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Mitsuya had no reason to come here.
Why did he decide to go anyway?
Nostalgia? Or self-torture? Or both, since those two were entwined and couldn't be separated from one another.
Or did he hope for something (or rather, someone) to happen?
To be there?
Like some cosmic coincidence, like some divine machination?
Lies, Mitsuya bit his lips. There was no such thing like the stars aligning themselves, like the fate tying the hands together.
Mitsuya knew what would happen, or at least, he knew the percentage of the probabilities, because if he didn't, what would he come here, out of all the places he could visit?
"Mitsuya."
His name had never sounded so heavenly. No one could ever replicate the tone, no one would ever have the ability to make his name flow so gently.
For a moment, Mitsuya was torn between pretending he didn't expect Draken to be there, or completely ignoring Draken so that he would just leave him there.
In the span of seconds, he decided: since Draken had said his goodbye properly, if they ever crossed paths, Mitsuya should say hello in such manner too.
Even if it was painful.
To merely stand so close to Draken, and yet, there had never been a bigger gap between them.
Mitsuya thought of himself as a pretty rational person, he had never gotten easily jealous over something trivial.
And yet.
When he saw Draken, in his Brahman's uniform, Mitsuya scared himself by ever thinking to rip the garment apart only to watch it burn.
Who dared to put another design on Draken, like Mitsuya used to do?
Swallowing the ugly emotions, Mitsuya forced himself to smile.
"Hello, Draken." And since he was a petty person, his eyes wandered over him briefly, didn't bother to hide his judgmental stare. "Nice uniform."
Even if Draken absolutely didn't have to, he still grinned sheepishly.
"How are you, Mitsuya?"
That winter was the last time he had any contact with Draken.
No phone call, no email.
Nothing, nada.
Why would they do any of it?
Draken already bid his goodbye and Mitsuya had no choice but to accept the farewell. It didn't matter whether they still shared a city, that there were thousands of ways for them to see each other.
Draken had gone, leaving him behind.
Don't follow me, Mitsuya. Draken couldn't make himself anymore clearer.
Fine, I won't.
And yet.
"Good," Mitsuya answered, and he didn't want to sound so desperate for Draken's attention, but he just couldn't help himself from adding, "Great even, I'm taking more responsibility at the firm. Might qualify for the best part-timer."
There was a little part of Mitsuya that hoped Draken would be devastated, hearing him so thriving. He wanted Mitsuya to be the fashion designer like he had always dreamed of? Fine, Mitsuya would make it happen.
He wasn't lying, too. He did dedicate his free time, now that he wasn't part of any gang, to work harder in his part-time job. He threw himself into studying more, working more, anything that could keep his mind off the temptations of ditching everything and following a certain someone.
Mitsuya would say, he did a pretty good job.
If Draken had ever asked whether he could take back his words from their last encounter, Mitsuya would have to take some time to reconsider.
And yet.
Draken, like the Draken that Mitsuya always knew, whistled, the unmistakable pride in his voice as he said, "That's so cool. I know you could make it, Mitsuya."
Mitsuya squashed down the urge to throttle Draken, he looked to the other way instead, clearing his throat.
"How about you?" He didn't beat around the bush, choosing to address the obvious. "Any progress with Brahman?"
He didn't elaborate, knowing Draken was perfectly capable of reading between the lines. In response, Draken let out a surprised 'Hm?' as if he didn't expect Mitsuya to know about Brahman.
To Draken, Mitsuya was living an ordinary life now, wasn't he?
Why would he have any knowledge about the delinquent world?
Draken didn't address the issue.
"Small progress is still a progress."
He also didn't explain further either.
Even if Mitsuya was knowledgeable, he was still an outsider. He wasn't part of anything that Draken was the part of.
So, it's still a long road, Mitsuya concluded.
It seemed that Draken barely scratched the surface.
Funny, how it felt like forever since the last time he and Draken stood on the same side of the cliff.
And now, Draken was over there, almost unreachable.
Would it make any difference, if Mitsuya was there too?
"Is that a fancy way to say, you don't have a clear plan about what to do?" Mitsuya didn't mean to sneer, but he couldn't help the words from overflowing.
Draken chuckled, clearly recognizing his tone and apparently finding it hilarious. "Maybe. Open to any possibility, I'd say. Anything could happen."
Mitsuya tried his best to not pull Draken down and land a couple of jabs into his stomach, maybe a hard punch right on his nose too.
What should it take to make him realize that it was futile work? Why would he want to save someone who didn't want to be saved? Draken wasn't responsible for whatever poor choice Mikey made. Would Draken go to this extent if it was Mitsuya in Mikey's place?
He left you, stupid, Mitsuya chastised himself bitterly. You know, where his priorities were laid on.
Like he didn't know better.
In the end, Mitsuya shut down those ugly thoughts. He would never win against them, anyway.
He knew, no matter how much he wanted to, Mitsuya could never have won from Mikey.
Mikey would always remain the big picture in Draken's gallery, the one that he would guard with his life, while Mitsuya should have just been satisfied if he ever ended up as a footnote in Draken's book.
"I see." Even if he didn't see anything. "Best of luck, I guess."
Draken sighed, in a way that Mitsuya recognized as his 'this is such an hassle, but I still have to do it' kind of sigh.
"That's all I need."
Mitsuya forced himself to turn his back, no matter how much it seemed like the hardest thing to do.
Because it is.
Goodbye, farewell, they both had said them all.
It would be easier to be the one to walk away this time. It would be better if he wasn't the one to stay behind.
That was all Draken had ever wanted, wasn't it?
"Uh, I gotta go," Mitsuya pulled up his hoodie, covering his lilac hair. He didn't know what else to say, so he opted for the safest. "Guess, I'll see you around?"
Naively wishing Draken wasn't so perceptive to not catch the longing.
Either Mitsuya was too obvious or Draken simply knew him way too well.
"I hope not, Mitsuya," Draken's voice was quiet, but it hurt him just the same.
Mitsuya was glad he didn't meet Draken's eyes when Draken said that, or Mitsuya wouldn't be held responsible for the awful things he might do to him.
Mitsuya had no reason to come here.
Why did he decide to go anyway?
Nostalgia? Or self-torture? Or both, since those two were entwined and couldn't be separated from one another.
Or did he hope for something (or rather, someone) to happen?
To be there?
Like some cosmic coincidence, like some divine machination?
Lies, Mitsuya bit his lips.
This was the only place that he and Draken knew, the one that they cherished, the one that bound them like the twinning tattoos on their temple. The dragon was their red thread, tying them up, whether they wanted it or not.
Since that day, I never stopped following him, Mitsuya once earnestly promised.
We are the Twin Dragons of Toman, Draken once proudly said.
And yet.
He had to stop.
Draken no longer needed nor wanted him by his side.
What twin? Mitsuya scarcely had any visible evidence that tied him to Draken. Draken had claimed the dragon all by himself. It was Draken's dragon, not Mitsuya's anymore.
He was fine with it, wasn't it?
It had never bothered Mitsuya before, why would it matter now?
Say goodbye, this time for good.
So he did.
"Bye, Draken."
Mitsuya never looked back.
And yet, watching Draken through his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller, Mitsuya wondered.
He wouldn't regret this, would he?