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Of all the people Matakara needed to apologize to, Zabu was the one he felt deserved it the most. He had hurt his friend in ways unlike the others. Intimate ways. Matakara couldn't bring himself to offer such a private apology in the presence of others, recognizing the need for discretion. Every time he looked at Zabu’s battered face or watched the boy try to take notes with one arm in a sling. Every wince that jolted his cracked ribs, pushed the knife in Matakara’s heart just a little further. He owed that boy a lot. He owed him a better explanation of what had happened between them in his room nearly a week ago. However, when he attempted to approach Zabu, he realized the boy was actively avoiding being alone with him.
Admittedly, Matakara had been busy for the first few days after his fight with Arajin, when he finally got his senses literally knocked back into him. Zabu was acting completely normal in group situations, so he never suspected anything was wrong. Well, no, that’s not entirely true. He knew he had wronged Zabu, but the other boy was acting normal around him, so he didn’t suspect that he was harboring any lingering resentment. That was until he started noticing that if a group of them thinned out so that it would leave just the two of them alone, Zabu would find an excuse to duck out.
The realization of that hurt Matakara. He really needed to clear the air between them. To show Zabu that he wasn’t that monster he encountered on the street anymore. If the other boy was avoiding him then he couldn’t dance around the issue anymore and he would just tell Zabu that he wanted to speak with him alone after school to avoid the continuing Hide and Seek game. He was fully confident that morning when he walked into class, but when he got there, Komao was sitting at his desk doodling in his notebook, alone.
“Hey,” he said to the blonde as he took his seat next to him. “Where is Zabu today?’
Komao stopped drawing and looked up at him with a smile. “He had to go back to the hospital for a follow up appointment on his injuries.”
“Oh,” was all Matakara could manage. The injuries he had given him.
“Yeah, it was a real shame he didn’t get a good look at those guys who jumped him. I would have liked to kick their asses.” Komao shadow boxed the air to demonstrate what he would do to Zabu’s attackers. “Jumping a guy for no reason…buncha pussies.”
Matakara’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t know. Zabu didn’t tell Komao that he was the one who beat him within an inch of his life and then just left him lying in the middle of the street. His stomach seized suddenly, and he wasn’t confident that he was going to be able to keep its contents down. He stood up and ran out of the room with a hasty “excuse me” to Komao. Once in the bathroom, he leaned heavily on the cold porcelain sink and closed his eyes. The room felt like it was spinning. Why would Zabu cover for him? After a few moments he was able to get his breathing under control and stave off the wave of nausea. Ichiya appeared at his side.
“It is my fault you feel this way,” he said softly. “It was my anger that goaded you into hurting that boy. I am sorry, Matakara.”
The brunette shook his head at the majin. “No, in the end I’m still the one who did it. I didn’t have to listen to you.” He leaned down and splashed cold water on his face. It helped settle his nerves a bit. He pulled a few paper towels out from the dispenser and wiped them across his face. “I think deep down I wanted it to happen. Maybe just not exactly like that.”
“Then you truly have feelings for this boy? You acted upon them that day?” Ichiya seemed surprised.
Matakara wadded up the used towels and threw them into the nearby bin. “I…yeah, I guess.”
Even after their rough…encounter, Zabu still tried to talk sense into him and stop him from fighting Kenichirou. He spoke to him as a friend, someone who truly cared about him and what did he get for his efforts? The ever-loving shit beat out of him. Matakara remembered his feelings from that night. Zabu’s words had only enraged him further. He was such a fool- no, Arajin was right, he was a monster. He didn’t deserve Zabu’s friendship, but at the very least he had to apologize.
‘Then you must speak with him,” Ichiya insisted. “Believe me when I say that not communicating only leads to misunderstanding and regret. I spent three hundred years angry over a situation I should have been more upfront about, and it had led to this. I used you and through you, people you love have been hurt.”
“Don’t beat yourself over this too much, Ichiya.” He said with a sad smile. “I basically handed myself over to you on a silver platter. You couldn’t have asked for a better mark. I was so lost in my own despair.”
Ichiya placed his hand on Matakara’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I will help you right this wrong any way I can.”
Matakara nodded in acknowledgement. He still wasn’t accustomed to the fact that even though no one else could hear or see Ichiya, he was still able to physically interact with him. When he asked Arajin about it, the boy just shrugged and told him that he’d get used to it eventually. Though it seemed his relationship with Ichiya wasn’t dependent on the bullet from the gun at the Honki shrine any more. In his rage against Arajin, he had absorbed the majin somehow. After the fight, the bullet in his chest was gone, but left behind was a small scar with a tiny silver bullet shard and the ability to still see and speak to the blue-haired Honki person. “Thank you, Ichiya. I really should get back to class now.”
The majin disappeared back into the bullet fragment and he exited the restroom. The teacher gave him a disapproving look when he walked back in on the middle of the lesson, but at least Komao was happy to see him.
After school he stopped by the hospital to visit Mitsukuni for a little while. Since coming out of the coma he could only stay awake in short spurts before he tired and had to rest. Matakara was grateful for every minute he got with his brother. The prognosis had been grim for a few days, but he should have known his brother was stronger than that. He really should have known a lot of things, but his fear had done a number on him. But today was a good day. Mitsukuni stayed awake for about twenty minutes listening with an easy smile while he told him all about his day. When he started to drift off, Matakara squeezed his hand and told him he would be back tomorrow. He bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead just like Mitsukuni did when he was little.
When he reached the Minato Kai clubhouse, Zabu was sitting outside on the wooden deck playing with a cat. He could hear the rest of the gang doing sparring drills inside. Zabu was too injured to participate. Kenichirou probably had to tell him to sit out. He stopped walking and watched as the teal-haired boy dangled a piece of string in front of the cat’s face and the fluffy white cat stood on her back legs to grab at it with her front paws. That cat had been coming around for the last couple of days. She had a fancy collar, so she clearly had to be someone’s pet. The group sort of adopted her as their unofficial mascot, lavishing all sorts of treats on her.
He noticed that Zabu’s arm was no longer in a sling, and he had a fabric brace with Velcro closures on his right wrist. His broken nose was still bandaged, but the bruising around his eyes from it had lessened some, leaving only the dark, raccoon-like rings under them. When his shoes scrapped the gravel, Zabu’s head shot up and he climbed, as quickly as his injured body would allow, to his feet. Startled by the sudden movement, the cat bolted off into the woods.
“Oh, hey Matakara,” he said nervously. “They started drills without you. I should get back inside.”
When he made a move to walk past him, Matakara grabbed Zabu by the elbow. The shorter boy flinched and tried to jerk away from him. Matakara panicked and let go immediately. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Golden eyes narrowed. “About what?”
“Not here. I’d like to talk privately.” He gestured with his head to the nearby woods. “How about we talk a walk?”
Zabu looked like he was annoyed by the idea, but it was only a thin veil to cover the unease that was radiating off him. “Yeah, okay, I guess.”
The two walked along the dirt trail until they could no longer hear the voices coming from the clubhouse. There was a small clearing with a few large boulders, so they stopped. Zabu crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the trunk of a tree waiting for Matakara to speak.
“So, um, how did your appointment today go?” The brunette started. He wanted to ease into this conversation. “Komao said you had a checkup.”
Zabu shrugged. “Ok, I guess. I don’t have to wear the sling anymore, but I have to wear this brace for at least six weeks. My nose is getting there. Today was the first day I didn’t have to deal with bloody post-nasal drip, so yay.”
Matakara felt himself frown at this news. He didn’t like the nonchalant way Zabu was listing off his injuries.
“My three cracked ribs will take a few weeks too. The concussion was also minor, so yeah, it’ll take some time before I’m back to normal. Is that all you wanted to know?’
The accusatory tone in the other teen’s voice felt like a punch in the gut. Matakara unconsciously placed his hand over his stomach to try and ease that sensation. “It’s good that you’re feeling better. But what I really-“
“They wanted to perform a rape kit on me the night I was brought in,” Zabu interrupted.
“A wha..” he wheezed. He suddenly became aware of the Earth’s rotation and had to sit down on one of the large boulders.
“The nurses saw the bruises on my hips and neck,” the teal-haired boy continued with the same detached tone. “I just told them I was gay and that those bruises were from my boyfriend and everything else was from the guys that jumped me. It was better for everyone if they believed I was hate-crimed.”
“Zabu, I’m so sorry,” he tried to offer. “About everything. That’s why I wanted to talk with you out here. I owe you so much more than just an apology. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen and least of all, I didn’t want to hurt you. I…I-”
Zabu pushed away from the tree and turned his back to him. “You didn’t, you know?”
Matakara sat up straight in surprise. “I didn’t?”
“Rape me,” Zabu said looking over his shoulder. “You didn’t rape me. I went to your room willingly.”
Matakara didn’t know if he was supposed to feel relieved at that revelation because he didn’t. He stood and walked the few steps to the other boy. “I still hurt you though,” he said softly. “Is this why you have been avoiding me?”
The shorter teen bristled at that question. “No,” he snapped, turning to face him. “I just want to be left alone for a bit, okay?”
“I understand, but I wanted to, no- needed to apologize to you, Zabu. You are my friend, and, in my anger, I lashed out at you when you did nothing to deserve it. Please believe me when I tell you that from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry for what I did to you.” He took a moment to take a deep breath. This was so much harder than he thought it was going to be. If he thought it would be accepted, he would have loved to pull the other boy into an embrace.
“Is that the reason you took me to your room that day? You were looking for someone to hurt?” Zabu’s voice sounded so small asking that question, but it was razor sharp.
“Zabu, please…I…” he tried to form an answer to that question, but the truth was something he could barely admit to himself. He did want to hurt something that day, but how could he tell that to Zabu? How could he admit to something so cruel? His silence was all the answer the other boy needed.
The teal-haired boy barked out a short, mirthless laugh. “So that’s the truth, huh?”
Matakara tried again. “Zabu, please you have to understand. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind that day. I was distraught about my brother, and I felt so weak and powerless. And then after the fight with Mairto, I was all over the place mentally.”
“So, I came by foolishly thinking I could help you and you used me?” Zabu yelled incredulously.
The brunette shrank back. Where was the lie? Anything other than the affirmative would not be the truth. “Yes,” he answered plainly. “I wasn’t going to force you, but I was looking for an outlet and you agreed to come with me. You didn’t know what I was going to do.”
Zabu scrubbed the angry tears in his eyes with the back of his fist. “Did you know?”
There was no sense in hiding anything now. “Not exactly, but I knew I was angry, and it probably wasn’t going to be gentle.” God, that hurt so much to say out loud.
Golden eyes turned down to the dirt at their feet. “Again…used again. I’m such a fucking idiot,” he whispered to no one in particular.
“Again?” Matakara inquired gently.
Another joyless laugh and then a sniffle. “Remember when you asked me if I had given a blow job before?” Matakara cautiously nodded. Zabu kept his eyes fixed on the ground, kicking his sneaker in the dirt as he continued. “My no-good dad used to bring home a co-worker sometimes so they could get drunk together. After my father passed out, he would come into my room and talk with me. He would give me sweets or sometimes money. After a while, when I guess he felt I was softened up enough, he convinced me that I could help him feel good. So, yeah that’s how I knew what to do.” Tears were streaming down the boy’s face when he finally looked up.
“Zabu…I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Matakara said breathlessly, as he reached out a hand to try and comfort the boy. Zabu smacked it away.
“Don’t fucking touch me! I was a lonely twelve-year-old, and he took advantage of that!” he shouted, his breath hitching. “And now, you’re telling me you fucking used me too.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “You know what? This conversation is over.” The teal-haired boy turned on his heel and began to walk deeper into the forest.
“Zabu, wait!” Matakara called out and made a move to follow. Zabu spun back around and leveled him with furious golden eyes.
“Don’t follow me, Matakara. In fact, don’t talk to me ever again. I can’t deal with this right now.”
Matakara let him storm off into the woods without any further protest. His apology had just blown up in his face like a two-megaton bomb. He deserved every ounce of hatred Zabu had for him. He was foolish for thinking there were words in existence that could ever make up for how he treated his friend. That he was beginning to recognize an attraction for Zabu only made that realization sting that much more. Any hope he had that they might be reciprocated died right then and there. He went to sit back down on the boulder, but in his shock, he missed and sat down hard on the ground.
“What have I done?”