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The night after the second great battle that marked Shibuya’s near-destruction, Neku didn’t go directly home.
Beat had assumed this meant he wanted to stay at Shiki’s place, since the two of them were so incredibly close. Hell, everyone was certain the two of them were going to end up together. Between their tearful reunion, the fact that Shiki was Neku’s entry fee once, and the obvious mountain of compassion they have for one another, it seemed like a no-brainer. Neku and Shiki belonged together.
But when Neku turned and asked Beat if he could stay at his apartment instead for the night, Beat very nearly exploded on the spot. It took him so utterly by surprise, it took him a few moments to reply. When he did, it was a strangled, awkward, “ Of course, dawg,” to which Neku showed a saintlike amount of gratitude.
Which brings them to the present, where Beat is unlocking his apartment door and holding it open for his friend.
His friend, he reminds himself, who has been through too fucking much to have to deal with Beat making unwanted romantic advances. Regardless of how much it hurts to know Neku could never look at Beat the way he does with Shiki. How incredibly painful the chasm in his chest is, ripping through him like the Mariana Trench and leaving him bloody and raw in its wake.
But Beat loves and respects both his friends too damn much to do anything to jeopardize their relationship. So obviously, he keeps his feelings under wraps.
Right now, he’s just a guy hanging out with his best friend who he hasn’t seen in three years.
Yeah, that simplifies things.
“So uh,” he begins, pulling off his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack, “why you ain’t wantin’ to go home?”
Neku pulls his shoes off as well. “Well, you know how my parents do most of their work overseas, right? Apparently they’ve been gone for a week and it’ll be another month or so until they’re back. So I don’t exactly have a reason to go home right now.”
Beat may not be the greatest at book learning. He may not have the best grammar. But he knows people, and he knows exactly why Neku doesn’t want to go home.
“You’re afraid of bein’ alone?”
Neku immediately gets this defensive look in his eyes, like he’s embarrassed about it. Beat doesn’t know why. Anyone would be afraid of being alone after the sheer, unholy isolation he endured for three years.
Beat shrugs. “Ain’t nothin’ you’ve gotta be ashamed of, yo. I getchu.”
Neku’s expression softens. He lowers his attention to his feet. “Thank you.”
“No prob’. You hungry?”
As if in response, Neku’s stomach growls. He flushes in embarrassment, and Beat laughs boisterously. “Aight, aight, make yo’self comfy. I’ll get cookin’.”
The two of them part ways, and Beat decides on the simple omurice recipe he always made for Rhyme when they were both kids. It’s an easy enough recipe, and Rhyme called it a ‘comfort food’, whatever that means, so Beat assumes it’ll be a good way to get Neku’s mind off the past.
As Beat stirs the rice in his beat-up old frying pan, he casts a furtive glance over at Neku, who watches TV. He’s got his knees drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on them, and his blue eyes reflecting the shifting light of the TV screen. It’s endearing, and Beat lets his gaze linger on his friend’s form for a few moments longer than he should.
It’s a quarter to eleven by the time Beat finishes carefully placing the omelet over the fried rice on Neku’s plate. A late meal, he supposes, but they’re both hungry, and Neku won’t complain. He’s nice like that.
He’s just placing Neku’s plate in front of him when the doorbell buzzes, signaling the arrival of someone outside.
Odd. Beat doesn’t remember inviting anyone. A cursory glance at his phone also tells him that none of his friends texted him saying they’d be over. So Beat gives Neku an apologetic smile and says, “Jus’ gonna check who’s callin’ me downstairs. I’ll be back ‘afore you know it, yo.”
“Okay.”
When Beat reaches the ground floor and sees who’s waiting for him on the other side of the glass apartment door, he freezes. Blood running cold, he regards the woman staring daggers at him with nothing short of barely-masked terror.
She continues watching him, disdain heavy in her expression, and waits.
Beat knows that if he doesn’t answer the door, she’ll make his life hell in another worse way. So he swallows his fear and gives his mother a smile.
He’d almost forgotten the fear.
It comes back to him now, heady and suffocating, and his hand trembles as he pushes open the apartment door. “Hey, ma.”
“So you vanish for two weeks, with no contact at all, and act as though no time has passed. I’m disappointed, Daisukenojo.”
You’re always disappointed, he thinks, although he doesn’t speak it aloud.
“Sorry, ma, I got caught up wit’ some stuff.” Beat says without meeting her eyes.
“I contacted the restaurant you were supposedly working at and they said you’d been absent for so long that your employment was terminated. How ungrateful can you be? I got you a job there, and you refuse to take it seriously.” She scolds, her brows lowering over her icy eyes further as she speaks. “I worked my ass off to raise you, I gave you everything to succeed, and you refuse to acknowledge my efforts.”
“Sorry,” Beat apologizes, still without meeting her eyes, “but I have a job at Gatto Nero, y’know? I work full time, yo. And–”
“Don’t talk back to me, Daisukenojo. And speak properly.”
“I wasn’t talkin’ back–”
Her hand raises.
If this were the UG, with Noise and Reapers and the like, Beat would’ve fought back first and run later. But this isn’t the UG. This is the RG, and when his mother’s hand raises like that, Beat is a little kid once again who’d broken one of countless strictly enforced yet never spoken rules. And he reacts instinctively.
Beat’s arms shoot up to shield his face.
(He remembers the time he hadn’t been quick enough to prevent his father’s fist from hitting his face.)
He’s not quick enough.
( Like always.)
His mother’s hand connects audibly with Beat’s cheek, the force of it snapping Beat’s head to the side. And it doesn’t stop there.
As he’s reeling from the hit, her hand grabs at his hair, yanking his head up so he’s inches from her furious face. He knows he could easily fight back, potentially even enough to overpower her and flee back into the safety of his apartment building. But fear of harsher consequences clouds his mind, and despite knowing full well that he can do so, he closes his eyes tight and waits for it to be over.
“Do not talk back to me. I am your mother, and you should be grateful I slaved over raising you, wasting the best years of my life solely so you can squander away–”
“ Hey.” A voice colder than glacial ice cuts through the night air.
Beat opens his eyes to see his mother staring at someone behind him in shock. Only then does she release him, allowing him to turn to see who intervened. And it’s none other than Neku , who stands stiffly in the apartment building’s doorway with cold fury painted over his normally soft and gentle visage. His nails bite into his palms, and he moves stiff-legged to stand between Beat and his mother like a barrier.
“I don’t know the law well since it never really interested me,” Neku says viciously, “but I’m pretty sure that this counts as assault. And I’m not opposed to reporting you to the police immediately. I’m sure the security cameras here have enough evidence to back up Beat’s prosecution.”
Beat’s mother visibly pales, and she opens her mouth wordlessly as though wanting to argue. But at the same time, her eyes drift up to the barely-noticeable security camera over the apartment building’s door. She’s been caught off-guard, and it’s the first time Beat’s ever seen his mother like this.
“W-where did you even come from?” She manages to choke out.
“Shinjuku.” Neku replies flatly, in a tone like icy water over jagged rocks.
Beat’s mother regards Neku as though he’s a viper well within striking distance. Her eyes pass over Beat briefly before returning to Neku. She clears her throat, feebly attempting to regain her composure, and raises her chin.
“And who might you be?”
Neku draws himself up and sets his shoulders, implying a challenge.“I’m Neku Sakuraba, and I’m your son’s boyfriend.”
She snaps her attention to Beat immediately, who keeps his head down. Neku doesn’t budge in his rock-solid stance, keeping himself between Beat and his mother like a barrier. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t waver, and he doesn’t break eye contact.
He’s a monolithic refuge in a hurricane, and Beat is the weary traveler huddled behind it.
Finally, after what seems like forever, Beat’s mother gives the boys a curt nod and makes her way towards the parking lot. Only once her car has disappeared around the corner does Neku relax, immediately turning towards Beat with shock and sympathy in his eyes.
Beat doesn’t say anything, instead heaving a sigh and sitting down heavily on the apartment building’s steps. Neku sits beside him.
“I knew your relationship with your parents wasn’t great,” Neku says slowly, “but I didn’t know it was downright abuse.”
Beat lets out a humorless laugh. “It wasn’t dat bad this time.”
“That’s not exactly comforting.”
For a time, nothing is said.
Eventually, Beat rises to his feet and turns towards the apartment building’s door. Neku follows suit, remaining at Beat’s side like a shadow and refusing to fall behind him. It’s nice to know Neku’s with him, but the heartache that hangs over his head prevents Beat from feeling positive.
Once they’re inside, Neku shifts to stand in front of Beat. The movement catches Beat by surprise, and he flinches slightly when Neku takes Beat’s face in his hands. Neku must notice, because something like sorrow passes momentarily over his gaze. But he gently inspects the spot where Beat’s mother had hit him, his brows lowering over his eyes and his nose scrunching slightly.
“Her nails cut you a bit just below your eye. Have you got a first aid kit so I can take care of that?” Neku asks gently.
Beat nods. “Under da sink, yo.”
As Neku hunts for the first aid kit, Beat makes his way across the apartment to flop down on the couch. His hand makes its way slowly up to where his mother struck him, and he sighs at the revelation that there’s a little bit of drying blood there.
Neku returns, kneeling down in front of Beat. Beat leans forward so Neku can reach his face, and Neku murmurs a small ‘thank you’ before getting to work on Beat’s face.
It doesn’t take long, seeing as it’s only a small cut, but Neku is gentle and slow, being incredibly careful not to cause Beat any pain. And it’s so painfully soft, Neku working as though Beat is something to be treasured, something worth not hurting, that a lump forms in Beat’s throat.
Moments later, the tears start to fall.
Without skipping a beat, Neku rises and throws his arms around Beat’s neck. He pulls Beat’s head into his chest, running his fingers through his messy blond hair and murmuring gently, “It’s okay. It’s over.”
Shakily, Beat returns the gesture, wrapping his arms around Neku’s torso and grasping desperately at the back of Neku’s purple t-shirt as though he’ll slip away at any moment. Neku’s chin rests atop Beat’s head, and as Beat soaks the front of Neku’s shirt, Neku bitterly says, “I don’t know why anyone would want to treat you that way.”
“I dunno,” Beat chokes out, “but I been tryin’ fo’ years to make ‘em happy and nothin’ is ever good enough.”
“If they don’t see how much you’re worth and just how much you’re trying , then they never will. They don’t deserve your time or effort, and they’re stupid for not seeing how infinitely kind, compassionate, driven, and loyal you are. There’s so much more to you than how good you are at book learning, and who you are as a person should vastly outweigh how good you are at math or whatever.”
The words are kind enough to bring a new wave of tears with it, and Beat closes his eyes, clinging to Neku tighter. “I really missed you, yo. You always know jus’ whatta say.”
“I missed you too. More than you’ll ever know.” Neku says. “But I meant everything I said. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“But I–”
“No buts. You’re so much more than your parents think you are, and I only hope you start to see that yourself.”
As the tears begin to subside, the two of them pull away. Beat’s hands still rest on Neku’s hips, and Neku’s fingers still card through Beat’s hair, but the distance between them is enough to make Beat’s heart ache. Only then does he remember what Neku had said to his mother on the steps.
“Hey, uh…you said you was my boyfriend.”
Neku flushes red. “Yeah, I, uh…I’m sorry if that was uncalled for.”
“Naw, naw, you good,” Beat says, “ain’t you with Shiki though?”
Neku blinks. “I thought you knew she has a massive crush on Eri.”
“What.”
Silence.
Then, Neku bursts out laughing. “You’ve been working for them for a few years now…and haven’t noticed?”
Now that Beat thinks about it…yeah it’s pretty obvious. The way Shiki watches Eri at work, how she always goes out of her way to buy Eri flowers or new clothing items. Beat supposes he can blame not noticing it on the fact that he’d been focusing almost entirely on finding Neku for three years. But it still doesn’t stop him from reddening in embarrassment.
“I-I was focused on findin’ you! I ain’t had time to notice stuff like dat!”
Neku laughs softly, and Beat finds himself leaning into the sensation of Neku’s hands in his hair. Neku responds by gently running his thumbs over Beat’s cheeks. At the feeling, Beat practically melts, a shaky sigh leaving him in a rush as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Neku’s chest.
“Thank you for not giving up on me.” Neku says quietly.
Beat tightens his grip on Neku, letting his eyes slide shut. “I could neva’ give up on you, dawg.”