Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There's a lone carousel sitting in a vacant park.

The hollow chime of its exterior echoes through the area, and the atmosphere is blanketed in darkness. Below it are fluorescent lights that flicker and dim as the attraction turns. Slowly, it grinds forward. Always moving, but never progressing. It continues to spin in circles. Perpetually reaching for a destination that doesn't exist. It's all it knows how to do without a hand to operate the switch.

Suddenly, the machine breaks to a halt.

The pieces clinging to rusted metal fall apart and crush the light beneath it with blunt force. The image of childhood innocence shatters with a high-pitched whistle that gradually fades with the scene.

Everything turns black.

In the lingering chaos comes a haunting chime.

The carousel continues to turn in slow, clunky motions against all odds.

"Murase! You fucker!" A strong set of hands grab Taku by the neck and slam him against a wall. He hears the crack of bones- or something along those lines before he hits the floor. The music from inside the bar was overpowering everything in his surroundings. All he could see was bleeding red over colorful lights as a figure loomed over him- demanding answers. Answers that Taku didn't care to give him.

"Where do you get off kissing my girl!?" A deep laugh escapes his throat, and he looks up at the angry student with a confident smirk.

"Didn't taste like your girl to me." The fluorescent lights return, and another ear-piercing sound of crushed metal reverberates through his ears. His back hits the floor with a thud, and the younger student presses the bottom of his heel against his temple after kicking him.

"You're pathetic…! You're my damn senior, and this is how you behave?" He spits to get rid of the blood pooling up in his mouth, but it doesn't stop him from laughing.

"And I still get better grades than the teacher's pet Asakura~"

"You-!"

The world becomes a blank slate of blue and red flashes. Each kick elicits another laugh. Another turn of the carousel of misery. Behind closed eyes, it continues to spin faster and faster with each kick, hoping the next one will be the last.

The ground had never looked so comfortable.

In spite of all his bruises and the blood still trickling down his nose, he was by all means 'fine' compared to the other times he got into fights. 

He stumbles his way into his dorm and shuts the door but doesn't bother to lock it. There was nothing of interest in his room anyway. Nothing worth stealing, and nothing he didn't carry in his possession already. The faint buzz of the TV lingers in the background. He forgot to turn it off again.

Just as he's making his way past the table to search for a half-full can of beer, his phone goes off. With no curtains to block out the midnight sky, the moonlight pours in from the window and bathes the room in a deep blue glow. He's ready to just let the call fall through until he sees who's on the other end of the line. He clicks his tongue and answers in spite of his better judgment.

"Do you have any idea what time it is…?" The voice on the other end of the line doesn't care for his question, and outright ignores him completely.

"Get dressed. Someone's coming to pick you up." Taku stumbles past his table to grab a can of beer, but throws it to the floor after inspecting its contents. Empty.

"If this is your idea of a date," he digs through his back-pocket for his pack of smokes to wash away the taste of blood in his mouth. He bites a cigarette between his teeth to pull it out of the pack before picking up his lighter. Once it's fully lit and the smoke comfortably clouds his vision, he feels some semblance of calm wash over him. "-you suck at setting the mood, Toono." The other man was far more suffocating than the bitter taste of nicotine. Taku's reply seems to have angered him, and he sounds annoyed.

"Are you high?"

"Maybe? I thought you liked junkies." Taku recalled something about making them easier to control. Apparently, Toono enjoyed collecting them like trophies. Didn't seem like he was too interested in collecting male trophies in the same way.

"Murase, I need you to screw your head back onto your shoulders."

"It's past midnight," he inhales deep before letting out a slow, steady stream of smoke from his nostrils. He pulls the cigarette away from his lips and keeps it between his fingers to speak clearly. "-head is officially off. Call back tomorrow." Just as he's about to hang up and continue smoking in peace, he hears Toono laugh darkly.

"I guess I'll add a dead kid to your body count, 'Doctor' Murase." Taku's fingers stop before connecting the cigarette with his lips, and the world clicks back into place like a rubik's cube. The static in the air vanishes, and it's suddenly possible to feel pain again.

"...A kid?"

"No big deal. I get it. I'll just tell his poor mother that the good doctor I'm funding through med school has better things to do than save lives. She's pretty well-off, so I'm sure his tombstone will be very luxurious. She can always get a new kid, right?" Taku glares at his phone and presses the mute button just for a second.

"...Fucker." he bites back his frustration and crushes the cigarette against the ashtray on the table. Then, he unmutes the mic. "Why are you still talking to me? Hurry up and come get me."

"They're waiting outside. Get your act together. Fast."

"Yeah, yeah," he has the urge to tell him to quit his bitching but catches himself before it slips. Once the line is cut, he finally lets out the anger bubbling in his chest. "-fucking no-good yakuza…" 

He hated him.

A bunch of men in dark clothes drove him to an unfamiliar location. The building was in District E but it seemed like it needed repairs before it could function as a facility. For whatever reason, it was abandoned, which made it a convenient location for people like Toono to conduct business in.

"Got run over a couple of times before you got here?"

Toono's men push Taku into the room where Toono is seen waiting for him. After Toono gives them the go-ahead, they vanish to keep lookout at the entrance. Still somewhat wobbly on his feet from the alcohol, Taku sets his hands in his pockets and leans against the closed door for support. There was someone else in the room with Toono, but he was behind a white curtain. Whatever they needed him for, it was probably related to whoever rested in that hospital bed. Without taking his eyes off Taku, Toono walked over to stand at his side, grinning from ear to ear. It's as if seeing Taku dishevelled and bleeding gave him some twisted rush of glee.

"You look like shit, Murase." Taku doesn't bother looking at him. The sight of Toono made him want to throw up.

"Whatever…" Toono gets to the point after making sure Taku's clear-headed enough for conversation.

"I need your services."

"No shit… what is it this time?"

"I'll let Sakaki explain," He snaps his fingers as if to summon the man behind the curtain, and an unfamiliar figure steps forth. He waves all-too casually for someone that goes around killing people for sport. "-I'm only here because I'm supplying the doctor." A mocking grin falls over Taku's features, and he looks Toono square in the face.

"So, I'm your whore?" At this, Toono grabs a fistful of Taku's hair and pushes him hard against the door. The hit he takes to the back of his head makes everything in the room seem like it's spinning. It didn't matter if he couldn't see straight. Toono expected him to work his ass off both blind and brain-dead if it came to it.

"No, I treat whores with way more respect than I'd ever treat you." His hand slowly loses its ferocity, but he still keeps a firm grip on Taku as if to yank him by the leash when needed. "You're lucky your grades haven't dropped beyond what I find acceptable, or we'd be having this conversation at a fucking cemetery." He isn't interested in hearing Toono's bitching, so he glares at him.

"I told you I'd keep up my end of the deal."

"And I don't trust a punk like you worth a shit. That's why I had you chipped." Toono grins and grabs Taku's face to turn his head by the cheek. His eyes peer at the small scar visible on the back of his neck. "Did it hurt? We just recently started doing this after all. Can't have the guinea pig doctor in training die from an infection. How's the wound?"

"Tolerable…" Taku turns his head to quickly bite into Toono's palm with all the strength in his teeth. The man pulls away, and Taku straightens his back in defiance. "-and fuck you. Don't touch me." 

Sparks flash before his eyes as Toono's fist meets his cheek. The force of his swing makes him stumble, but the wall catches him so he doesn't hit the floor. Jokes on Toono, because the pain from his punches were subdued by the liquor still in his system. When he pulls himself together and turns back to Toono, Taku finds his left eye pressed against the barrel of a gun.

Toono was staring at him with no hint of emotion on his features. His fingers further tilt the gun against Taku's temple, traveling along his skin as if to let the image of cold steel sink into his flesh.

"You don't need both eyes to treat people… I suggest you stop tempting fate and get back to repaying the debt you owe. All I want to hear from you is 'yes, sir'," he punctuates his sentence with a laugh. "-but I'll take a 'yes, master' if you wanna be a real good pup."

"How about-" he hears the bark in Taku's tone and immediately pulls the safety lock. The click stops him mid-sentence, and Toono's eyes glimmer as if to say 'careful, it's loaded'. He stands firm as if he's claimed victory. His voice takes on a deep and sinister smoothness as if he's trying to seduce his prey. 

"Now, do what good dogs do…" he tilts the gun to Taku's lips and grins. "Beg."

At this very moment, anything is better than doing as Toono says. 

Even death. 

Knowing he still needs him to treat the patient behind the curtain gives Taku enough bravery to part his lips and bite the barrel between his teeth. Eyes staring directly at Toono, daring him to pull the trigger. When Toono's brows furrow in annoyance, he grins grimly as if he's turned the tables. The tension flips on a dime, and Toono is already back to being riled up. He pulls his hand away and the gun with it.

"You have a death wish or something, moron?"

"Can't have a dog that doesn't bite-gh!" Toono's palm reaches for Taku's neck to cut him off. He squeezes as tight as he can manage with one fist, and the voice splits from Taku's throat like splinters. 

"I can if I pull out all its teeth. Now, say that again… test your luck one more time, Murase…" Taku's eyes squeeze shut when Toono's other hand reaches to help suffocate him further, and the most Taku can muster in retort is a guttural sputter.

"Kh…!" The world begins to feel weightless, and his arms start to tingle. In some ways, pain had become an unusual pleasure- a reminder that he was still alive. 

Even if he'd rather not be.

"Hey, are you two lovebirds done fighting yet? Get your ass over here already, Toono. You too, doc!" Toono begrudgingly lets go, and Taku sharply pulls his hands up to his throat with quick, short breaths. His vision is still fuzzy, but Toono grabs him by the collar and throws him in Sakaki's direction like a lifeless body-bag. Taku manages to stay on his feet miraculously, and Sakaki holds out his hand to help him better steady his footing. Taku takes one look at him and chooses to ignore his gesture.

"Move." Toono pulls the curtain aside to take his rightful place behind Taku. Taku assumed it was to make sure he didn't bail, but also because he got some sick enjoyment out of seeing the scar left by the chip they implanted in his neck. When Sakaki steps aside to reveal the patient, he feels the world stop turning.

He'd all but forgotten he was going to treat a child.

The bed was soaked red as though the sheets were made of velvet. The front of the boy's chest had a large gash in it that was still oozing, followed by a number of smaller cuts along his arms, shoulder blades, and face. The taste of alcohol rushes to the back of his throat, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from throwing up. The sight before him, the heat pulsing through his veins, the anger rising like a growing storm in his chest- all of it made him see red.

Nothing but red.

"You sick fucks… what the hell am I looking at…!?" He holds back. What his impulses are telling him is to wreak havoc and kill both these fools to get rid of the problem. However, the delicate subject had set his heart in the calm of the swirling tornado threatening to rip everyone to pieces. The only thing containing his rage and keeping him sane was knowing this boy needed urgent treatment to make it out alive.

"He got into an accident. Fix him." 

"The hell he did! Do I look fucking stupid to you!?" He didn't move into action because of Toono's cold, calculated command. He moved on instinct to hurry and contain the bleeding. His eyes fix on the tools at hand and at the kit they provided. 

None of this would help stop the bleeding or null the pain. There was no tranquilizer and no drug to keep the poor child sedated during immediate surgery. Taku would need to stitch him up and clean the wounds while the kid was passed out, risking further complications and discomfort. He forces his hands to cooperate despite how much he is shaking. His carelessness ends up getting him cut by the needle more times than one before fully preparing the stitching. Half the tools were useless. If Toono planned on torturing him, this was the perfect setting. Saving this child was a race against the clock as it was, and time was running out.

"This one's awfully chatty, Toono. Couldn't get a different one?" Toono takes a deep breath and adjusts his glasses before turning to Sakaki.

"Just don't kill him, and you can use him with my blessing." Sakaki smirks, and his arms fold over his chest.

"Oh? You're rather charitable tonight. Is he a loose cannon or something? Not quite all there in the head?" Sakaki's eyes drift to Taku, who removes his coat to roll it up under the child's bleeding back. Sakaki's fingers motion to his temple and spin as if to ask Toono if Taku was crazy. Toono scoffs. 

"No. He's bland and predictable. He's not even fun to look at when you pull his leash. Shows up like an amateur thug with blood all over his face, wasted and high out of his mind. All he's good for is this. But even this is better than nothing."

Taku elevates the wound as best he can and grabs a nearby towel before running it through icy-cold water. A relieved sigh escapes his lips when the water in the facility seems to be working, and he moves the soaked towel over the kid's chest. With no ice or better tools, there was only so much he could do to slow his blood circulation and keep the bleeding under control. He moved without their go-ahead and rushed to get some semblance of control over the situation, but that didn't mean that he wasn't listening intently to what they were saying. 

"What's all this for? Just stitch him up." Taku bites back the anger in his throat yet again, focusing on keeping his heart in the center of the storm. 

It isn't worth it.

Fighting with them and wasting time on them isn't worth it right now.

"You sick fucks… what did you do to this poor kid…?"

"Can you fix him?" Sakaki stares at Taku with indifference, and the man's cold disposition to an injured child makes Taku's blood boil further. He bites down hard enough for the copper taste in his mouth to come back full swing.

It wasn't worth it.

It really wasn't.

But he couldn't help himself.

"...Fix him?" There's no light in his eyes anymore. His pitch has dropped to be just barely above a whisper. One more word out of Toono or Sakaki might trigger the wrong reaction. Taku was already stretched so thin. Any more and he'd snap like a rubber-band. "Fucking FIX…? Do you think he's an appliance…?" Toono shrugs, and Sakaki waves his hand to catch Taku's attention.

"Hey, you're here to make sure he doesn't die."

Taku's hand slowly reaches for a long, thin needle-like object behind his back. What was once a medical tool was now nothing more than scraps for him to use to save a life.

"He won't die…" Or take one. "-but I'd like to send YOU to hell myself!" Before Sakaki can react, he pulls the object close to his side and launches forward. His fist aims to distract Sakaki, so he launches a punch towards his face. As expected, the man grabs his hand to stop him, which is when Taku aims to stab him where it'll hurt the most. 

His eyes focus on Sakaki's chest. There. Let's see how much he enjoyed being cut in half from the chest down since he seemed so indifferent to the child's suffering. 

But his hesitation betrays his conviction. 

In the end, the fact he had to think about it before finally choosing to stab him was enough of an opening for Toono to knee him in the gut and force him to drop the tool. Another punch collides with his skull, and Taku stumbles back until he hits the edge of the bed.

"You said he wasn't a loose cannon." Sakaki rubs his fist, likely because he was the one who launched a punch the moment Toono stepped in.

"I take that back. He's a bit difficult, but you gotta keep noisy fucking dogs like him-" A loud, piercing sound cuts through the room, and Taku falls to his knees with a scream. "-on a tight leash." The smoke from the barrel of a gun fills the air, and the world suddenly seems as if it's pulsating around him. Toono pulls his gun back and stares down at the mess of red that's started to cover the floor.

"Fuck! You bastard-!" 

"Oh come on. You'll be fine. See? I was nice about it. I aimed for your leg, when I could've easily gone for your arm." Toono smirks and sets his gun back in its holster. He isn't the least bit regretful, but Taku hates the fact he let his weakness hinder him from focusing on what was important. Hurting these assholes wasn't going to make things better in the present.

"Shit..!"

"You realize we'll kill you if you don't cooperate, right?" Sakaki's expression doesn't change from his usual icy-cold demeanor. Both the boy and Taku were clearly expendable to them.

"I'd rather die than turn into someone like you…" But he wouldn't let the kid die. No matter what. He'd make sure at least one of them came out of this alive.

"Oh? Then, let me do the honors-" Sakaki reaches for something in his back-pocket, but Toono grabs his wrist and yanks it up against the wall.

"I said you can USE him with my blessing. I explicitly told you not to kill him. If this is going to pose a problem for you, then maybe I'll consider revoking my charitable offer to you and your clan." 

"Hey, I'm not like you. I wasn't reaching for a gun," Sakaki waves at Toono to release him, and he does so while keeping a close eye on his movements. Sure enough, Sakaki reaches into his back-pocket to pull out a tissue.

"If you'd rather die than turn into someone like me, then accepting my kindness must sting even worse than a bullet, huh?" Toono snorts and looks away.

"That's what you wanted to hand him? God, you're so childish…" Taku bites back the pain and glares up at Sakaki. Words couldn't describe what he was feeling right now.

"Well?" Sakaki shakes the tissue mockingly, and Taku finally finds the strength to pull himself to his feet… so he can slap the man's hand away.

"I can't focus with your ugly mug in my face… get out! I'm running out of time to turn the tides here." Sakaki eyes Taku up and down, then shrugs and seems satisfied with the result.

"I have no business here anyway. I'll arrange for someone to pick him up when you're done. Just call the number on his case-file," He points over his shoulder with his thumb. "-should be here in five to ten minutes tops. Toono, I'm getting out of here."

"Finally. It was getting cramped. Murase, get your shit together. If I hear he's died under your care, you can join him in the coffin. I gotta keep moving." He waves dismissively, but allows himself to smile before he shuts the door to the facility. "Oh, and you should treat that wound of yours. Can't pass out from blood-loss on the poor boy, now can you?"

The silence that falls over the area after the closing of a metal door is harrowing.

The chances of success were slim, and the risks of complications and infection were high. Still, he did the best he could with what he had at his disposal. By the time he stitched up the kid's chest, he had to roll him to his side to patch up the deep cuts along his back. There was no ice to keep the area cold, so he applied pressure with the towel as needed and tried to clean up whatever dirt possibly got caught in the wounds.

The worst part was the race against time. If the child woke-up mid surgery, it'd for sure be over for him. The fact he even managed to handle the pain without jolting awake was concerning.

Taku's fingers tremble with the needle, and the blood makes everything slippery. They didn't even provide a set of gloves to make the process more sanitary, and it pissed him off. When his hands got too shaky or his vision blurred, he forced himself to breathe before continuing with his task.

Little by little, the wounds were woven shut, and the bleeding was starting to slow. The longer Taku fiddled with the stitching in an attempt to preserve the poor kid's skin as best as possible, the dizzier he got from blood loss. He often forgot about his own wound until he was forced to put pressure on his foot in order to steady himself. When it seemed as if he couldn't do more to sow shut the wounds, he collapsed with his arms over the edge of the bed.

Deep breaths.

Breathing had become a chore, and keeping his eyes open even moreso. When his lashes finally unglue from each other, he gently turns the boy over on his back to the cleaner side of the bed. He didn't bother checking, but now that he wasn't as stressed, he put two fingers to the boy's throat to check for a pulse.

His body goes cold all too quickly.

"Kid… hey…" he gently taps the young child's cheek as if to wake him up. No response. He pushes his fingers against his throat again, but he isn't sure if the pulse he feels is of his own bleeding fingers or that of the poor child. Panic sets in again, and he begins to hyperventilate.

"Come on… please…" he shuts his eyes tight and slams his fist down on the bed. His hands are sticky. His eyes feel sticky. His leg, his chest, his back. All of him was sweaty and sticky with blood. He reaches for the boy again, but falls short. Instead, he grabs the bed with both arms to keep himself upright. His whole body was cold and pulsing with heat at the same time.

"Wake up… come on… kh…!" his own bleeding leg was pulling him down to the floor with dead weight, but he couldn't rest until he knew the operation was a success.

"Not yet… It's not over yet…" he slams his fist against the bed and pulls his body back up with all his remaining strength to cup the poor kid's cheek. 

"Wake up…! You have to wake up!" For a moment, he catches a flash of memories buried by drugs and alcohol.

'Wake up… come on, mom… you have to wake up…!'

He grabs the boy's small hand in his and squeezes him tight. He brings their joined palms up to his forehead as if to pray. The remnants of blood trickle between their fingers, and the gory sight forces Taku to close his eyes. In a world where not even God watched over them, his prayer would do absolutely nothing. 

So, he wasn't praying to God. 

He was praying to the only woman that knew just what to say to calm him down when he needed guidance. The only person that gave him purpose before fate took her away.

"Please… if anything good comes of my life… let it be this…" he recalled saying something similar when he treated his mother's ills with home-made remedies and pills that seemed to work wonders at the time, but ultimately resulted in failure. He shuts his eyes tighter, fingers shaking as they hold the young boy's hand. If he focuses, he can almost remember what she looks like. 

The memory is fleeting, and he can't make out more than a silhouette. 

The image of home was never coming back to him.

"I can't… save anyone… Can I?" He feels his shoulders grow heavy. The poor kid in his arms isn't responding, and it's getting harder to keep his body awake. "Good for nothing Murase… couldn't do a single good deed… not one… some doctor…" He doesn't even have the energy to laugh. His body is slipping. His mind is swirling with black and red fury. Yet, he was unnaturally calm. As if his fate was sealed.

"A… fitting end… I guess… It's only fair I lose my life if I can't save yours…" he doesn't know if he's talking to the unconscious boy or to the woman he vowed to protect. To the two people he let down.

"I'm sorry… for everything… In the end… I really… am…"

'Useless.' 

Something twitches in his hands, and his eyelashes flutter resistantly to take in the sight. A fierce pain spreads through his chest and up to his neck with his motion, but he doesn't care. He thinks he's imagined it all in his haze, until it happens again. There was movement. It wasn't a lot, but it was definitely a sign of life. He suddenly finds the strength to stand, and his free hand cups the boy's cheek to urge him to open his eyes. When he gets no response, he checks for a pulse again, but can't seem to tell whose it is with his fingers as bloody as they are. No matter how much he asks him to open his eyes, it doesn't seem like the boy can hear him. 

Still, he doesn't feel completely safe letting go of his hand.

So, he drags himself atop the edge of the blood-soaked bed, hand still in his, and positions himself to treat his own bullet-wound as best he can with only one arm at his disposal. He puts the tweezers in his mouth and pulls up his pants to assess the damage. The bullet didn't pierce through his flesh fully, so he'd have to dig it out himself.

"Fucking Toono…" His eyes are misty and his body is shaking, but if he doesn't get it out and stop the bleeding, he'll pass out before he finds out if the boy is okay. Removing the bullet without all the necessary tools was going to cause so many risks and complications, but he needed it out.

Technically speaking, leaving it in until he could have a real doctor look at it would be ideal. Tearing open the skin and digging it out would only cause additional bleeding and possibly nerve-damage if he wasn't careful.

"Damn it-!" But the idea of leaving a part of Toono inside him for longer than necessary was pissing him off. No one was going to tear out this bullet but him. It was a stubborn matter of principle, sepsis and infection be damned.

He takes a deep breath, rolls up his stained shirt and bites into the fabric as hard as he can. The disgusting taste of blood does little to deter him from spreading his wound open, and the shirt does a decent enough job muffling his screams. Without an x-ray to tell him where the bullet is, he has to go based on feeling alone by digging his fingers into his flesh. The closer it was to the bone, the harder it would be to pull out; and the harder it would be to remove without permanent damage.

He feels so cold that the small fingers still holding onto him seem warm by comparison. Taku looks over at the young boy and then down at his wound. Tearing it open will definitely cause more bleeding, more damage, and possibly kill him if he wasn't careful. Stitching the wound up and leaving the bullet inside would stop the bleeding, but it could still cause infection without proper cleaning. However, if he truly prioritized the boy's safety, he'd do what was most beneficial in the long-run.

For his sake.

"...Kh, fuck!" He flings the tweezers across the room so they don't tempt him to rip into his wound. They hit the wall and bounce off the floor with an echo. His chest feels tight and heavy when the shirt slowly unfurls over his abdomen. Something trickles down his ankle, and he can tell his stupid pettiness has done nothing but prolong his suffering. His fingers stick together when he reaches for the needle and the surgical string. He rips up the thin fabric of his shirt so he has something to tie to the edges of the wound to slow circulation. When using both teeth and hand to tie a tight knot over his injury, Taku pricks his skin and begins to sew the wound shut. It hurts, but it's nothing compared to how badly it'd hurt if he pulled the bullet out with only his hands and a pair of tweezers.

His vision fades in and out from time to time. What pulls him back is always the little twitch of the young boy's hand. It keeps him just off the cusp of death like a lifeline. When his wound is patched up a decent amount, he can finally throw the medkit down to the floor. The silence in the room becomes ever-more present with every breath he takes.

"It's… done. It's over…" His body feels heavy and weightless at the same time. He can't bring himself to sit straight, so he falls back onto the hospital-bed right next to the injured boy; their hands still entwined. All too suddenly, he feels like he could fall asleep in this disgusting pool of mixed blood.

"Fucking yakuza…" he breathes in and out to trick himself into believing it's soothing the ache in his leg. His eyes droop and a jolt of pain cuts through his leg all the way up to his neck. He was almost convinced he'd suffer some nerve damage at the end of all this. But if that was all the bad that came out of tonight… then that was good enough.

Before he has a chance to reward himself with sleep, he feels something other than a twitch against his fingers.

It feels as if the small hand is… holding him back.

Taku opens his eyes and turns his head to find the young boy wide awake. His glassy eyes were staring at him almost unblinkingly; as if to examine him. Despite his injuries and the state of their bodies, he didn't seem alarmed. Taku had a sneaking suspicion the kid was unnervingly used to the sight of blood.

"Uh, hi…?" Good going, Taku. The child was gazing at him with large, round eyes. It seemed as if he was waiting for something. Taku figured it was good to let go of his hand now that he was awake. Once he releases the small boy from his grip, it finally sinks in that the operation was successful. A weak smile spreads across his lips at the thought, and he lets out a long, shaky breath. It was fine now.

He was alive.

"You're alright… haha… haha…" he feels like crying. Just moments ago, he didn't know if the kid was going to make it or not, cursing Toono the entire way into hell. And now, it was as if all his boiling anger manifested in a relieved flood of tears. His eyes blur with his laughter, and he laughs even harder when he realizes just how deranged this must look to the poor kid next to him.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just so relieved… so, so relieved…" he catches the boy's expression between his soaked lashes, but he doesn't react at all. It's almost robotic in how he replies. Not even his voice seems phased. It was as if he simply woke up from a peaceful sleep.

"Are you a client…?" The laughter dissipates, and Taku's smile fades. All that's left of his tears is the stinging sensation at the corner of his eyes.

"...A what?" When his brain catches up with the question, he feels that familiar rage in the pit of his gut ignite again. He stops himself from cursing at Toono and tries to save face. "No... I'm not."

The child breathes a sigh of relief at his words. Taku wonders what type of child would ever use the word 'client' to refer to a doctor. In all fairness, he was also aware he did not look the part to play doctor. Though a bit at ease, the kid still seems on edge. He looks Taku over silently for a long time before asking the next question.

"Who are you…?" The way he speaks this time around is soft. So soft in fact that Taku has to look away. Shouldn't get his hopes up. He was just some guy Toono chose to keep around.

"No one important…" he mumbles, sleep catching his eyes.

"Noon… Poor-tank?" The child repeats what he believes to be a name, and Taku regretfully sits upright with a defeated sigh. Can't fall asleep now that the kid is awake. Someone had to keep him company in case trouble found its way into District E. Oh, yeah… he needed to report back, too.

"It means that I don't matter… don't worry about it. You'll hopefully never have to see me again…" The child keeps looking at him as if still waiting for a name. Taku considers the circumstances before settling on an answer. If he was a child that suffered abuse and woke up next to a stranger, would he want to know the stranger wasn't dangerous? He leans back against his palms and looks down at the boy still lying on his back.

"Call me Taku," everyone who called him 'Takuma' said it with scorn or disgust nowadays. And only the Yakuza called him by his surname. Taku was easy to remember, and it wasn't a name anyone else called him by. "-what's your name, kid?" He asks it in return, but gets a non-answer.

"...Anything."

"...What?"

"Anything and anyone…"

"Seriously?" His hand comes to clasp his forehead, and he groans. Maybe the kid had amnesia. "Let's try this again… Do you have a name?"

"It's anything and anyone." He sighs. He doesn't have the energy for this.

"Alright. Then, what would you like to be called?"

"...Huh?"

"I don't have anything to call you. So, what would you like to be called?"

"..." The longer he waited, the more convinced he was that the poor boy didn't understand the question. To save time, Taku pulled up the file next to the boy's bedside table to flip through his folder for his birth-certificate.

But there was nothing to be found.

Inside the boy's folder was a single scrap of paper with locations of scars and the names of individuals that put them there.

One of the names was one he recognized.

Asakura. 

Anger rises in the pit of his gut again, and Taku's instinct to grab Toono by the neck comes whirling back. What did Asakura have to do with this? He calls the number on the file to speak to someone that can explain what's going on, but no one picks up. Instead of persisting, he chooses to try again later down the line.

Right now, it was more important to make sure the kid was ok. He asks again, even if he thinks he knows the answer.

"I can call you by your name, or just a nickname. What do you want me to call you?"

"..." The poor boy's brows lower as if he's trying hard to understand what Taku is asking of him. He'd probably been coached to speak in an unnatural pattern by people like the Yakuza. No doubt, something horrible must've been done to him if he's this calm in the presence of a stranger. No shock about the room, the blood, or why they're alone. The very idea he had to let this kid back in Toono's care hurt to think about.

But what was there he could do about the situation?

Realistically, what could he possibly do to influence the Yakuza?

He's snapped out of his thoughts by the touch of a small hand. It grasps two of his fingers and holds onto him for dear life. For a moment, Taku sits there with nothing to fill the silence. He glances down at the kid's scarred hands and follows the markings up to his face. His eyes seem so bright for a child that just ended up taking a major surgery like it was nothing.

"Taku…?" He doesn't expect him to speak, so it takes him aback.

"Yeah…? What is it…?"

"You don't want to touch me?"

His insides shatter like an hourglass with no sand.

He immediately feels like yanking his hand away, but thinks better of it not to startle the poor child. What the fuck is Toono and that Sakaki fucker up to? 

Thoughts begin to race with his boiling disgust, but all his frustrations spin like a carousel in a vacant park. It spins and spins to no avail. Always moving, but never progressing. It only awaits its demise when the wheels and cogs finally give in to decay and bring the ride to a halt. If he was to contact the police, they'd only report back to the Yakuza. If he were to somehow put the boy in a foster home, they'd track him down in no time if he was chipped. If he somehow managed to smuggle him out to the mainland on the off-chance he wasn't chipped, what could he do there all alone?

Crushed with guilt, he shuts his eyes tight to black out the sight before him. Yet, the small warmth those two hands seek from him stabs his heart to the point it becomes near unbearable. He opens his eyes regretfully, and his vision has become somewhat misty. The kid is looking up at him as if he expects an answer. Taku's lips move to speak, but his voice quivers.

"Kid, that's not something you should ask an adult…"

"It isn't?" Absolutely not.

"No. Never ask anyone that ever again…"

"Hmmm… then," the touch of hands vanishes from his palm, and he watches the small boy reach for a broken instrument Taku accidentally left by his pillow. His eyes go wide when the child presses the small knife-like object against his wrist, and his hands rush to stop him. The second Taku grabs him is the second he regrets being so forceful. It was the first time he could see anything close to an emotion reflected in those bright, green eyes.

Fear.

He'd scared him.

"Shit! I'm sorry-! I didn't mean to startle you-" he curses to himself while he carefully confiscates the tool and tosses it onto the bed across from him- far away from the child's reach. "-what were you going to do with that? What were you thinking?" He scans Taku's face in silence for a few seconds before answering.

"Sometimes, people want to do that instead..."

"Do…what? Cut you?" The boy nods, and Taku balls his hand into a fist. Just picturing Sakaki's indifference to this child's suffering was making him want to punch his lights out.

"Those… bastards…"

"Taku?" he already regretted giving this poor kid his name. He didn't like the way he spoke to him. It made everything more real. The boy was so earnest and confused; so blindly trusting of anyone and anything. He hated knowing that people like Toono were using it to their advantage. He didn't need the full story. They were exploiting this poor child.

"Do you not like me?"

"Kid, I swear-" It wasn't his fault for being taught to parrot bullshit spouted by lunatics. Taku takes a deep breath, and slowly turns his wrists to cup the small child's hands in his. He thinks about what he's going to say. The details don't matter right now. He can ruminate on his poor choice of words later. Right now, his priority was to make the kid understand what kind of person he was. "Look… I'm a doctor. Do you know what a doctor is?" The small child shakes his head. No. He didn't know. Alright. Then, he'll explain it.

"Well, that's what I am. A doctor helps make sure people are healthy. I'm here to make sure you're healing properly. Nothing else. Got it?" The black-haired child nods in understanding.

Taku stares at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask him what he's been through. Part of him wishes to collect some sort of evidence, but the reasonable part of him knows nothing will come of it. All it will do is rekindle horrible memories for a kid that was still in pain. He gently releases those small hands from his grasp to reach for his head. He's about to pat him, but stops when he notices the kid close his eyes tight as if he's bracing himself for impact. When Taku's palm finally rests softly against his scalp, the boy's eyes open wide. He looks like he doesn't know what just happened.

"Are you feeling hurt anywhere?" It takes him a moment to shake his head 'no', but he's fortunately still communicative.

"If anything hurts, tell me," he gently rubs the boy's head, and he shuts his eyes again as if it hurts. Then, he slowly peeks up at Taku with one eye before opening both. "-I'll make all the pain go away. That's what I'm good at."

Making things go away.

Vanish without a trace.

He feels a deep cut within his chest open like the petals of a flower in bloom. It bleeds out the memory of youth and failed heroism. Of the times he wished he could have saved his mother but failed to find a cure for her ailment.

At the very least, he managed to stay alive long enough to save one life.

That alone made his miserable existence worth it.

"What is… this?" The boy motions with his hand. Taku doesn't realize he means the headpat he offered him just moments ago until he puts his hand over his head.

"This?" He does it again, and the kid's eyes close as if he's expecting to get hit. When that doesn't happen and all Taku does is ruffle his hair a bit, he opens his eyes; confusion written plainly on his features. "It means 'good job'. You did amazing."

"What did I do…?" He doesn't like that he has to explain it, but he smiles softly and gives him another ruffle. This time, he doesn't seem as adverse to it.

"You were a good patient. You're going to be just alright." Taku gently pulls his hand away. He observes how the kid follows his wrist with his eyes as if to see where it will go next. When he rests his palms on his thighs, the kid looks up at him as if expecting something to happen.

"Let me carry you over to a cleaner bed. This one is- gh!" He forgot all about the wound on his leg, so the burst of pain that cut through his body when his foot hit the floor was almost unbearable. He steadies himself on his feet and looks towards the mess of black, frizzy hair. The boy is looking at him with a blank expression. He didn't seem the least bit afraid anymore.

"Here, I'll help you move. Just hold on tight." When he reaches his arm behind his back and under his legs to carry him, he sees that same panicked look of fear in his eyes.

"No?" Taku hesitates. "Then, let me put down a fresh pair of sheets for you. I don't want you sleeping in this mess…" When his arms pull away, he watches the horrified look in the boy's eyes slowly vanish. Taku focuses on scanning the room for some cloth, but there's nothing much he can use besides pulling up an already existing mattress and putting it on the floor. He considers it, and turns back to look at the child for confirmation.

"If I pull down this bed, will you be able to sit upright and step down on your own?" No reply. Still, it was worth a shot. He walked over to the bed across from them and checked to see if the mattress was removable. When he found a way to tear it off the metal, he pulled it down to the floor next to the tainted bed and gave it a small pat.

"There. Do you need help getting down?" He reaches his hand out for him to take a hold of, but there's no response. Does he not know what to do? The boy is staring at him with uncertainty, and Taku smiles softly to put his heart at ease.

"Come on, you're a champ at handling pain, but it's still okay to ask for help sometimes." No response. He's starting to worry that his words are not coming through.

"Did it hurt…?"

"What? Oh," he looks down at his leg and pulls it back so he doesn't get blood on the clean mattress. "-yeah, but i'll take care of it later."

"Did it hurt…?" He repeats the question, and Taku only realizes he means something different when he catches him staring. His eyes are not focused on his injury, but on the mattress.

"You mean… Did it hurt to carry this back here?" The boy nods slowly, and Taku extends his hand towards him yet again.

"Well, if you want to make it up to me, how about joining me down on the floor?" He seems to understand now, and slowly curls up to press his hands against the bloodied sheets. Most of the blood has dried, but it's still painful to watch him move like a doll on strings. His pale skin makes him look ghostly. The boy's hand slips past the edge, and Taku rushes to catch him in his arms so he doesn't fall head-first into the ceramic tiles. 

"Whoa, careful. Are you okay? I told you to ask for help if you need it."

"..." 

"Feeling dizzy? No? Talk to me." 

"...Warm." That's all he hears before the child pulls his knees close to his chest and leans into Taku's arms. His hands ball into fists as his eyes close lazily. Despite Taku being coated in blood, he seemed to prefer being held rather than left on a bed all alone.

"Hey, kid… I'm not…" I'm not a pillow. That's what he should say. Instead, he sighs and cradles the child in his arms as his back hits the thin mattress. "Whatever… it all worked out. It all…" 

The world falls silent.

Everything fades to black.

Despite the pain, the dust in the air, and the hard surface of the floor, he could confidently say one thing.

It wasn't cold anymore.

The feeling of pain comes back before his vision, and he feels his head fall forward as if pulled down by gravity. There's a warm body in his arms- or that's what he assumes. It slowly comes back to him that he managed to successfully take care of the small boy's wounds before his injuries killed him. Though relieved, he struggles to open his eyes. Every limb is glued in place as if coated with rust and grime.

He's about to give in to sleep again when a soft pair of hands reach for his cheeks.

Unblemished, slender, feminine hands.

His eyes are forced open to identify the unknown presence in the room, and his heart almost gives in.

Before him was a young woman with long, dark hair and piercing green eyes. Her lips were coated red, and her cheeks shone faintly with make-up. Had she not touched him, he would have assumed she was a ghost. There was not a single part of her that wasn't cared for and ornate. Her outfit was spotless, her hair was curly and partly tied in a bun, and she bore an eerily calm smile.

"Hello…" she tilts her head, hands taking Taku's face in hers as if he was a possession to be admired. "-are you the kind doctor that's taken care of my little Haruto?"

"Ha…ruto?" Her eyes remain fixed on Taku when she drags her finger down his neck to guide his sight to the boy in his arms.

"I'm here to pick up my dear Haruto." It takes a minute for the blood to start pumping to his brain after all his energy was preserved to keep his heart beating. The dizziness comes back when the woman's hands cradle his face, and he starts seeing double.

"Are you his new primary care doctor?" There was something off about this lady, but he couldn't place what. There was blood all over the floor, his face, her kid, broken instruments and tools scattered about in frustration. He got shot and was still bleeding. Yet, this woman had a perfectly poised and calm expression as if the scene didn't phase her at all.

And a horrifyingly sweet smile on her lips.

"I'm…"

"It's okay. There's no need to be nervous. What's your name?" He'd already made this mistake once before. He wasn't going to do it again. He closes his eyes for a moment to keep his vision from blurring.

"M...Murase." he gives her his surname. It's likely what Toono called him, too. If he didn't just call him 'that bastard' in a dismissive way. The woman's voice is smooth like velvet, and her fingertips see no issue tracing lines over his blood-stained cheeks.

"Murase-san… that's a lovely name." He opens his eyes to see if she's still there, or if she's just an illusion. Sure enough, she's still there. Eyes pointed directly at him.

"Thanks... I didn't choose it." The woman giggles warmly. Almost a bit too brightly considering the circumstances.

"Then, your mother must have truly loved you lots if she named you after the ocean." The words that come out of her mouth don't align with what he expects her to say, and he blinks to clear his vision. Some part of him still believes this to be a hallucination of some kind. Why would a stranger bring up his deceased mother?

"...What?"

"Currents… torrents… It's a lovely name that reminds your child to always live life to the fullest." He wasn't sure what was going on, but it was impossible to look away from her without feeling her eyes still staring at him. It was uncanny how normal the conversation seemed. 

"That is why I chose Haruto for my dear Haruto. It means sunlight. No matter where he is, I wish for him to chase his own personal happiness. His sunlight."

No. This conversation was far from normal.

He needed it to stop.

Taku pushes himself up from the floor with the boy still securely protected in his shaky arms. The sudden shift makes his body feel unusually unsteady, and he leans back against the wall to stay upright.

"H-Hey, I don't know how to tell you this, but…" He doesn't know how to break it to the woman that the Yakuza are likely abusing her son. Was she not curious about the wounds? Something all too suddenly clicks in place. Be it because he just asked himself the question in silence or because his brain was slowly catching up with his mouth.

But why was she not asking questions?

The slender woman stands up and steps closer, almost as if walking on air. The closer she gets, the more it prompts Taku to step back until he realizes there's nowhere left to go. She has him cornered. 

"Tell me? Tell me what, Murase-san?" There's an uncomfortable thickness in the air, and he looks away. He swears he can feel the dark-haired woman's complexion twist into a sinister smile. He doesn't know why it feels so out of place. No, it was because her child was hurt. Who would be able to smile at a time like this?

"About…" he can't bring himself to look at her, and it only further fuels his suspicion that she knows more than she lets on. That she holds some sort of power over him by the way she's staring. Taku can't fully say it isn't working. He's worried he's going to hurt her feelings, but she deserves to know.

"About?"

"It's-" 

"It's okay. You can tell me at your own pace." Something about this was making him incredibly uneasy. The scent of extravagant perfume oozed through her pores and practically trickled down his skin at her lightest touch. It was almost as nauseating as it was hypnotizing.

"I…"

"Murase-san, thank you so much for taking care of my little Haruto… I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here. You saved him… thank you."

"..." It doesn't sound sincere. He considers the idea that he's still half-drunk and had a couple of screws punched loose by a number of people, the bullet included.

But hearing her thank him for saving the boy's life didn't give him any sort of sense of accomplishment.

It only further confirmed that he had no business being a doctor.

"May I?" She holds her arms out wide. "I've missed him so, so much…"

Handing a child over to their mother should be rewarding. Instead, he feels something twist in his gut when he lets her pull the child into her arms.

It felt like putting a gazelle in a cage with a lion.

Her eyes glimmer in the moonlight as she rests her cheek against the small child's head. Her eyes keep looking at Taku as if they were searching for something.

"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" Her breath smells somewhat sweet, and the overpowering perfume mixed with the stench of blood makes his insides ache.

"I..." It gets hard to breathe.

"Why don't you let me help you clean up? You look like you could use a mother's touch," 

He can't take it anymore.

Air.

He needed air.

"Sorry, I-!" He grabs her by the shoulder and pushes his body past her to run towards the exit. 

The world spins as his leg throbs painfully, but he doesn't stop running. He rushes down the first flight of stairs he sees, and almost hits a wall before he finds himself out in District E. The open sky isn't enough. Breaking free from that cramped room isn't enough to get rid of the icky feeling. He needs to look at something else. When he closes his eyes to subdue the dizziness, he sees those green, icy eyes peer past his features and straight into his soul. 

Despite it, he keeps running until he hits the pier. Everything's so blurry. The only reason he is able to tell he has reached the harbor is because the sun is just about to peek over the horizon. After what feels like forever, the seabreeze finally kicks his body back to reality with its salty air.

He grabs a nearby tree and hunches over to hurl all his insides into the bushes. Gastric acid and blood coats the greenery in a putrid stench, and it only makes Taku throw up further. The feeling of eyes glaring at the back of his neck makes him grab his stomach tight. The blood and alcohol was starting to smell a lot like the woman's overbearing fragrance.

He only realizes she's made him sick to his stomach after he's done throwing up. When the nausea settles and he is able to keep his eyes open for longer than a minute without growing dizzy, he wipes his mouth and reaches into his back pocket.

Smoke.

That would take the nasty taste of blood and the horrid scent of luxury perfume off his tongue. He lights one up and slowly makes his way to the rail overlooking the ocean. When his hands touch cold metal, he finally feels like he's outside.

"Fucking… hell…" That's all he manages to get out before he takes a deep breath and blows smoke into the air. His head feels like it's still sloshing with liquid, but he's slightly more grounded now that he's thrown some of the poison out of his system. He puts the cigarette to his lips again and takes a drag; Filling himself with a different kind of poison to counteract the nausea. 

"I'm never fucking drinking again…" he cocks his head back and blows the smoke into the air to watch it float towards the ocean. "-and I'm quitting this nasty habit too… tomorrow." He grins as he lies to himself and gazes out at sea.

"Torrent, huh…" Not that his mother named him after anything specific. Murase wasn't even a family name, it was just a name he saw in an old movie. He only adopted it as a surname so people would stop calling him by his mother's last name. After her death, any reminder of her was like a stab through the heart. It also didn't help that he seemingly inherited her soft heart and hazel eyes. Toono's words, not his own. He takes another inhale and blows smoke into the air. The grayish tint it paints over the sunrise makes it easier to look at. 

"Takuma…" If he had to pick a new name, it wouldn't have anything to do with truth. He clicks his tongue and pulls the cigarette between his fingers. "The irony isn't lost on me, woman… I know what the hell I am. I don't need you to tell me…" When he gazes at the cigarette, he notices a tinge of red on it. Probably from an open wound. But right now, for some reason, it reminded him of the eerie woman's dark, red lipstick. He shoves it between his lips again so he doesn't have to look at it. Whatever that was, it was over.

"..." That's what he truly wished he could say. He really didn't want to get involved.

Yet…

"Shit… Whatever, it's not your problem." He scratches the back of his head and catches stiff, sticky strands of hair brush against his nails. None of his business, he thinks to himself. Yet, here he stood, still covered in the poor kid's blood.

The chilly morning air helps keep him alert, and the sunrise at the harbor was enough to calm the rumbling storm in his heart. Still, it never truly dissipated. It was just like redirecting wind; If he lost his grip on the current, it would break free and begin to hurt anything and anyone it touched. He stares down at his palm and scans the cuts and scratches left by all the times he failed threading a needle. It almost looked like a galaxy of stars in little red bursts. A warm feeling is rekindled in his fingertips when a weak gust carries the ash from his cigarette to his skin, and the image of that small boy's fingers holding onto his comes back to him.

He wishes he can let it go instead of brood over it, but he is still wondering just what he can do, if anything, to influence the tide of fate.

"Stop playing hero, dumbass…" he mumbles to himself and stares back at the ocean.

For a moment, it's as if he can hear it whisper to him.

No, it's definitely a voice. He turns towards the sound, and sees a lone figure standing by the exit to the park. All he makes out is the green specks that glimmer over her dark silhouette. 

"What a coincidence to find you here… Murase-san." He blinks stupidly as if she'll vanish if he does it enough times. At sunrise, he hardly recognized her. He straightens his back and leans against the railing to turn away from the sun. The realization that he left a woman in an abandoned area with no explanation or after-care instructions made him feel guilty. She walks closer, and once she enters the light, he can see she's still carrying the injured boy in her arms. She must have arrived prepared with fresh clothes to put him in. Either that, or Sakaki left a bag there for him to get the boy dressed before being handed over to his mother. He couldn't say. He was just relieved the kid was still breathing. Once she was close enough, he bowed apologetically.

"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have left you there on your own. I just…"

"It's okay," he turns his head up, and she's suddenly much, much closer to his face than she should be for a married woman. Was she married? He just assumed because she had a child, but maybe that wasn't the case. Still, it was much too close for comfort.

"You should quit smoking. It's a nasty habit… ruins the complexion, you know." Her fingers softly invade his private space to trace lines over his neck. The sensation of polished nails sends goosebumps over his skin. When her palm reaches his jaw, he swallows nervously as if she's aiming to cut him at the jugular. Her eyes never look elsewhere. It's like she's completely engrossed in the feel of his skin and the little ticks it brings out in his posture. His face feels hot when she traces her hand over his lips… and slowly curls her fingers over his cigarette to bring it down to her own two lips.

"Hey-!" He didn't realize what she was doing until it was already done. Her giggle sends another shiver down his spine. She looks so fragile and soft, but behind her façade was a calculated trickster. This was not a woman playing coy. This was a predator looking for its next meal.

"Oh, I'm already taken. There's nothing that can sully my good looks," she keeps the cigarette between her lips as she reaches for his face again. He doesn't pull away. Every nerve in his body is united when they tell him to run. Despite the signals his brain is sending to his legs, his limbs refuse to move. "-but you have such a pretty face. It would be a shame if something ruined it."

That had to be a thinly veiled threat woven between her words. Speak of what happened to Haruto, and I will send the full force of the Yakuza upon you. When Taku's eyes break from hers to stare at the small boy in her arms, he almost wishes she'd play her hand if it meant leaving that kid alone. Faint traces of smudged blood and dirt still coat his skin, but he was sound asleep. Almost like nothing happened.

"Do you like Haruto?" She notices his interest shift immediately. The woman was observant, that much was very easy to tell just at first glance.

"Is he holding up okay…?" A pang of guilt sits at the pit of his gut, and he can't bring himself to look back at the kid when she mentions his name.

"You're so sweet…" he shuts his eyes tight when he feels her hand on his cheek again. Something about this sickly sweet feeling was utterly slippery and suffocating at the same time. Had the roles been reversed, it would've classified as sexual harassment, but no cop in Shinkomi would take him seriously if he suggested he was bothered that an attractive woman threw herself over him.

"Are you interested in Haruto?" She rephrases the question, and Taku feels his insides turn. Something about this conversation is only making his discomfort escalate. 

"I'm worried for his health. He lost a lot of blood. If he gets worse… let me know." It suddenly feels like the atmosphere has dropped by ten degrees. 

"Why should I?" 

All he can do is stare.

Why should I let you know?

"...What?" The question takes him by surprise. Who asks something like this?

"Why should I let you know if he gets worse? Are you only interested in Haruto if he's hurt?"

He couldn't figure out what her angle was. Her face showed no sign of shame or humor. She wasn't influenced by emotion. Her actions made no sense. It's as if she was tailoring her words specifically to get a reaction out of him. In that case, what was she looking for? What was she trying to dig up?

"I'm studying to become a doctor. If I mess up and hurt someone… I'd like to mend it whenever possible."

"Hmmm… so, you're saying you'll take care of my dear Haruto for the sake of becoming a better doctor?"

"Uh, I… guess that's one way to put it? Really, I just…" there's a lump in his throat he can't swallow. His words come out dry. He has no clue why he's opening up about this with her of all people, but he feels compelled to tell someone. "-I don't want any more blood on my hands…"

"A doctor that doesn't like having blood on his hands?" She giggles, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes. It's performative. "How interesting. That's a little funny, isn't it? You should only do things you enjoy in life. Anything less is pointless."

"I enjoy helping people…"

"I see… is that truly what you desire? Or is there something else you want that you can't have?"

"..." He can't take it much longer. She's too invasive. He can't look at her directly or he might just burn up. There was indeed something he wanted, once upon a time. But reality was cruel and uncaring. No matter how much he wanted it, nothing could bring his mother back to life. And he was beginning to dislike this conversation more and more by the minute. That same voice in his head was yelling at him ad nauseum. A voice he could only imagine was his common sense.

Run.

Run!

"What if I could grant it for you?"

"What?"

"What if I could give you what you desire? Something to live for," her fingers comb through the small child's hair. "-something to protect." She doesn't take her eyes off him, but her actions are telling. That sickening feeling returns to the back of his throat, and he finally understands what's felt so off about this mother-figure since the start.

She wasn't looking at her kid at all.

Her eyes bore into people she could speak to. She used the boy's name as if she was using a prop. The revelation of these things made it all-the-more difficult to parse what she wanted from him.

"...What are you talking about?"

"I'd like you to be Haruto's primary care doctor." He had a hard time buying that this was her end goal. There was something else to it.

"That's… sudden. I'm still in med school. What makes you think I'll be a good doctor for him? I'm sure your husband can find you a much more skilled-"

"Skill can not compete with desire. I have no need for men who only know how to think and don't know how to feel."

"..."

"What does your heart tell you…Taku-san?"

A cold chill runs down his spine.

How did she know that name?

It didn't look like her child had woken up since they parted ways. She shouldn't know his first name, let alone a version of it he only used once. Was there perhaps a chance that she overheard them? No, that'd be insane. That would imply she simply lingered in the background while her child suffered. Her long fingers gently trace his face. It's like she's drawing scars into his skin- marking him as her property. 

"I think Haruto would love to have such a caring doctor by his side. I could also rest at ease if I know it's you that's treating my beautiful little Haruto."

"I… I'm sorry, but I… I'm not-"

"It's okay." She speaks in a hushed whisper. Her voice has a hypnotic chime to it. It pacifies him. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll be amazing. I'm not sure what I'll do if you can't see him again… I can barely trust anyone with my lovely little Haruto. You understand, right? When life is so precious, yet so fleeting, all you want to do is," she finally turns her head to lean her forehead against her child's. Her eyes, however, remain fixed on Taku, and her smile locks him at the throat like a ball and chain. "-hold it in the palm of your hand."

"..." I'm not stupid- is what he thinks to himself. I know when I'm being manipulated- is another thought he fights not to say out loud. But what guts him and rips his tongue out is seeing the sleeping boy in her arms stir awake with watery eyes.

He doesn't deserve this. 

That's the only thought running through Taku's head. This poor boy doesn't deserve this. He isn't sure what 'this' is, but whatever it is, there has to be something better down the line. He can't let him go on like this. Those scars were not the end. They were very clearly carved into his skin as a deliberate form of torture. This was only the beginning. He knew that.

And yet, he didn't have the slightest clue how to stop it.

"Taku…?" The boy sleepily rubs his eyes. For the first time, Taku sees a hint of a smile on his face. One that's unfortunately short lived the moment his mother places a kiss atop his head. He suddenly looks wide awake, not unlike the time Taku first reached to pat his head and he jerked away.

"Aw, did you want to say hi to Taku-san, too?" The child suddenly grows eerily quiet. It doesn't feel like shyness. Taku scans his features, his scars, and his trembling hands. The boy that was so peacefully asleep only moments ago was now avoiding him with fear in his eyes. It's as though he believed anything he looked at would turn to smoke.

"Do you want to stay with Taku-san for a while?" 

All too suddenly, his mood seems to shift, and Taku has no room to react in time.

"Wait, what? When did I say-?" He feels the woman's hand slide down his chest as if to twist an invisible knife into his heart. The small, hopeful voice that follows her motion stops the spinning carousel. The lights go out, and the wind sweeps its remains into a pile of nothing but rubble.

The fantasy of wonder no longer exists.

There's no amusement, no park, no ride.

All that remains is the chime of what used to be an attraction.

"I can stay with Taku…?" The boy looks at his mother with wide eyes- almost as if he doesn't believe her.

Taku doesn't believe her either.

"Of course you can, honey. After all, Taku's your primary care doctor. Right, Taku-san? Wouldn't it be safer to make sure he's okay? You did say he lost a lot of blood…"

"..." Some light seems to return to the young boy's face, and Taku just stands there, staring.

"Go on. It's okay. You can hold him." Taku doesn't know if she's talking to her son or to him until she tries to drop him. What takes Taku by surprise and makes him catch the boy with open arms is not the shameless way she pawned him off on a complete stranger, but the willingness in the small boy's arms that reached to be whisked away.

Taku adjusts his hold on the young child, and he looks a lot calmer all of a sudden in someone else's arms. He's staring at his mother as if there's some punchline to this sick joke. As if it will all vanish.

Taku doesn't blame him.

"My, my, you both look so cute together. It must be fate." Taku forgets she's even standing beside them for a moment. All he can think about is how long this kid has to suffer before it all comes to an end.

"There, there…" she reaches her hand out towards her son, and he flinches. Taku almost pulls him back out of some innate instinct. The kid seemed like he was constantly afraid of being hit. Instead of hurting him, the mother's hand gently cradles his face with a smile that appears hauntingly insincere. "-isn't this nice? Taku-san is such a kind person, isn't he? I bet you'll feel much, much better if you rest with him for a while." The woman pulls away to look up at him, and all the color drains from Taku's face with the twist of her nails against his skin. The silky voice with which she whispers every word makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand on edge.

"Will you please protect Haruto for me, Taku-san?"

Her words shouldn't graze his skin like a snake coiling around his neck. It shouldn't make him hold his breath until her nails finally leave his body. 

"Haruto is my greatest treasure… I never let anyone hold my greatest treasure. This should tell you how special you are to us, Taku-san." She places two fingers against the cigarette still between her lips, inhales deep, and blows a slow gust of smoke into the air.

"Take as long as you need to come to terms with your desire. Here…" she tucks a small card into his coat pocket and gives it a small pat. Did she have that prepared? Or was he just not paying attention when she pulled it up? "-stop by when you're ready. Ask for 'Maya'. She's the one that will grant your wish."

He feels like he shouldn't mislead her.

"...I have nothing to wish for. So, please-" he can't finish. His voice doesn't let him.

He can't tell her to take her son back. That he couldn't stay with him. That he had other things to do. What would letting him go entail? Why was he so happy to leave her arms? Why was he so scared of getting touched? He couldn't release him knowing he was still hurting from the surgery. No, he couldn't release him because much like the boy himself, Taku could tell there was something dark looming past the fragile-looking feminine figure. Something much, much worse than spending a night with a stranger.

"She already knows what it is you wish for," The woman giggles affectionately, and reaches for his face again. He almost backs away now that he has the child in his arms. He doesn't want her to invade more of his space. "-all you have to do is open the door. Euphoria is waiting on the other side."

"Eu…phoria?"

"Think about it, Taku-san." She shows no hesitation when she leans up to leave a searing kiss against his blood-stained cheeks.

Run.

Run!

"I'll be waiting."

He isn't sure what to say, or even if he should stop her from walking off. What was he supposed to do with a kid? He'd never taken care of one before, nor did he know when she was supposed to pick him up. If he gave it more thought, he's sure he can just ask Toono about it and get an address, but it was still frightening to see a mother drop off her child with a complete stranger. Regardless of his purpose, doctor or not, no one should be comfortable enough to turn heel and just walk away without looking back. He isn't looking in her direction, but he can hear the clacking of heels slowly fade with time, leaving only him and her son in the rising sunlight.

"Great… just… great…" he mumbles to himself. If he was just a bit more self-centred and callous, maybe he would've been able to turn her down. He looks at the boy in his arms and slowly lets him down on the ground.

"Can you stand…?" It's the first thing he wants to make sure of. The kid moves his feet and taps them against the asphalt. No mobility issues. Taku crouches down next to him to make sure of a couple more things before deeming him 'safe' enough to walk.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He raises his palm and makes a 'one'. The child mimics him without issue, holding up only one finger. "Try to follow it with your eyes." He slowly moves his finger from left to right to test the kid's eyesight. Everything seemed to check out.

"How's your head? Does it hurt?" The boy shakes his head. That's a no.

"Your back? How about your chest?" The boy shakes his head again. No? 

That couldn't be right.

"You sure?" He nods. Taku isn't sure he believes him. No one would be okay after something like that. Not to mention he had a limited amount of tools and needed to work fast. Part of why Taku wanted to take him in was to carry him to a proper facility so he can re-do the stitching correctly and make sure there was no risk of infection. For now, though, this was all he could do. 

"If you're hurt, it's okay to tell me." The boy shakes his head 'no' again. It just wasn't possible for him to be this desensitized to pain. He must have been coached to lie if asked about it. Taku makes one more attempt before giving it a test.

"Nothing bad will happen if you tell the truth. Tell me… does it hurt?" There's a small pause this time, and the boy looks down at the ground.

"It's okay…" Those words bring back the image of the dark-haired woman in red. It's okay. That's what she would say.

"...If it ever starts to hurt a lot, tell me right away. Hey," he snaps his fingers to get the kid to look up again, and he does. "-promise." The boy looks at his hand curiously before returning his gaze with a slow nod. That's as good of an answer as he was going to get. Taku sighs and brings himself up to his feet again.

"Alright. Let's go." He can't believe he's doing this. He begins to move along the harbor, but soon notices the absence of footsteps behind him. When he looks back, he finds the boy standing in place. He quirks a brow and walks back the distance to see what's wrong. Maybe he really was in pain after all. Carrying him back with a messed up leg would prove difficult, but he'd do it if there was no other choice.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt? Can't walk?" The boy looks up at him, unblinking. 

"I'm allowed to walk?"

"...Yes? Wait, are you usually not allowed to walk?"

"I sit and lay down when told. No moving." Boiling anger rises again like an untamed storm, and he struggles to get a grasp on it.

"What the f- ugh!" He clicks his tongue. This is going to be harder than he first imagined it'd be. "Fuck it." Nevermind. He's just going to stop trying. He doubts the mother has an issue with his bad language with the way she treats him. He gets back on topic. 

"Sorry, ignore that. So, you're not allowed to walk?" The boy shakes his head. No, he wasn't allowed to walk for some reason. That explained why he didn't move his legs when he tried to climb down from the hospital bed. He was probably conditioned to stay in one place in order to make him easier to control.

"Yeah, well…" another pang of anger strikes his prefrontal lobe, and he feels an uncontrollable urge to hurt something, be it an inanimate object or himself. He forces the turmoil in his heart to calm. "-you can do whatever you want now. If you want to walk, you can walk."

"So… you want me to walk?" This was going to be a lot harder than he first imagined it would be.

"Kid, I'm not telling you what I want… I'm telling you to do whatever you want."

"...What does that mean?" It just slips without thinking.

"Are you for real…?" Dumbass. Don't ask a kid something like this.

"I think so." The boy starts patting his arms and cheeks. "Can you see me?" The sight is so innocent yet sad that it clenches some of that burning rage Taku holds for the Yakuza. He sighs and pulls out a cigarette and shoves it between his lips. Before he lights it, he crouches down and pulls the boy's hands away from his cheeks.

"Yeah. I can see you," leaning his weight on his healthy knee, he brings the lighter closer to his lips. However, when he clicks it to life and lights the cigarette, the boy seems to have a question.

"Do you want to use that?" Taku raises a brow curiously, and the boy points at… the lighter. He swiftly puts it back in his pocket and inhales to blow out a puff of smoke. Almost as if to demonstrate what it's for.

"It's for cigarettes. See?" He holds the stick in hand with a turn of his wrist.

"Oh…" Sudden curiosity takes a hold of him, and he asks a question he's sure he'll come to regret.

"...What did you think I was going to do with it?"

"Put it here," the boy brings his arm up and points towards his wrist. An area littered with faded cuts and burns. "-and hold it here." Sure enough. He regrets asking.

"...Hey." Taku looks down at him, and the boy quickly pulls his head up to look back at Taku.

"I want you to know something before I take you to my place. Are you listening? Turn your listening-ears all the way up for this." Taku motions towards his ear and moves his fingers as if pulling open a jar. The small child mimics his motion with both hands and nods. The action takes him aback by how unexpected it is.

When he was a child, his mother always used to tell him to turn his ears up so he'd hear what she had to say. She was unfortunately sickly, so she had to whisper every word whenever he asked a question. Hence, she'd motion with her hand for him to listen close. It was a habit he picked up when he was little, but by the time he became an adult he'd all but forgotten about it.

Until now. 

It was like staring into a mirror. 

"Alright, are you listening closely?" The boy nods, and Taku pulls out his cigarette to crush it into the ground. He had to destroy something before he lost his mind.

"First, I'm going to lay down some rules. Second, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions. I want you to answer them all honestly. Alright. Still following?" The boy nods eagerly, and Taku pulls up his hand to count the rules on his fingers.

"Rule one: I am not your client. Don't treat me like a client." The kid watches him raise a finger and pulls up his own hand as if to mimic his action. Then, he nods.

"Rule two: We don't hurt ourselves or others under my roof. As long as you're with me, no cutting, no burning, and absolutely no 'clients', got it?" It was not as if the boy was about to take in someone from the outside. That wasn't the issue. What Taku wanted to accomplish by setting these rules was to create a divide between normal and abnormal in the boy's mind. Right now, all this poor kid knew was how to be used, and he even had to ask for permission to walk. As fucked up as that was, he couldn't accomplish anything by just telling him what was and what wasn't normal. He'd have to show it to him in order for it to have a lasting effect.

"Rule three: If someone tries to hurt you or touch you, you tell me right away. If you're afraid at any point, you tell me."

"Why?" That was the only rule he reacted to thus far with a question.

"Because they don't have the right to hurt or touch you."

"...They don't?" Taku suddenly feels validated in not handing him back to his mother. Whatever they put this kid through… they were going to pay.

"No. No one can touch you if you don't want them to. If anyone touches you, you should tell them to stop. If they keep going, you take off running and tell me right away. No exceptions." The boy looks down at his hands, counts to three, and nods again.

"Rule four," he was about to end with 'and I'm not your primary doctor' along with 'this is just temporary' and finally, 'I'm not planning to stick around for long' but he couldn't bring himself to say it. As icy as he tries to make his glare, he doesn't have it in him to throw reality in this kid's face. He takes a deep breath and gently rests his hand atop the small child's head to ruffle his black hair. He winces again when he gets touched, but relaxes when he realizes it doesn't hurt. 

Taku sighs. 

He can't do it.

"...Rule four is to let me know when there's something you want." The kid turns his head up, and Taku just barely makes out his eyes between messy bangs.

"What does that mean?"

"If you're hungry, you tell me. If you're sick, you tell me. Rule four is to speak your mind. If you feel like crying, you let me know and I'll let you cry in peace."

"..."

"Are you not allowed to cry…?" He turns his eyes away and shakes his head softly. Taku takes another deep breath.

"Then… rule five is to let yourself feel. If you want to cry, scream, or anything in-between, you should do so."

"You won't get mad?" As upset as Taku is with the yakuza, he smiles softly. He does so for the child's sake. To show him that he isn't mad at him, but at the world around him. He needs to see what real emotion looks like. Something beyond anger and pain.

"Nah. I'll join you. There's a lot to cry about in this world. I think it's better if we cry it out together than do it alone." His smile turns a lot warmer when those sparkly eyes look up at him with wonder. It's like he's never been told that adults cry, too.

"Oh yeah. Question time," he reaches for his pocket, but catches himself before he grabs the cigarettes. Not in front of the kid, he tells himself. "-what do you want me to call you?"

"Anything and anyone."

"Hey, remember rule 1? What was rule 1, kid?"

"To not treat you like a client…?"

"Exactly." Maybe he didn't know the difference. Perhaps the only people this kid saw were 'clients'. If that was true, he couldn't blame him. 

"Normally, you give someone your name." Taku knew the boy's name, but he wanted to see if the boy himself was aware that it was his name.

"Mmm…" evidently, he wasn't even sure if he had one.

"Well, I have good news for you. Since you can't remember your name, you get to pick your own." His eyes look at Taku with such dead seriousness that it's almost funny.

"Can I be 'Taku'?" He laughs.

"No. Come on, not even I like my name. Pick something cooler."

"'Taku 2'." God, this kid was so unintentionally funny.

"I said, no." The boy puffs his cheeks a little as if he's wracking his brain trying to come up with something different. Taku watches him to see if he will come up with something different, but all he gets is dead air.

"Do you have any names you like?"

"..." 

"None?"

"I only know 'Taku' because you told me…"

"I see…" So, he didn't even get to know his client's names? At this point, Taku almost expected the story to just get worse and worse. "-are there things you like?" Stupid question, Taku. He doesn't even know how to walk without permission. What would make him realize his likes and dislikes? It was a question that came to him on auto-pilot. He wasn't used to talking to kids, nevertheless kids like this.

"Well, you don't have to think of one right away-"

"Towa."

"...Oh. That was quick. Why'd you choose that?"

"Because I can be anything to anyone. Doesn't matter who." This had to be tied to his clients. He didn't know just what kind of fucked up shit they got this kid into, but it was evident they just called him by different names and confused the hell out of him.

In that sense, he couldn't just accept the name at face value. He couldn't reinforce his trauma.

"...You know, for a kid, your imagination sucks." He lets out another breath and looks towards the open sea. He doesn't want to erase the only individuality he's shown, but he can't allow the poor kid to call himself 'anything'. As he stares at the sea, he gets an idea. It's Taku's attempt to explain meaning and intent in hopes of bringing out more of that individuality that's been left to suffocate.

"...You know, the name Towa has more than just one meaning." If he couldn't change the name, then he could change its meaning.

"It does?" He knew the kid chose the name because he didn't care who called him what. He just wanted to be something to someone. But that wasn't going to fly. He wasn't just a prop to be used by anyone. Not the Yakuza, and not even his own mother.

"Look," Taku points towards the ocean. "-can you see the end of the ocean?"

"Yeah." He looks back at the poor kid with a smile.

"You sure?"

"Mmm… yeah?"

"Well, what you see isn't actually the end of the ocean. It's only the end of what you yourself can personally see of the ocean."

"Oh…" Yeah, this information was going to slide in one ear and out the other. Despite it, Taku wanted to make an effort for him to understand something outside his norm. Something new to think about. To explore. Something that had nothing to do with what he experienced up until now. The more information he could stuff into his head, the likelier it was for him to grow up with some normalcy. 

"The ocean makes up over 70% of the earth. What we see here is not even a fraction of the end," he stretches his hand out towards the rising sun. Its pink and purple glow makes the ocean appear orange. "-water never sits still. It's always moving. As waves," he turns his wrist to hold his palm into the air. "-humidity," Then, he places it against the small boy's chest. "-our pulse. It's all because water doesn't know how to stop moving forward. It evolves, changes, and expands depending on what sort of environment it's in. In that sense, it's just like you and me."

"..." The boy looks down at the hand resting over his chest in silence. It seems like he's taking it all in.

"Depending on how it's written, the name Towa can also mean 'infinite'." That catches the boy's attention, and he looks up from his chest.

"It can?"

"Yeah. I think you're a bit like the ocean… No, a lot like the ocean." Despite being carried by the merciless current, he somehow learned how to ride it. In spite of how the moon carries his fate on the waves, he steels himself for turbulence and continues on without complaint. The surface may ripple, but the depths are filled with stillness and unexplored wonder. No one knows what truly hides in the deepest parts of the ocean, just like how no one truly knows how someone's life will turn out until it's in full bloom.

The carousel may have come to an end, but one thing that will persist no matter how much the world changes is the ever-expanding view of the sea. That's why he was just like the open sea. A life brimming with infinite possibilities. 

But he couldn't say that to a kid. That would sound lame.

"Well, maybe I just want you to have a cool name like 'infinity'! Can't just call you 'anything'."

"Why not?" See all the above.

"Because you're not just 'anything' or 'anyone'. You're a whole person. Ah, well," Taku raises his hand above Towa's head. "-a person in training. Can't have you thinking you're not worth your own name." Towa looks up briefly before putting his hands over Taku's to pull his palm down on his head. That was the first time he saw the kid actually reach out to touch someone. Up until now, he's only asked if others wanted to grab him. It came as a surprise.

"Can you do it again?"

"Do what? Oh. You mean," Taku ruffles his hair, and Towa quickly closes his eyes to brace for impact. Despite his reaction, he doesn't seem like he dislikes it. It was most likely just a learned behavior. When he notices it isn't malicious, he opens his eyes again. "-that?"

"It doesn't hurt." Taku lets out a 'come on' and ruffles his hair again.

"Good. It shouldn't hurt."

"Weird…" he smiles when the boy looks away. That was a step forward.

"Get used to it."

"Taku is weird…"

"Is that how you're going to treat me? Maybe I should make another rule. Rule 6: You're not allowed to be mean to Taku."

"Okay." He laughs and ruffles Towa's hair again. He expected the kid to at least put up a bit of a fight, but he seems to be fine with it. Taku didn't ask because he thought the kid was just trying to familiarize himself with his face and his demeanor, but he was staring an awful long time in his direction. Before Taku gets the chance to ask, he hears him whisper to himself.

"Taku's color is… orange."

"Orange?" Towa points out towards the sea, and Taku follows his guidance.

"That color. Is Taku's color."

"The sunrise does make everything a bit orange, yeah." He wasn't sure he caught what he meant, but he went with it. Orange? Maybe he was just pointing out the obvious. That was still a step-up from the silence he's lived in up until now.

"Anyway. That's it for my interrogation. Let's go. I bet you're tired." He stretches his legs to get up. When he stands, he pats his knees to bring life back into his joints. It tickles as he regains circulation and swiftly turns on his heel to walk back home. He only stops when he notices there's a set of footsteps missing behind him.

"...Towa?" He looks back, but Towa isn't moving from the spot. Taku raises four fingers, and something seems to click. He's hesitant at first. He takes one small step, but quickly breaks into a sprint. When he's close enough, he jumps up dramatically to grab Taku's hand.

"I wanna hold hands." Well, he was a fast learner. Rule 4 did say 'speak your mind' and 'ask and I'll see what I can do'. If he was this good a listener, maybe undoing years of trauma was actually possible.

"What? Because it's late?"

"No. Because Taku's hands don't hurt."

"..." 

"Can I?"

"...Yeah." he looks down at the boy that's now clinging to his hand like it's his only lifeline. It takes him back an hour; where those same hands lay cold against his forehead. All that saved him in that moment of prayer was a small twitch, and now, that same hand was reaching for his protection. A bitter feeling of regret sets in his heart, but he ignores it. He says what he's about to say anyways. 

"...Rule six. You don't have to ask for permission to hold hands. You can just hold my hand whenever you want."

"I thought rule six was not to be mean to Taku?" He rolls his eyes. The fact the kid remembered the joke itself was proof he was really listening to his every word.

"Alright, then make that rule seven. Just reach for my hand whenever you feel like it. No need to ask."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He wanted him to know that a painless world could exist.

That there was no need to be afraid of something as innocent as a hand to hold.

"No one should use their hands as weapons," he squeezes his palm to reassure him of this. "-our hands were meant to hold, not hurt."

"What if they hurt?"

"If people use them to hurt you, then they're bad people."

"Bad people?"

"People you shouldn't hold your hand out to." Towa looks down at his free palm as if he didn't realize he had a choice to abstain from accepting touch. No, he probably didn't have a choice up until now.

"Is that okay?"

"To not hold hands with bad people?" He nods, and Taku gives his hand another squeeze.

"If you give them a hand, they'll take an arm. If you feel like they're hurting you, you should pull your hand away. Alright?" He takes a look at his hand again, then at Taku's.

"Taku's not a bad person, right?" He didn't know how to answer that honestly. 

"You can decide that on your own…" he expects the kid to know no better than to let go of his hand, but he's still following along.

"Taku's hands don't hurt. So, Taku's not a bad person," his round eyes look up at Taku as if they've found their answer. "-I can keep holding Taku's hand." He almost forgot his whole hand-lecture the moment it left his lips. He wasn't expecting the kid to actually logic his way into holding hands with him. Still, this made another conscious choice the boy made of his own free will. It was another step in the right direction.

"How long can I hold Taku's hand?" He asks as if he doesn't want to let go, so Taku reassures him.

"However long you want. If you let go, you can always reach out again."

"Really?" He chuckles.

"Why don't you try it right now?" Towa stops in his tracks and looks at Taku's palm. It takes him a moment to make any move, but when Taku feels him release his fingers one by one, he slowly relaxes his palm to let go. After letting go, Towa stretches his fingers, looks up at Taku, and hesitantly tries to slip his fingers back into his palm. Taku meets him halfway, and holds his palm again. The surprise on Towa's face is telling. He wasn't actually expecting it to work. He turns his head up, and Taku reassures him yet again.

"See? All you need to do is reach out."

"What if no one holds back?" Already thinking of the worst case scenario? He couldn't let that fly. Not after he just looked so happy.

"Don't be that way. There will always be someone there to take your hand."

"Can it be you?"

"..." he feels the wind get knocked out of him. The question is phrased so innocently, but the fact this boy must never have had a single person to rely on makes his eyes burn. Not one person? Really? Not even his mother? Towa starts looking worried, so he asks the same question again.

"Can it?" Taku bites the inside of his cheek not to say something stupid. This wasn't his kid. He had no right to make promises. Yet, he couldn't control the mist building up in his eyes.

He couldn't take away the only thing that's made him feel safe.

"...Yeah," he feels his lashes grow sticky again. It's getting hard to see. "-yeah. It can."

"Promise?" 

The whirling storm dissipates for a moment, and all that's left as proof of its existence is a cloud of rain.

It's a promise.