Archive of Our Own

The same four blue walls.

With two posters on one wall, an unmade bed in the middle, and a dresser against the back wall.

A narrow closet, and a desk in the very corner of the room. The desk was messy. Pencils, pens, papers, some type of a food wrapper.

The floor, however, was spotless (save for a few pieces of dirty laundry that littered the floor.).

It was something he was able to control. The cleanliness of his room.

Half-burnt out glow in the dark stars spotted his ceiling, and when Chifuyu turned off all his lights, they twinkled and glowed dimly in the otherwise pitch black room. To many they were probably childish, but Chifuyu had put them up when he was just that- a kid.

He remembered when he had first invited Baji-san over. When he’d cleaned his room from corner to corner, ceiling to floor, as though the other boy were an inspector for some high end company. He even dusted! 

Not that it really mattered in the end, Baji would have hung out with Chifuyu in a random back alley if Fuyu had so much as asked. 

But, Chifuyu hadn’t remembered to take those silly plastic stars down.

“I like your stars.” Was what Baji had said, and it made the blonde’s blood run cold. God. God, no, no, no! He had completely forgotten they were even up there! They were a stupid birthday gift when he was, what, seven?! He’d grown so used to them being up there, he didn’t even think of them when he invited the other boy over.

“Oh, haha, no, god– Don’t look at those.” Chifuyu coughed in a rather pitiful attempt to mask his panic. He reached for the broom he’d conveniently left in the corner of his room, during his massive cleaning efforts, and he began poking and prodding at the little decorative stars, desperately trying to get them down to save face.

“What? What are you doing-?” Baji had rolled his eyes at the blonde scrambling to take down the glow in the dark stars, and he placed his hand on top of Chifuyu’s, the one that was holding tightly to that broom. “They’re nice, don’t take them down.” 

And, he supposed, that was enough. Baji-san’s approval was one of Chifuyu’s favorite things in the world. So, as much as it embarrassed him in the moment, he decidedly kept those silly stars ever since. 

So when he laid in his bed at night, he’d stare at the stars and how they glowed, how they stared right back at him. 

The shirt on the floor was a gift from Baji-san. It was a dumb one, but he loved it more than life. It was a plain black tee, with the words ‘Proud cat dad’ on it. Chifuyu had always meant to buy a matching one for Baji. Peke-J was as much his cat as she was Baji’s.

On his desk was a journal, where most of those scraps of paper were sourced from, filled with little doodles and his feelings. 

Mostly drawings of his cat, but if you flipped the pages, dug deeper, it was mainly a sketchbook of Baji-san. Chifuyu was by no means an artist, but he poured his heart and soul into each doodle, so he deserved the praise regardless. 

Some books were tucked neatly on a shelf on his desk, a humble collection of his favorite manga. Most were gifts from his mom, but some were bought with his allowance and Christmas money.

He had two anime figures on his desk as well. The two figures were from Chifuyu’s all-time favorite anime; the anime he’d convinced (see: forced) Baji-san to watch.  

The food wrapper was just a small snack. It was all he could really manage to stomach these days.

His appetite had diminished to a worrisome level, but he himself hardly noticed.

Chifuyu liked the way his room looked. Clean, but with a lived-in look. It was something he could control. If he wanted, he could move his pillows and blankets to the space beneath his desk and sleep there. If he wished, he could take out every piece of clothing in his drawers and closet and leave them strewn all over his floor. 

If he willed it, he could rearrange and change every inch of his room until it was completely unrecognizable. He liked that feeling of control (even if he didn’t exercise that power. He was much too tired these days to pull off such stunts, but the thought was there and that was enough.). 

He felt completely helpless when Baji was ripped away from him. Watching the blood drip down Baji’s chin, watching his eyes go as dim as a dying lamp, watching him smile faintly; a smile of satisfaction, kinda. He felt so painfully useless when his best friend died like that in his arms, left with nothing to do but watch on as Baji-san’s life faded from his grasp.

The shame Chifuyu felt when he leaned in and kissed the dying boy in his arms, in front of everyone. Being open like that to their gang, let alone anyone for that matter, was not their intention. Not for a while, at least. 

They didn’t label it. Didn’t need to. What they had was good. They shared soft, chaste kisses, as young people often do; they held hands as they walked home. Slept in each other’s arms, tended to each others’ wounds and bruises - they were lovers in every sense of the word, they loved each other as much as they could.  

And Chifuyu recalled Baji-san’s lips growing cold. The usual warmth they shared in their connected lips; the feeling of the other boy cluelessly kissing him, and him cluelessly kissing back. When their kisses broke apart due to them smiling too much, or the laughter cutting in.

He remembered how lonely, desperate, and broken that kiss felt. With his hands coiling in Baji’s hair, entangling themselves in the soft, dark strands till they came undone from his ponytail. 

If this were one of Chifuyu’s shows, maybe that kiss would have done something more. Would have saved Baji-san’s life, or something. Would have kept him breathing. Maybe Baji could have gone home.

But it wasn’t one of his shows. It was his reality, as unfortunate, dreary, and as depressing as it was.

And Keisuke Baji died in his arms. 

He remembered crying- no, screaming, until his throat was all scratched and sore. He remembered sobbing to the point he wondered if he'd go blind, like that expression his mother used to use whenever he would cry as a child. 

Remembered how hard he had clung to Baji’s body, not wanting those paramedics to rip him away from his hold. As if, somehow, Keisuke staying in his arms would fix any of this.

Chifuyu remembered how fucking empty his arms felt ever since that day. He’d tried to fill the space with numerous items. A plush, a pillow, his blankets, anything he could find to try and resemble the weight of his lover’s body in his arms. 

It all felt so goddamn light in comparison. The weight, he guessed, was more metaphorical. 

The weight of feeling so worthless. So weak. Takemitchi, when he visited on some occasions, used to say it wasn’t Chifuyu’s fault; he said it almost like a mantra.

Everyone in Toman visited at least once or twice. But Chifuyu saw Mikey and Takemitchy the most. 

Takemitchy used to say it so much, Chifuyu would swear he could hear it in his dreams.

“It’s not your fault.” “You did everything you could.” “Baji wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

But…How could he not ? How could he not blame himself? 

Keisuke Baji was his best friend, his Captain, the person he was closest to in the world and yet…He couldn’t do a damn thing to help him.

How could it not be Chifuyu’s fault?