Work Text:
These days, Touko had a defined bedtime routine. Get changed, clean teeth, wash face, brush hair, bed. Before Hope’s peak, before Byakuya, she never had a routine. If it was a good day, she’d get changed and clean her teeth. On a bad day, she’d crawl into bed still wearing her tired shabby uniform, hair un-brushed and whatever food she’d managed to eat still stuck between her molars.
Since moving in with Byakuya, he’d made sure she stuck to a bedtime routine. After realizing that she would often neglect certain key hygiene responsibilities, he encouraged her to mirror his pre-bed routine on the promise that he would not share a bed with her if her teeth went scrubbed. That was incentive enough.
Most days, they would do their routine together. Depending on how comfortable Byakuya was feeling with intimate displays of affection that particular day, they would undress each other in order to change into nightclothes. In the bathroom they would stand side by side as they brushed their teeth and wash their faces.
The next part was Touko’s favourite; they would return to the bedroom where Byakuya would undo her braids and gently brush out the lengths of hair. They would talk about the day or about Touko’s current work in progress novel or about how silly Yasuhiro had looked in the office. Some days he would brush her hair in silence. Touko loved it regardless of whether they talked or not. If they didn’t talk, she would close her eyes, feeling his hands run through her hair and listen to his controlled breathing. Everything about Byakuya was beautifully controlled.
That night Touko was alone in the bathroom. Byakuya had matters to attend to at the office concerning the remnants of despair rehabilitation and had advised Touko go on home without him, as he wasn’t sure how long it would take.
She spat out a mouthful of mint-flavoured foam into the sink. Placing her toothbrush back in the little cup above the sink, she mentally ticked off teeth cleaning.
Face washing next. Touko reached for the purple flannel on the towel rail, next to Byakuya’s green one. She ran it under the warm water and splashed it against her face, scrubbing at her eyes and mouth.
On the occasions Byakuya was away, she had to remind herself that he actually lived with her at all. Aside from the evidence of two people sharing the bathroom (the dual toothbrushes, the double set of towels, the little polaroid picture of them that Aoi snapped during an office party that Touko insisted they tack to the bathroom mirror), when Byakuya wasn’t physically present Touko would often slip back into the mentality that she was alone.
Her hand slipped and the flannel escaped her grasp, falling to the floor with a dull splat. For a moment, she merely stared at it, wondering how it got there.
At this point, Byakuya would pick it up with a murmur of ‘silly girl’ and hand it back to her, the smallest hint of a smile hidden behind his apparent irritation. But Byakuya wasn’t there. Touko shook her head. She really was a silly girl. She didn’t need Byakuya to do everything for her. He hadn’t been there to help while she was in Towa City where Komaru had been the silly girl who needed help all the time, not her.
Determined, she bent down and scooped up the flannel, intending to return to scrubbing her face and neck. On the way back up, she caught the hem of her nightie, hitching it up almost to her navel. She dropped the flannel in the sink and was about to drop the hem back to her knee when her eyes fell on the scars that blemished her upper left thigh.
The scars. These days, they didn’t much cross her mind. Occasionally she would remember them while changing or while in the bath, but would be able to push them to the back of her mind with positive thoughts of the conversation she’d had with Komaru or one of the other girls that day, or the way Byakuya held her at night, planting soft kisses on her forehead.
Now, however, they seemed to taunt her. Oh yes, they were saying, had you forgotten about us? Forgotten about her?
‘S-Shut up,’ whispered Touko, grasping the flannel in her fist.
We’re still here, Fukawa-san… I’m still here… You haven’t forgotten about me, have you?
Touko’s lip began to tremble. Her gaze locked eye contact with her reflection.
Forgotten about poor old Syo… Who protected you from all those nasty little boys…?
The eyes in her reflection glowed red.
How ungrateful of you, Fukawa-san.
Glowing red eyes and a protruding tongue burnt into Touko’s retinas and the scars on her leg seared with pain. In the mirror, blood began to drip from each tally mark, each mark of a life she had taken.
Drip, drip, drip.
Beginning to feel her knees weaken and eyes roll, Touko scrunched her eyes shut and scrubbed at the blood dripping down her knee. Scrub, scrub, scrub. If she rubbed at the scars enough maybe they would go away.
I’ll always be here, Fukawa-san…
‘S-Stop it!’ Touko rubbed at her leg harder, barely aware of the liquid spilling down her face. She daren’t look – that was probably blood too.
…Touko…
‘N-No, no, no!!’ The flannel burned against her skin but she had to rid her skin of the scars as sobs rocked her body because if the scars were gone then so was—
‘Touko, stop!’
A hand grasped her wrist. Touko froze.
The same hand tugged her fist away from her leg, prying open her fingers and removing the flannel from her grasp. She wanted to open her eyes but the prospect of seeing those terrible red orbs again scared her too much.
She found herself being moved into a sitting position on something cold and hard. Hands stroked her shoulders, and then waist then came to rest on her thighs. A small hiccup escaped her.
‘Look at me, Touko.’
Touko peeped out from between tear sodden lashes. Byakuya knelt at her feet, hands holding her thighs. She realized the cold hard thing she sat on was the edge of the bath. Byakuya’s hand covered the scars.
‘Am I b-bleeding?’ Touko hiccupped, raising her hands ready to cover her face should blood spill from under his hand.
‘No,’ replied Byakuya.
‘B-But there was b-b-blood—‘
‘There isn’t any blood.’
Touko allowed her lower lip to tremble. ‘I saw h-her.’ Her voice cracked on the last word.
‘Do you remember everything you’ve done since coming home from work?’ Byakuya asked, his tone calm, measured.
Touko nibbled her lip, trying to hold his gaze. There was something so calming about his scrutinizing blue eyes. ‘I… y-yes, I think so.’
‘Tell me what you did.’
‘I c-came home… and ate d-dinner. T-Then I r-read a chapter of that book Kirigiri got me for m-my birthday…’ She paused to take a deep breath. ‘T-Then I came up here and g-got changed… and… and then…’
Her eyes stung with the tears that filled them. Byakuya squeezed her hand, still covering the scars with his other hand.
When the sobs subsided enough to speak, Touko continued. ‘I c-cleaned my teeth… and washed my f-face but then I dropped the flannel a-and I saw… h-her.’ She gestured to her thigh. ‘S-She was taunting m-me.’
‘If you can remember everything,’ said Byakuya. ‘That means she wasn’t here.’
‘B-But she was! She was in the mirror—!’
‘But she didn’t take over,’ Byakuya cut across her, his voice stern. He gripped her hand. ‘She hasn’t been dominant since Towa City, when you were in control of her.’
Touko sniffed.
‘You are in control, Touko.’ Byakuya ran his thumb over Touko’s.
They sat in silence for a moment, Touko’s sniffling the only sound filling the bathroom.
Byakuya spoke. ‘Where did you get up to?’
Touko pointed to the flannel.
Byakuya straightened up and plucked his green flannel off the towel rail, leaving Touko’s sodden one in the sink. He ran it under the tap, squeezing out the excess water before turning back to Touko. Kneeling again, he gently dabbed at the tear tracks streaked down her face, at her trembling lip and tear streaked chin.
Touko’s heart ached as he straightened up and bestowed a kiss to her forehead. Byakuya couldn’t make Syo or the dreams go away but to have him there when she wakes from the nightmares was good enough for her.
‘Stand up,’ said Byakuya.
She stood on unsteady legs.
‘I’m going to brush your hair. Go and sit on the bed.’
Touko nodded and stumbled out of the bathroom to the bedroom. The main light was off, leaving only the bedside lamp to illuminate the bed they shared. She collapsed onto the edge of it. The walk hadn’t been a long one but her legs felt tired and achy.
Byakuya followed soon after, carrying a hairbrush. He hadn’t gotten changed, still in his work shirt and trousers but minus his jacket and shoes. She shuffled over to make room for him. The bed creaked as he clambered on, pulling Touko towards him so she sat between his legs, back to him.
Touko felt a slight tug as Byakuya removed the hair ties on each braid. Little shivers trickled down her spine as his fingers began to unravel the strands of hair. She allowed her eyes to drift shut, enjoying the sensation of his hands caressing her curtain of hair. Occasionally, Byakuya would encounter a knot that he would gently ease out with his fingertips. Usually when he brushed her hair, there would be moments when he would tug at it unintentionally, but tonight he took care to treat her as if she were a porcelain doll.
After Byakuya had brushed all of her hair, he began to braid it into a thick plait down her back. A small smile tugged at Touko’s mouth. Byakuya hadn’t known how to braid before they moved in together. He would watch her plait her hair every morning and one day he requested that he try. His first attempt hadn’t been very good but it was something he had been determined to master.
‘There,’ he said, tying one of the hair-ties around the end of the plait.
Touko leant back, snuggled against him. His chin rested on the top of her head. She liked the way they fit together. The way they balance out each other. The way they’d grown and changed and become closer over the years. She liked a lot of things about them.
‘I need to change,’ said Byakuya.
Reluctantly, Touko scooted out from her comfy spot and allowed him to fetch nightclothes from the drawer and disappear into the bathroom. She crawled to the opening of the sheet and slipped underneath, nestling herself in blankets until Byakuya returned.
He wasn’t gone long. The bathroom door soon slid open and he returned to the bed, now clad in pajamas. Touko threw back the sheets so that he could slot in beside her. As he did, he flicked off the bedside light.
Most nights, Byakuya wasn’t one for cuddling. They would both fall into bed after a long day at work and Touko would be the one to shuffle over to his side of the bed (with minimal protests from Byakuya, it has to be said) and drape an arm over his middle. After sex, Byakuya would be more inclined to be the big spoon to Touko’s little spoon, his breath washing over the back of her neck and lulling her into a calm sleep.
Tonight, Touko snuggled up to Byakuya’s chest, tangling her legs with his. Byakuya’s chin brushed against her forehead. Touko buried her face in the crook of his neck, arms clinging to him tight.
Neither needed to speak. They were perfectly happy listening to each other’s heartbeats and breathing, content in knowing that the presence of the other was there. Touko breathed in through her nose and inhaled his scent, the one she loved so. His arms held her and just as she felt herself drifting off into a dreamless sleep, she felt lips against the top of her head.