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He was curled up on his bedroom floor. Wrapped up in his blanket, rocking back and forth, hands tightly fisted over his ears.
Hot tears flowed down his face like little boiling rivers, but he didn’t make a sound.
Vaguely, he registered how badly his body hurt, but everything was too fuzzy and he just couldn’t stop rocking back and forth, like stopping would tear the gaping void in his chest even wider.
He craved the release of a blade at his wrist, to try and pour the void out with his blood, but he couldn’t get up from his spot, he couldn’t stop rocking, he couldn’t scream for help.
Something happened. What happened?
Something caused this, and it hadn’t even been that long since- since whatever it was that happened.
He just couldn’t remember.
Like it always did, his brain was already caving to the pressure and quashing the memories of the night, and it hurt.
It hurt that when he tried to remember any point in his past that left him like this, all he was met with was crushing static.
He couldn’t tell anyone what the problem was if he couldn’t remember.
It hurt that almost all of the “memories” he thought had survived weren’t real, just something his broken mind had made up to fill the gaps.
It hurt that he couldn’t quite remember the feeling of comfort after nights like these when he needed it most, whether it was Ena or Toya or his mother back when she was still smiling.
(If such a time ever existed, because it was just as likely the memory of her smile was a made-up one too.)
It was rather hard to breathe.
His binder lay in a heap somewhere in his room, covered in bottle shards, like he had torn it off. He couldn’t remember why. He couldn’t understand why his ribs still felt crushed when it wasn’t on him.
It was almost mocking him. Even without his binder, every gasp that left him had his chest tighten further.
He wanted to scream for help, he wanted to be wrapped in the arms of his big sister or his lover, he just didn’t want to be alone, because he was going to die like this, and it was too painful a death.
He was rocking much more violently now, this time to distract from the burning feeling of a scream too big to fit through his closing throat.
He was going to die. Alone.
The scream lodged in his throat grew bigger. It still couldn’t find its way out.
He was going to die. He was going to die this suffocating, painful death. He was going to die he was going to die he was going to-
His phone lit up.
Toya <3 is calling…
He should pick up the phone.
He should, but he can’t move, can’t get up, can’t stop rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth-
He needs to pick up the phone.
He slammed his back into the floor, and the force unfroze him, leaving him with stars dancing across his vision. He tore the blanket off.
But by the time he got to the phone, he’d missed the call, and he wanted to scream his apology for not answering.
It caught in his throat with the rest of the pressure.
The world spun.
Toya was impossibly patient and kind and trusting though, enough to call again.
Akito didn’t deserve him, but he was selfish, and he picked up anyway.
“Hey Akito! I was just calling to ask if you were going to come over since you said 7:00 and it is now 8:00. I’m not bothered in the slightest if you cancel, we could hang out sometime tomorrow instead.”
He couldn’t speak through his constricted throat.
“Hello?”
He tapped the phone loudly, hoping it would make it clear he was there.
“…Is something wrong?”
Yes, he wanted to scream so badly, so selfishly. Please help me.
In the end, he said nothing.
“Ok. Akito, I’ll be over in five.”
He sounds so scared. It’s all his fault.
Before he could argue and tell him no, he shouldn’t, not for someone like me, the call cut. He’d clearly made his decision.
Akito didn’t deserve him.
He didn’t deserve Toya’s kindness, didn’t deserve to inconvenience him like this, didn’t deserve to tear him out of the comfort of his room just to deal with his whining.
But he doesn’t want to be alone. He’s scared. He’s tired.
He was selfish and pathetic for wanting his partner’s care. He’s dealt with shit like this on his own plenty of times anyway, asking for Toya’s help was just being greedy.
(He pretends he remembers the nights on his own going well, despite remembering nothing at all. After all, he could dump anything into the gaps in his memory, and it would all become ‘true’.)
His skin itched underneath, begging him to tear it off, so he dug his bitten nails into his skin until he felt the skin break. He dug them in over and over, watching the blood trickle down his arm before moving his hands further down his arms and repeating the process. This was what he got. He shouldn’t have made Toya worry. He deserved the pain. He wanted it. It kept the haze away. It kept him on earth.
Time flies when you feel nothing but the stinging of nail-sized cuts.
He tried to dig his nails into another bare spot on his arms, following the pattern, always following the pattern, but soft hands caught his rough ones and pulled them away.
“Akito, please don’t do that.”
I’m sorry, he wanted to say, but the clump of stress and unsaid things had grown too big and nothing would come out.
“Why don’t we patch you up?”
Silence.
“You don’t need to say anything, just nod or shake your head or do anything that might tell me what you need.”
He stared at Toya with wide eyes.
Toya looked back, thinly veiled panic bubbling beneath a small smile. He took a shaky breath.
“Sorry, that was vague. Can I bandage your arms?”
Akito nodded.
He took Toya’s outstretched hands and stood up, burying his face into Toya’s shoulder.
They sat down on his bed.
“It’s going to sting, but it’s just disinfectant.”
He didn’t know how to tell him he was far too used to the feeling to care, so he didn’t.
His mouth was sealed shut anyway.
Toya carefully wrapped his arms in the bandages, humming some disconnected tune to himself. Perhaps to distract Akito, or to distract himself.
Soft lips pressed against the side of his arm told him he was done.
Toya stopped humming. There was nothing to fill the silence.
“I’m going to go get you a glass of water, ok?”
He didn’t reply. Toya left the room quietly.
Alone again.
It was far too silent. He only had the pain of the cuts to keep him sane.
But the bandages were doing their job too well. The pain was starting to fade, and with it went the calm it had induced. He could feel his mind slipping away.
His surroundings blurred. Was there someone with him? He couldn’t remember.
No. Nonono.
His breathing spiralled out of control. Again.
He needs to hurt himself somewhere. His fingernails were met with a wall of bandages.
He can’t breathe.
He’s going to die.
Not again-
He can’t breathe-
“A…to?!”
He pinched the skin on his legs hard.
It hurt, but it wasn’t enough, and the skin was too thick for his chewed nails to break.
There were scissors somewhere. He needed them.
“Ak…o, wait-”
Someone was reaching for him. He needed to tell them to stay away, back off, to let him hurt himself, to let him have control back, but words still weren’t forming. He backed away blindly instead, and his head hit the wall.
He saw stars.
“Akito!”
He was lifted off the wall by arms wrapped around him in a loose embrace. It was almost comfortable.
No.
He tore himself out of the hold and shoved whoever it was away. He doesn’t want comfort. He doesn’t deserve it.
He just wanted the damn scissors.
A violent wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he let his eyes fall shut and his mind slip the rest of the way.
A yelp of pain pulled him back into reality.
Toya was leaning against the wall with a hand pressed to the back of his head, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
He fucked up. He really fucked up.
Akito took in a shuddering breath as Toya opened his eyes.
He didn’t mean to, he really, really didn’t mean to, please don’t let Toya be mad…
No. He’d deserve it if he was.
“Akito, are you- ow- okay?”
He’s not mad. He should be. Why isn’t he mad?
Toya really was something else. He’d just done something unforgivable, he’d just hurt him, but his first thought was to ask if he was okay. Why was he so kind? And to something like him?
He nodded and squashed the last of the panic deep into the pit in his stomach. He won’t let himself slip. He won’t hurt Toya again. Won’t, won’t, won’t.
Toya’s voice shook. It scared him. “Can I hug you?”
He nodded again.
This time, when Toya’s soft arms wrapped around him, he sank into the embrace. Buried in his arms, he finally found his voice.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he croaked over and over, tears spilling onto Toya’s neck.
“Shhh, don’t apologise.”
He couldn’t stop. They were the only words that would fit through his voice box.
He kept saying them, shaking his head. At some point he regained control of his voice, but he just kept saying sorry. The repetitive pattern became calming.
Toya seemed to understand. He sat there quietly, waiting for him.
When he could finally wrestle his mouth shut, Toya started rubbing circles into his back and pressed a kiss to his hair.
It was comfortably silent, punctured by the occasional hiccup. Time passed.
Akito interrupted it first. He was stuttering violently, but he needed to talk.
He fought the first word. The word “I” over and over, until he could squeeze the rest out.
“I shouldn’t have made- made you come he- here.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t make me do anything. I’m glad I can be here. I’m glad that everything’s okay.”
But- but- everything’s no- not okay. We b- both know we’re lu- luck- lucky I couldn’t get my hands on alcohol or some- something sharp, I hurt you, and ev-ven a fucking- fucking rock can tell you’re scared of me right now.
…Were even his thoughts stuttering now?
“Akito…”
He froze. His thoughts weren’t stuttering, he’d said that out loud.
“‘M sorry.”
“Please don’t apologise. Just- please.”
“Okay.” He pressed his back further into Toya’s chest.
Toya tightened his embrace in response.
“None of that matters right now. Can we just make it through tonight?” He asked, his voice flat with forced calm.
He nodded slightly. He could do that.
Toya sighed.
“What- made this happen?”
Akito wracked his brains for an answer, he really did, but everything was already static.
He answered honestly.
He fought the first word. Like always.
“Can’t remember.”
Toya let out a frustrated huff.
“I’m sor-”
He cut him off. “Not your fault.”
Rain began to patter against the window. It wasn’t too loud.
The repetitive sound felt nice.
Rain could be peaceful, he supposed, so long as he wasn’t in it.
“It’s pretty late. Why don’t we get some rest, I’ll stay the night.”
“Your dad’ll get mad thou-”
“I don’t give a damn what my father thinks.” Toya hissed, interrupting him
Akito flinched.
Toya seemingly jumped at his own comment. “Sorry, that was uncalled for, everything is starting to get to me a little.” He chuckled humorlessly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Drink the water, I’ll get us changed.”
He buried himself in the laundry pile.
Akito raised the glass to his lips, letting the cool water soothe his scratched, rough throat and wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. It was sad to see it empty.
As he set the glass down, Toya reappeared with their nightclothes.
“Can I?”
“Mm.”
Toya quickly slipped into his loose tee and pyjama pants, before hugging him from behind to pull his shirt off. He always made sure he wasn’t looking at Akito’s chest.
He always understood.
His hands lingered against the bare skin on his waist. It felt nice.
And then the hands left to pull his shirt on, and he craved the touch. He needed it. If not pain, then love.
As soon as his arms were through the sleeves, he tackled them onto the bed, and in seconds they were tangled in a desperate kiss.
His mind and throat began to clear, and his senses came back.
Something wet had fallen onto his cheeks.
He opened his eyes.
Toya was crying, and it was his fault.
And then he realised he had started crying again, too.
Toya pulled away first.
“Akito, I’m sorry, I came here to comfort you and I’m being pathetic-”
He silenced him with another kiss. Guilt roiled in his gut.
He’s so tired. It’s all his fault.
“No more being sad. If you’re pathetic for crying, I’m worse ‘cause I made you cry.”
“No, Akito, you aren’t-”
“Then you aren’t, either.”
“Akito…”
“Save it for when we’re married. Wanna sleep.”
When, not if. He made a promise. He’ll live to keep it.
“Mm.” He pressed a kiss to his temple.
Sleepiness clawed at his veins, but the leftover adrenaline kept him awake. So they talked.
Toya caught on quickly. “What’s the wedding ring gonna look like?”
“Something simple. I’ll draw it tomorrow.”
Their conversation floated into miscellaneous nothings as time passed, an unspoken agreement to distract from it all.
After a while, their words became punctuated with more and more yawns.
And when their eyes drifted closed and their breathing even, they dreamt of a future where all of this was behind them.
They’d make it there.
They’d be okay.