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He shut his eyes tightly as he brought his hand up to Momo's contact again. The flashing lights of a nearby police car battered his eyelids, trying to slip through, to make themselves seen.
There was nothing wrong, he told himself. He took a step closer towards the crowd.
They stood disorganized ahead of him, a fragile tension enclosing them. What should've been another mundane but warm afternoon rush now replaced with an unusual quietness. A dangerous quietness. That could easily swallow him whole if got too close.
They weren’t there because of him.
The phone began to ring. It reverberated through his hand, entangling with his dread.
He'd answer this time. He'd pick up and before Yuki even made it over there there would be a bright, energetic smile on the other end of the line.
Then he'd say he was okay and safe and -
The faint sound of a ringtone cut through his thoughts.
Barely noticeable past the hum of the voices of the crowd but noticeable to Yuki all the same.
He’d always notice when it came to him.
His breath caught in his throat, legs going rigid beneath him.
The crowd parted slightly, time seemed to slow with them.
A purple phone lay discarded alone. Its case irreversibly shattered but still weakly ringing an all too familiar melody.
An instrumentation of one of their songs. Yuki had made that variation just for him. Never to be released to the public, something just for their own two ears. And specifically a recent ringtone for when Yuki called -
All the air around him seemed to be sucked away.
With a final, despairing ring it fell silent, and Yuki felt his own phone clatter to the ground with it.
A person lay prone on the cold pavement next to it, limbs twisted in unnatural positions, almost unidentifiable.
There was a red halo centered at his head. The whites of his hair had turned a sickly shade of pink. The tattered remnants of his clothing soaked and plastered to too-pale skin.
And Yuki -
Yuki didn't understand what he was seeing.
The world seemed to collapse in on itself. The hushed murmurs of the crowd, the overwhelming lights of the police car, the frantic tapping of people typing on their phones.
All of it ceased to matter.
All that mattered. All his attention. It singled in on that person. That body.
Who should be moving.
Who should’ve been bouncing over to Yuki right at this moment with a warm smile of reassurance on his face.
He always had a liveliness, an uncontrollable buzz of energy that never stopped feeding those around him. That never stopped pulling Yuki in.
From the exhausting days they worked promoting to companies. From when he was in a slump of creativity when he was struggling to write a song.
He had always been there. With a supportive hand on his shoulder, the sweet tenor of his voice washing over him. An energy both rejuvenating and soothing. One that was always moving to a comforting and encouraging dance.
But -
He wasn’t moving right now.
He was being swallowed up by the red on the ground.
He was drowning and Yuki needed to be there.
Yuki’s legs found themselves stumbling forward on their own. He moved through the crowd, uncaring of the barely filtered sounds of surprise from the people he pushed aside.
His only focus on him, that person, that body.
Who had always been his focus.
He was his focus the day he received that letter that changed the trajectory of his life all those years ago. He was his focus every single day in the present he spent thankful to have him as a partner.
There was never a time, never a thought, never a want where he wasn't his focus.
Wasn't his purpose.
Sometimes they have different jobs where they couldn’t be with each other throughout the day, but they always come back together in the end.
They weren’t separated now. He was right there in front of him. Just a few more steps and he’d be there.
So why was it so hard to focus now?
His vision blurred.
Why was it so hard to walk toward him now?
Hands reached out and grabbed his shoulders as he tripped.
A person’s face swam into vision, hands squeezing tight, "-ou can't come any furthe-"
He ripped himself away from the hands, staggering backwards into someone else behind him.
They were trying to keep him away. They were trying to keep him away from him. He wouldn’t let them. They didn’t matter right now.
None of them mattered.
The only person that mattered was -
The only person that has ever mattered was -
Suddenly, a shriek pierced through the haze, “Oh my god. Is that Momo from Re:vale!?”
And all at once Yuki felt too real.
His knees, which he only just realized were shaking, gave out from beneath him. He crumpled to the ground. The person in front of him seemed to have just enough insight to grab his arm before he crashed onto the pavement completely.
He had just fallen, hadn’t he?
Fallen?
Is - Is that what happened?
He shakily turned his head upwards to the exterior of the building. A monster twisting its way through his chest up into his throat. Growing louder in volume the higher his gaze went.
A part of him was hoping, wishing, praying to whoever might be listening that this was a different building. That this was a different apartment, and he’d just come to the wrong one. After all, he’s terrible with directions. One time Momo had to help him find his car in one of the agency parking lots. Momo has always been good at that.
Momo couldn’t be - Momo wasn’t - That blooded, broken -
But then he saw it.
The skyrise balcony, eight stories up, right in the center of the building.
He’d recognize it anywhere. The two had many memories up there. The late-night conversations. The long-due rests after a day of work.
He’d recognize Momo anywhere too. He had recognized him. He just hadn’t wanted to believe that -
That -
His eyes widened as he slowly turned back to the body.
To Momo.
Momo was hurt.
Momo was bleeding.
Momo was -
His line of sight was abruptly blocked by someone bending down in front him. They were talking to him he vaguely recognized, tugging uncertainly at his arm.
He was -
His heart seized in his chest. The monster that had been steadily building clawed at his throat painfully. He felt as if he was burning from the inside out, his insides scorched raw, his heart exposed.
He needed to be able to see him.
He needed to be able to get to him.
He needed this person to move out of the way.
He attempted to shake his arm free of the person’s grip, twisting his body to the best of his ability to push past them. The person’s hold strengthened and he was easily held in place.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Yuki-san!”
A voice approached from behind.
He was trapped.
He couldn’t get to Momo. He couldn’t do anything. Just like back then. It was all his fault. All his fault. His fault.
There was a sharp gasp as if someone was choking.
Yuki felt like he was choking too.
It was so hard to breathe.
“My God - Momo-san - ” the voice keened, they were retching.
Then strong, large hands gripped at his back. The person’s fingernails digging, scratching through the thin fabric of his clothes into his skin. As if they were trying to clutch hold of something solid to keep from flying off into a storm.
The two people whispered hoarsely above him. The person that had been holding his arm loosened their hold.
A blurred, disconnected part of Yuki supplied this was his chance to go to Momo. That he should take this chance and push them both away.
But before he could do anything he was hauled up from the ground into someone’s shoulder. They had spun him around, turning him away from the direction he had just been facing.
Away from Momo.
“Don’t look, Yuki-san…" the person holding him said gently, but he could hear tears coating their voice.
He had already seen, though.
And he needed to go to Momo, but this person was leading him away. Pressing their hand to the back of his head to keep it in place, using their other arm to pull him in the other direction.
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything. Just like back then.
And Momo was -
“Ryuu-kun,” he hadn’t known that he recognized the man until he said the name out loud. The name somehow making its way past the monster ravaging his body, his voice broken beyond recognition.
“It’ll be alright, Yuki-san,” Ryuu whispered but the quiver in his voice betrayed him.
“Please,” he gasped, trying to push away from Ryuu’s shoulder. “Let me go. I need to be with him. He’s- He’s hurt.”
“Yuki-san…” he sounded strangled.
They pushed slowly back through the crowd.
People were crying and there were calls for an ambulance.
Just like before. But no, this was different.
Ban had been -
But Momo was -
After a moment, Ryuu finally took his hand away from his head and allowed Yuki to look up. The man’s eyes were red-rimmed, the normally golden hue of his skin an unnatural shade of white.
He had taken him to the back of the crowd.
That wasn’t right. He couldn’t be with Momo here. He automatically twisted around.
He found himself toppling over on his own feet though. Blinking before once again in the hold of strong arms. This time they were shaking.
He was shaking with them.
“You shouldn’t be there, Yuki-san,” Ryuu seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I think we should go to the hospital to get you checked out.”
“I’m not the one that needs to go,” it should have been obvious. He wasn’t the one that was hurt. He wasn’t the one that was bleeding. He wasn’t the one that was -
“There’s nothing you can do,” Ryuu’s voice almost too quiet to hear then cracked. A sob rippled up and through his throat. “I’m sorry, Yuki-san.”
Ryuu was crying.
Yuki didn’t understand what was happening.
That broken, bloodied body.
“I knew that Ryo had done something. I saw him walking downtown. He had said,” a wet gasp drew from the man, “but I thought I could make it here in time.”
His sobs grew in volume.
Other people were crying too.
The monster inside him twisted cruelly. Desperate to be heard, to be seen, to be understood.
Yuki was scared.
Scared just like how Momo had been most likely been when -
Oh God, Ryo had -
Momo had been -
“I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry,” Ryuu wouldn’t stop.
Yuki wanted him to stop.
“I told him he was powerless... That there was nothing he could do, but this -"
Yuki was suffocating.
Momo was -
"There's no coming back from this," Ryuu grasped at his hair painfully, “I couldn't do anything and now he’s g-gone! He’s dead!”
Momo was dead.
And it happened all at once.
There was a wail. Like a wounded animal certain of its own death.
The monster took him in completely. Devouring every last part of him with an uncontrollable savagery. Leaving nothing left but one last desperate thought towards an empty space in Yuki’s heart, never to be filled again.