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“Hey, An-chan!” Souma says, and An-chan gives him a bright smile.
“Hey!”
She bolts across the sidewalk and runs over to Arata and Souma.
“Did you see us at that event?” Souma asks, and An-chan laughs.
“Yeah! You guys were so cool!”
Souma lets out a dry cough, and Arata sighs.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.”
“Oh, I’ll get ‘em for you!” An-chan says, and she bolts off before Arata can stop her.
So he and Souma bolt off after her, and suddenly there’s a… sound.
Arata doesn’t really process it for a few seconds, but Souma moves without thinking.
It’s what he does. Souma moves without thinking, Arata never moves without thinking.
He practically tackles An-chan, wrapping himself around her, and suddenly a car slams right into them.
It’s like it’s in slow-motion. They go over the head of the car, and Souma lands harshly.
Arata finally fucking processes it, and he bolts over to the pair.
“Souma?! An-chan?!”
Souma doesn’t respond, but An-chan is shivering.
It’s almost instinctive how Arata reaches over to pull An-chan out of Souma’s arms, and she clings onto Arata like a lifeline.
“S-Souma…” She stutters.
She’s… crying, and Arata has no idea how to handle that.
Especially not when he feels like crying himself.
He leans down and touches his hand to Souma’s neck, and Souma lets out a pained groan.
“Hey.” Arata whispers.
“An… An-chan…?” Souma groans back.
“She’s fine.”
Arata pulls his jacket off and tries to figure out where the bleeding is coming from.
Finally, it’s like everything comes back into motion. People start running around, and Ken-san appears next to Arata in an instant.
“What the hell happened?!”
An-chan starts to tear up even more.
“I-I was going across the street, and a car started coming, and Souma…”
An-chan doesn’t even need to finish the sentence. It’s obvious what happened.
She starts clinging onto her dad, and he absentmindedly pats her on the head while looking at Souma.
“You did good, kid. I can’t thank you enough.” Ken-san says.
“It’s… fine.” Souma says. “As long as she’s okay…”
“Worry about yourself, idiot.” Arata snaps. “For once, forget about everyone else.”
Souma raises an arm and wipes away a tear on Arata’s face.
“You know I can’t do that.” He whispers. “I can’t forget about you, or An-chan, or anyone.”
“You’re too nice for your own damn good.” Arata sighs, and Souma lets out a pained laugh.
“Probably. But it’s okay. I don’t regret a thing.”
His eyes start to flutter shut.
“Hey. Stay awake.” Arata snaps, but Souma’s not listening. “Stay awake!”
Souma’s eyes are shut, and he really, really hopes that it’s just him and that Souma’s really not getting cold that fast.
And… and then he’s screaming.
He’s almost blind with pain when the ambulance finally arrives, and everything’s a blur.
But Ken-san’s grabbing him, and he’s being dragged away from the ambulance.
“Hey, stop! Let me go! Ken-san, let me go!”
Ken-san’s saying… something, but he can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears.
An-chan’s stumbling along behind them, her apricot eyes still wide with shock.
He’s in Ken-san’s house, An-chan runs over to her mom, and his hands are shaking.
He’s still covered in blood.
“I’m calling Yoka.” Ken-san says. “Just… just hang out here for a sec, okay?”
Arata can’t breathe. He can’t hear sirens anymore, which means that Souma’s already gone.
What’s the fastest way to get to the hospital? He could try to run off, but in the state he’s in, he’s likely to get stopped by police.
There’s blood on his hands.
They’re shaking.
He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, but Yuka-san grabs it gently.
“You’re going to get blood in your hair, Arata-kun.” She sighs gently, and the situation is so absurd that Arata can’t help but laugh.
“That’s it? That’s what you’re worried about?” He chuckles. “My partner got hit by a fucking car, Yuka-san!”
“I know.” She whispers. “I know, but you’re spiraling right now.”
“Spiraling?” Arata laughs. “Why would I be spiraling?! Oh, maybe because your daughter was such an idiot that she didn’t look both ways before she crossed the street? Maybe because my partner had to throw her out of the way? Maybe because he might be dying and your daughter is perfectly fine?!”
An-chan squeaks.
“It’s… it’s my fault…?” She asks, and Yuka-san turns back to her.
“No, An. No, it’s not.”
“Don’t lie to her.” Arata hisses, pulling his arm out of her grip. “It is all her fault. You hear me, An?! It’s all your fucking fault!”
An-chan shrinks back, her eyes welling up with tears.
“But… but… I did look both wa—”
“Really?! That’s not what I saw! You just ran into the road like that and expected us to come running in to rescue you! You little—!”
“Kid!” Ken-san snaps. “Let’s take a walk!”
His arm is grabbed again, this time by Ken-san. And this time it’s significantly tighter.
They’re out the door in a second, and Arata spins on his heel the moment his arm is released.
“Make you feel better?” Ken-san asks. “Bullying a little girl?”
“It was her fault, and you know it!”
Ken-san crosses his arms.
“I know you’re hurting, which is why I haven’t knocked your teeth in.”
“If she hadn’t—!”
“You don’t know that, kid. Souma knew what he was doing. By saying that, you’re not just disrespecting An, you’re disrespecting your partner.”
Arata steps back.
“You’re just defending her because she’s your daughter.” He hisses.
And Ken-san’s eyes soften.
“I love you and Souma like you’re my own kids.” He finally says. “And you’ve always treated An like a little sister. I appreciate that. But you’re taking out your feelings about the accident on her, and that’s not okay. She’s suffering too.”
“She’s suffering?! You left Souma in the ambulance alone! Don’t lie to me. You wouldn’t have treated her that way.”
Arata pushes past him and stalks away, and Ken-san turns to him.
“Kid, they won’t let you in.” He sighs. “They won’t let anyone in.”
“Then I’ll wait outside his room.” Arata snaps back. “Because that’s what people actually do for their loved ones.”
~
It’s been three years since that day, and Ken still sometimes can’t sleep when he thinks about how it ended.
Arata left. Flew to America, somehow managed to scrounge up a visa and is performing over there.
He knew that kid was smart, but he didn’t think that’d be enough to stay out of the country for this long at his age.
But then he looks up from wiping down the bar, and…
“…You came back.” Ken says, and Arata looks away.
“My visa expired. It was either try and become a citizen or come home.”
Ken sighs.
“How you doing, kid?”
“You don’t have to be polite, Ken-san. I just… I wanted to tell you I was sorry. And I guess I have to apologize to Akito-kun and An-chan too.”
Ken raises an eyebrow.
“You’re the one who told Akito he would never make it?”
Arata looks up, emerald eyes peeking out from his sunset bangs.
“I think we both know by now that I say things I don’t mean when I’m angry.”
His eyes look… different.
Tired. Less of the spark that used to be there.
He can still picture Arata and Souma, all tangled up in a ball of limbs in one of the back alleys, just… standing there.
And yet, Arata’s eyes never looked more alive.
“You’re still hurting.” Ken says, pouring a cup of coffee.
And Arata fiddles with his ring.
“…Every day.” He breathes. “Every single day.”
And Ken says the only thing he can think of.
“I still visit him, you know?” He says.
And for a second, a bit of that spark returns to Arata’s eyes.
“How is he?” He gasps.
Ken places the cup of coffee in front of him, loaded with milk and sugar.
“He misses you.”
And it’s the truth.
Ken never told Souma what happened, about what Arata said. The kid said those things in anger, and people sometimes say things they don’t mean.
And… he’s not blind.
Those clips he finds of Arata singing in underground clubs online are his lifeline. He doesn’t regret what he did, but he still wishes there had been another way. Telling him about what happened afterwards… it would just put unnecessary strain on him. Strain he really doesn’t need.
And Arata puts his head in his hands.
“How could he still… after everything I did…?” He chokes out, and Ken shrugs.
“Same way I still missed you, kid. What you said was fucked up, but… you’re still you.
Arata takes a sip of his coffee, his shoulders dropping as the warmth hits him.
“I’m… I’m going to go talk to An-chan.” He mutters, and he’s off in the cold night air before Ken can stop him.
~
Arata paces over to An-chan, sucking in a pained breath.
He can’t put this off any longer. An-chan needs an apology.
Ken-san was right. He knows that Ken-san was right.
He can still see those apricot eyes of hers, wide with fear and panic.
And…
No. Stop.
Not now.
“An-chan.” He starts, and An-chan turns around.
“Hey, Tono. What’s up?” She asks, and Arata flinches slightly.
He kinda deserves being demoted from Arata, now that he thinks about it.
“Look, I just wanted to tell you I was sorry. For everything.”
An-chan raises an eyebrow.
“Did you already apologize to Akito?”
God, he knows he probably should, but he really doesn’t want to.
“It’s not about that.” He says. “It’s… about three years ago.”
An-chan raises an eyebrow.
“Dude, what happened three years ago?” She asks. “We didn’t even know each other back then.”
Arata blinks.
“An-chan, what—”
“I mean I know we were both on Vivid Street and you knew my dad, but as far as I can remember, we never interacted.”
“But, when Souma—”
“Who’s that?”
And that’s when it all clicks in Arata’s head.
She…
She doesn’t remember.
She doesn’t remember any of it. The accident, the blame…
She doesn’t even remember him.
And that’s like a knife to his chest.
All the things they did, all the memories they shared…
But…
But, he guesses he deserves that.
After all that’s happened, he certainly deserves that.
“…You’re right.” He mutters. “I must have confused you for someone else. See you later.”
And he steps away from her as she mutters something about him being crazy.
It’s better this way. Better that she’s not weighed down with the guilt and grief that haunts Arata every waking moment.
And he resolves something at that moment.
He’ll make sure she never remembers it. That she can live a happy and free life.
That’ll be his penance.