Work Text:
Another day of lackluster performance, another day of overtime – it felt entirely deserved at this point, Akinashi Haru’s extra share. He didn’t know how he keeps managing to mess up. His manager made it clear, though: if Haru fails to deliver during the work day, he is to stay until he fixes it. This made sense, he needs to put in the effort to make up for his inadequacies. Still, it was exhausting. He couldn’t wait to finally go home and crash (so that he could do it again tomorrow).
Haru didn’t like to think about the future much. Nevermind that as a teen he never thought he’d make it so long. Clearly he continues to live, and life continues to happen around him, but if Haru dwelled on the prospect of having to keep going in the face of endless days of this purgatory, he would probably be paralyzed with hopelessness. So his days are just that – bite-sized chunks to navigate without the threat of another dogging its steps. He was almost free, today.
So when a cry rang out from the document closet, it sounded like the click of a lock.
Who the hell was still here at this time? What was that yell? Is someone hurt? Do they need help? Was Haru the only person here who could help until morning? Would they know if he just left now? Would they tell his manager?
Was this seriously all on Haru?
He sat there a full minute, unwilling to confront whoever cried out. He hated talking to his coworkers. He hated talking. Social interactions were minefields Haru could never cross unscathed. He would inevitably fuck this up too, make the situation in there even worse somehow.
But- if it got back to his manager that Haru had intentionally left a colleague in peril, he’d be out of a job. He barely manages to keep it as it is.
Slowly, Haru stood from his lumpy desk chair and made himself approach the document closet.
He opened the door to find his coworker, Shion Tatsunami, bent over in what seemed like pain. Haru hesitated. Of course it had to be Shion, of all people. Of course there was no one else to help.
From across the room, Shion raised his head and brightened, clutching his stomach.
“Senpai!” He called out. Haru couldn’t hear any pain in his voice. Anxiety and resentment both pooled in Haru’s gut. “Thank goodness you’re here – could you come help me for a moment? I’m afraid I can’t walk.”
Shion punctuated his plea with a sweet smile, although his eyes failed to crinkle with it. Of course he’s the type to smile even when in agony. He was more resilient than Haru, too.
Haru stepped inside, letting the door behind him swing shut. He pulled out his phone and started navigating to the keypad to call 119, but Shion cut him off.
“No, no! You don’t need to call anyone, this is normal! Just, just come and help me get to the station, alright? Please, Senpai?”
Haru didn’t like this. This did not feel normal. He had never seen Shion like this before, the almost desperate edge to his tone. There was something about this entire thing, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on…
A sudden click from behind him stopped Haru in his tracks. He watched as Shion straightened at the noise, all traces of pain gone from his body language. He turned back to the door and wrenched down on the handle. A cold dread already pooled in his stomach before he knew for sure: no matter how hard he tried, the door wouldn’t open.
Haru was having a difficult time getting his breath to slow down enough to keep him from going dizzy with lack of oxygen. He looked down at the handle, the door, the wall beside – nothing but a keyhole. A key, he needed a key. Or! Or he could call the police, they’ll get him out of here.
He turned again, his teeth buzzing the way they do when he is prey: focusing his animal fear where it can do the most damage.
Shion stood there, a placid smile painted on his well-groomed face.
“Oh, Senpai, it’s best if you calm down a little. You’re going to make yourself sick at this rate.”
His coworker took a step forward.
Haru took one back. “Did- the door, did you-?”
He really was going to be sick, if he didn’t faint first – a familiar nausea threatened the contents of his last meal, saliva gathering in his mouth.
Shion shook his head.
“But- but why aren’t you…” Haru got out, before his words died on his tongue. He simply couldn’t summon speech in front of Shion’s implacable calm, the certainty of a predator. Alarm bells clanged in his skull. Another wave of lightheadedness followed.
“There are a lot of really important documents here, you know? Higher-ups don’t want to risk them getting stolen. So, the door automatically locks at nine. It should’ve been in the company handbook,” he smiles innocently.
What he doesn’t say is, “You would’ve known that if you had read it.”
He took another step forward.
Haru’s back hit the door, the handle digging into his side.
“Oh, and there’s no service in here. It’s like the place was built from lead,” Shion chuckled.
“Wh-what do you want?” he managed, hands up defensively.
Shion frowned a little at that. He gently took Haru’s wrists, lowering them in what was obviously meant to be a soothing gesture. It was not.
“Listen, I just want to talk,” Shion says with the earnesty that – Haru knew – masked condescension. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I couldn’t think of any way to get you to listen! I don’t get why-” he cut off with a frustrated noise.
Haru tried his luck at pulling out of Shion’s grip. It tightened for a second, then released. Shion didn’t back up though, murmuring, “I’m taking care of her. You don’t have to worry about it any more, Senpai. She won’t hurt you again.”
His sheer bewilderment must have shown on his face, because Shion chuckles self-consciously. The junior had the look of a schoolgirl confessing to her crush: embarrassed but determined. The almost endearing vulnerability of it made it all the nerve-wracking, because what the hell was he talking about?
“Your manager. It was because of her you stopped talking to me, right? She was so awful to you that day – even more than usual, just atrocious. And then you…” Shion shifts just the smallest bit back, “So, I thought, obviously you’d be happier if she was gone. You just have to wait ‘til the weekend. I’ve got it all figured out, Senpai, don’t worry.”
He punctuated his vague declaration with a pat on Haru’s arm, like a consolation.
“What… are you gonna do to her?” Haru creaked around the cresting nausea. If Shion didn’t back off soon, he’d probably get vomited on.
His colleague hesitated for just a touch too long before answering, “Nothing she doesn’t deserve. Just leave it all to me, okay?”
Haru responded by pushing Shion out of the way and finally releasing the meager contents of his stomach onto the ground. He folded over on himself from the force of it, unable to stop himself from jumping to the worst possible conclusion. What did Shion think she deserves? What could prevent her from “hurting” Haru again?
Why did he keep imagining her bloodied corpse?
Shion was rubbing his back and cooing, murmuring assurances. They all fell flat on his ears.
Haru didn’t rise from his squat once his gut had emptied. He didn’t trust the strength of his legs. He simply stared at the pool of waste, the bile soaking into the floor under his loafers. A half-digested slurry dotted with bright orange chunks of carrot. Rejected, theoretically, to make room to flee. There is nowhere to flee.
He felt gentle fingers on his chin, urging him to look up. What else could Haru do? Shion took a handkerchief out of his pocket and carefully wiped his mouth, nearly motherly.
It was terrifying.
Clearly Shion wanted something from him, both in trapping him here and in treating him so kindly. There was an angle he was playing. What could he possibly want from Haru, of all people? What does it have to do with the manager? Haru never saw him be anything but praised by their manager. Shion already had everything – success, popularity, good looks. He probably never ate lunch in an empty conference room. There is nothing he could give him.
“What do you want?” he said again, unable to think of anything better. “From… from me?”
Shion giggled, halfway between amused and bitter. “You ignore me for months, and you want to know what I want?” His tone was incredulous, like Haru was the one being obtuse. “What about what Senpai wants, hm? How can I make you happy?”
What.
What would make Haru happy???
How was that the least bit relevant in this situation? Why would Shion, who has looked down on Haru for their entire two years of knowing each other, care about his happiness? What is the angle here? It was driving him mad.
These sentiments were wrapped up succinctly into a strained little sound from the back of his throat.
At the noise, Shion reached towards Haru’s face, but apparently thought better of it. He instead took his arm and hefted him upright, leading the still-shaky man away from the vomit. Haru didn’t want to lean on him, this painfully gentle man, this angel of justice who must know that Haru deserved none of his pity. Haru deserved nothing, wanted nothing.
(Except maybe Aoi back.
But that ship had sailed.)
Shion propped him up against the far wall, tucked between high document cabinets. It was kind of nice. Haru had always liked small, dark spaces. They felt safe.
Shion still stood, bearing down on him. That sweet smile he plasters on so often was warped by shadows, so that Haru felt its edges had become sharp and hungry. His pulse picked up again.
Shion’s white hair was stark against the darkness, framing him like a halo. They watched each other, silent. It was becoming unbearable.
Haru swallowed thickly, Shion’s eyes following the motion of his throat. He tried to clear it, and clear it again.
“Tatsunami,” he started. His colleague’s eyes snapped up to his own. “Tatsunami, what… do you want?”
Shion laughed, a startled thing. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me that, Senpai.” He crouched, holding eye contact like a leash. “If you want to know so badly, should I show you?”
How was Haru meant to respond to that? He only managed a slightly strangled “Um?”
Shion snorted. It had a cruel edge to it, completely divorced from the amiable amusement Haru normally got from him. Perhaps it should’ve scared him, but something inside Haru had actually relaxed. Finally, the other shoe had dropped. Haru no longer had to wait and wonder for the catch. This made sense.
Shion wanted to hurt him.
Unsurprising, considering everyone wanted to hurt him. It was simply that Haru had never met someone so determined to cloak it, to get into his good graces before pulling the knife.
This also meant Haru was in a situation he knew how to handle: obey, take the hits, last until morning. Or don’t. Maybe he’d finally die, and it wouldn’t even be his fault!
His resignation must’ve shown on his face, because Shion seemed surprised. He leaned in slowly, as if waiting for Haru to push him away. Haru wouldn’t. He knew better.
Shion paused a couple inches from Haru’s face. His eyes were blown wide, pupils threatening to swallow the soft brown of his irises. He brought a hand to Haru’s neck, measuring his rapid pulse beneath his thumb.
Haru could barely breathe.
He was waiting for Shion to tear at his vulnerable skin, or to slam his head against the wall, or something. He felt like a mouse being toyed with, hope of release drawn out as long as possible before it would be decisively smothered. Just do it already. Waiting was worse.
He heard Shion’s breath stutter, and the hand at Haru’s throat squeezed a little. Then, without warning, Shion lowered his head to Haru’s neck and bit. A bright pain exploded from where his teeth sunk into his flesh, and Haru let out something between a shriek and a sob. His head hit the wall, his hands clenched around Shion’s shoulders.
Shion wrenched back like he was burned. “Oh, oh no, Senpai, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I was just-” He grabbed the hands on his shoulders, but Haru tore them away.
“Shit, here, let me-” he began reaching for Haru’s bloodied neck again. Haru growled, bearing his teeth. Shion took the message and pulled back.
Haru was meant to be lying down and taking it, but he hadn’t- he never expected this. To be bitten into like a piece of meat, it was nothing he’d ever experienced before. The most instinctual parts of him reared and struggled, demanding to live.
He was trapped. Between the wall and the cabinets, there was nowhere to go. Haru was desperate to get out of this corner where still Shion loomed over him. There was nothing else he could do: he leapt at Shion like a rabid dog, toppling the both of them over. There was nothing else in Haru’s mind but live, live, live.
Shion’s head slammed against the ground, the crack of it audible even with all the panting and rustling. Haru wrapped his hands around his coworker’s throat, pressing as much weight down onto it as he could muster. Shion’s hands scrabbled at the grip, making quiet little choking noises as tears began streaming down his face.
Past the overwhelming animal panic, a thought bubbled up in Haru’s mind. Shion looked so scared like that, so vulnerable. He looked pathetic.
It was incredible.
This man, who was so put-together it seemed like he floated above the nasty, dirty world Haru lived in – he could be reduced to prey too. And Haru, then, was the predator here.
The rush of power that hit him at that moment was intoxicating. He’d never felt anything like it. He could kill Shion right now – he was killing him. He had Shion’s life entirely in the palm of his hand.
A sharp burst of pain erupted from Haru’s crotch where Shion kneed him, and his grip loosened just enough that the man underneath him could rip his hands away. Shion bucked, dislodging him enough to roll them over, hands pinning his wrists.
“Stop, stop! Senpai, please!” Shion cried, his voice rough from choking. “Please, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have! Let me explain!”
Although he said he’d explain, Shion simply gave flat reassurances while he held him down. It was a long time before Haru calmed down. Minutes, probably, though it felt longer. He was completely drained, the adrenaline crash leaving him shaky. His neck still ached and the surrounding skin was tacky with dried blood. He felt awful.
Finally, Shion loosened his grip on his wrists. “I’m sorry,” he repeated for the hundredth time. “You are just so- so alive, you know? I wanted to…” he trailed off.
“To bite me,” completed Haru.
“I didn’t think you’d react like that! You never-”
“How did you think I’d react, Tatsunami? What could you possibly have been trying to achieve?”
“You were supposed to push me away! The same way you always do! Or if you didn’t…” he turned his head away from Haru so that his expression was hidden.
“If I didn’t?”
Shion just shook his head. “I was too hasty. I should have waited. Senpai, I’m sorry.”
Waited for what? No matter how many times Haru asked, he still couldn’t figure out what it was that Shion wanted from him.
Perhaps it wasn’t about him at all. Perhaps Shion would take whoever fell into his trap. Perhaps he was just the weakling picked off from the back of the herd. That made more sense than the idea that Haru had anything to give.
He sighed heavily. “Okay. Fine. You’re sorry. Now can you please get off of me?”
Shion jumped a little and quickly shuffled off of his Senpai, helping him sit up. They sat there in silence for a little while.
Haru barely heard it when Shion muttered something under his breath. He turned towards him.
Shion looked wrecked, his angel hair roughed out of its usual pristine sheet, his pretty brown eyes bloodshot and swollen. It stirred something in Haru, something slightly different from when he was strangling the man. A satisfaction in his ruining, although less dark and thick than before. It made him want to-
To what? Haru wasn’t sure. To see it again, maybe.
Shion looked at him carefully, his fingers twisting the hem of his cardigan. He spoke quietly, like Haru might spook otherwise.
“You asked me what I wanted. What I want is, could we be friends again? Senpai? Could we get lunch again, like we used to?”
That shook Haru. Shion just wanted to be friends? Why on Earth would he engineer this entire situation for such a stupid reason? Did he need an utter failure to make him feel better about himself that badly?
(Shion had asked him what would make him happy. He cared what would make Haru happy.
Why would he care if he was just trying to make himself feel better?)
“Senpai… I missed you.”
Haru never got second chances. Aoi left him desolate, his one and only opportunity for something more than survival shattered into a million fragments of what-if. If Shion wanted him back, even after Haru had cut him off so completely, even if it was just to prop himself up, well-
Then maybe he wasn’t entirely unsalvageable after all.
“...Okay.”