are many more he cherishes, loves to remember, but this one… it will give him peace. 

It’s strange how thinking about the end comes so naturally now. When their whole life turned upside down just a week ago, Chifuyu had been hopeful at first and although he might be a dreamer, he isn’t naive. His days, hours, minutes are counted. He knew the moment he woke up with his throat so sore that it felt like he was drinking acid and his limbs feeling heavy like concrete. 

It’s the early symptoms of what the authorities decided to call the sand plague.

The second stage is high fever and heavy coughing, which made it appear like a bad case of a flu at first, but from this point on, the symptoms will become more severe.

Rumor says that in the third stage either you end up curled up on the floor like a fetus, whimpering in burning agony that seeps through your bones like fire or that you start to wander aimlessly around like a sleepwalker, robbed of your logical mind as you try to get close to every human being you set your eyes on. They say it’s a cruel mechanism of the disease to spread even faster.

But no matter if you end up suffering alone on the floor or running around like a mindless shell and drag others with you down to hell – the outcome is always the same. 

Death. You die. Everyone did so far. After one, two, three or at the latest four days it’s over. 

There are some antibiotics if you are lucky enough to afford them, but they’ll only postpone the inevitable, stretching your agony maybe to five or even six days, but that’s it. 

Some say there are doctors working day and night on a cure, but even if that’s true Chifuyu won’t live long enough to witness it. 

No. He is going to… die.

It’s a bitter truth he somehow came to terms with. Blind panic won’t get him anywhere and he still needs to take care of some things. 

First thing was getting separated from his mom, of course. If he was to infect her as well – no, he could neither live nor die with this knowledge. 

Infection through other people happens mostly due to direct touch, but Chifuyu won’t take any unnecessary risks.
The note he left her at the kitchen table is wonky, the ink smudged here and there due to the tears he couldn’t quite hold back. It urged her to get as many immune boosters as possible to avert an infection at all cost. The soldiers who got sent over by the capital to take care of the outbreak sell them to the townsfolk, but by now barely anyone can afford them anymore. Due to her shop she has some connections though, so Chifuyu is sure she’ll be fine. She just has to be fine. 

After saying his farewell to his cat Peke J, which took him an awful amount of time and more tears he isn’t ashamed of, Chifuyu went to Toman’s former hideout, called the Nutshell. 

Technically, he wasn’t allowed to leave the house and getting there was probably the most nerve wracking experience in his life – which says a lot coming from a gang member. But if you’re infected and anyone catches you on the streets, you literally have a target on your back. Some say it’s a mercy to kill the infected early and the soldiers don’t hesitate to shoot – or even use flamethrowers, if you can trust the rumors. 

There are also whole infected districts you aren’t allowed to enter, marked by huge fireplaces at the entrances. Everyday the list of infected districts seems to change and if your district is affected, you aren’t allowed to leave your house either, but if you do, infected or not: they may just shoot you. 

Luckily, neither his home district, the Atrium, nor the Maw, where Toman’s old hideout is located, were locked up, so he got here unscathed. Well. More or less. 

But Chifuyu is glad, really. There are worse places to die and now he can just wait here for… well, what’s coming next. Or rather who.

It’s only a matter of time, he knows that. The message Chifuyu gave to one of the children in the streets, who despite the spreading plague still walk through the town like diligent ants and deliver anything you want for a handful of nuts or a button, was just vague enough to not let anyone but a Toman member find him. And this one is for one special Toman member in particular.

Come to the forsaken place that’s empty, but fits into a palm. Alone. Don’t enter, just knock. 

Chifuyu longs for this conversation just as much as he dreads it, because Kazutora – he will be all excited, probably thinking that Chifuyu got a nice surprise for him or something. Well, a surprise it surely is… but it’s nothing nice and his heart aches when he just thinks about sharing his horrible truth with Kazutora. 

He won’t take it well and Chifuyu can’t even comfort him properly, can’t touch, can’t hug, can’t kiss him one last time, but he needs to say goodbye as long as he looks presentable, with his mind sharp and not clouded with pain and whatever else this disease will come up with. Needs to tell Kazutora that he’ll be okay, because he still got Baji and Mikey and the rest of Toman and they will take care of him.

An iron fist wraps around Chifuyu’s heart at the thought, squeezes until his eyes burn, because damn, he already misses his friends, misses Baji and his fierce smile and Mikey’s bickering with Draken and Mitsuya’s calming nature and Pah’s and Peh’s stupid ideas and all the memories he will never get the chance to make. 

Fuck, he really is going to die, isn’t he…?

It takes some time for Chifuyu to snap out of it as soon as this thought settles. His mood is fragile like glass, always at the brick of falling into despair, but he wants to be stronger than this. Wants to be hopeful and smiling and grateful for everything he had in his life and he is grateful – but he’s also so damn scared and he just… doesn’t want to die yet. 

Somehow he manages to pull himself together though and when there’s finally a knock at the door, Chifuyu’s heart clenches and races, dreadful and excited, so full of love for the boy outside whose heart he is about to break harder than his own. 

For a brief moment he wishes Kazutora never trusted him with his delicate heart. It already went through so much hardship, so much pain and Chifuyu promised to himself to always handle it with care, protect it with everything he got, but now he is the one to smash it into bits and pieces, even dragging parts of it to his grave, because he knows Kazutora will refuse to take it back.

Life is so cruel for making them lovers. 

“Chifuyu?” Kazutora’s voice is muffled through the door but he can literally see the smug smile on his lips. The excited gleam in his eyes. It’s suffocating to imagine. 

“Hey. You’re in there?” 

He knocks again, goes for the handle next and tries to open the door, but Chifuyu blocked it with an old chair. 

“No! Don’t enter!” he warns and quickly gets to his feet, reaching out an arm on instinct to stop him. “Just…” Chifuyu turns his head to the only window in the abandoned house that’s not boarded up. It’s shaped like a halfmoon and higher than average, but there’s an old wing chair underneath it in the color of dried mud which should be enough to reach it. 

“The window,” he concludes. “Get to the window at the back of the house.”

There’s a moment of silence, until Kazutora’s low mumbling reaches his ears. “The window?” Then he adds, with his voice raised, “What are you planning? Trying to be all mysterious now?” 

Kazutora laughs quietly, while Chifuyu grows more restless with every passing second.

“Just do it, okay?” he yells through the door, trying to hide his obvious tension.

“Yeah, yeah, chill.” There’s the quiet jingling of Kazutora’s earring due to whatever movement he just made. Chifuyu imagines that he lifted his palm in a surrendering gesture, still with that wry grin on his lips. 

Kazutora’s steps begin to move and Chifuyu takes a moment to exhale, letting relief wash over him, before he targets the armchair. 

He feels clumsy with his limbs being heavy like lead and breathing seems to become harder too, but Chifuyu pushes these things aside, concentrating on the task at hand. It’s just a stupid armchair, not the Polyhedron! 

The comparison hurts, because not only will he never climb on top of Toman’s tower again; he’s not even in a condition to walk the countless steps that never bothered him before. But he has enough time to feel sorry for himself later, now there are more important things to do.

After heaving himself up the armrest of that damn armchair, he is rewarded with a good view on the window.

Kazutora, on the other side, draggs a weatherbeaten shelf underneath the window, long forgotten by its original owner. It’s not enough to gape the distance, but helps him to reach out the small protrusion in front of the window, barely wide enough to fit the small feet of a child. 

It’s a risky climb, but Kazutora does it with a wide grin on his face as if it’s the easiest thing in the world and Chifuyu’s heart drops at the sight. He wants to feel this smile on his lips, wants to explore every corner of his mouth, kiss him senseless, one hand buried in his soft hair, the other pulling him closer at the hips, getting as much contact as possible. But there’s a wall of glass between them and soon, it will be worlds. 

“Hey.” Kazutora squats in front of the window, one hand gripping at the outer edge for support, flashing him a flirty grin. “Good to finally see your pretty face, mysterious boy.” The casual compliment sends a slight flush over Chifuyu’s cheeks. His throat tightens and aches as if he swallowed rusty nails.  

“Kazutora…” He breathes out, a genuine smile drenched in sadness pulling at his lips and he can’t help but to press his palm against the window, longing for a touch he can’t afford. 

Kazutora seems to notice something’s off, a flash of confusion or concern crossing his face, but he clings to his wry grin.

“What’s up? Got yourself in trouble and need my help now? A damsel in distress who called for her knight in shining armor?” Kazutora teases, but he’s clearly on edge. 

Under normal circumstances, Chifuyu’d give him a cold glared, “Fuck off,” without any real heat in his voice, but he isn’t in the mood to play games and rather wants to get straight to the point.

“No, listen, I – ” Chifuyu swallows. “Fucked up.” His smile grows bitter, but he forces it to remain on his lips. “I don’t know when and how it happend, but I got infected with that sand plague thing and we all know how this is going to end, so I called you over, because I wanted to – I wanted to say thank you, Kazutora.”

His expression softens and he presses his hand more firmly against the glass now. 

“For your kindness. And your bravery. And your trust in me. And all of your kisses and words and deeds.” Chifuyu smiles fondly at the memories that flood his mind like a warm summer wind. “And most importantly, for your love. I didn’t want to fall for you, god, neither of us wanted to, but it was the most amazing experience in my life – and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. So thank you, Kazutora. I truly – ”

“No.” Kazutora, who remained frozen for the past seconds, chokes it out like a fishbone. “Stop this.”

“Kazutora – ”

“No! You – you’re kidding right?” His expression changes, turns into wide blown eyes and an unhinged smile that gives him a crazed look. “You're just talking shit right now, but this isn’t funny, so cut the crap out, alright?”

Chifuyu sights softly, his smile all sad and compassionate now.

“No, don’t give me that look!”

“I’m sorry, but – ”

“Shut up!” Kazutora interrupts him fiercely. “You can’t be serious! I – no, this can’t be true! You gotta be wrong!” With gritted teeth, he smashes his palm against the window hard enough for Chifuyu to sense the impact on his side. 

“I wish I was.” Chifuyu tries to soothe him and brings his palm closer to Kazutora’s until they would touch if it weren’t for the glass. “But I’m not. And I know that it’s fucked up and hard to accept, but I’m okay with it, really. I mean – my life was – “

“No, fuck you!” This time, Kazutora throws his fist against the window, not hard enough to break through, but Chifuyu’s instincts yell at him to back away.

“Kazutora, stop this!” Chifuyu literally yells at him, but he doesn’t seem to get through.

“I’m – I’m going to get in there now…” Kazutora mumbles more to himself, clearly beside himself, but Chifuyu can hear it loud and clear, horror building up in his stomach. 

“What? No! No, you can’t! Kazutora!” 

He can do nothing but watch as Kazutora takes another swing, leaves another impact, with clenched teeth and hollow eyes, desperation fueling his actions. With a loud cracking noise, the glass breaks. 

Chifuyu acts on reflexes, raising his arm to protect his face as shards of glass cut through the air like razorblades. He stumbles back on the armrest, twists his right leg in the process and has a harsh landing back first on the floor. 

His vision darkens for some seconds and he can’t breath, all air being forcefully pressed out of his lungs, but Kazutora’s panicked voice draws him back immediately. 

“Chifuyu? Shit, are you hurt?” He pauses, voice dripping with guilt. “I’m – I’m sorry! I don’t know what – shit, I’m so sorry! Why do I always fuck things up?”

Chifuyu looks up, straight into Kazutora’s terror stricken eyes. His fist is drenched in scarlet, blood, his mind offers him, that runs in thick stripes of red down his forearm. Apparently, the pain was the trigger that pulled him back into reality, leaving him completely distraught with his sudden outburst. 

Chifuyu wills himself into an upright position, ignoring the ache in his bones and quickly waves it aside with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” As fine as he can be that is, but the sudden fall did him no real additional harm. There are some tiny scratches on his arm and a slight burn on his cheek, indicating that one of the shards grazes his face, but it’s nothing, really – in contrast to Kazutora, whose hand is covered in deep cuts. Chifuyu swallows down the bitter bile in his throat, realizing that he can’t do anything to help him. 

“Kazutora, your hand – ”

“It’s nothing! Chifuyu, I – ” He slightly shifts his position, trying to get a better look at him. “You're not really sick, are you? Please, tell me it’s a joke…” Desperation is seeping out of his words like pus from an infected wound and a terrible smile forces the corners of his mouth apart. “I swear, I won’t be mad. I’ll even laugh at your stupid joke, okay?”

It’s tearing him apart. Kazutora looks so vulnerable, so helpless, but there’s still that gruesome flicker of hope that Chifuyu has to crush. He can’t keep it alive, for false hope is crueler than reality could ever be. 

Chifuyu breathes himself into calmness, trying to collect his thoughts. Kazutora is obviously in a state of exception and he curses himself for not bringing Baji into the picture, but he isn’t in his best shape either. 

Damn, he just wanted to see Kazutora one last time and get a nice ending for their story, just like in his favorite romance novels, but he feels like making things only worse. For both of them. 

“Kazutora,” he says gently, trying to give him his best attempt at a smile and ignoring the screaming red on his skin. It feels like he’s talking to a wounded tiger who is backed into a corner. “Get down from there and let’s talk through the door, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Even more. 

Also, he doesn’t feel comfortable with a broken window between them, even when there is a good amount of distance between them. From what they know infection shouldn’t happen like this, but he absolutely doesn’t want to take any risk.

Thankfully, Kazutora answers with a nervous nod, eyes still blown wide. “Okay…,” he mumbles, throwing a glance over his shoulder, before turning back to Chifuyu. “I’m – really, sorry.” He gestures vaguely to the window. “This was so stupid…”

He looks so small, so defeated, like a kicked puppy afraid of being thrown out and Chifuyu’s heart clenches painfully at the sight. Right now he wants nothing more but to wrap his arms around Kazutora and tell him everything’s going to be alright. It’s a lie he wishes to believe himself.  

“Don’t worry about it. Just be careful when you get down there, okay?” Chifuyu tries to soothe him, but the nausea building up in his stomach becomes harder and harder to ignore.

Kazutora nods again and turns away from the window for good now, to hopefully get down there savely. 

In the meantime, Chifuyu struggles to get over to the door. His world spins with every hasty step that he takes and his limbs feel even heavier than before, but he can lay down and rest later. 

He leaves the old chair under the door handle, just to be safe and waits for any noise that tells of Kazutora’s arrival. 

When he eventually hears the muffled sound of Kazutora’s voice carefully speaking out his name, relief washes over him like fresh rain in a dessert. Thank god he didn’t fall down from that damn building.

“Chifuyu?”

“I’m right here.” Sighing out, Chifuyu leans against the wooden door. 

There’s a moment of mutual silence and to his surprise, Kazutora is the first one to break it.

“I want to get in there and be with you,” he murmurs quietly, nearly pleading and Chifuyu’s eyes dart immediately to the handle, but Kazutora makes no attempt to get in. 

“I know,” he speaks softly. “I want you to be here too, but.” Torn, Chifuyu places his palm against the wood, imagining Kazutora would do the same. “You can’t.”

They fall silent again and Chifuyu waits for a response. It’s hard when he can’t see Kazutora’s face, but he seems a lot calmer now. Defeated. 

When Kazutora makes no attempt to speak, he takes the chance to bring attention to the treatment of his hand again. Now chances are way better that he gets through to him. 

“About your hand – ”

“I don’t care about my fucking hand!”

Chifuyu suppresses a sigh. “Go to my mom. She will take care of it.” After giving it some thought, he adds, “And would you do me a favor? Could you ask her for some more antibiotics? But please don’t tell her my location. I don’t want her to get into danger and – she’ll understand.” 

He doesn’t necessarily need them, Chifuyu guesses, but it’s way more likely that Kazutora will actually do it if he puts it that way. Also, he feels like it would help if they think they can do something for him, no matter how useless it might be in the end. 

Kazutora doesn’t address it further though, still in denial, “How can you be sure that it’s that – that sand pest thing? I mean…”

“The symptoms speak for themselves…” 

Chifuyu hates not being able to see what’s going on behind that door. He perks up his ears, trying to catch every noise Kazutora makes to get a hint about his reaction, but there’s nothing until he speaks again. 

“But they are working on a cure!”

Chifuyu’s lips form a pained smile that goes unseen. “Kazutora…”

“No, don’t use that tone on me, Chifuyu!” There’s the loud bang of a fist being smashed against the door, an act of sheer desperation and Chifuyu hopes that he used his unharmed hand at least. “You can’t – ” Die. Kazutora doesn’t get that devastating word over his lips, but Chifuyu can hear it in his thoughts. “This can’t be happening! There has to be a way to – to heal you!”

His breath is all unsteady and chopped now, teeth probably gritted, jaw tensed. 

“They are talking in the streets, you know? The children – some say, they have this strange powder – ”

Yes, Chifuyu heard of it. They call it shmowder or something, but he never really gave much to it, because people talk about the weirdest shit, especially during an existential crisis like the outbreak of a deadly plague. 

It sounds like a nice straw to cling to, but even when some might say he is a romantic, he isn’t naive enough to believe in a street myth that changes like the weather. Some days it’s said to heal, other days to kill on first contact and in reality it’s probably just fizzy powder mixed with dirt and rust – if it even exists in the first place.  

Chifuyu quietly shakes his head and leans his forehead against the door. There is a sudden tiredness in his bones that makes him feel fifty years older. “Kazutora. Please… that’s enough. I know that you want to do something, but we need to accept reality.”

“Are you telling me you just want to lay down and give up?”

The accusation is just subtle, but hits in all the sensitive spots of his raw nerves.

“I’m telling you to face reality already!” Chifuyu never intended to raise his voice, but there is only so much he can take. “This is no damn fairy tale! I’m going to die and there is nothing anyone can do about it!” 

“Don’t say that! I won’t allow this to happen!” Kazutora bursts out equally on edge, every syllable dripping with desperation. “You have to fight! You have to – fight against it goddamn it!” 

“And how am I supposed to do this?”

“I don’t know, okay? But you have to fucking try at least!”

“I’m trying, Kazutora! But I’m – “ 

Suddenly, Chifuyu’s inside feels like being hit by a train. An iron fist wraps around his lung, wrings it out like a wet towel and shakes him up with the worst coughs of his entire life.
It’s as if he swallowed burning coals. His throat, his stomach, everything is on fire, the flames eating through his chest as if it’s paper and Chifuyu can’t fucking breathe. 

Forced to his knees, he wraps his arms around his body and desperately tries to not fall apart. In the far distance, he can make out a hysterical voice calling out his name, familiar like a warm memory, but Chifuyu can’t focus on it. With strangled noises he gasps for air, blinks against the tears in the corners of his eyes as something wet and dark spills from his lips. 

And as sudden as it began, it’s over. Chifuyu takes in the air like a drowning man, fills his lungs with fresh oxygen as he leans his body heavily against the door. Shaking like a leaf, he wipes over his mouth, leaving a trail of crimson on the back of his hand.

In the background, he can hear a desperate fist hitting the wooden door like a hammer, mixing with the panicking voice of the boy he loves.

“Chifuyu? Chifuyu!”  

“I’m – fine,” he croaks out, still clinging to every bit of air in his lungs. “I’m fine…”

He is not and both of them know. 

“Fuck…!” It sounds like Kazutora throws his whole body against the door, voice nothing but a strangled sound of despair. “Chifuyu – ” His words drown in tears, muffled sobs and gritted teeth.

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “Kazutora, listen.” Chifuyu smiles bitterly through the rain of tears streaming down his cheeks and in a way, he is glad now that Kazutora can’t see him like this. “You’ll be okay. Everyone’s still there and you – you’ll be okay, I promise. And I.” His smile grows wide enough to hurt. “Love you. I love you, Kazutora…”

“Stop…” Kazutora urges him. “Stop saying this when you make it sound like a goodbye. I – I won’t let this happen, you hear me?” A fist collides with the wood again and if it made any difference, Chifuyu would feel better by now for sure. “I won’t let this happen!” 

Exhausted, Chifuyu presses his palm against the door in an useless attempt to soothe Kazutora or himself. He just doesn’t find the strength in himself to argue anymore and tries to find comfort in Kazutora’s voice, although it’s torn with pitch-black agony and utter helplessness.  

“Just wait here for me, okay?” Kazutora swallows audibly and when Chifuyu doesn’t answer, a new layer of panic infiltrates his voice. “Chifuyu? You still there? Chifuyu!”

Chifuyu nods, only to realize that Kazutora can’t see it, so he presses out a quiet, “Yes. I’m right here.”

He can nearly feel Kazutora’s sigh of relief through the door. “Okay. Okay, good, that’s good. Never – scare me like that again, okay?”

“Okay.” Chifuyu promises wearily. The urge to just curl up on the floor and close his eyes nearly becomes unbearable and if he dares to dream, he rests his head on Kazutora’s lap, their fingers intertwined like the roots of an old oak while a gentle hand runs through his blond strands to soothe him into sleep. 

“Okay,” Kazutora repeats one more time as if trying to convince himself. “Now take a rest and – hang on just a little longer, okay?”

“...okay.”

“I’ll be back! I’ll be back and… I’ll save you! No matter what!”

From the sound of it, Kazutora now steps back from the door, pebbles crunching under his worn out boots. 

Helplessly, Chifuyu lifts his head to look up at the door, his palm pressing more firmly into the wooden surface, but his eyes aren’t made to look through solid wood. He can only imagine Kazutora’s back-view, strands of dark and bleached hair dancing softly through the wind as he tries to chase a false hope. 

If Chifuyu’s heart had a voice to scream out its pain, the whole town would be deaf now. 

“I’ll save you, Chifuyu!” Kazutora yells his promise at him again from a greater distance now.

And oh, how much Chifuyu wishes he told him that he loves him one last time instead. 

Time flows differently when you’re about to die. 

Minutes, hours, days, turn into insubstantial concepts, replaced by breaths and heartbeats as the new unit of measurement. Some go by unnoticed, like still wind, others turn into eternities of agony and fear, guided by the contradicting hope for it to end and not let it be the last one. 

There’s no past or future, just moment, after moment, after moment.

Chifuyu can’t tell how long it’s been since he saw Kazutora for the last time, but he never showed up again.

Baji was the one who brought him the antibiotics, hidden in a rusty tin box made for sour drops. The painted fruits on the cover faded to a dull, dusty gray over the years and Chifuyu wonders if the same will happen to him when he is nothing but a distant memory in the mind of his loved ones.

But there was more than the antibiotics: fresh water, apples, dried meat, chestnuts, raisins, a worn out blanket, a pillow, three of his favorite books, and a ten pages long letter from his mom, telling him how much she worries and loves him, is proud of him and also curses him for leaving without a goodbye, but each word is written with lifeblood and the unconditional love of a grieving mother.

It took Chifuyu more than eight attempts to read through the lines, smearing the ink with droplets of salty tears. The yellowish paper is all rippled and worn, but Chifuyu wears it like a treasure close to his heart. He didn’t find it in himself to read it a second time though, mentally first and now physically.

Baji isn’t the only one who visited him and Chifuyu wanted to curse them all for their carelessness but is touched by their sympathy all the same. Mitsuya, Draken, Pah and Peh, Mikey… they all showed up at the doorstep, bringing him goods or distraction or words of condolence and he asked each and everyone of them to take care of Kazutora for him, knowing the weight of a dying boy‘s last wishes. All of them are for Kazutora.


Since time turned into an intangible mass, running through his fingers like grains of sand, Chifuyu doesn’t know exactly when the fever starts to kick in. He does know though that the only direction is down from here on.

It’s not the first fever Chifuyu struggles through, but by far the worst he can remember. Just lying there on the dirty ground, wrapped in a blanket that smells like home, is an exhausting task. Every blink, every shaky breath he takes, comparable to a mountain climb.

His burning skin is shiny like oil, covered in a thin layer of sweat, while his brain turned into a soft, substanceless mass, falling apart at the seams like an overcooked head of lettuce. 

He dreams in colors of blood and shadows, dark and disturbing pictures that leave an ache in his cramped chest and a sense of terror in his bones, subtle like a dark premonition. But even the most gruesome nightmares aren’t enough to force a scream out of his throat anymore. Chifuyu is too weak to even raise his voice.

The trembling of his body when waves of chills have him in a firm grip swallow the last resources he has left inside. Which isn’t much to begin with.

The good part about being caught in a permanent state of dizziness and exhaustion is that maybe dying won’t be so hard. Maybe Chifuyu won’t even notice it, just drifting (more or less peacefully) away into one of his nightmares, but then again, the pain in his limbs and stomach sometimes overwhelms him with the impact of a hammer blow, forcing him to heave out sprinkles of blood and bile until his eyes burn with tears and his throat is rough like a grater.

It’s an ungraceful, pathetic end. He won’t die a hero like his father did when he saved a girl from the train tracks in exchange for his own life. But Chifuyu does hope that he still left some impact in his short time on this world. Even when it’s just a tiny bit. A spark in someone‘s memory that makes them smile wistfully. That would be nice…

While he is caught in his fever dreams, pain and last hopes, he almost misses it. The urgent sound on the wooden door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Chifuyu?“

It’s far away as if he is at the bottom of the sea and his tired brain weaves it into his foggy mind like another puzzle piece of a distant dream. But his heart is different, whispers quiet words of longing into his ear he can’t comprehend yet.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Chifuyu! Answer me!“

That… voice. He knows that voice…

“Or I’m – going to kick down that door!”

…Kazutora.

It’s –

“Kazutora?“ Chifuyu croaks, more a fleeting hope than a question. “Don’t…” His voice is too quiet, too weak to be heard, but the heavy coughing shaking his body up only a second later is loud like thunder. 

“Chifuyu? Chifuyu!” If relief had a distinct sound, it’d be Kazutora’s voice right here and now and despite his weak constitution, Chifuyu’s heart flutters by the mere thought of Kazutora standing on the other side of that door. 

There are a thousand things he wants to ask and tell Kazutora and until now Chifuyu didn’t realize just how badly he had wanted to hear his voice one last time. It brings tears to his eyes and a weak smile that goes forever unseen.

Outside, Kazutora gushes out, “Just hang in there! I got it, okay? I got you a shmowder!“ There’s a short pause, filled by the muffled noises of rustling fabric. “I’m going to put it right here! You just need to open the door and take it. It will cure you for sure!“ Kazutora’s voice cracks with excitement, words bubbling out of his mouth like a waterfall.

Chifuyu has a hard time to follow, but keeps his questions to himself. He wants to save his strength for more important words, although this is probably just another dream. One that has a nice start for once. Confusing, but nice.

“Okay, it’s right here!“ Kazutora exclaims. “It’s a small box. Like a matchbox. They said you’re supposed to swallow all of the powder.“

Chifuyu listens carefully, not wanting to miss a single word Kazutora says even if it’s only in his dreams. All of this sounds so much like him and Chifuyu can’t help but to long for a touch, a kiss, a single glance.

“I’m going to get some distance now. So let’s say you count to ten and then you’ll open the door and go get it, okay?“

When he doesn’t get an answer, Kazutora repeats, “Okay?“ and Chifuyu wills himself to respond with a weak, “Okay…“

He can’t refuse him anything at this point.

So Chifuyu begins to count, wondering how he will actually cross the distance to that door, let alone move the chair that still blocks the handle. It appears like an immeasurable task, but for Kazutora he will do it. Everything is possible in his dreams, right?

Getting up turns out to be one of the hardest things he ever did in his life – and Chifuyu helped to pull a carriage out of the muddy banks of the town’s river once, although his arms felt like literally falling off any moment.

The world around him starts to spin mercilessly as soon as he manages to struggle to his feet and he nearly falls down, one, two, three times in the process of stumbling forward towards the door. It’s only a distance of like ten feet, but to him it appears to be hundreds of miles. Every wobbly step is like walking on jelly and looking back, Chifuyu can’t really tell how he manages to arrive or rather crash into the door, holding on for dear life in a desperate need for some kind of support. 

Breathing heavily, Chifuyu takes a moment to collect himself. Tiny droplets of sweat roll down his forehead, but he still needs to get that damn chair away from the handle. 

With shaky hands he wraps his fingers around the backrest, shoulder leaned against the door, as he wills every muscle in his body to pull the old piece of furniture away. 

It shouldn’t be so hard to move a damn chair, really, but with arms heavy as lead he is more than relieved when the handle is finally unblocked.

Panting, he takes another moment to rest, but the thought of Kazutora waiting for him to show himself is like oil for a fire. Chifuyu doesn’t want him to do something rash like burst into this room last minute just to check on him. So he forces himself to grab the handle and pull the door open.

His first instinct is to narrow his eyes when the outside world greets him with far too bright light. Everything around him feels surreal and wonky like a blurred image. Another indicator that this is just a nice (and very exhausting) dream, but Kazutora’s voice rips him out of every dizzy thought.

“It’s right there!“ he shouts from his spot behind the wooden fence that surrounds the land and gestures urgently to the ground.

Chifuyu’s heart drops and he tries to cling to this image, to Kazutora’s face in the distance, the amber in his eyes he never thought to see again, but something inside pressures him to avert his gaze and look for the miracle he doesn’t believe in.

It’s there, right at the doorstep. A matchbox with the size of his palm, plain like a pebble on the roadside.

Hand clutched around the handle, he gets down to his shaky knees, trying to appear as stable as possible. Chifuyu really doesn’t want Kazutora to worry about him more than he already does.    

The box is light as stardust and probably just as real. He tightly wraps his fingers around, not bothering to take a closer look, but if he did, he’d see a surreal figure drawn on it. Contoured by thin, brown lines, there’s something like an eyeball at the bottom with white branches growing out into a tree shape and small red dots at the top on a gray surface. It’s rather disturbing than comforting.

Chifuyu can feel amber eyes on him the whole time and he tries to throw a comforting smile into Kazutora’s general direction, but it’s rather a pinched grimace.

“You need to take all of the powder!“ Kazutora reminds him again, restless on his spot in the distance, but he stays true to his words and remains where he is.

Chifuyu nods and whispers, “Thank you“ into the wind with words too weak to ever reach Kazutora. Then he withdraws into the house, unable to go on with pretending that this doesn’t cost him every last bit of strength left in his weak body.
With the door ajar, he sinks to the ground like a wet sack, back leaning against the wall. Pearls of sweat run down his neck and his clothes stick to his body like a second skin as he pants heavily, keeping the matchbox close to his heart. 

Chifuyu has no idea how Kazutora got his hands on this so-called magic cure, but he probably went through a lot and his heart aches and clenches with worry and affection for the boy who holds his heart. 

He is very aware that this won’t work. It’s a children’s tale for the most desperate ones, but the gesture speaks for itself and in a way, he is glad. Now Kazutora can’t blame himself for not trying enough and it’s comforting to imagine that this will make things more bearable for him. 

Self-deception gets so much easier when you’re about to die, huh.

With trembling fingers and his vision blurred at the edges, Chifuyu fumbles the box open and is greeted by a yellowish powder resembling phosphor. It smells of nothing, which is very fitting when you think about it, for nothing will come out of this. Neither in his dreams nor in reality.

Nevertheless, he leans back his head and opens his dry lips enough to fit in the powder. It tastes bitter on his lips, making him scrunch his face, but he swallows every bit without any complaints. At least it tastes like medicine. 

There’s nothing at first, except for a nasty aftertaste and a dry throat. Chifuyu ponders whether he should try crawling to the water bottle next to his provisory sickbed when suddenly, it kicks in.

Through the past hours and days Chifuyu went through different stages of pain and if he ever thought he overcame the worst and can bear whatever this disease will throw at him, he is proven wrong in this exact moment. He didn’t know shit about real pain up till now.

It’s clawing at his insides with nails sharp enough to slit a throat, pouring acid into the throbbing wounds. It burns, it stings, it aches, cracks his skull open with a hammer, sets his guts and blood on fire. Burning alive. He is burning alive from the inside, the exploding pain drawing sounds from his lips that aren’t human. Bile is crawling up his throat and Chifuyu heaves it out with a guttural scream, arms wrapped around his body like a vice tight enough to bruise his own skin.

This isn’t a dream, he realizes. It’s the first realization out of two. This is a nightmare, one of the most gruesome kind, because it’s real. 

The second realization is that this wonder cure isn’t meant to heal. No, it’s meant to kill the disease in the most brutal and final way, for when the host is dead the parasite can’t survive. 

Die . Chifuyu is going to die here and he will never know whether it’s mercy or punishment, because it’s just as unbearable as it’s fast to end. 

There’s only so much the human body can bear before falling into sweet oblivion and when cold darkness embraces him like an old friend, his last thoughts are with Kazutora. 

Chifuyu wakes up in paradise.

He knows before he opens his eyes with the scent of chestnuts lingering in the air like a ghost. Kazutora always collects them in his pockets, either as a weapon or for his mother to make soap and detergent if she cares enough for it. To him, this scent is connected to Kazutora like the stars to the night sky. 

A hand is buried in his hair, gently stroking through the strands with the care of a painter who draws on eggshells. His head is resting on something softer than the floor, but it’s too warm and firm for a mattress. 

When Chifuyu blinks his eyes open he meets a pair of glistening gold, like raindrops bathing in sunlight. They grow wide, reflecting just as much dread as there is hope hidden in them. 

“Chifuyu…” Kazutora croaks out, voice heavy with emotions and something wet and warm dripples down on Chifuyu’s face. 

Using his sleeve, Kazutora hastily rubs his tears away and throws him a pained smile. “You’re awake.” His eyes drown in new tears and when he shows his teeth it gives him an even more torn look. 

His face is hollow, the bags under his eyes black like cole. Drops of red and brown stain his white jacket, resembling dried blood and mud. His right hand is wrapped in dirty bandages, but it’s not done with the precision and care of an adult. 

“Fuck, you’re awake…” Kazutora lowers his head until their foreheads touch, hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him into a tight, clumsy embrace, “You scared me,“ he whispers, body trembling to the sound of choppy breaths.

Confused, Chifuyu gently pats Kazutora‘s head, trying to bring sense to any of this. His mind is blank and there’s nothing except that nagging thirst as if he didn’t get any water for a whole week.

“What happened?“ he forces out raspily and triggers a dry cough. “Could you – water.“

“Yeah! Yeah, of course!“ Hastily, Kazutora retreats, followed by the sound of a glass bottle hitting the floor. Cursing under his breath, Kazutora reaches out and then hands over a half emptied water bottle to him.

Chifuyu drinks greedily, water spilling over his dry lips as he hoists himself into an upright position but his body screams for every drop he can get right now. Panting, he wipes his mouth clean and then turns to face Kazutora.

“How do you feel?“ Kazutora examines him closely, wary for any sign of pain or distress.

“I… don’t know,“ he admits, eyebrows drawn together thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m supposed to be dead, but – wait, why are you here? You should stay away from me!“

Fear is crawling up his spine, urging Chifuyu to get away immediately, but something tells him that it’s okay. It’s more of a hunch than anything else, but a strong one, like when you go to bed with a heavy head, thinking to yourself it might rain soon and wake up to a roaring thunderstorm at night.

Meanwhile, Kazutora admits with a sheepish smile, “I couldn’t. When I heard your screams, I couldn’t stay away.“ He gestures wildly into the air. “But it should be okay! They said it’s supposed to cure you immediately. So… what do you think?“ It’s nearly painful to see the amount of hope reflecting in Kazutora’s expression.

Carefully, Chifuyu touches his forehead. It's neither warm nor sticky. His throat feels normal too, limbs aren’t impossibly heavy or aching and although his thoughts are still a bit slow, the world around him doesn’t spin or feel weird at all, which is… weird in itself. He should be sick and dying. Instead he feels strangely… okay. Not great, but okay.

“I feel quite normal, I guess. I’m exhausted and I need a shower but… I don’t feel sick at all,“ Chifuyu concludes, surprised by his own words. 

How can this be…? 

“So it worked…” Kazutora brings just enough distance between them to watch him closely, framing his face with gentle fingers on his cheek. His eyes are a sunset, gold drowning in shades of puffy red, but his tears aren‘t born from sadness or despair anymore. 

Nevertheless, it’s not easy to see Kazutora like this and Chifuyu can only imagine what he went through these past days.

When their lips meet it’s like salvation. Softly, they melt against each other, easing fears and worries and the tension in their shoulders. It’s like a forbidden dream coming true and when tiny drops begin to form at the corners of his eyes, Chifuyu welcomes them with gratitude in his heart.

They kiss and cry for what feels like a beautiful eternity, with no words needed between them. The silence, warmth and intimacy they share speak louder than any language ever could. It’s a safespace, where the terrors of the outside world can’t reach them and for some golden moments they allow themselves to remain here.

When they share a handful of dried fruits, head resting comfortably on Kazutora’s shoulder, with a soft and content smile on his lips, Chifuyu carefully leads them back into reality though.

“I still can’t believe this…,“ he mumbles, munching on a dried apricot. “I mean – how did you do this?“ Chifuyu gestures vaguely towards the empty shmowder package. The mere word still sounds ridiculous to him, but he won’t mock a substance that actually saved his life – although it felt like it’d kill him at first.

Chifuyu notices how Kazutora tenses slightly, before he wraps his arms around his middle and drags him closer. “It’s a secret,“ Kazutora mumbles into his blond hair, to which Chifuyu raises his eyebrows.

Carefully, he turns his head, trying to face Kazutora who hides in the crook of his neck.

“What kind of secret?“ Chifuyu prods warily and gets a small smile in return, followed by a butterfly kiss on the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Nothing you need to worry about.“

“Kazutora – “

“I’m tired. Let me take a rest now, would you?“

Chifuyu wants to argue but bites back his urgent questions for now. He can’t deny Kazutora a break and honestly, he is still quite exhausted himself.

“Fine,“ he grants with a soft sigh and leans in for another kiss that nearly eases the bad feeling in his guts. But Chifuyu is a realist as much as he is an idealist so he knows that something happened and if he knew about the details – if he looked close enough into Kazutora’s eyes to see the signs of inner turmoil; of bone crushing guilt – he might have acted differently.

But with his mind and limbs still tired from the defeated disease and Kazutora’s silent pleas for a bit more time in their own little heaven, Chifuyu doesn’t think about it too much.

In hindsight, he isn’t sure whether to curse or thank Kazutora for that.

It’s amazing how easily your life can fall apart twice in the span of a few days.

Chifuyu really thought he had been through the worst. Escaping death is supposed to be the peak of your worst-life experiences, isn’t it?

But he didn’t know about the price for his life – or rather the price Kazutora had been willing to pay.


Kazutora is a traitor.

Kazutora betrayed Toman.

Kazutora is with Valhalla and now Baji is dead.

Kazutora killed Baji.

Valhalla declared war to Toman.


It echoes through Chifuyu’s mind like a broken vinyl record, over and over and over again – and he still can’t comprehend what it‘s supposed to mean.

It doesn’t make any sense. Baji can’t be dead just as Kazutora can’t be a member of Valhalla, their number one enemy.

The conflict between Toman and Valhalla smolders for something like a year now.

It’s nothing new that another gang forms and tries to challenge Toman, but most of them are as persistent as a mayfly. Valhalla, however, is a different story. They never attacked straightforwardly, rather pulling their strings in the background, waiting for an opportunity to deal a critical blow.

Some of the poorer districts of the city have become Valhalla territory and Mikey only allows it because they never bothered him or one of his precious friends personally. A couple of Toman members got beat up when they entered Valhalla‘s grounds, but it’s rather been something like small quarrels and nothing to start a war about. As a gang member you always need to be prepared for conflict.

This is a totally different story though – and it’s something personal in every way possible.
 

Refusing to believe any of these rumors involving Kazutora, Valhalla and Baji (although he heard it from Draken, Mitsuya and Mikey himself), Chifuyu doesn’t hesitate to get into action.

For now, he doesn’t care about the ongoing plague that nearly killed him. Doesn’t care that his friends told him about Valhalla’s declaration of war brought through Baji’s blood stained gang jacket by none other than Kazutora.

Instead, he will confront Kazutora in person, demanding answers to the fucking mess he left him with.

After Chifuyu recovered enough to leave his shelter and return home to his mom, Kazutora kissed him goodbye with a fervor that seemed only natural after everything that happened. Chifuyu never expected to be confronted with this bullshit when he showed up at the Polyhedron to meet with Toman the next day. 

It just can’t be true! There’s no way in hell!

With clenched jaw and fists he rushes through the dirty streets, passing abandoned buildings where the plague left nothing but death and emptiness. Grim soldiers block the entrance to the infected districts, but luckily, Chifuyu reaches his destination without any problems.

Valhalla’s territory involves the Station and the Warhouse , both located in the south of the city. Setting a foot in there is a provocation in itself, but Chifuyu is willing to fight his way to Kazutora if he must. His condition isn’t the best, the aftermath of the disease still lingering in his bones, but right now he couldn’t care less.

Fueled by his anger he heads for the Warehouse first, where the roofs are round like mounds and the walls are made of corrugated iron without any plaster to keep the wind from creeping into the tiny gaps between the plates.

He finds Kazutora by chance, back leaned against one of these iron walls, slumped down, with his hands buried in the depths of his bright jacket. The white of Valhalla’s gang uniform stings in Chifuyu’s eyes like a nasty cut on pale skin and he can’t bite back his worry strucken anger.   

“Kazutora!“ It sounds more like an order than a greeting and it may not be smart to shout out his name in the enemy's territory, but Chifuyu isn’t in a mood for hide and seek.

Nevertheless, the way Kazutora‘s body flinches causes a slight ache in his chest. His eyes grow wide with surprise, with utter shock as he recognizes Chifuyu, looking at him as if he sees a ghost.

“We need to talk. Now!“

In a flash Kazutora dashes forward and covers his mouth with enough force that it nearly counts as a punch. “What the fuck are you doing here?“ Kazutora hisses in a whisper, glaring down at Chifuyu, but he seems more worried than upset.

Warily he turns his head, checking their surroundings for unwanted attention, before he clasps Chifuyu’s upper arm tight enough to bruise and drags him into a narrow alley. Chifuyu struggles against him out of spite, but follows until they reach the back of a worn down storage hall. Only then Kazutora loosens his grip and releases his mouth, to which Chifuyu replies snarling, “What the fuck are you doing?” Wriggling his arm free, he sends Kazutora a scowl. 

“What’s all of this bullshit supposed to mean? You, joining Valhalla?” Chifuyu grits his teeth, trying to force out the next words. “Killing Baji? What the hell, Kazutora?”

Kazutora flinches as if he’s being suckerpunched in the stomach, taking a step back, his eyes wide with panic. “Lower your voice! If they find you here – ”

“Kazutora!” Someone shouts out his name with a vaguely familiar singsang in his voice that makes Chifuyu’s skin crawl with unease. Hanma. This is Shuju Hanma. “Where are you, huh? Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?”

The way Kazutora tenses is like the natural instinct of prey in response to a predator. His movements are quick and sharp, his grip tight and relentless when he grabs Chifuyu’s shoulders and pushes him against the wall hard enough to press the air out of his lungs. In blind panic Kazutora’s head snaps left to right and Chifuyu can’t even form a proper question in his mind before he is being shoved behind a pile of stacked wooden boxes, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process. 

While scraping his elbow nastily at the weatherbeaten wood, he shoots a confused look at Kazutora and is met with an expression of overwhelming horror. 

In a silent plea Kazutora presses his forefinger against his lips and urgently shakes his head, golden eyes brimming with fear.

Chifuyu purses his lips in dismay but nods curtly and hides deeper in the shadows. He has barely seen Kazutora like this and his guts turn into a tight knot when he tries to imagine the reason for his behavior. 

Restlessly, Chifuyu waits behind the boxes and his only reassurance is that Kazutora isn’t far away, keeping watch at the corner of the house.

“Man, I really hate disobedience, you know?” Hanma shouts another casual warning into the cold evening air as if he is aware that Kazutora is listening, but his steps seem to wither. 

They wait for another five minutes in tense silence, before Kazutora lets out a choppy sigh and carefully returns into his field of view. He is visibly on edge, mind probably racing a hundred miles per second with every possible worst case scenario he can come up with. 

“Kazutora,” Chifuyu starts, trying to keep his voice as calm and reassuring as possible. Kazutora looks like a total wreck, close to falling apart any moment. “Tell me what happened. What… did you do?”

Kazutora lowers his gaze immediately, fingers fiddling nervously at the dirty bandages that are still wrapped around his injured hand. 

“I just wanted to save you”, he whispers. “I never meant to – please. You need to believe me. I never wanted this to happen, I – ” Violently, he clenches his own fist around his wounded hand, squeezing it tightly as an act of self punishment. “I swear – ”

“Kazutora.” He cuts him off gently, covering Kazutora’s unscathed hand to carefully move it away and prevent him from hurting himself even more. It’s like pulling out a splinter of a tiger’s paw, where every wrong move backs him even further into a corner. 

Exhorting himself into calmness, Chifuyu reaches for his troubled face and lets his palm rest on Kazutora’s cheek, softly squeezing the nervous hand that still lies in his.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, Kazutora complies, meeting his gaze with torn eyes shimmering with tears he tries to choke back. The knot in Chifuyu’s guts tightens, but he swallows the bitter taste on his tongue down and leans in for a gentle kiss. They both need something to ease their hearts.

Kazutora is strangely stiff at first before he allows himself to sink more into the soft contact of their lips, but some distance still remains. It’s like he built a wall around his heart, blocking everyone out he wants to keep close. A needle of fear punctures Chifuyu’s heart, but he doesn’t allow himself to give in to it.

“Now, tell me what happened,” he asks instead, trying his best to keep his composure. 

Kazutora nods slightly, but immediately avoids his gaze – and then he starts to talk.

He tells him about the rumors on the streets. About the kids who let the name Shuji Hanma drop in exchange for a dull needle and a piece of chalk. About the way he rushed to Valhalla’s territory and fought his way to Toman’s sworn enemy.

Hanma wore a smug grin on his face, eyes glistening with vicious amusement when Kazutora asked for a shmowder, the miracle that isn’t supposed to exist.  

Feasting on people’s despair like flies on a dead piece of meat, he made Kazutora an offer: a miracle for betrayal. If he broke bonds with Toman and joined Valhalla, he’d get a shmowder in return. 

Determined to save him by all means, Kazutora didn’t hesitate to make a deal with the town’s devil, even though he traded for a children’s tale. And the price was so much higher than expected.

As a proof of loyalty, Hanma demanded of him to bring a witness. A high member of Toman, in front of whom Kazutora was supposed to switch sides. His first and best friend. Baji. 

It didn’t take much to convince Baji. Trusting Kazutora with his life, he didn’t even ask any questions. When Kazutora tried to explain it anyway, Baji just said, “It’s for Chifuyu, isn’t it?” and when he got the confirmation he said that’s all he needs to know. 

Deeply unsettled, Kazutora brought him into Valhalla’s hideout, trying to calm himself with the fact that Baji was one of the strongest persons he knew. Whatever Hanma planned, Baji would be okay. At least that’s what he thought – but he didn’t consider Hanma’s cruelty. With the brightest smile on his face, he told Kazutora to kill Baji. Only then he would allow Kazutora to join Valhalla and get the miracle Chifuyu never believed in. 

At this point, Kazutora’s voice breaks in the most heart wrenching way, leaving Chifuyu with an ache in his heart that leaves a scar. 

“I couldn’t,” Kazutora whimpers hoarsely, body shaking with the ghost of this memory. “I fucking couldn’t – of course I couldn’t. But Baji, he – ” Violently, he shakes his head, taking a step back to bring distance between them and Chifuyu is too stunned to stop him, allowing Kazutora to withdraw his hand from his gentle grip. 

“He smiled at me,” Kazutora whispers. “He smiled and told me to take care and save you and then he took a fucking knife and stabbed himself!” The words spill out of his mouth like blood from a gaping wound and Chifuyu can do nothing but stare, unable to comprehend any of this.

It even makes sense, in a surreal way and Chifuyu can imagine the scene crystal clear in his head, Baji’s broad smile and bold words and knowing gaze. How he tries to reassure Kazutora and take the burden of deciding between his best friend’s life and the life of the boy he loves from him. How he gives his own life for the sake of his friends, for the sake of him and Kazutora, because that’s just the person Baji is. 

“I could do nothing. I was right there and could do nothing when Baji stabbed himself and I – ” Clenching his jaw and fists with shaking effort, Kazutora lifts his head to meet his horror-stricken eyes, face nothing but a torn mask of guilt and despair. 

“It’s my fault that he’s dead, okay!? Because of me Baji is dead!” His voice is sharp like an accusation, shrill and hoarse with growing hysteria, turning this into a matter of fight-or-flight, but Chifuyu isn’t scared of this tiger’s claws and he absolutely won’t allow him to get away like this.

Dashing forward he wraps his arms around the trembling body in front of him, hands resting on Kazutora’s head and back for support, keeping him together as he falls apart with miserable sobs and choking breaths. Kazutora tries to break free, palms pressing urgently against Chifuyu’s chest in a desperate attempt to push him away. He shakes his head heavily with words falling from his lips like shattered glass.

“No… go away…” He increases his efforts, pushes and claws his fingers into Chifuyu’s shirt, torn between his urge for distance and the urge to keep him close. “Let go of me and go away!”

Kazutora’s desperation cuts through his soul like a rusty blade and every sob, every broken noise that he forces out is salt in Chifuyu’s throbbing wounds, but he clings to him even tighter, refusing to let go even for the idea of a heartbeat.

They break down together, pebbles scraping Chifuyu’s skin when his knees hit the hard ground. The fabric of Valhalla’s jacket feels cold under his fingertips, forming a sharp contrast to the hot tears that dribble down onto Chifuyu’s collar bone like heavy rain.

It doesn’t take long for Chifuyu to join in, vision blurring at the edges, but he allows the sorrow in his heart to bloom, knowing that this pain needs to be felt. And he is glad that he can share it with Kazutora. Hold him through it all and be held in return. 

They tremble and cry together on the dirty ground until Kazutora’s body softens noticeably in his embrace, too exhausted for more tears and sobs. Drawing small, reassuring circles on his back, Chifuyu gives him some moments to rest, before he carefully leans back enough to press his forehead against Kazutora’s, fingers combing reassuringly through his hair.

“It’s not your fault,” Chifuyu whispers, ignoring his own inner tumult due to the question of guilt. “Baji…” He exhales deeply, trying to collect himself. “Decided this on his own.”

The words taste stale, like a cheap excuse to ease his own poisonous thoughts, reminding him that he alone is the reason for this tragedy. He was supposed to die, not Baji! But for now, Chifuyu keeps that to himself and shoves it into the darkest corner of his mind. It’s a battle he will fight on his own, later, when he is alone and has time to process all of this. 

Kazutora’s lips are chapped and salty when he meets them for a gentle kiss and Chifuyu can sense his hesitation even before he is faced with the signs of uncertainty and doubt in his puffy eyes.

He knows Kazutora well enough to read what’s on his mind, all the cruel lies trying to convince him that he doesn’t deserve any kindness, doesn’t deserve his love anymore, but Chifuyu won’t allow him to fall for it.

Trying for a weak smile, he cups Kazutora’s cheek and softly brushes away his tears with his thumb. The look Kazutora gives him is careful, nearly shy, resembling rather a beaten stray cat than a tiger and there’s a familiar ache in Chifuyu’s heart, an old reminder that he never learned to be worthy of someone’s love and affection, always expecting the worst.

“Let’s go home,” Chifuyu says quietly, caressing Kazutora’s cheek tenderly. “To Toman. Where you belong.” 

Kazutora freezes, retreats, signs of inner conflict twitching across his face, leading to a tormented grimace of guilt and dread. “I can’t. I’m not – ”

“They’ll understand,” Chifuyu chimes in. “ When we tell them what happened, they’ll understand. I know they will!”

“No, it’s not that easy. Even if you’re right, Hanma won’t let me go. I – can’t go back...” Kazutora’s words are drenched in desperation and Chifuyu can feel him slip away from his touch like summerwind, fueling his own inner turmoil. 

“Of course you can!” he insists fiercely, hands grabbing Kazutora’s shoulders to keep him in place. To make him understand that they can and will find a solution! “ We will fight this bastard and make him pay! Mikey won’t allow him to get away with – “ He swallows the bitter taste and thoughts of Baji’s name trying to creep into his mind. “This! Toman won’t!” 

“You don’t understand!” Kazutorar raises his voice, eyes wide with terror. “This guy is dangerous and if I don’t do as he says – ” Clenching his teeth, Kazutora shakes head as if to get rid of a particularly tormenting notion. “I made a deal. There’s no turning back.” His voice is much quieter now, the undertone hollow and numb. When he lifts his head to meet Chifuyu’s gaze, he looks defeated. Resigned. 

“I’m a part of Valhalla now and since they, no, since we declared war on Toman, you’re supposed to be my enemies now, so… don’t come back here. It’s not safe for you, Chifuyu.”

“What?”

“They’ll do the worst to you! Force me to hurt you!” Visibly upset, Kazutora breaks free from his grip and gets back to his feet, arms spread widely in front of him in a helpless gesture. “So please, just go back and never come here again.” It’s a desperate plea, followed by a declaration of enmity. “From now on, you need to stay away from me, Chifuyu. If I ever see you in Valhalla’s territory again, I have to – ” He inhales deeply, face blank but determined. “Attack you. Without holding back. So please, don’t make me. Don’t make me fight you.” 

“Kazutora – ” Hastily, Chifuyu jumps to his feet, trying to approach him, to argue against this bullshit, but suddenly, there’s a heavy fist colliding with his abdomen, forcing him to a sudden halt.

Time seems to pass slower as Chifuyu lifts his head, stares at Kazutora with eyes big as moons, gasping for air. A sharp pain explodes in Chifuyu’s stomach and a groan escapes his lips, but before he can even do as much as blink there’s another punch, aimed at his temple this time.

“I’m sorry. But I need you to stay safe…” Someone, Kazutora, murmurs. 

Chifuyu doesn’t fight back, doesn’t resist, caught by the torn expression in these golden eyes he always loved to get lost in. It’s the last thing he sees before his vision darkens, accompanied by an apologetic whisper that will haunt his mind forever.

“I love you. So please stay away from me.”

Chifuyu wakes up to the cry of ravens and golden rays of sunlight that remind him of his favorite eye color. The ground underneath him is solid and furrowed, dark wood, the Polyhedron his mind offers helpfully. 

There’s the memory of a dull ache in his body, but Chifuyu ignores it in favor of sitting up, blinking confused into his surroundings. He remembers the back of an abandoned storehouse, an earthy ground, tears and kisses and a farewell he refused to give – and heavy punches. 

“You’re awake,” the familiar voice of a friend states and a bottle of water is immediately offered to him. Draken’s expression is serious and he might appear intimidating at first glance, but the heart underneath his hard shell is soft like a warm blanket. 

“What happened?” Chifuyu mumbles confused, looking for the face of a certain someone, although he already knows deep in his heart that he isn’t here. “Where is – ”

“He brought you to me,” Draken states without needing to hear the name in question and nods towards the bottle in his hands, urging him to take a sip. Chifuyu complies, but watches Draken closely as he continues to explain, “Kazutora carried you on his back and begged me to not ask any questions and just take care of you. He said you’re just unconscious and that he doesn’t want any trouble – he just wants you to be safe.” 

Chifuyu opens his mouth to say something, but Draken interrupts him by raising his palm to add another thought.

“I let him pass but told him to be careful. He isn’t welcome here anymore and if Mikey sees him, I don’t know what will happen.”

“But he means no harm!” Chifuyu insists. “If you want to put the blame on someone, put it on me or that bastard Hanma, but – ” He forces himself to pause, trying to calm himself down and collect his thoughts. “I need to talk to Mikey. To everyone. We need a crisis meeting. Mikey needs to know that – ”

“First of all, you need to take a fucking rest. You nearly died just a damn day ago and there’s still a deadly plague spreading in this city like wildfire, so take a step back, Chifuyu.” Draken talks with the firmness of an adult, appearing much older than he actually is. “It’s hard enough to keep Mikey from any rash decisions and we already lost Baji, Kazutora and nearly you. Whatever you want to say can wait until tomorrow.”

Chifuyu wants to argue, but he knows that Draken is right. His head throbs awfully and even the notion of getting up and taking a single step is exhausting to no end, but the thought about Kazutora keeps him on edge. 

“Stay here a little longer, get some more rest and then I’ll bring you home.”

With a defeated sigh, Chifuyu nods weakly. In his current condition there’s nothing for him to achieve. He is well aware of that. But he can’t just let it go so easily. 

“He didn’t do it, Draken,” Chifuyu says quietly, gaze lowered to the folded hands in his lap. “He didn’t.” He swallows. “Kill Baji.”

Draken’s eyes are clearly on him now, giving him his undivided attention and Chifuyu lifts his head to meet them, dispelling any potential doubt on his words. 

“Baji killed himself. When Hanma ordered Kazutora to kill him, Baji stabbed himself.” A haunted smile tears at the corners of his mouth and his vision gets all blurry. “They both just wanted to save me,” Chifuyu chokes out, hastily wiping his sleeve over his eyes. 

“We’ll figure something out.” Draken’s hand on his shoulder is a reassuring weight and Chifuyu gladly clings to that straw.

There’s another gentle squeeze, before Draken gets up with a sigh and gives him some space. He is always pretty good at reading the mood and Chifuyu is grateful for that.

Quietly, he pulls his knees towards his body to rest his head on them as he tries to collect himself. A thousand different memories cross his mind, some from the past, some from today, beautiful like a sunset, painful like a goodbye, bittersweet like a last kiss. Most of them are with Kazutora, but there’s also Baji, of course there is Baji and he still can’t comprehend that he’ll never see him again…

Chifuyu can’t tell how long he sits there in silence with dried tears on his cheeks and sorrow in his heart, but at some point, he finds himself fiddling with a small box in his hands.

It’s the plain container of a miracle he can’t help but to curse a little, for the price is one Chifuyu wouldn’t have been willing to pay, but he can’t blame Kazutora. He never would. Everything he did, he did out of love – and Chifuyu will do just the same.

He tightens his grip around the matchbox, determination flooding his blood like adrenaline before a fight.

It may not be in his power to perform another miracle, bringing back the life that has been taken, but he is capable of setting things right for Kazutora. For once, Chifuyu doesn’t care what he says. 

He won’t give up on Kazutora. Won’t allow this to be a one-sided trade. Hell no.

Chifuyu will save him back. No matter what.

Even if he has to fight the reaper a second time.