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Smoky was dead, and Murayama wanted to be dead too. Of course he hasn't told anyone that. Why would he? Nobody needs to know that about him. Not even Murayama wanted to know that about him. In fact, he was trying to think about anything else but was failing miserably. Murayama couldn't help but wonder what Smoky looked like when he died. None of the Rude Boys told Murayama how he died. Neither did Cobra. Nobody would tell him anything, and that made Murayama sick. Why couldn't he know? What happened?
"Murayama!" Furuya's voice broke Murayama out of his thoughts. The man coughed and looked up at his friend. He was quick to not let his mask slip as he stuck a finger in his ear and squinted up.
"Hah? What're ya yelling for?"
"You were staring into your food. Seki's gonna have a fit if he finds out you let the food he cooked go cold."
"Right..." Murayama looked down at the plate of food Seki had given him. Murayama was excited to eat this just six minutes ago. Now he feels like eating any more of it will make him hurl.
"You okay dude? You're looking pale again."
Murayama didn't waste any time to respond, nodding so Furuya wouldn't think anything was wrong. "Yeah yeah I'm fine, I'm just not feeling well."
"You've been sick a lot recently. You sure the Kuryu fight didn't do any lasting damage? We can take you to the doctor-" Murayama cut his friend off by shaking his head. He didn't want to explain the issue, he didn't know if he even knew how to put it into words.
Murayama is stupid, but not that stupid. He knows something is wrong with him. Something has been wrong for a while, actually. Even before Smokey died. Before Kuryu was an everyone issue. Hell, even before he got his shit rocked by Cobra, Murayama realized something was wrong with him. He realized when nothing in his life was more important than fighting, that perhaps he had gone crazy; a mental break might have occurred in him at one point in time. It was more than a high, it was a reason to live. Being the strongest meant the best fights, and winning the best fights meant he'd always be the strongest and people would always follow him. And that was all that mattered to him.
Until the aforementioned ass-handing that Cobra gave him. Which in hindsight was a really close fight, but a loss is a loss. Murayama wanted to win that day, he needed to win. At least he thought he did in order to keep what he had- the friends that he believed followed him because he was strong. It took him a while to realize his friends were more than that. He didn't need to fight to keep them, and even though that's a good thing, that little piece of knowledge would stay in the back of his mind. Because if Murayama isn't fighting, then who is he?
He thought that after Smoky died, he'd want to fight even more. He'd get angry, want to punch every member of Kuryu a hundred times and then some. And don't get him wrong, Murayama definitely wanted that, but it wasn't anger that filled his heart. It was the unbelievable unrelenting feeling of dread. If that happened to Smoky - someone who could still fight like hell even when sick - what could happen to his Oya students? What would happen to his friends? And what friend is Murayama if he can't protect them?
"Murayama?" Furuya called to him again. Murayama looked up at his friend, and what he saw wasn't real. He saw scars, blood. Furuya looked dead. Murayama jerked backwards, almost falling out his chair and knocking his food from the table. Maybe Smoky looked even worse than that. Furuya's concern was evident. "Woah woah, you okay dude?"
"I gotta go." Murayama tried to take a breath and ignore the way he felt like he was about to throw up. He didn't miss how Furuya looked worried to hell and back, but he didn't have time to address it right now. What would he even say? "I imagined you dead because I already lost one friend and I can't handle losing a second?" His friend didn't follow him, and there was a small part of Murayama that wished he did.
**
Murayama walked to the train station and watched people coming and going. This must be some people coming to S.W.O.R.D for work, others might have taken vacation and are coming home. Murayama wanted to put them back on the trains and send them all back to wherever they had gone, because suddenly all of these people made him angry. None of them, not a single one, knows what he went through for their city. Everyone believes the police took down Kuryu, everyone believes that it was those incompetent and corrupt people that helped this poor city. And he knows none of them did it for recognition, but these people take what they did for granted. They don't know that someone made the ultimate sacrifice, and now Murayama can't look in the direction of Nameless City without wanting to break down. He looked up at the signs and saw the dozens upon dozens of places he could go. He wondered if his boys at Oya had dreams of buying a ticket and leaving this world behind, if they wanted to dive headfirst into a brighter future.
He wondered what Smoky's future would've been. Maybe he would have opened up Nameless City more because of the alliance, maybe he could've gotten treatment. Maybe one day, he would have gotten to smile without carrying a burden like the one he did. But Smoky is gone, and Murayama is still here.
Why is Murayama still here?
The next train would begin pulling in within the next ten minutes. Murayama stared out at the hazard tape telling him not to cross. He looked at it, then shuffled closer to it. The minutes ticked down, there weren't that many people waiting for this train, and Murayama felt alone in this one moment. Nobody would notice until it was too late anyway, if they'd notice at all. He could hear the train before he could see it, and Murayama stepped past the hazard tape on the platform. He expected his heart to start beating, for his body to scream no at him, yet there was nothing. He couldn't even protect his friend, why did he think his body would try to protect him now?
Before Murayama could do anything else, though, there was a grip on his forearm. "I don't think this is your stop." Murayama didn't need to look over in order to recognize the voice. Suddenly, Murayama didn't have it in him to do it anymore.
"Guess not." The train pulled in, and Murayama watched people get off, scattering in various directions to wherever they needed to go. "You have a train to catch, Cobra-Chan?"
"I did, but I'm not really interested anymore. This station has a good yakitori place connected to it." It was less of a suggestion, and Murayama would never turn down free food. He followed Cobra to the restaurant. Murayama had half a mind to make a joke as they sat down. Yet nothing could come out, not even a snarky remark. Murayama only spoke to order a drink. Cobra didn't speak either, so this was a very quiet lunch. He was giving Murayama the opportunity to speak if he wanted. Did Murayama have anything he wanted to say? Could any words come out?
"Did you cry for him?" Cobra stopped for half a second, glancing up at Murayama. He didn't respond, so Murayama answered first. "I did."
"I did, too. Not nearly as much as you have."
Murayama scoffed and rolled his eyes. "And how do you know that?"
"Because you look like me."
Murayama freezes, confusion settling into his features. "What?"
"You look like how I did when Tatsuya-San died. There's that emptiness in your eyes. No matter how you try to hide it, it's still there. I don't remember that being there before." Murayama scoffed, shoving a skewer into his mouth. Cobra watched him. "Still trying to deny that you don't feel the same inside?"
"Don't need you worrying about it. Don't you have Sannoh to take care of?"
"I can worry about my friends too."
Don't tell him that. Murayama can't afford anymore friends. He can't risk losing all of them. Murayama tried to say something else. "Since when are we-"
"Don't bullshit me." Cobra looked at him, his gaze piercing. "You might be trying to deflect but if you say something stupid like we aren't friends, I'll seriously beat the shit out of you." Murayama had half a mind to say it anyway, just so he could get punched and feel something, but he didn't. Instead he just fell completely silent. His hand shook as he tried to eat again.
What if next time it's not a battle that they can put an end to? What if next time it's someone like Cobra? He almost suffocated from that cement before, there's no telling what a bigger threat could do to him. What if no one can save him in time? What if Murayama loses everyone and everything?
"Murayama."
His head shot up, and he spoke before Cobra could say anything else. "Does it stick with you?" Cobra was quiet, letting Murayama continue and elaborate. "When you were forced to eat... eat cement, does the memory of that stick with you?" Murayama watched as Cobra thought about what to say, and he started to wish that he hadn't asked anything.
"I'm bad at eating on my own." Cobra said quietly. "It got so bad in the beginning that I lost six kilograms in a week and I had to go to the hospital when I fainted and almost got hit by a car."
"Six kilograms?! Nobody noticed?"
"Everyone noticed. But like you guys over at Oya, we aren't really good at feelings. I didn't even know how to explain myself to them, and those are my closest friends. I have a bad habit of trying to do everything myself, and I end up hurting a lot of people in the end. But being afraid to confide in those that care about you leads to bad outcomes like mine. Or trying to catch a train that you have no business catching right now."
That means Murayama's friends have probably already noticed, too, and didn't know what to do for him. Maybe that's why Seki cooked for them out of the blue, because that's all he can do. Suddenly, Murayama had a thought. "...You weren't here for a train, were you?" Cobra's response (or lack thereof) gave Murayama his answer. "Was it Furuya?"
"Mhm."
"How did he know...?"
"Because he's your friend, dumbass. They know more than you think." Cobra gave a small smile, eating the last of the yakitori and paying the bill. "You should go back to them and tell them what's going on."
"How?" Murayama looked away. "If I fall, if I look like I'm cracking, what if they think I'm unreliable?"
Cobra sighed and looked at Murayama for a few moments. Then he shook his head. "Murayama, do you think Seki and Furuya only care about you because you're the strongest? Even broader than that, do you think Oya cares about you just because you're the strongest? I'm sure that there are ones who only see you that way but the real pillars of that school know you. Deep down, I know that you know why everyone follows you, and it's not just strength. If it was just strength," Cobra chuckled, "you'd have given up after our fight, and nobody would have ever given you another thought."
That fight. That was definitely a wake-up call for Murayama, his first loss in a long time. He's had a few wake-up calls since then, and maybe this moment here in this restaurant was another one.
"So," Cobra raised an eyebrow, "What are you gonna do?" Murayama looked at him. He didn't respond verbally, but both of them understood one another.
**
Murayama told Furuya and Seki casually. He didn't want to make it a spectacle or make them too worried. But there's no perfectly casual way to explain that you're mildly suicidal and won't ever get over your friend's death and also keep having occasional hallucinations. It was heavy and made the air in the room go stale.
And then Murayama heard sniffles. It was Seki trying to hold back tears, and Furuya's eyes were red. Murayama looked between the two of them. "You're crying?"
"We didn't know it was this bad!" Seki said. "If we did..."
"We would've held you hostage until you told us what was wrong." Furuya finished for their friend. "I'm glad Cobra found you at the station."
"How did you know that I was even there?"
"I've seen you walk there before. I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to other than us." Furuya rubbed at his nose and looked up at the ceiling. "And Cobra is better at this than we are. You know, leader to leader."
"Some leader I am." Murayama muttered.
And then Seki hugged Murayama tightly. It was a bone-crushing hug, but it was perfect for Murayama. "You're the best leader, Murayama!" Seki said, practically bawling his eyes out. "Whatever you need from us man, we'll be there!"
"You will?"
"Of course!" He almost screamed. "Anything for you!"
Murayama looked over at Furuya, who was significantly less touchy-feely than Seki, nodded. "Anytime, anything. You'd fight for us, so we'll protect you. If that means listening to you tell us about things we don't understand or know how to fix, then we'll do that, too." His friends. More than that really, his best friends. The way they're so willing to just be there for him isn't something Murayama wasn't prepared to experience.
He gets it now. He understands why Smoky held the Rude Boys so close. Why Hyuga has Sakyo and Ukyo, why Cobra would do anything for Noboru and Yamato, why Rocky would beat someone to a pulp for saying Kizzy's outfit looked bad. They were his closest companions, the ones that he could confide in. And Murayama had that as well, but he only just now realized it. "I'm real fucked up though, guys." Murayama said, his voice cracking. "I'm not all here right now. I don't know if I'll ever be old me again."
"You think that'll scare us away?!" Seki let him go and looked at his younger friend. He draped an arm over Furuya. "You're stuck with us forever!"
"Yep." Furuya agreed. "Why else would we still be here?"
Murayama was confused. "Huh? You're both still here... because of me?"
"I thought it was obvious," Furuya said, "why else would we stay here when Seki's dad has that construction company and I already have a part-time job? We're holding onto Oya because we're holding onto you."
And like any responsible, steadfast, and strong leader, Murayama bawled like a little baby. Seki and Furuya grabbed him again and hugged him tight. "Don't cry- wait actually, cry all you want." Furuya patted him on the back. "You deserve it, been carrying a lot, huh? Come on, we can hole up at my place." Murayama couldn't answer between sobs as Seki put him on his back. Murayama left his head on Seki's back as they walked through the halls and out the door. He didn't need those that relied on him seeing him like this. He didn't want anyone else to worry about him or start runours; those who needed to know this information already do. And strangely, while sniffling into Seki's shirt, Murayama felt better.
**
"Hey man." Murayama sighed as he sat down. He looked at the grave in front of him. There were new flowers, Lala must have placed them recently. "God, I've had a crazy week, let me rant for a bit, okay?"
Murayama wishes that he did this more when Smoky was alive. They didn't see one another a lot, and he should've made the trip to Nameless City more often. That's something that he might always regret.
"So first things first, I finally graduated! I cried a little but don't tell anybody..."
But regret isn't something that Murayama can continue to shoulder. He needs to move on as best he can and continue on. What is done is done, and there's nothing he or anyone else can do about it. But as he caught Smoky up on all that's happened in his life, that regret began to fade away.
Smoky was dead, and Murayama wanted to live as best he could, there was a lot he needed to do for the both of them.