Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Music was something that Akito always enjoyed. Even before he started seriously making it, he always loved listening to genres of music that were considered popular.

He never had a certain goal in his life. He tried playing soccer, but his lack of motivation to rise above a natural ability stripped him from his chances at actually being something in it. His grades meant nothing in the grand scheme of this world— who cared about a percentage on his papers when he was the only person in the world with his unique name? There were a million things to share about his mind, and he knew that was the only thing he could devote himself to. His father had influenced him to try art, and while talent coursed through his veins like he needed it to live, art felt like he was being ripped away from everything that made him human. Nothing seemed to sway him, and everything felt like nothing.

Music was where everything changed for Akito. If only his heart could keep up.

|

When he had his first performance with Vivid BAD SQUAD, Akito felt that there was no point in trying anymore. Kohane, the newbie to music, proved to have a beginner’s talent far greater than his own. An, someone who had worked solo nearly her whole life, meshed so well with everybody else that she didn’t really need to push herself any harder. And Toya. Toya had started in a completely different realm to the music that Akito created, but his understanding of composition and sound made him bump up in so many leagues.

But Akito. Oh, no matter how hard he tried– no matter how hard he worked, he always knew he’d be nothing in the face of truly skilled human beings. His only friends— the people shackled down to himself, possessed talents incomparable to his own.

He knew it all for so long, and it was even more selfish to act as if he didn’t. It didn’t stop it from hurting any less. In every performance, he lost control of his actions and his body felt numb. He’d felt this before. Millions of times, drowned in the dark of his home, words flung at him faster than his brain could keep up with. The same mantra was repeated in his head over and over. This is my own doing.

His execution was utterly awful, especially for someone who had already caused so much anguish. He knew that his life was not his anymore because he already stripped everyone else’s chances of a happy one. Music was the only thing he lived for, because he had already taken so much from other people that the only thing he could stomach was something of his own creation. Creation was what tore them all apart. Akito Shinonome did not exist to create something good.

Everything in his life was dedicated to music. After the disaster he caused with them, he belonged to nothing but his passion (?) in music, for anything else was too selfish a pursuit. He didn’t maintain his last friendships and relationships, there wasn’t anything else about him that could define him as an actual person. Everything was just music. Over and over he would work until he could perfect it. Because he had nothing else left.

Even then, it was clear that he would never make the same impact on the world that his friends did.

But, he had nothing else, so he only ever told himself to try harder. To be better, to do better, because this was the only thing that he could do to make up for his mistakes. If he could become something, the world might forgive him. He might forgive himself.

He swore that he would sooner die than give up trying.

Akito never kept his promises.

|

The sudden popularity of Vivid BAD SQUAD on the internet was a complete blessing. 

When one of their earlier music videos blew up, the song was inescapable online, thousands of people raving on and on about the unique sound these mere fifteen year olds were able to produce. RAD DOGS, with expressions, and vocals completely unheard of, especially coming from random kids their age. The use of vocaloids was rising in popularity, but nobody sang alongside their vocaloids. New fans scoured their personal social medias and the group accounts, and began streaming every song. Their covers from other bands were held in high regard, their original songs even more admired, and some even said that these random fifteen-year-olds could hold their own against stars like ADO and Eve.

After years of independent work and months of team practices, overnight, they went from less than a thousand small fans to hundreds of thousands. Millions heard the music they poured their entire souls into– the music that was the result of sleepless nights and everything else being neglected (but it was okay because this was his purpose–), and the group couldn’t be happier. Finally, Toya’s father could see the worth in the art that he created. The affection that everybody showered Kohane with lifted her up and granted her what she needed to overcome any boundaries that prevented her from surpassing anybody else (Akito). An was proud and realised that they were all so close to receiving the same love that her father did years ago.

Akito wanted to be happy about it. He really, truly did. He swore to himself that he would ages ago when he started all of this. He made a promise to his soul that he would be happy about it. Even though they hadn’t yet surpassed RAD WEEKEND, everything was working out and he knew that his dreams were closer to coming true and everything he had given up to work towards them would be worth it. He pulled himself through the darkest moments of his life so that he could succeed. So he could be something.

But when he saw the numbers and notifications coming from his social media accounts, and when he read the comments speaking about himself compared to his bandmates, his heart emptied and something heavy settled into him.

CINEMA - VBS MV
22,387,364 views ━▼ comments (3,447)

popipo: this song is so good,, i lowkey wish toya had more lines since akito got most of them. toya’s smoother voice would probably sound better lmfao
♡︎ (1.4K)

rinlenranlin: ijbol akito’s dancing is so funny i thought he’d fall over
♡︎ (2.6k)

Aiondori: Did Akito seriously prepare for this?? even his past performances were better lol he just gets worse
♡︎ (3)

Anonymous: akito does a pretty good job working on the background track and rhythm, but his vocals and dancing are kinda lacking… imo he should stick to the background stuff
♡︎ (4.2k)

There were other comments, too, praising his friends' performances, and occasionally of his own, but the number of slight jabs sent in his direction outweighed anything said in defence of him. This was his song, the song he devoted everything he had left to. So why, why did things have to turn out like this?

After everything, he knew why.

There's nothing left for you here.

Breathe to exist.

Run rampant beneath his skin.

Above the bone.

Live to die.

He was pathetic.

|

Akito could tell it was happening again. He should be dead, now.

The aching, his heart bleeding over nothing. The weight pulling down every moment he lived through. He couldn’t look people in the eyes, couldn’t breathe without shuddering at the thought of other people simply perceiving him. He slept for hours past his ringing alarms, but no bodily functions returned to him. His eyes drooped at even the dimmest of lights. His ears never processed noises produced by other people because how was anybody else even there?

He knew that no matter how much he tried, he could never run from it forever. He’d told himself it thousands of times before; this was what he owed the world after all the damage he caused. Like a song that would never reach its end.

He looked at his clock– it was almost five am. His mindlessly completed homework for the day lay flat on his crowded desk, discarded and crumpled notes and letters taking up the vast majority of space. The basic need to rest called out to him, but there was still so much to do . The background track he had to get done that week, that English essay that he knew how to write perfectly but just couldn't bring himself to do. The chemistry lab he had to finish and the history project that he was working on with a classmate. (who, after sharing nearly a decade of classes, couldn't bother to remember Akito’s name so Akito decided to pretend not to remember his either.) Summer break ended about a week and a half ago and he spent his time during it either rotting in his room or practising until he couldn’t stand anymore. School felt like a waste of time in the grand scheme of things.

It was his mother’s birthday this Saturday, and he knew Ena and their dad wouldn’t do anything for her, so everything fell on him. He had to get a cake, he had to get gifts, he had to do something for his mother after everything he had done to her. He had to show that he was still sorry, even if it was apparent they’d already forgotten him long enough to stop caring. Because it was never their fault and He was still Sorry. He just didn’t know how to tell them. But, either way, he was sure that no matter what he said, they would still never forgive him. He wouldn’t either.

It’s been years. He didn’t want to hurt them anymore. 

“Is any of this even real?” His words bled into the dark of his room, as if anybody would call out in response. Silence rang through the room, the darkness and vacancy of it something he grew used to over the years.

His body felt heavy on the bed. His index finger traced the blanket blowing lightly in his desk fan’s path. A violent haze of words lingered in his brain like a stupid child reaching towards faux poetic words to explain this feeling.

This feeling. What words could even describe it? He didn’t think he’d ever have an answer to that.

His throat constricted, the wire wrapping around him tightly and binding his breaths from escaping. Warmth trickled up his throat and his eyes tightened. If only he wasn’t this way. Day after day, wasting away, alone in his room, thinking of synonyms to This feeling as if these lyrics of life would ever mean anything more.

The fan was turned to its lowest power and sweat beaded on the side of his body that wasn’t hit by air. The rolled up sleeves of his hoodie had pressed down on his skin for hours, holding sweat underneath its cloth and making red indents that were unseen against the violent marks on his arms. His fingers moved against his arms to pull the sleeves back down and relieve the itch from the band, but his fingers were caught on a rough mark from a new incision he left.

Like a depraved beggar on the streets, he began feeling for more. More feeling, more pain, and he pressed his hands down around the scabs. His fingernails traced and picked at the marks, the sweat blending into the pus licking the peeled scabs.

He dragged his hands all over his body. His horrifically scarred arms and legs, thin torso, and dry face. He searched for some semblance of proof that showed he was still human. Still alive. He touched his nose, ran his hands over his crusted lips, felt the lines and piercings in his ears, and pried open his eyes. His nails dragged across skin. They weren’t sharp enough to break it, but he craved the feeling like a pathetic boy. The pain. His nails couldn’t bring it, but he knew things that could help him feel, again, his eyes trailed to the glass bottle in the corner of his room.

A few times when he went alone to Vivid Street, there’d been some older drunks who called him over to talk. They shared a few drinks with him but the most recent one tasted foul so he left it strewn around his room. He was the only soul who ever entered his room, so it was okay to leave it out for the stars to see his sins.

If he drank all of its contents, smashed the bottle and cut deep enough to soothe the ache in his bones, he could feel it again. Sweat poured down his face. It was sticky and unpleasant. He could at least feel that. But, he wanted it to go away. For it to stop. This was it. This. It. It. It. It – it was broken in his head, now, now, repeat repeat repeat it it it this was it he ran his fingers over the bends again and again and again. It.

Do. It?

I need this.

The pace of his breath increased. Harsh huffs went in and out. In. Out. repeat. He turned on his fan and tore off his two hoodies. He felt warmth trickle down his face, it would never leave. His breaths became faster. His stomach was lurching and he felt sick– he was sick, sick in the head sick in body sick in humanity but he did not Have, that humanity, he said– repeat At least he felt. Two new things. Three whole sensations.

He blinked, but the sweat, the tears, and his breath wouldn’t stop. Three.

His hands moved and wrapped around his joints, his bends, his twists, the parts that opened and folded, between his fingers and toes, and he felt every wrinkle or mark that’s ever been left on him. His fingers traced his now uncovered forearms. They were rough. Four. Somebody tell him why were they rough? there was nobody left, He wanted them to be rougher. He was sweating and crying but his arms were dry. Maybe he could change that. He wanted a fifth.

He wobbled towards the bottle in the corner of his room. Why was there a bottle in the corner of his room he didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t know anything anymore there was nobody left to tell him– His fingers twisted the cap off of the thick glass lip and Poured out All the contents of the bottle in the corner of his room. The taste of pure alcohol ripped through his mouth and throat, like fire fire fire, the liquid was clear like glass, clear like the glass of the bottle. He didn’t count the seconds he drank it, but he downed it like fire; Five.

He sat on the floor, dodging the clothes donning it, feet kicking at the waistlines of pants that were too loose for him to continue wearing, the bottle was heavy in his hand, He sat up against the couch at the foot of his bed. The stars looked down on him. The bottle was heavy in his hand. The sluggishness of his body made him teeter like a rickety thing, exhaustion and weight wearing on him, the stars bore down on him.

Would it ever change?

I wish I were dead.

The stars let go of his hand.

He threw the bottle against the floor, glass shattering like fragments of the world. A different view, a different look, but no perspective would make Akito be seen any differently. The impact was loud, but Ena was always distracted she hated hated hated him, the evil seeped into her (he was sorry) and his father was asleep in the cold dark room next to the kitchen where they all used to cook and sing and laugh and his mother was never home she left to escape escape escape him because he would not carry it Ever, nobody would intervene if they heard their God come to take him away.

He scanned the debris. The pieces were large and in a configuration easy enough to sweep later. He picked them up with his clammy and shaking hands. The stars would never return,

The moonlight from the small, rectangular window on his walls illuminated and reflected the pieces on the ground. The bright light coming from out underneath his door crack was jarring. He looked down. He grabbed a medium-sized chunk of glass. He was ambidextrous. Which arm would be used, which arm would be martyrized? would there ever be a difference, Both were evenly scarred, but if he were to shred one more than the other, it would be uneven. He didn’t like uneven things, some things would never change,

His fingers felt around the piece of glass in the same way he felt his limbs. Like he had in the countless times he had carved his skin before, as the stars watched. My sister, my apologies. The sharpest point was one that jutted out like a shark fin. When would it come for him? His fingers traced again; the glass curved and the sharp point was thinner than the rest of the glass. He selected his right arm first. Gripping the glass in his left hand and eyeing for a scarce clean patch of his already marked skin, he sighed. He looked up to the ceiling, the light green glow against the popcorn grain. Five points, it stretched. The stars looked down on him.

Let me forget.

The first slice wasn’t deep. It barely broke skin and barely felt like anything, the red and irritated line begging for more. It didn’t bleed unless he prodded and squeezed it, squeezing out whatever essence of his life that he could, but it itched more than it hurt– like a scratch from a tree branch with fleeting pain, pain running away from him like they all did, leaving leaving leaving and he would dig dig dig deeper and deeper into his skin to find out where they went, where they went, where he went–

His hands shook. Let it go. He tugged too deep and felt a sear. He could feel the tear on his arm like soft felt being cut through with a knife; a rip, ripping ripping his skin off with a blade he felt hot, The pain was intense but left a throb, so he dragged out the cut longer from one edge of his inner wrist to the other. This one bled more, more, more, but it was closer to his inner elbows and didn’t create a big enough mess.

He needed his skin to be ruined.

Inhale.

His fingers hurt after gripping the shard so tightly for so long. More and more slashes with far apart depths appeared on his arms, his bringers of kind, but he forgot how they appeared there. His eyes drifted, his thoughts moved, each time a new line, a thought spoke in his head– his room, his room, his kind, his home, these walls these foundations these people people people they didn’t know and he was sorry, He didn’t know if this had been going on for seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, decades, centuries, millennia, It was hard to tell. What was he thinking of? Where was he? Could he go now?

Oh, but he was bleeding.

He needed it to bleed more.

And more.

And more.

…And more.

This was it.

Exhale.

Five.

|

“Akito! Wake up already, I wanna go to bed!” His head lifted to the sharp pounds of his door and his older sister’s shrill voice. The window again lit up his room, but instead of just the floor, it was his whole bedroom. His neck hurt, his head pounded, but the blood on his wrists cracked into deeper pain. He rubbed his neck and looked in all directions to ease the pain. His eyes stopped on the small stars and moons stuck to his ceiling. He must have fallen asleep watching them, pretending they could move and pretending as if they were bright stars in the sky watching over him. They were glow-in-the-dark, and quite old too. When he and Ena were younger, they begged their parents to put them on the ceilings so that they could ‘star-gaze’ together. He frowned and wondered if Ena still had them on her own.

She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t want to feel connected to Akito.

“Akito?!” Ena called again, although it was from a farther away room this time. “Fuck, yeah, I’m up! I’ll be ready in a second.” Akito’s voice cracked at first, and his voice felt like it was lifting into a ridiculous and out-of-character smile. His face, arms, and hands felt sticky. His head felt like it was screaming and begging for release, but he also felt unnaturally giddy. It was stupid. “You sound insane, are you good in there?” Her voice became closer and by the end of her sentence, the door handle rattled with her grip on it, ready to open it in the next second.

You can’t see me like this. “Wait! No, no, everything’s okay. Don’t come in. I-I’m changing.” He pulled a hoodie from his floor to cover his arms in case she came in, but the mildewy smell from it being curled up was enough for him to gag to keep it off. “Jesus, are you high…? Whatever– Be out by seven-thirty and actually go to school today, please. Dad keeps pinning your truancies and tardies on me. So, go.” Her voice became quieter as she stalked off to her own room, closing her door with a click, trying to get away from him as soon as possible. I’m sorry, Ena.

Akito sighed and looked down at his arms, the cracks the same as hee had always known them. He felt lighter, which was most likely the alcohol, but four out of five of the things he felt last night had vanished. He was cold, he wasn’t crying, and his stomach was more stable, but he felt sticky and tired and like nothing despite the copious amounts of adrenaline and serotonin that his brain had pumped last night. The alcohol being the only thing powering what he felt and what his brain thought, given the lack of energy he needed to function. There was a hollow cavity within his chest, like all of his cherry red organs had been stolen from inside his body and there was nothing left but the blood pumping through him.

But he supposed he always felt that way.

Out of morbid curiosity, he poked and scratched at the new marks on his arms. There were tiny and dried blobs of smeared blood on the floor where he sat, but the blood on his arms was completely dry– cracked and powdery, even. Gummed and small blood spots were stuck to each cut he left that night, and when he tried to unsuccessfully peel them he only felt pain.

A metallic scent rang throughout his room, and he noticed the dark red seeping into everything around him. He didn’t know if he even had a goal last night. He just wanted to numb everything and have his blood drip down his body like he was a victim of a violent crime. He’s glad Ena hadn’t walked in. There wasn’t any way he could’ve hidden his disgusting body.

Akito attempted to stand up, and he was hit with a wave of overwhelming dizziness that left him back on the floor. Maybe it was vertigo, maybe it was dehydration, or maybe it was the fact that he was probably still as drunk as a grotesque psycho in the streets, but he needed to get up. He craned his neck to the right and over the corner of his bed, angling to stare at the digital clock on his desk.

6:03, it read, in bright red numbers. Forget two hours, it had barely been one. He leaned back and sucked in a big breath. He needed to get up, or else he’d be sitting there forever. His limbs were too heavy to move, but Ena needed him to leave. Akito pushed himself up and held onto the bed frame once he was standing. The exertion caused old blood to drip out of the deeper wounds and glide down his forearms. He sighed as the blood trickled down his limbs like a slow-moving sap trying to reach his hands to be held and smeared and inspected like data from a lab.

His shirt and pants had blood spots wiped all over them, but they weren’t severe enough to stain if he washed them soon. He was sure that his parents weren’t home and his sister had already locked herself in her room. He steadied himself before walking towards his door, trying to ignore the thoughts gnawing at his brain to just lay on the floor forever. The room seemed to spin and pain flickered in his body when he moved. He twisted the knob, and somehow made it to the bathroom without laying like a corpse and staring at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Akito composed himself well enough to only slightly stumble on his steps, even with the world twirling and lights glowing too bright. He looked in the mirror and almost wished he hadn’t.

Dried blood stuck to the creases in his face; he must’ve touched it in his sleep or when he was out of it. He’d traced his fingers over himself many times before, it was like a habit now. His eyes looked stupid. There were large eye bags from a lack of sleep over the past few months of summer vacation, and there was so much dark underneath and in his eyes that it looked as if he was in a fight. Pummelled and bruised, eyes gaunt upon skin that was pulled taut against his bones. His face was furrowed into a look of disgust. He looked like an asshole. He looked like a kid.

His body felt heavy. He stood in front of the mirror for longer than he should have.

He was taller than average, but still short enough to feel small in the bathroom his father designed. An artist born to create, to contrast, to detail, and Akito would never take after him.

He started to pick at the dried blood on his arms, feeling the uncomfortable sting and bumps that always came when cutting with glass. Glass never went deep enough to soothe when he was sober. Fresh blood came out whenever he picked at an especially hard-to-peel spot of blood, or when he even slightly squeezed either arm. The pain and blood proved to be a struggle, but the blood eventually began to clot entirely and it was easier to clean up whilst preparing for a shower.

Akito detested cold showers, but when the water from a warm shower flowed into open wounds, it always hurt more than the act itself. He hadn’t really cut deep that night, not like he had before, but the cold water would soothe the open wounds littered across his limbs. He didn’t want to feel pain right now when everything was numb– he only wanted to lay on the same ground as he had in the night. But, he had to show up for the day; he already missed two days of school since coming back from break a week or two ago.

Ena said that their dad had been blaming her for his mistakes, and not himself. He hadn’t spoken to him in weeks and he hadn’t cared about it in years.

What has changed now? no, there would never be a change. he could try, he could beg on his knees in front of them, but it would make no difference.

Akito wondered. Would they ever figure it out?

Would it ever be important enough to pay it any mind?

His arms started to itch. He didn’t want them to hurt, but wasn’t it something he deserved? Wasn’t he the one to cause this all? He wanted somebody to take this body away from him. This soul, because what else would there ever be for him? He was sorry, he told them before but they wouldn’t believe him. I’m sorry guys, I’m sorry Mom, I’m sorry Ena, I’m sorry Dad, I’m sorry Toya, I said it before, I promise this time, because to you it is the world.

He twisted the shower knob to the highest heat.

|

Akito watched every action he made in the mirror as he dressed. Each movement and function of his body like he was a machine programmed to do mundane tasks. Every slight contact to his sleeves burned from the raw and sensitive flesh being overwhelmed with touch.

His skin was red from the near-boiling water, the aggressive scrubbing from that feeling of bugs underneath his skin that were itching to be clawed out.

Akito wondered if it was possible to scoop the flesh out of his body with his bare hands. Watch the blood pour out of his skin and tear open his body with the canines in his mouth and the overgrown fingernails on his hands. Have everything melt off of his bones and feel it break and snap and open. He’d love the pain from it too. Pain enveloping his entire body and wrapping tightly around his torso and each arm and leg. His whole body burning and exploding with a pain that stung and stuck with him for the rest of his life.

Remove his skin and leave him with nothing but muscle and blood and cells and organs and bone. Have everything be an open, gaping wound, that would never be staunched or closed. Feel his blood trace and stick to every surface in the world like a white cloth stained with dirt. He could grope his very own expanding and shrivelling lungs and his beating heart from their places inside his ribcage. Feel the twists of his nerves and arteries, feel them branching off like the leaves of a tree.

They would be happy to see the sight. He would be even happier.

He grabbed some wet and dry black rags, and re-entered his room. He stared at the blood caked into the floor like a scientist staring at a mesmerising experiment.

He looked at the dead and dark blood and he wanted to keep the memory burned into his skull forever. If he could just take a picture to hang the gruesome scene on all of his walls. Print it hundreds of times and plaster it to his ceilings so he would wake up to the image. He knew he could do better, he knew he could make a bigger mess of the room he’d spent his whole life in, he knew there was more blood in his body willing to be let out and freed and exposed to oxygen. He knew where the sharpest blades in his room were hidden, where he could so easily drag them so deep across his body that his skin would split open and he would bleed forever.

But he had to go to school.

Akito got onto his knees and began to scrub. His fingernails scraped the floorboards and in-between the cracks of it. The water from the wet rags mixed with the blood and the room smelled like iron again.

He wanted to smear the blood all over his body and feel the thin layer dry onto his cracked and dry skin. The blood would replenish like a hydrating moisturiser, and he could lay in it for his whole life.

But he had to go to school.

He saw on the clock that it was six forty-five when he was done cleaning. His stomach was begging for sustenance, but he didn’t want to shove anything down his throat in a rush, and he was too tired to cook something hard. He had to pull himself together. He had to continue functioning in society. He had to. For the sake of his own self. If he wanted to feel dizzying pain in the future to feel good and happy, he had to deserve it first.

The pain from slicing himself open was a privilege. He couldn’t take it for granted. It was everything to him, but he couldn’t get overzealous and greedy about it.

It was a challenge to walk downstairs without falling flat on his face, but his skin was pale, head heavy, and he knew he needed some nutrients to prevent himself from passing out on his walk to school. He bent down slightly to look at the contents of the fridge. A bunch of random things with some cheese, tofu, meats, vegetables, and random fruit desserts that either Ena or his mother had bought from a convenience store. He didn’t know what meal he could make with such a sparse amount of ingredients, but it would taste bland in his mouth anyways.

How much time did he have? He moved to his pocket to grab and open his phone— it wasn’t in there. He had to go back up the stairs to get the hopefully still alive phone to take it for school. He left his backpack by the door like he always did, so he could just grab it on his way out.

It was probably around six-fifty, so he opted to make something that his whole household would eat if they got home or woke up by then. 

His arms hurt, but he lifted them up to reach the cabinets. He could try to make a simple mapo tofu, since their rice cooker was still full from breakfast he made them the previous day. Nobody but himself ate the food that took him an hour to cook, and nobody put it away while he was gone so the food was left inedible after staying out all day. It had no value. Ena would wake up late and she always preferred salty foods after sleep, so she could have that. Their father likely left while he was in the shower, and he’d return later in the night around seven or eight o’clock. Their mother would come whenever she wanted. She was hardly ever home.

Akito lazily chopped veggies, not caring if the dull and old blade accidentally hit a knuckle or two of his. He set the ground pork and boxed flavouring to start cooking, and tried to go up the stairs. One foot at a time, he climbed and held onto the rail like it was his lifeline. He nearly tripped and fell backwards multiple times, and his heart was racing when he got to the top. He made it to his room in search of his phone, and he’d luckily fallen asleep with it charging the whole night. At least his phone wasn’t dead.

But, when one thing works out, the others cannot, so Akito swore that every god out there was against him because when he checked the time, it was seven-fifteen. He wouldn’t be able to finish cooking the food and eat himself. Nobody else cleaned the house, and he didn’t want his family to return home to a disgusting haze that he should have cleaned up.

He ran back downstairs faster than he thought he could in this condition, his head aching and whole body dizzy. He was sure he looked stupid and was about to fall over at every step he took. It was still hard to see with dancing spots in the corner of his eyes that were already altered by the (what he assumed to be) vodka.

The smell of soy and salt filled his senses, and he went to stir the mixture in the wok. The warmth from the food was incredibly dizzying and he immediately grabbed a hold of the counters to steady himself. Akito’s breath was weirdly heavy and soft pants came from him. His mouth was unbearably dry, the steam made it hard to see. He felt like nothing, but it was so normal at this point to feel like that. He floated in the steam like it was transporting him to another world. It all felt warm and exhausting, like he was being squeezed and suffocated.

Hands fumbled to feel something– anything. The fingers that were tightly gripping the granite a second ago were now reaching towards the heat. He blinked and something rolled down his face, stemming from his eyes. What is that? His fingers grabbed the hot wok and he swore.

The pain grounded him, but it also hurt like hell when he had to scamper to the sink and cool his fingers that were now bright red.

God, what was wrong with him? “Can’t even cook a fucking meal…” Akito drowned out and his fingers began to grow numb to the rush of cool water running over his hands. The burn on his fingers now grew into a small white callous. It hurt, but it was pleasing in a masochistic way. 

He filled a glass from an open cupboard with lukewarm sink water, the way he preferred, and rummaged through the fridge for something to quickly scarf down. Out of all the easily edible food, there was… milk, cheese, egg whites, a cheesecake with Ena’s name written on it, a wrinkly apple, and more of the tofu that had probably been in there for months.

He grabbed the leftover tofu box and searched for an expiration date. It was only around a week ago. That wasn’t too bad. The tofu he was currently cooking was probably also expired. But, whatever. They’ll live. It would just be nice if he wasn’t stupid enough to cook expired food for the people he loved.

It was hard to breathe. He wanted everything to shut up.

He found it difficult to tear open the pack of tofu, so he opted to grab the knife laying on the cutting board from the food he chopped up earlier. The knife in his hands began to shake like a leaf in the wind. His hands were warm and a random cry clawed itself out of his throat at the same time as he felt liquid fall from his eyes. The knife clattered to the floor, and Akito joined it as he pressed the backs of his shaking wet hands to his eyes, feeling his knees collapse.

He was tired. Why did he always feel like crying?

His breath was shaking and fluctuating like a boat rocking on dangerous waves, and he felt like throwing up the warm water he downed. From the floor, he weakly held the tofu packet over the sink and drained the water from it. He scooped out a bit of tofu big enough to qualify as a bite and started eating to prevent himself from regurgitating whatever he had consumed within the past day. It tasted like nothing. Tofu usually did taste fairly bland, but it was as if Akito was immune to tasting anything. There wasn’t a single thing in this white blob that he could taste. He looked to his left; the knife was on the floor. There was a translucent white liquid on there.

He wondered if he could make the liquid red.

He blinked. He looked forward. The tall fridge in front of him felt like a looming entity, the white walls were empty and blank, and nothing seemed to have any substance to it. You’re such a piece of shit.

He heard nothing but slight steam and a sizzle for a few minutes as he lazily ate until he heard the front door unlock. A shadow reminiscent of his mother’s height wobbled past the door frame and was casted onto the fridge from the light of the front windows, and Akito could hear them throw keys and a bag onto the table next to the door.

“Aki’o?” A voice yawned. Oh. It was his mother. She was home so soon. “You cooking something? Unless it’s Ena, but God knows that child could never be awake so early.” Her words sounded sloppy like his own. He didn’t get up to look at her from his place behind the counter, but he could imagine that her makeup was smeared and her hair was a mess. It usually was when she came home. For once, he didn’t want her to be home. He didn’t want to be around anyone. He didn’t want anyone to see him as a living and breathing human. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to interact, he didn’t want to breathe around someone else.

There was no god out there that listened to his pathetic and silent pleas.

“Where are youuuu? Are ya even down ‘ere?” He couldn’t get up even if he forced himself to. Nor could he raise his voice to speak.

“Think the food’s ready… I’m comin’ over there…” She hiccuped.

He could hear her staggered footsteps. He was like her too. He wondered if she would be disappointed if she knew his current condition. Maybe she would reprimand him; yell at him.

But Akito knew she wouldn’t. She didn’t care about him like that anymore. Not like how he cares for her.

“Hey… why’re you on the floor?” She flexed her index finger and pointed at him, in nothing more than curiosity. Not concern. never concern– He was right; she looked like a mess. She probably spent the night again with her good friends, like she’d been doing since he started junior high. Mom. We’re all so different now. He didn’t see the flicker in her eyes, the way her body shifted. He didn’t see it, and he thinks things would’ve turned out differently if he had.

“The food will be ready by the time I’m gone,” Akito said. His words didn’t sound as bad as hers, but they still were slow and sluggish as if he didn’t care. Not like she would notice.

He didn’t notice the pause in her movements, as if she saw his soul. “I needa shower. Thank you, sweetie.”

And then she left.

Akito was alone again.

|

The walk to school felt like nothing. Like his body was moving in the preprogrammed order he was told to do for years. He turned the same exact corners as he had hundreds of times before, he walked down the same alleys and past the same poles and he saw the same students catching up with their friends and complaining about having to wake up early. He left soon after the food had finished cooking and he set it neatly aside with a letter for whoever wanted to eat it later. (as if anyone would want something from him.)

Toya hadn’t caught up to him like he usually did during their walks, which meant that his dad was taking him to school. Akito could probably confirm that if he checked his currently buzzing phone, but all of his focus was on not collapsing and making sure he could actually get to school and not walk into the streets with his confused mind.

Maybe he could check later. When he had more energy.

If the day Ever,
Came.

His legs and arms felt heavy, and he felt even more light-headed, but the walk couldn’t have been any more than twenty-five minutes. It was fine. Fine. Everything would always be fine. Everything was everything and Akito was Akito– was he? it was fine he wouldn’t let himself sway and he could keep living he told himself he would–

He arrived ten to fifteen minutes earlier than he usually did, which was already early, and he couldn’t tell without looking at his phone, but he didn’t see the usual amount of students that he did whenever he arrived on time.

None of his friends had gotten here yet, (but at this point, he only really had Toya. An was kind, but he didn’t want to drag her deeper into his mess in the way he had with Toya.) but he saw Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro sitting at the front of the school, with their hands tinkering with some probably explosive object.

Akito wanted to run away from it all, but Kamishiro locked silent yet intrigued eyes with him. Yellow eyes widened like the stage actor had seen a ghost. Akito had a strong urge to actually run away, but when Kamishiro began walking towards him, he knew he had to stay to convince the other that there was still life in him. That he could be left alone until the end of time.

“Good morning, Shinonome-kun! I wonder, is everything alright?” His put-together words made Akito worry. Would his words come out in complete sentences? Would they sound like he was under the influence? Would they be raspy from lack of speech, or light like a feather? Could he pass himself off as completely normal? There was no greater shame than having another pry into his petulance and grievances.

“E-everything’s okay. Is there something wrong?” He pitched up his voice, fighting against the urge to just stay silent because it was easier and he was tired, and he could fall to the floor and lay there Forever, He just had to focus on not falling to the ground at any moment. Akito must have taken a longer pause between his senior’s words and his own because Kamishiro’s eyes thinned out and his smile turned into a slight frown.

“Nothing special, but you look to be a bit tired. I hope you got enough sleep last night?” He frowned again as if he knew something that Akito didn’t. Every time he interacted with Kamishiro, he felt that same unease as if he knew every secret Akito hid underneath his sleeves. Everything underneath his sleeves, underneath his skin, and underneath his heart.

The breeze became stronger and the wind blew past the two of them. A cloud passed over the sun and the area became dimmer. Akito swallowed. Just get out of here. Hide your face for the day.

“I slept well last night. My mother came home earlier than usual so I had to wake up sooner… Ah, Thanks for the concern, but I have to get to class. I gotta talk to a teacher about something,” the younger of the two stated as if such a weak and horrible excuse would work. It was stupid. He was stupid. Waking up early does not warrant someone to look like how he did. Waking up early was something normal people did, and Akito could not convincingly lie about such a thing. Akito nervously prodded at his wrists that were covered by the school uniform that he was forced to wear by regulation. He was lucky there was reason to his concealment. He couldn’t have anyone worry about a person like himself. 

Just go already. It looked as if Kamishiro was about to say something in response, but there was an emotion on his face that Akito couldn’t decipher that prevented him from speaking out. Kamishiro nodded as he bid farewell and walked back to Tsukasa, whose yelling could still be heard twenty metres away.

A few crystal clear lies (that even a child could tell were fabricated,) were all it took for him to be left alone again.

He wondered if anyone would ever stop him.

|

Akito saw Toya settling in during lunch, taking the seat right next to his best friend. Akito’s face was resting against his flat arms on the tables, and his eyes opened at the movement the bench made. Toya’s grey eyes lifted up into a soft smile at the sight of his sleeping partner. Akito wished that all of the coldness in his body dissipated, like it usually did when he was around Toya. But maybe it was just one of those days where nothing could eradicate the desperation for it all to stop. Toya's hair was the same evenly parted cut of purplish-blue tones, and he had the same mole underneath his left eye that Akito wanted to trace with his fingers and admire like it was the north star in the sky. It guided him back to his home. Akito swore he could live in Toya’s eyes and live happily like that forever.

Toya’s eyes focused on Akito’s sullen gaze, and Akito noticed the smile fade from the other’s face– he saw how it turned into a small frown.

He hated everything in his existence for making the person who was his everything sad. Akito loved Toya, and that would never change. He just wished it was enough to live for.

It was, it should’ve been, but he knew nothing would be enough because too much had already been ruined. Akito had done too much, he had ruined too much, and it was too hard to continue onwards. Nothing could fix it. Not even Toya.

He wanted it to be fixed. He wanted to live. He wanted to live. He wanted to live. But that was too selfish to admit.

“Rough day?” Toya started. He asked this every day, so much to the point that his words became lost in their meaning. He knew how Akito was, that he couldn’t live like a normal human, but it was hard to approach it in any other way. But each time Akito answered truthfully. He couldn’t lie to Toya. He nodded slightly, his voice too weak to bring up above a slight whisper, and with the cafeteria noises, his voice would remain unheard unless his mouth was pressed up against his ear.

“Well, I brought your favourite. They aren’t as good as the ones Ken makes, but school pancakes are better than none at all. If you don’t want them right now, I can save them for you.” Toya’s voice was gentle, not in the way a teacher would talk to a child, but in the way that made Akito feel so full of love that it disgusted him. Toya was good to him. Too good.

Akito knew that he hardly deserved it. After everything, was this the right path to walk? Should he even be pushing them away? But, he knew better.

"Thank you,” he tried, but nothing seemed to be audible. He was about to try again, louder, but Toya cut him off.

“You’ve done so much for me, this is the least I could do.” Strong arms wrapped around Akito, and his breath caught in his throat.

Leave it to Toya to hear anything Akito has ever said.

Akito knew he was loved. Loved by many. He was loved, but he knew it never went beyond the surface. He was loved, but he knew that if they knew how he truly was, that love would be gone in an instant. He was loved, but he knew that love was truthfully obligatory. It was just hard to care about it when everything hurt too much. He was constantly given more love than he deserved. Toya was wrong, Akito never did anything good for them. He didn’t deserve anything – he only hurt and took from everyone else.

Similar words must have slipped from his cracked lips because a hand wrapped around his own and Toya’s head shook in disagreement before he buried his head in the back of Akito’s neck; the ginger’s head still remained in his arms. Pure pain shot throughout his body– his arms, his aching bones, his pounding skull. He felt like he could decompose and just die at any second and he wouldn’t even resist. It’s like every day he became less and less stubborn; less and less like himself.

Everything hurt. Sometimes he just wanted to stop feeling. Breathing. Wouldn’t it all be nicer that way?

In Toya’s embrace, he felt water well up in his eyes like a baby crying in his caretaker’s arms. In Toya’s embrace, he felt warmer because of the love between them, but he knew that love only extended as far as his hand could throw. Any farther and the tie would sever because Akito was not someone who could keep meaningful bonds together. He was not someone who could maintain that connection the second the other person pulled away.

It was so unfair to Toya. Toya deserved a better partner than him. A better partner than someone who would ghost him if he didn’t devote every second of his energy to him. Akito was selfish.

“I’m sorry, Toya. I’m so sorry for being like this.” I’m sorry for loving you. You always seem to be next to me but I don’t think I’m ever present for you. “You haven’t done anything to apologise for. It’s okay, I’m here. I’ll always be here,” Toya’s smooth voice rang in his ears. He felt delicate hands run through his slightly wet hair, and Akito could feel the warmth radiating off of his gentle hold. It was… sweet. It was everything Akito shouldn’t be given, but he couldn’t help but lean into. His eyes watered more at the embrace of Toya, his beautiful partner.

Toya laughed, eyes lighting up in a way that always made Akito’s heart dance, “Did you shower this morning? Your hair never dries fast, does it?” Akito pulled away from Toya and rubbed his shivering eyes dry to stare into Toya’s own.

He was beyond lucky that Toya was his best friend. It felt like they knew each other like two souls who spent millenia apart, searching for the other until they finally reconnected. At least, Akito wished it did. He knew that wasn’t true. He wasn’t a desirable person.

Toya was everything.

“Akito, what do you want to do once we surpass RAD Weekend?” Toya asked after the two of them were laughing and doing karaoke of stupid songs, one hand on their mics and the other tied up with their partner’s hand. “I know that we’ll do it soon– you can do anything you set your mind to.” And Toya’s voice and face was beyond optimistic when he looked into Akito’s eyes. And Akito’s face fell, the mood between the two fourteen year olds dropping, because How was he supposed to answer? He didn’t know what he’d do after RAD Weekend. He was just supposed to die,

His one purpose was to make a good change. There was no other reason to live once he did it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it. I’m just living through whatever happens, I guess. There’s no reason to think about the future stuff when I’m already like this.” And Akito stared back at Toya as he looked back into his eyes. The next song began, and Akito took the first line. His voice cracked on the second, trying to keep his voice stable, and he winced when Toya caught his eye. Akito looked at him, eyes flickering between the lyrics on the screen and back at Toya’s face.

Toya was deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed in worry for his best friend and partner.

I’m so sorry.

|

That was bad. He held a fist clenched against his mouth, the applause for the next group performing echoing louder and louder as their starting volume increased. Sweat still poured down his face, his other hand against his left eye as he stared down into the corner of backstage. How can I still be so horrible after all this time? I can’t keep living like this. “Hey, Akito. Are you okay?” Toya pulled him back from his shoulder, fingers gently prying the tight hands from Akito’s face.

Akito looked up at him, and Toya’s mouth dropped ever so slightly when he saw how his eyes shimmered with liquid that glowed in the stage lights. The squeezing of Akito’s eyes, fingers, throat, and quivering of his lips was all Toya needed to see before he leaned down slightly to pull his partner closer to him. “I’m sorry for being so horrible, Toya–” Akito cried into his partner’s and best friend’s arms. “How can you say that? You were incredible tonight, Akito,” Toya whispered into his ears, mouth pressed close against him to remain audible against the blasting music.

“I messed up so fucking much. God, I’m so stupid for thinking this would work,” he cracked, crumbling against Toya because his dreams would never come true like this. None of this would ever mean anything. He was going to die without making the world better. Without making up for his mistakes.

Toya gripped his shoulders tight and pulled away from their embrace. He smeared his thumb on Akito’s face, his tears absorbing into Toya’s skin. Akito shivered.

“'I've never met somebody as dedicated as you are. I… my heart is fuller when I’m around you. It’s like you flip this switch that inspires me to be better. So, even if you make a million mistakes, I know that you can make this work. You’re Akito Shinonome. You’re my partner.”

But is that enough?

“I’d go crazy without you,” Akito whispered to him, eyes down in his lap where his hands were fidgeting. He could barely hear himself over the loud sounds in the cafeteria and encroaching shadows in his eyes. Like a vignette was placed haphazardly over his sight. Their faces were close to each other and Akito could feel his warmth in the cold and echoing room. Toya grabbed his left hand with his right and their bodies were turned into each other. It was comfortable– familiar. Akito needed more of it. (but was it something he deserved? the answer was clear,)

“You’ve helped me in more ways imaginable, it’s my turn to do the same for you.” Toya’s voice was like a god-send capable of clearing every thought out of his muddled head. The grey eyes Akito was staring into (he swore they were beautiful,) looked down before meeting Akito’s own again. “But, Akito...” Toya paused, eyes squinting in a pain that Akito didn’t understand. “I need you to promise to come to me whenever you need something. Someone to talk to, or if you need reassurance. Whatever it is, I’m here. I’ve always been here. You’ve been struggling recently and I don’t want it to get bad for you.”

You wouldn’t get it. I can’t do that to you too.

Akito loved Toya, and he knew Toya did too, but it wasn’t enough. Akito was loved, but that love still felt hollow. He couldn’t tell if it even meant anything. “Toya… you know that I can’t promise that. I can’t keep my promises to anyone. Never really have.”

Toya’s face looked pained, and his body seemed to recoil. He knew this would happen, so why did he look so hurt ? It didn’t really mean much. Akito would continue on like always, and Toya would eventually be freed of him. It was reaching that point, anyways.

Akito didn’t know how much he had left to live for.

“Akito… I don’t ask much. Please, if anything, do it for me? I want you to be happy, Akito.”

Liar. None of it mattered.

So Akito lied back.

“Okay. I will, Toya.”

And the smile on Toya’s face grew bigger and softer and kinder than ever before.

And a gentle laugh left his mouth.

“So, do you wanna ditch?” Toya asked. Toya, the model student, top of his class, asked Akito Shinonome (top student in rankings but completely defined to others by his delinquency) if he wanted to ditch school with him.  

What the hell? Akito had skipped all the time, sure, but that was nothing new. Toya only missed days of school if he was literally inches away from death from sickness or illness.

Akito still hadn’t answered, but of course he wanted to. More than anything. “School and classes seem out of the question for you. Come on, let’s go. If we leave right now we can’t get caught since it’s lunch,” Toya informed.

“Y-Yeah! Uh, let's go…?” Akito was still really fucking confused. And concerned. To hell with someone being concerned about himself, someone needed to be concerned about Toya because something wasn’t… right with Toya.

“Alright.” Toya immediately grabbed Akito by the wrist and grabbed both of their bags and hastily pulled them up. Akito’s mouth gaped even more, if possible, and looked deep into Toya’s eyes. What was even happening? His confusion was different from the type he felt when he was alone. When he was unsure of everything. When he didn’t know what was real anymore. This confusion was nice. Nicer than anything else in his life.

His partner with dual-toned hair tugged harder at his wrist, and Akito saw him getting out of the benches connected to the cafeteria tables. A little giggle left his mouth, “Akito, you know I can’t swing your legs out of the bench. Unless, you want me to?” Akito’s face blew up into a red haze . “Toya, genuinely what the fuck is going on with you? I’ve literally never seen you like this,” Akito muttered in surprise, and began to swing his legs out.

Toya swore under his breath, “Shame, I wouldn’t have minded carrying you out of here like a princess.” Akito’s face became even redder, if possible. “You’re such an idiot–” Akito laughed out, the stickiness of his tears already thinning on his skin.

“But still, you aren’t acting like how you usually are, so why should I? It’s like we switched personalities,” Toya filled in.

“Oh.”

“You look like a damsel in distress right now. Face a mess, hair all over the place, and staring at their saviour with love-struck eyes.”

“Love-struck?! You can’t be serious!”

Toya pulled his arm with a tight grip and they walked around the crowded room. The only adults in the cafeteria were busy on their phones instead of supervising the students, so leaving was easier than it should’ve been. They made their way to the outside of the school buildings, and Akito led him along to a hole in the fence that he often climbed through to ditch or enter whenever he arrived at school late.

Akito wasn’t alone. He had Toya by his side. He always would, even if Akito didn’t ask for it or didn’t hint towards the fact that he needed it. But he knew he always was. He’d tried everything. There was nothing that could help him breathe and be something. He wanted to live, he wanted to live, he was going to die. Toya was there. His partner of multiple years was there. The person Akito loved and cherished and held close to his heart even if he would never be brave enough to say how he felt about him.

Toya Aoyagi was right by his side. Akito wasn’t Alone. 

He just wished it was enough.

|

They walked around the shopping mall for a few hours until students began filling in, signifying the end of the usual school day. They settled at a little café on the second floor of the mall, and their arms were stacked with bags after shopping for so long. Akito had purchased things for his mom’s birthday so it didn’t feel like she had nothing. If Akito was his mom and he was the only thing she had left from her family, he would stop coming home too.

Akito sat across from Toya in the booth seats, their table propped up against a window that looked out onto the hundreds of shoppers walking through the establishment. Akito’s head was nestled into his arm, flat on the table, but his free hand was entangled with Toya’s. Toya was reading a book he bought an hour ago, and they were sitting in complete silence, waiting for their food to arrive.

Olive-green eyes looked out the window.

Toya watched his face melt into one devoid of anything; like there were both a million thoughts or absolutely none in his head. It was scary. Someone so full of passion and motivation should never look like this. But at this rate, this was turning into Akito’s normal. Ever since Vivid BAD SQUAD was formed, Toya couldn’t remember the last time Akito acted like his normal self. But, sometimes, he would wonder if he ever really knew Akito’s ‘real self’.

When they were in Junior High, Akito was hyper-motivated to succeed. To surpass RAD WEEKEND, to be something in his life. There were times where Akito stuttered and fell lower than his normal, but he always eventually reset and acted like everything was the same. But it had been a while since he reset– since before summer break. It was as if that spark that made Akito, Akito, had burnt out completely. 

And Toya was scared, because he knew (thought he knew,) that Akito took things very seriously, and even small defeats could build up into much larger ones for him.

And Toya was scared, because they had been winning and winning but he was afraid Akito would only ever think back to the loss. He was scared it wouldn’t be enough for him.

And Toya was scared, because Akito hadn’t been himself recently. He hadn’t been even close to it for the last few months. Toya wasn’t sure if he ever knew Akito’s real self.

And Toya was scared, because his partner was not the same boy he met when they were thirteen.

Olive-green eyes turned to look at his partner, his grey eyes standing in contrast to his lighter skin.

Akito loved Toya. And there was no way Toya would love someone like him. That every normal cycle would continue on, even if it made him feel pretentious in his misery.

A tired waitress lowered a tray of food to their table; a large stack of warm pancakes and two plates of hamburg steak. Toya had ordered the food while Akiko was still out of it, so they were left with their usual orders. Toya grabbed a knife and fork and began cutting up the stack of pancakes. Akito always liked them in small chunks; he never ate them in large ones. The warm smell of syrup and butter was sweet and powerful, but welcoming. Like a warm hug. When he was done, Toya pushed the plate towards Akito, but it was still positioned in front of both of them so they could share. He grabbed the hamburg plates and cut each patty into fourths while Akito watched.

Their moves flowed like a simple routine, one rehearsed and ran through dozens of times. As if they knew every thought going through each other’s heads without even having to look at the other.

They ate in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Whenever one of them spilled even a drop of food, the other would immediately bring a napkin to their partner’s face. They were practised; they knew each other. Each and every movement they made, each action they would make next. Their reactions to things, how they processed them. What made them, them. Their own person. Their tethers to each other.

The simple thought of sharing himself with another made Akito’s heart hurt. I should just die, would it be easier, then?

“You can’t know me,” he whispered beneath his breath. He didn’t mean to, but it slipped out. Really, Akito did just about any random thing in front of Toya. Toya lifted his head up from his plate, “What? Akito-” Akito cut him off and sucked in a harsh breath, “Sorry. It’s, uh, nothing. Just eat.” He averted his eyes to his plate to bury himself away from Toya, but it was a futile attempt.

“Don’t kid me,” Toya snapped quietly. Toya was soft, gentle, and patient. And Akito was being selfish right now. Of course he was fed up. Akito was surprised it didn’t happen sooner.

Toya started to scoot out of the booth seat. He pushed his bag back into the corner, where he was just sitting, and got up to sit next to Akito.

“I need you to talk to me, Akito. Are you scared of me?”

Toya was looking straight into his eyes, and the very action made Akito want to run away and die in the dirt. He wanted to live. He’d thought of it a million times before. Whenever his skin bled and retracted at his own control, or he couldn’t breathe through his nose because of the snot running through it, or when his throat became sore because of the cries of increasing volume that he tried to keep in. He thought of it all the time, and yet, as Toya looked into him, another human being, that’s when the idea of it hurt the most.

“Please stop.”

His head was hurting. He wanted to get away.

He was about to tear his head away from Toya’s direct gaze but his hands stopped him from doing so. His hands wrapped around his face and cupped him into his grasp. “Akito. Please. Tell me what goes on in your head." And Toya’s eyes were glistening, though not as much as Akito’s. Toya’s thumbs rubbed softly against the skin on his chin. He wanted to run, to leave, but he was trapped within the booth. His breath was so close, and Akito breathed him in. Toya was alive. Toya was a real person. Akito was stealing his partner’s happiness. He responded like a coward.

His voice broke, “I can’t, Toya. I can’t tell you. I really want to but I just can’t . Everything will be fine with me, so just go on like always. You know how I am.” You don’t know how I am. You don’t know how I drink. You don’t know how I beg to my ceiling every night. You don’t know the dotted red lines on my sheets. You don’t know how my limbs sting. You don’t know how my Mom or Dad or Ena see me. You don’t know my future. You don’t know my dreams.

“Do I?”

You never will.

Akito felt fear. There was so much to face. He didn’t want to sing. He didn’t want to dance. He didn’t want to hear music, or he didn’t want to hear another’s voice. He wanted silence. He wanted peace. He wanted the world to be passive and to stop moving and for everything to just shut up and go away so he could be miserable alone. And I’m sorry for it.

Akito shook his head and his shoulders crunched into a sob. Akito thought he was fresh out of tears from the night before, and earlier at lunch, but the waves of saline liquid trickling down his face betrayed his composure. He ripped his face out of Toya’s comforting hands and stared back at his food.

He brought a fork of hamburger patty and rice to his mouth and continued eating. All while Toya was watching in visible tears and utter frustration. Toya’s fingers clenched into a tough fist and Akito wouldn’t even mind if he punched him right then. He deserved it for hurting Toya. For hurting everybody in his life, especially you, Toya, I am _____

So they sat in silence again, two high schoolers sitting in the weight of something bigger and more mature than they could handle. Toya didn’t know what to do, but Akito preferred it that way. Akito preferred to deal with the consequences of his existence by himself, like he had since he was a child. He didn’t need the help of someone else, it was horrifying to see it, because it wasn’t real. He swore, it wasn’t, real, he didn’t need It.

Everything about himself was wrong and terrible and it made his skin itch like there was dirt and blades and nails underneath it. He couldn’t tell Toya that. He knew his thoughts weren’t normal, but Akito didn’t want to concern him, or anyone else, for that manner. Not Toya, not An, not Kohane, not his father, not his mother, not Ena. They weren’t important thoughts. They were bad, he would end up dead from them, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t important.

None of this ever was.

He doubted Ena would care if she knew. Would she see him in the same light as she used to when they were younger? When she could confidently call herself his big sister? It was stupid and selfish and lowly to think it, but he wanted things to go back to how they used to be, how they were when he was younger. When they were younger.

He knew they wouldn’t ever be able to. He couldn’t be a naive little kid anymore. The first realisation of this (ages ago, it’s been years since he had hoped for it, ages ago, it was not going to change.) felt like a cold bucket of ice water was poured over his head; he was left unable to breathe. He would never smile at Ena’s silly antics again. He would never sit with his mother on the couch and fall asleep to a movie they watched together. He would never cook with his father in the kitchen after a long day of work and laugh at the things they dropped. And he was the reason why they were that way.

His very existence created bigger and bigger rifts between his family. They grew apart and became cruel because of him. He was the one who stripped the comfort and warmth of a family away from them.

He loved his family dearly. He missed his family dearly. He craved the love and elated feeling that came from their presence.

But he was no longer a kid, and he had to face the truth of his existence and life.

Akito Shinonome was not fated for happiness. He wanted to live.

|

“Here’s your bill, sirs. Is there anything else I can assist you with today?” A waitress asked as she approached with a paper. She looked older than the two of them, but couldn’t be older than 25. Stress lines and early-appearing wrinkles were found on her face, and Akito wondered if she was like him, in a way. Completely and utterly lost in their life, and clinging to practically nothing. She was pretty, but she definitely looked the part.

“Thank you, but we’re alright here,” Toya replied to her. She turned to retreat back to her post but her eyes got caught on Akito. For a second, Akito was confused, but he figured that the dark underneath his swollen red eyes (from crying and bawling like a baby that he wasn’t anymore because of the things he did–) and the dazed look in his eyes didn’t create the prettiest sight. She sent him a compassionate smile, with a knowing look in her eyes, like she could relate.

Relate. Nobody could relate to him. Akito Shinonome, pathetic being. Nobody was as awful as him. He loved the world, he loved how people existed, and how they lived. But there was no life for him. And he had accepted it. His cries clung to his throat, releasing in the middle of the night when the stars were out to bear down on him and light stopped leaking from the hallway into his room. He clenched his hands and his eyes bled into his sheets, his soul being ripped from his body at his sobs. His brain melted into his pillow, his skin grew back into his blankets, his blood and sweat marked their territories into his bed, He accepted it. He accepted it. He did not accept it. The pain, the pain, he accepted it. 

This was his destiny. This was his passion.

He felt cold again. It was all gone.

The world whispered over his shoulder every second he breathed. It was like his mind and the whispers could never sit in agreement. He wasn’t good to anybody, and it made his skin burn.

Limb by limb, it’d tear him apart. It was his repentance. he’d been forsaken to this life to pay for his sins.

Akito turned and looked at Toya. He was beautiful. He was everything. And what was Akito?

“Hey, love birds! Stop being gay already, we promised to practise with Len and Miku,” a familiar female voice rang out in the cafe.

Len? Miku?

Akito turned his head; An was there, Kohane trailing behind her. He twisted his head back to face out the window to wipe his tears. What was An talking about? “Like, Hatsune Miku? And Kagamine Len? The vocaloids? We just made a song with them– didn’t we choose Kaito for this new song? And how’d you find us, anyways?” Akito covered everything up in his voice, like there was nothing bad to begin with. He erased everything he possibly could, but he couldn’t entirely erase his physical and outward appearance. He avoided eye contact with Kohane, looking closer to An who was distracted and looking down at her phone.

“Did you hit your head or something? We promised to sing with Len and Miku today– they’d be upset if we ditched. But anyways, we saw you two in the window from across the mall. Truly, your homosexuality knows no bounds. But on the way here we got stopped by like, Koha, what was it? Maybe seven people? They took photos with us and tagged us on Twitter or something, but interacting with fans is so cool!” An rambled, but Akito was only wondering, how could a computer be upset if we didn’t play with them?

Toya looked at him, his eyes squinted into confusion, “Akito…?”

Akito felt like he was forgetting something.

An was busy on her phone, looking for the post, but Kohane looked into Akito’s face and her brown doe eyes widened like a deer who had just been caught in headlights. She gently tugged her partner’s sleeve, and signalled to Akito. An looked up and pouted at Kohane before turning to Akito and Toya.

An’s face morphed into one of worry, and Akito felt his skin crawl stop looking at me, “Hey, Akito? Are you doing okay?” She took a hesitant step towards him and continued. Let it go. Let it go. “S-Shinonome-kun, you can talk to us if you need anything. We’re your friends,” Kohane tried pitching in. Shinonome, Shinonome, that was his name, that was his name, that was her name, why can’t you stop caring? Can you start caring?

They couldn’t know or even hear what was wrong. There was really nothing wrong and he was just a miserable idiot who hurt and hurt and hurt and Akito didn’t want this. He should’ve never left the house. He should stop trying to interact with the world– it was too frightening. What was going on with him stayed with him. And it was all fake, anyways. None of it was real. Why would any of it be real? Why would any of it be real?

“Don’t treat me like a baby. I don’t need your coddling,” he snapped. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean anything. He just wanted them to leave and be gone because he couldn’t deal with another person he couldn't interact he couldn’t speak he couldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’t– Akito was mean. Akito was violent. Akito was loud. Everything was sharp and painful and everything he said and did and how he reacted was laid with points that would stab if you came too close.

An’s face twisted in an instant from genuine concern to anger. She was just trying to help. He was such a piece of shit. 

“Shinonome-kun, we’re just trying to help–” Kohane was cut off by Akito’s sudden sneer. Just leave me alone. I can’t do anything for you all. Just give it up.

Please let me go.

“I told you to call me Akito, Kohane. We’re teammates, aren’t we? What, are we strangers again ?” Akito was looking away from his closest (and only) friends and he just stared at the cafe table. His breathing was heavy. He wanted to go home. He wanted to never talk to anybody ever again. He wanted to stop thinking and he wanted to sleep and lay in his bed until it would all go away. He never wanted to go home. He wanted to stay with them. He wanted them to tell him he was okay and everything would be fine and he didn’t have to worry or be sad or want to die–

Toya’s hand tightened around his own again. A second ago he was calming him down from a sobbing mess, and now he was trying to calm him down from an aggressive storm.

“Is that what you think this is? Coddling? We’re not coddling you, we want to help since you’re obviously stuck right now,” An’s voice was loud. Not loud like An loud, but loud because everything was too loud for him right now and the only sound he could tolerate was the buzzing of his desk fan and the slow inhales and exhales that his lungs powered through to keep him alive as he laid on his bed with his sweat melting into him in the dark. Not like An loud, but she was loud.

Akito let go of Toya’s hand and looked out the cafe window. There was a boutique across the mall and a pretty dress stood in its display window. Ena would like it. The stars bore down on him.

His eyes widened in wet, his lungs chopping to pump oxygen through his lungs, alveoli splitting the waste from the atmosphere from the clean air to rejuvenate his body and keep him alive. We want to help you because you’re obviously stuck right now. Haven’t I always been stuck? Where was the change now, why was the change now,

“Akito, please stop this, think about what you’re doing before you actually do it,” Toya tried to reason with him, flames bursting on his skin and devouring him whole. Why don’t you get it? Why can’t I stop? He didn’t want to go through it all for the millionth time. Everything was the same. Everything was the same. Everything ended up the same way as before.

Akito would go out. Akito would be around other people. Akito would experience and see life living in pulses around him. But he wouldn’t know life. He would never know life.

“Guys, just stop. You wouldn’t know what to do, even if I told you, so d-drop it. It’s not even important.” Akito’s hands were shaking now, his voice was shaking now, the sky and the stars held him tight, His forehead was resting on his two stood up hands and he was rubbing his eyes dry to prevent even more tears from leaking out.

Why was he so scared ?

Wasn’t it always his fault?

“Akito, we care about you. Please just talk to us,” An pleaded with him. Akito looked up quickly to see her face, and he wanted to just melt into the ground. Her face was worried, and she wasn’t her typical and playful self. She looked on the verge of tears. He wanted to beg on the floor for her forgiveness. He could feel his face get hot again. His eyes were burning with more tears that he somehow still had. He wanted them to leave. So he could go back to the quiet and lonely existence that he was used to.

“Just go, All of you, Just leave already. Don’t want you here,” Akito tried to speak, but his voice cracked and fizzled out on his last few words. Just leave me to die.

Their faces grew pained, all of them each wanting to help but not knowing how . Akito knew he had to just keep them away from him instead of them uncovering his current state. “Shinonome-kun—” Kohane started, trying to reason. Tears were in her eyes now; they were all becoming increasingly scared.

Shinonome. Akito Shinonome. One in a billion, right?

The claps of a few people were the only reprise he was given on the stage. Bored and angry eyes pierced into his bones, jeers and people talking drowned out the announcer who was thanking Akito for performing.

His legs were shaking, his microphone was slipping from his fingers, his lungs were heaving, his eyes were splitting, his head was sinking, his heart was crying, and he just stared back into the crowd. He trudged his legs forward, to walk off the stage, away from the one moment he had that destroyed this dream, destroyed this life and purpose, and he heard the words of a more incredible, more experienced musician.

“Eh, I think some people just aren’t talented enough to thrive. That kid should quit while he’s ahead– It’ll be a lot less painful if he snaps out of his dreams before it’s too late.”

Akito wanted to fall to the floor and never pick himself up. He’d told himself hundreds of times, he fell asleep with the mantra whispering in his head– this was never going to work out. He was a fool for continuing this game. He was such a joke.

Your breath will remain buried beneath the ground.

But was this the right way?

“I don’t need your pity, I don’t need your concern. God, just stop acting like it ever mattered!” Akito yelled at them, he was cruel. It was later on in the day and the cafe was emptier than usual, but their arguing had drawn the attention of the other customers eating there.

They were all looking at him. I’m sorry. Whispers and nods behind hands covering their mouths could be heard. He needed to get out of there. Before it all burst from his chest and he said things that he couldn’t crawl back from.

He looked around once more, and the world felt like it was closing in on him. As if everyone was mocking him and everyone was screaming at him (like everyone else did). He grabbed his bag and stood up— too quickly to feel stable. He wobbled and his inhales became frantic and uneven. He still noticed his friends reaching out to him and shaking their heads. One of their hands wrapped tightly around his right wrist, and his body shook violently. It didn’t hurt much but the inclination of the touch was so frightening,

because if they saw the tears of his skin or felt the ripples of his nerves or the blood pouring beneath his broken veins, what would they say to him?

(this world was not one that he was destined to live in.)

Akito pulled himself out of their grasp and ran.

|

Home. He needed to get home. It was dark out by now, with the only thing lighting up his surroundings being the lights from the city around him. Akito had been wandering around for the past few hours. Like there was no aim or goal in his mind; just the urge to go somewhere. He’d been walking around for so long that he had reached the tall bridge that crossed the river around the city. He’d been to the bridge dozens of times before, even without the want to actually do anything there.

He walked up to the railings of the bridge and leaned forward against them— it wouldn’t hurt to look over. It wouldn’t hurt anymore to gaze into the beauty of the world that rendered him into nothing. Then, wasn’t he the world? Would it be too pretentious to say?

The stars in the sky were bright and shouting, he noticed as he looked up.

The waves in the water were loud and crashing, full of life, he noticed as he looked down.

The city lights to the left of him were pulsing and vibrant, the plains to his right were calm but contained the lives of thousands. 

Even when he was surrounded by so much life, he always knew that none of it would ever belong to him.

I would like to breathe tonight. And maybe, forever, until the universe bursts apart, and my love is taken from my soul, and my heart is glistening in the stars, and I can then sing, I would like to breathe tonight.

The ringing of his phone threw him off guard, it had been going off with hundreds of messages and calls for the past few hours, but he’d been deliberately ignoring them. Talking to somebody wouldn’t help him now. He would give anything to disappear and physically remove himself from the existence of everything. So he let the phone ring out, but it called again. And again. And again.

Akito pulled out his phone, about to turn it on silent, but the caller on his phone made his eyes fly open.

Incoming Call From: Ena

What?

His mouth went dry. She hadn’t called him in years. The most she did was send a one or two sentence message once every other week, or sometimes ignoring him for months. Why was she calling him now? Why now? But there was a high likelihood that she called so he could do something for her, not because she wanted to simply talk. Akito already burned that path years ago. 

So he picked up the phone and answered the call. An alarmed voice spoke in hushed words as soon as he picked up, “Akito. Come home, right now. He—”

“It’s been years since you called me, Ena. What do you need?” His words were flat and borderline hostile, he was a mean soul, but Akito only felt regret and betrayal shackle his heart to confrontation. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t regulate his emotions in the face of another human being, not anymore. Let alone his own sister. His big and sweet sister whose everything he ruined, whose life was altered by him in a way he could never repay.

“Akito, Dad is home. He wants to talk to you. He seems angry– please stop dragging me into whatever he’s mad at you for.” And she hung up the phone like it was nothing. It was only around nine-thirty, there was no reason for his father to be home so early. He typically came home close to midnight, if at all.

Akito looked over the edge of the bridge railing again. He could see the cool blue water with a nearly still surface, a few waves running up against the pilings that acted like foundations for the dock by the shore. Every time he had ever gone there, it felt like he was drawn to the tranquillity that came from just observing. Watching the life pass him by and just exist without anybody’s input. It felt beautiful.

Like life was so simple. He looked around him. There was everything and nothing. Everything and nothing. It was like a broken record, a mantra repeating over and over in his head.

He liked the things around him, he loved the world that breathed out its distastes, but his life was undeniable. He had spent every second of his life running. He couldn’t run from his family, too.

So even if his brain was screaming at him to stay away from home because something would happen, Akito began walking home.

Even if he wanted to stay at the quiet bridge and stare at the night sky for a little while longer, before he entered a predictable sequence that would last for a lifetime.

The stars were beautiful tonight. The world was so big, and he’d never get to see it.

|

“It’s late for you to be returning home on a school night. I hope you value whatever it was that you were doing all day,” his father spoke when he walked through the front door. His voice was bitter and cold, like he was trying to hook Akito onto the bait he threw into the water. He was sitting at the dining table, switching from his meal and the phone in his hands, not sparing a single glance at Akito.

“Yeah, I value the stuff I do. I don’t like to waste my time.” The last few breaths left of my life. I can’t let them fall out of my hands. Akito took off his shoes and leaned on the doorframe to remove them one by one. There were luggage bags sitting by the door, with a suitcase next to them and a wrapped canvas leaning on the suitcase handle. His father looked up at him and scoffed. “Oh, then, enlighten me–” his father waved his hands up in the air, “–why did I get a phone call from your school earlier while I was at work? You know, I wasn’t happy to get a message from them in the middle of a meeting.”

Akito stiffened. His father looked up to stare directly into his eyes. Narrowed eyes bore into hazel ones, and Akito felt like falling to the floor. Or running to his room. Or just dying. Really, any one of those things would be okay to him right now. His eyes landed on the kitchen counter; every dish and plate of food was left exactly the same as it was in the morning. Had his mother gotten out of bed to eat? Had Ena eaten that day?

Akito averted his eyes. That wasn’t a question he wanted to answer. His father wouldn’t stop prying until he answered every question he sent his way, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying to avoid him.

He had to avoid it. Telling anybody what was wrong with him was like being sentenced to a life of even more misery. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone else and would only hurt in the end. Just the idea made him shiver; it was terrifying. The thought of everybody knowing, everybody hearing and understanding the whispers in his ears that made him feel like he was going crazy. The ones he brought upon himself. So he didn’t want help. Didn’t need help. He didn’t need anyone to know, because, really, there was nothing wrong to begin with.

He was just living until the time comes when he needed to stop. 

“Akito, do you want to tell me why you weren’t at school after lunch? Perhaps you were ill– you don’t exactly look well– but I highly doubt that you would be bold enough to place a few coughs over your future.”

My future. What future?

He had no future. Akito had no future. There was nothing. Of course there was nothing. Why would he have anything at all? He was just alive. He was just left alone and filled with nothing. He would fall lower and lower, become less than garbage less than everything less than the world and chase after things that weren’t important because his dreams were not real and not real and not real

Akito’s life ultimately meant nothing. He could continue to live, and the hurt would continue, to die was to let the hurt die with him. If he were to live it would be for Toya and his friends and everybody he’s ever spoken to because that’s what he owed the world. (and yet the hurt would continue,)

If he were to die, their lives would be so unaffected (that it made him sick.) that it made him almost yearn for it. 

No matter the outcome, his very existence would not change anybody else’s.

And it would be so easy to let the hurt stop now.

So yeah, no future. He had a future, he had every future, She said he was the world and he would be beautiful and it could be beautiful and he believed her because She loved him and She created him and he was supposed to live for her and live so that she would never see a child cry again and Mom, so much has changed,

It was clear now. He wasn’t supposed to be here anymore.

His father stood up and approached where Akito was standing by the kitchen counters. His face was stern. His face was mad. His face was upset. His face was worried. His face was worried. What was it? What was his father going to say? Was he going to berate him? Scream at him? Tell him he wished he was never born? It would not be the first time he said such a thing because Akito was the scum beneath his feet on the dirt, and– “I’ve had to do a lot to support this family. Your mother and I were in art school when we had Ena– do you know how much I had to do to build a life for our family? All I ask at this point is that you go to school and graduate. You can’t just stay at home all day and sing. You’re in high school now. Take this seriously. It’s your life at stake, here.”

Akito stayed silent. How should I tell you about my head? How should I tell you about the stars?

“Akito, what’s going on with you? How could you have fallen so low–?”

“So low? How high do you think I fell from? I was never shit– if you think I’ve changed so badly then you need a reality check.” Akito was desperate. Completely desperate for everything to just fall flat on the floor and for him to ignore it all and let it pass him by. Desperate for his father to stop caring because Akito knew he didn’t and desperate for everybody to just. Stop. I didn’t mean it, please start please start please oh please if you cared then I could breathe and we could breathe and you would see me, Me, again,

His father started to walk towards him but Akito couldn’t meet his eyes. He turned to stare at the untouched plates on the counter with his note completely ignored. “I’m sorry I only fuck things up, but I’ll be like this for as long as I live,” Akito muttered, his voice weak and simply tired. But it would be okay, because he wouldn’t live long.

“Akito, look at me,” his father demanded. I can’t look anybody in the eyes anymore. Everything was scary; he would just crumble if he made the most human connection of looking into somebody’s soul. Akito’s eyes were burning. He didn’t turn to look his dad in the eyes. “Have you even talked to Mom or Ena recently?” he whispered, his voice light and detached from everything around him. If you have, could you sing it in my ear? Could you whisper into the walls and carry your voice to my room as I die? Could you deliver it to me, wrapped up in a tight, white, package with a green bow because that was her favourite colour anyways,

His father sighed and Akito could see him place his hand on the counter by where Akito was standing. “What does that have to do with this? Son, we’ve talked about this before. Remember that? Years ago, when you were in junior high. Back when you would always skip school and began to talk back to your parents. Back when you gave up art and threw away all that you had going for you to self-learn street music.” The artist ran his free hand through his hair. “This needs to stop. You can’t just stop doing something important even if you don’t like it. Even if you don’t feel like it or would rather do something else, you have to go to school.” 

I’m going to die. Could you hear it now? Could you bear it now?

Akito was still. He didn’t move. He didn’t react. He felt the tears bloom upwards in his throat like vines strangling his breath, but he didn’t do anything. This was all because of him, truthfully, I’m sorry, Dad. Akito shouldn’t be there right now— he should be buried in a broken and worn down casket far far away from where his family lived. He placed himself into a self-proclaimed exile from society and humanity, and yet, here he was. It would be much easier for them all if Akito was gone. Less worries, less pain, less stress. The shame in your hearts overwhelms my own with cries that I do not know how to digest. Is this the right path?

“Are you even listening? Do you even care?” His father’s voice was building up in volume with every word he spoke out to his son.

Akito tried to fight with the ropes wrapping his vocal cords to force out an apology, but his lips only moved in a memorised movement (I am sorry, beyond this body) and his voice was not heard. He didn’t make a sound, and Shinei Shinonome was not looking at his only son. Akito made no impact on the world, when he stood there; still. His voice did not break the silence and frustration echoing between the two, standing there in the dimly lit house filled with memories they had shared together.

“Mommy, look what me and Ena made!” Akito held up an acrylic painting with a few little stick figures of people on them. His eyes were shining, and Kanako laughed as she patted his head and pulled him into a side hug. “That’s beautiful, sweetie. Why don’t we put it on the fridge?” 

“Wait, I wanna do it too!” Ena climbed down from the short step-stool where she was putting ornaments on the tree with Shinei.

Kanako placed a magnet atop the paper canvas and stuck it to the fridge. She took out her camera, “Kids, pose in front of your drawing! I wanna take a picture. Make it last forever.”

The joy on their children’s faces was infectious. Shinei and Kanako looked deep into each other's eyes, a message connecting between the two of them– this life is a precious one.

Forever was too strong a word for a family destined to be shred to ruins.

There used to be love, but Akito knew it was absent now because of himself. The only thing he produced was the waste from the carbon dioxide he exhaled from his mouth. The foul mouth he had used to curse others, everything else left in the dust.

Akito had to cough for his vocal cords to vibrate again, but it sounded more like a whimper of pain. Akito turned his head to look at his father who looked nothing short of pained. Now it was his father who wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Dad—”

“Your mother and I did everything we could, but we still somehow ended up with you two being… like this . We— We were a good family. Kanako and I… We were twenty when we found out we were going to have Ena. We went to parenting classes and read countless books to undo what our parents had done with us.” His father looked reminiscent of the past. The past where two (barely) adults ran away from their parents who pushed them down below the ground, where they loved and it was something more than the cold glances they give each other now. The past where they looked for a new start, but that new start turned into the same life they did everything to escape from. And it was because of him,

“I don’t know where we went wrong. We indulged you two in everything you wanted, and we told you when things wouldn’t work out so there was no false optimism. Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours for what you wanted… but it all feels sour now.”

Akito breathed. His selfishness led to this, this violence of souls. They clashed, their swords up and soldiers armed, but their blood had already been shed and there was no heart behind it. It was stagnant now. This house was preserved like a memorial for what could have been, for what it had been, but it was vacant of the love that used to chirp through its walls.

the regret upon my soul weighs down on the earth, and i sang, i am lost in this suspension. and if you were to claw me out, i swear, the echoes of my song would reach into your heart.

“It was my fault, I’m sorry—” Akito’s voice broke like someone had snapped it with their bare hands. His father didn’t say it, but Akito knew it was all his fault. He was the one who tore this family apart. His birth and introduction to this world was the reason there was more pain than gentle care. 

Everything he did. Everything he said. Everything he thought. He was the start of the end. And he was the only one who could repent for it.

“I think it’s too late for that. I can’t…”

Shinei Shinonome looked at Akito Shinonome with a sense of loss in his eyes.

The man who hadn’t yet lived to his forties looked at his son who would never live to his twenties with a sense of loss in his eyes.

Akito looked into the soul of his father, who was far too weathered to be hurt by small things.

“It’s hard to see you as my son now.”

But Akito was not a small impact on his father’s life.

And Akito made it all worse.

They had both never experienced what it was like to be a child free of the pain from this world.

“I can’t blame you, you’re just a child. You’re still my kid, but maybe it was foolish to think that we could’ve made it work. I find myself wishing at times that there was something that could be done to fix ourselves, but the damage has already been done.” The mold has set in. Akito was the parasite who infected their livelihood.

His face was wet. Akito wanted it all to stop. It was supposed to stop. Life left to be squeezed out of his poisoned organs. To be fed a deadly medicine that would kill his heart and lungs and clean out the filth that built up inside him. The moment he stops breathing is the moment he can make up for it all. Every person he met and cursed with his existence would be free.

His father was silent as Akito wept, standing still in the same place he had been for the entire conversation. “Head to bed. I don’t want to see you right now.”

Akito didn’t move. He couldn’t move. Akito only cried.

“Akito, did you hear me? Don’t shut down. Go upstairs. Go to school if you want— I don’t care anymore— and set a damn alarm so you’re not in bed all day. I’m going to be away for a while because of work. Take care of your mother and sister, make sure they don’t wind up dead from negligence.” Shinei pinched his nose and sucked in a deep breath.

Negligence. Akito couldn’t take care of himself. How was he supposed to take care of other human beings? Oh, but they wouldn’t have anybody else to support them if he gave up. He felt bad for them. He was their last resort and there was nobody else they could trade him out for. He had to. He had to be there for them. He had to he had to he had to–

Akito didn’t move. He was still frozen in place, hands erupting with a tremor that couldn’t be staunched. It flooded his existence, his very being and he couldn’t just calm down. He couldn’t calm down, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, and his father could tell. He shoved the chair between them to the floor, and Akito jumped like electricity had been poured into his veins. It didn’t hit him, but a yelp escaped his mouth from the volume and suddenness of it hitting the floor.

“I’m sorry–”

“Stop apologising. You keep saying the same words but you never change. I don’t– You can’t keep going like this. You make it so much more difficult when you behave like this. You behave like you’re a shell of who you used to be.”

Akito looked at him. Akito looked at him. And his father was looking at him like he had betrayed everything he had ever whispered in promise to him. Like Akito was a sinner who was looking at the purest soul as if he had done nothing to regret.

Akito breathed in, to speak, to attempt a chance of forgiveness– a way to repent and fix what was already destroyed.

“Are you even listening? You never listen– why don’t you listen?”

To confess his sins to the priest before God looked down upon him like a tainted devil.

But, a mere boy like himself had no business speaking to a master of the universe.

Akito stood still.

“Go! Get out of my face–” his father shrieked before he spoke, his hand shoving a glass from the counter to the floor, the shattering glass ricocheting on Akito’s feet. His father hated him. It was clear now, the look of anger in his eyes. Like Akito was a failed piece the artist had devoted too much time to to turn back on. There was one word ringing in his head like a church bell echoing through a small town possessed by beliefs of a divine god. 

Listen.

Akito stumbled to turn around towards the stairs, and he forced his body to pull in the direction of the stair rails. The carpeted stairs with white painted railing where the paint was peeling in the corners. Akito climbed a few steps until he was out of view from the kitchen, and collapsed halfway up the stairs until his face was scraping against the rough carpet. The exhaustion of his body was catching up to him now. The world spinned from his perspective on the floor of the stairs.

Akito heard his father throw another chair to the floor. He heard him swear. He heard him cry out. He heard him rummage through drawers, and pull things out into his harsh grasp. He heard glass bottles clank in his hands, and he heard the door swing open. He heard the suitcases and bags roll out of the house. He heard the only car their family had start. He heard the trunk open and he heard things get loaded into the trunk. He heard him shut the front door of the house. He heard him lock the door and fiddle with the handle to check its security.

Akito heard his father leave.

Every single noise of departure Akito heard was made by his father. His dad. His dad. The one who made everything and did everything for him. The one taught him and nurtured him when he was a young child. The one who put up with him for decades. The one whose life he ruined. It was all Akito’s fault.

The mere existence of a person like him had single-handedly brought the lives of others to ruin and crumble. He was a trespasser in their lives. Their worlds.

Akito cried. Again. Again. Again. 

He couldn’t help it. He shouldn’t be allowed to stop.

Everything hurt. His head was pounding hard, and even in the dark, the things he could see were dizzy and blurred. His hands grasped pathetically around the corner of the carpeted staircase, and they curled into themselves as his body shook with silent sobs.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” escaped Akito’s mouth, his eyes in a frenzy and clothes and hair a mess. Where did he go wrong in his life? He was just trying to exist. But existing was so hard, and he didn’t think that he wanted to try it anymore. He hurt them all. They were kind and he was cruel. And they wouldn't know him. They would never know him.

He still missed it. He missed it all. He missed when his father loved him. When his family cared. When Ena would help him with his homework, when his mother would put his hair into tiny and short braids while he read an above-grade level book. And even when his father would only scold him with a teasing look, instead of one with pure hatred.

He missed everything. Everything was different and nobody was there to help guide him through the change. He had nothing. He had nothing. He sobbed into the carpet.

Ena had her online friends, his father had his art, and his mother had the friends she’s had since high school, even if they were all broken by this world. Everyone had something. A reason to keep going. But Akito had nothing but self-inflicted pain and hurt shoved down his throat. He loved his friends, but they didn’t love him in the way he cared for them. His music was nothing, his music was everything he lived for for so long but it was so easily rendered into something that could be thrown away at the click of a button. Every thing he made, every thing he did, it was all just worthless fucking garbage. It was all pointless.

It was all his own doing. His own being. He had everything.

How did he ruin it all so miserably?

Harsh and gut-wrenching sobs that made him feel like he was about to throw up strangled his throat, and the dimly lit carpet appeared even darker with wet spots.

Every day for the past million years was a bad day. There weren’t any days where he felt as though he could breathe, or where he could sleep without a guilty conscience, or just exist without thinking. Make it all stop. Make this stupid, repetitive, cycle stop.

He felt his arms burn at the friction from his sleeves rubbing against the carpet. It would be so easy to give up and make it fair for everyone else whose lives he infected.

He’d planned it out before. His death. His erasure of life. It was so easy. He was too scared to go through with it before. Maybe some time in the future, he would be less afraid. Maybe some time in the future, he would stop running from what he deserved.

He pulled himself to his feet and prayed with everything in him that Ena didn’t hear his dumb crying, even if she probably did.

The door to his room was open in the same position he had left it in the morning, but upon walking in, he could smell something stale. It was either the mix of clean and dirty clothes strewn across the floor that he was too tired to clean up, or maybe he missed a few drops of blood. Or it was the alcohol hidden around his room, or the plates from a few days ago with food he was too bored and tired to eat.

He didn’t really care anymore.

He fell onto his bed, the moonlight from the night cascading over his window. The scene felt vaguely familiar until he realised that he was in this exact position the night before. School started up from summer break about a week ago, and he couldn’t even handle that one week before he started crumbling beyond recognition. He didn’t even see a reason to continue going, at that point. (all of these hopes, all of these dreams, he didn’t see a reason to continue going.) He left his homework undone and opened up his phone as he sunk deeper into his mattress.

He had a few dozen missed calls and texts from an assortment of people, they didn’t know him. His sister, Toya, An, Kohane, and oddly enough, their other friends. Ena’s friends; a second-year named Kanade Yoisaki and an unknown number. Toya’s friends; Saki and Tsukasa Tenma, and Rui Kamishiro. (he regretted speaking to him this morning, he knew, Akito could tell he knew, and knowing was horrifying) He barely even knew most of their names. He wasn’t anything to any of them.

The stars in the sky outlast the ones who have fallen to the ground.

They were all just people. There were other people, the friends of his own friends and family, who he had shared one or two conversations with in his life and who barely knew of his existence. Toya, An, Kohane, were his friends. People he had shared his life and passions with. They were the three people in his life who he could comfortably be around on bad days, but even they couldn’t help him navigate his own stupidity and regrets.

Akito felt like there were people he was forgetting. Maybe it was a place? A thing? Something bizarre, but a key to who he was as a person. He hated himself for forgetting.

He stared at his phone, thumbs twitching between apps before he decided to click on Twitter. An was talking about a post a fan made about them. Maybe it would make him feel less, horrible, (nothing ever would,). He found the tweet on his timeline with upwards of a hundred thousand likes, and attached was a photo of two fans posing with An and Kohane in front of the cafe that Akito and Toya were eating at.

He inspected the photo, and suddenly regretted ever sitting at a stupid window seat. He damned the fan’s phone for having such a detailed camera, must’ve been an android or something, because in the background you could see clear and vivid tears rolling down Akito’s face as he sat with Toya in their window seat. If it were just him and Toya wasn’t also obvious in the picture, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad. But Toya was easy to identify. He lit up rooms, he lit up the sky, Akito swore the angels would be jealous of Akito for being so lucky to be graced by Toya’s presence.

He clicked on the tweet, and saw that Kohane, or most likely An, had retweeted the post from their group’s twitter account– no wonder it had millions of views in the analytics. The replies to the tweet were full of different responses.

stelle !! ✧˖° @STERE0T4PE

━  OH MY GOD I JUST MET KOHANE AND AN FROM @VividBADSQUAD ??? MY FRIENDS AND I WERE JUST GOING TO THE MALL WTF
–▼ attached image

➥ (76.3k) ♡︎ (105.8K) 

shoe @suujin : how is an so gorgeous how is she real

➥ (22k) ♡︎ (8.2K)

ELISE @kazuh.a : is that akito and toya in the background? is akito crying or smth :(

➥ (7.1k) ♡︎ (13.8K)

marc @leons_jfk : OOMF UR LITERALLY LIVING MY DREAM?? congrats but when is it my turn hdskfkhfkbhkn,,,,,,,,

➥ (209) ♡︎ (9.4k)

lin @catnoin : bro akito is crying?? like ugly crying?? toya is comforting him?? akitoya real ig but anhane better – ▼ attached image  

➥ (19.6k) ♡︎ (23.5K)

xia @loweronesballs : HELP AKITO’S CRYING?? act deserved

➥ (9.6k) ♡︎ (4.1k)

loser @aiondori : i fucking hate akito why is he so silly

➥ (1) ♡︎ (3)

Slyvie <3 @Mikuday0u : Hot take but why is it so funny to see akito cry lmao??

➥ (463) ♡︎ (703)

lai | on limit @chengxiaoshikisser: why are u all so horrible let akito rest ? he’s just a guy sdfknfkn

➥ (8.2k) ♡︎ (24k)

There were other comments, thousands of them, but Akito wanted to do nothing more than look away from them. 

He always understood that he would never be enough for this world and the people in it. How his voice would crack on the notes he sang, how the crowd parted when he passed through the streets because his existence was too heinous to be around. He would always be a stupid little kid living through dreams that wouldn’t come true. His whole life he had tried so hard to become something else. Day after day, week after week, even if he hated it, he would at least try.

“I hate you,” Akito whispered. He dropped the arms that held his phone, and he stared at the white nothing on his ceiling. “You can’t do anything. You’re nothing–” and his voice broke. He pulled his hands to his face and let warm tears drip onto his hands. For what must’ve been the millionth time that day, Akito let himself cry. It comes and goes, but it’s never fully gone. it will never leave, it will always bleed, and when the world stops to sing, the stars will start to sink.

“I’m so pathetic. God, what is wrong with me? I can’t do anything and I can’t make anyone happy and I’m just so mean and loud and stupid. I don't want to keep doing this. Stop thinking, for the love of God, please just let me stop thinking. Stop sobbing, just stop crying, stop being so fucking ridiculous, and just give up already,” Akito begged to no god in the world. He didn’t beg to anybody but himself. A sinner didn’t have the right to do anything but that. 

“It doesn't matter what you do, Akito Shinonome. Get over it.” He continued to berate himself. "You’re nothing," he weakly muttered. Akito wheezed out a pained and brutal laugh, tears falling further down his face. It was a disgusting feeling. The saliva being sputtered out of his mouth, the snot running from his crying and the tears being spliced with the sweat holding onto the sides of his face. He was gross. He was filthy.

“You’ve never been anything. It’s not a horrible thing. Just don’t be stupid about it. You’re nothing to them all, you shouldn’t be anything to them. You don’t deserve that right.” The scars and ugly marks on his body were proof of that. He was just something that deserved to be destroyed. He was whispering it all while he faced his wall and curled into a pathetic ball on his side.

It would be nice to cut deep enough so that he could pry into his flesh and look inside of his body. Maybe then he’d find what he’d been desperate for all his life.

Akito swiped his face dry with a damp sleeve from the crying, but liquids just trailed down more. He was a sick and infectious boy to anyone who came near him. His family was the first to succumb to his sickness, falling at the biggest cough of germs he spread to them. His old friends, old teammates, were the second to fall. Luckily, they were able to get away before he could ruin them any more.

His new friends, his family, the people he loved more than anything else in the world.

It was pointless.

It was all pointless. He was pointless.

He’d spent his whole life trying to be better; trying to be something else. He was chasing after something different. A different life. But it was so impossible.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do any of it.

When he was younger, he promised himself he would push through anything that stood in his way.

Akito Shinonome could never keep his promises.

Chapter Text

Ena hadn’t come to wake him up, he first noticed when he opened his eyes. As if it were a surprise, his negligence far succeeded his contributions to her. She was probably still asleep, bright sun peeked out from behind his window and he could tell it was already midday.

His father asked him to set alarms– to find within himself the will to fix the mess he’d put himself in, and he had fallen asleep before he even had the chance. School would have been over by the time he actually got ready and pulled himself out of the mess he burrowed into on his bed. The stupid cycle of self-pity led him to this decay. This mantra, repeated, over, and over, His head wasn’t pounding anymore. He was more sober and physically rested than yesterday. There was less in his head, but it still felt like too much. His body would never stop feeling heavy, and his brain would never stop feeling.

He sighed and looked down. In his sleep, his sleeves hiked up a few inches and he could see the scars in his skin wrapping around his bones. He could see the old ones, the ones that were deep enough to leave scars over a centimetre wide with raised or wrinkled skin. He could run his fingers over some and they’d stop his fingers in their tracks. The deeper ones from previous nights seemed to be in the process of healing back together, and they were either darker than dried blood or still a hazy blood colour from their inability to heal properly. The newer cuts had yet to scab over. 

Some seemed to soak and spread through his skin like paint scattered on a canvas. Some deeper and bolder strokes that acted as a vessel for his days, and some lighter in hesitance towards the idea of sharp pain. They flowed like silk throughout his limbs, but they never felt like enough. He pressed down on the largest scars where his skin split apart and retracted into either direction, leaving the flesh beneath his skin to surface. He felt a jolt run up his arms with the biggest ones, almost as if electricity was running through his nerves.

Akito loved the scars on his limbs. The cuts that he inflicted upon his own body existed for a reason– to demolish any sort of lingering thoughts in his head, leaving nothing but relief behind. It seemed like every day he craved the pain and the comfort of the blade he brought to his arms and legs, but he always sought something deeper.

Something stronger, something more than scabs that would eventually fade away into the pale of his skin. 

It was dark in the room, a cloud passed by the sun and was dimming the light he was given on the side of the house. It was dark, and he felt it melt into his limbs, infest his mind, and he wanted to hide from the feeling.

He needed something to help him feel again. In the end, it wouldn’t matter what he felt. It would always lead back to the same world he tried to escape.

Akito pulled himself out from under the bed covers that were damp from sweat and looked around his room, digging into drawers, looking into his closet, and pulling random shit off his shelf in case it was hidden. He ignored the things on the floor, like the papers and the letters and the blood and clothes and his throat was dry and he just wanted something. 

“Where is it? It’s gotta be somewhere, Jesus.” Akito’s hands ran over the surfaces in his room, objects falling to the floor and had it not been for the copious amounts of clothes cushioning them, things would have shattered.

The drawers that he tipped and pulled out in search of a measly drink had scattered papers all over the floor. Some were cleanly folded, others were crumpled and ripped and torn in a dozen different places. They were letters; letters Akito had rewritten over and over and over again. Just in case. Just in case he left. He couldn’t leave everyone without a few words, and he was too terrified to say anything to their faces.

His phone clattered to the floor in the commotion, and he bent down to pick it up– a shiny bottle flashed in his eyes from under the bed. Akito let out a heavy sigh and reached for it, unscrewing the cap and bringing the glass to his lips. He tilted back the bottle and watched the translucent brown waves crash down the sides of the glass. A bitter and unpleasant taste entered his mouth, the alcohol pouring rapidly down his throat like he was on a deserted island and hadn’t consumed liquid in ages.

He paused to take a breath.

Yesterday sucked. Today would be a better day. It had to be.

He’d go and say sorry to Toya, and go to school the next day. He’d clean his room, practise for his dreams, finish his missing homework, call his dad and apologise, order Ena a cheesecake or two in search of forgiveness, slice through his limbs to make it easier, and he would live.

He could self-destruct and act in the way that was completely expected of him. Like a mishap that caused a bomb to implode in on itself and only itself. There was an urge, a recklessness– a responsibility to destroy everything that had ever been established for himself.

But he could also fix himself now, because he’d already fucked up so much that it’d be beyond selfish to continue on the way he was.

He might as well make the most of this life. ‘This precious life he was given.’ The life he was destined to destroy and ruin. It wasn’t fair to anyone else to keep hiding. But wasn’t he just hiding from the truth? Wasn’t it infinitely more selfish to act as if he deserved to live around them? As if he deserved to continue breathing?

And, this feeling (he still couldn’t put it into words,) was something that he could get out of again. He always had. He could do it now. He had to do it now. Yesterday was just a bad day. He couldn’t let himself slip back into that… life. Had he ever even left it?

He sat for a few minutes, alternating between taking swigs of the bottle and staring at the mess in his room. The alcohol wouldn’t take effect for a while, so he pulled himself up, but his whole body only swayed when he stood and his vision blurred. Maybe he miscalculated; had the alcohol already seeped into his bloodstream? Or perhaps it was his lack of water or lack of food. Food, yeah food. He was hungry. He needed food.

He set the bottle on his desk before realising that there wasn’t any harm in bringing it down with him while he cooked something that would probably end up horrible. He managed to walk down the stairs without much difficulty and set the bottle onto the counter. His parent’s bedroom door was open and there was nobody in there. His mom and dad were both gone. It was just him and Ena now.

The refrigerator was practically empty when he opened it. The pantry was nearly gone as well. He had the whole day to fix things, he might as well fill it with something to prepare himself to stay inside for an undetermined amount of time. The grocery store was only a block away, and he had more than enough money from his part-time job to pay for groceries. The job he hadn’t shown up to in weeks and the job that he definitely didn’t have anymore. He already threw away everything he ever had. Like it was all nothing. Why didn’t he stop already? Why is he even trying? He was supposed to stop. It was supposed to stop. Akito took another swig of his drink before he pocketed his keys and made his way out of his house, making sure the door was locked and that Ena was safe being alone in the middle of the day.

It was sunny out, but there were a ton of clouds blocking sunlight from bearing down too intensely on him. It was the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, so the corner store was pretty empty aside for a few older people. Solid thoughts took longer to process in his mind and his skin prickled with sweat from the warm day and he wished he could roll up the sleeves from his disgustingly sweaty jacket to alleviate the heat swamping his arms. They would frighten at the sight of his bones.

Akito walked over to the coolers in the back of the store where the dairy and poultry products were preserved. He stared at the cartons of milk, hands rifling through different versions of 2% that had the latest expiration date. Ena would need it when he left her alone. She wouldn’t be able to buy groceries for herself after what Akito was inevitably going to do. There was no denying it. September 20th, September 23rd, September 24th at the latest– he really didn’t get why it had to vary so much.

Right when he pulled away from the coolers, he noticed a shorter girl who looked to be around his age, wearing a baby blue cardigan with a purple head of hair. Everything about her was so neat, but when Akito looked down into her eyes, he felt lost in what he found– lost in a clarity that felt new to her soul.

A name danced on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to recall the name of the girl. He tore his stare away from her and began to locate a new aisle with other groceries he needed, but the girl’s voice entered his ears before he could do so. “Akito Shinonome? You’re Enanan’s younger brother, aren’t you? She shows us photos of you all the time.” her soft and oddly grainy voice spoke into the world. Ena speaks about me? Who was this girl? The way her eyes moved when she spoke, and her mouth turned up into small relief. They had never even met, but Akito felt like he could connect his heart to hers with the arteries that pumped blood through their systems, and they could continue living.

“Me? Is this Enanan another name for Ena, or something? Uh, you’re probably one of her friends, right?” Akito nervously asked. Perhaps this girl was one of the friends Ena talked to online? She didn’t have many in-person friends, anyways.

“Yes, you’re definitely him. I’m Mafuyu Asahina, but Enanan calls me Yuki,” Asahina said. Her voice was inquisitive but not prying, but he still felt her latch onto his skin and claw into his essence.

Yuki, like snow? He nodded back at her. “Shouldn’t you be in school right now? You seem like you’d be a model student, not someone who skips classes.” Something about Asahina felt so… off-putting, in a way. Akito couldn’t tell what type of person she was. Was she kind to Ena? Did she see the world in the same way as Ena? Did she have a similar life at home?

Or was she like him? Did she run from it all, too?

“My mother and I are feeling quite under the weather, so I stayed home to care for her. I’m out to get groceries to cook a stew for dinner.” Her eyes lit up in a curious gaze, but her curiosity almost felt restrained. She leaned ever-so-slightly closer to him, as if she was staring into his face and making her own guesses about him.

“Shouldn’t you be at school as well? Or are you sick as well?” Asahina emphasised. Sick– she was peering more and more into the rot that made his soul. Sick. He was not sick. He was not sick.

Today would be better. This is where I fix things.

“My mom is also feeling unwell. My father is out of town, and you probably know how Ena is, so I’m watching over her while she’s sick,” he lied through his teeth. He strained his voice to pitch it up ever so slightly, shoving a rising cough down his throat and swallowing thickly. Sick. 

“I see. I suggest you do not overwork yourself so much, you’re looking worse than my bedridden mother right now,” she said, trying to lighten up the mood. The two of them stared awkwardly at each other, Akito lifting his lips up into an unconvincing smile he couldn’t pretend anymore and cleared his throat before he was interrupted by Asahina, who had been staring at him too oddly to be normal.

“Ignoring it doesn’t help anybody, let alone yourself. It does nothing but make things worse.” She looked into him like she knew the secrets of his head, of his world, of his passions.

Her eyes pierced into his body. Stare into me, the past facilitates greed.

And yet, she was wrong about it all. She had to be.

“Sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m just here to collect some groceries, that’s all.”

That’s all.

When she said nothing, Akito continued, he dug himself out, out, out. “I’m not running from anything. I’m okay, I’m allowed to live.” The scars wrapping beneath my clothes say otherwise. My sighs linger in the atmosphere,

That’s all.

“Who said anything about living?” Her words were nearly silent, but held a knowing tone that struck him to his core.

What does living even mean?

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Shinonome-san.” She blinked, and turned, and left Akito standing there, to breathe, to live, to die.

The idea of someone knowing the things even he himself was afraid to confront was the most terrifying thing in the world.

He left the store without buying any milk.

|

Every road he crossed spun and twisted in a way where his eyes and ears hurt just thinking about it. 

At least there was no reason for him to think right now. I’m allowed to live. That’s all.

The sun was so loud. Its incessant shining was loud.

By the time he got home it had taken an hour longer than he originally planned since he had taken a quick ( slow ) stop by Vivid Street for some midday pick-me-ups that he had stashed many nights previous. Bottles clunk in one hand, a nearly shredded brown paper bag of random shit in his other hand, and his keys were clenched between his teeth. He walked clumsily into his kitchen. 

The counters were a mess with the things his dad had strewn out the night before. He dropped his bags on the surface and swept everything else to the side with a long drag of his left arm.

He walked in front of the stove he just cleaned that was stuck in the same pristine state, pushing in and twisting the knob until flames flickered and ignited.

The pan he cooked with yesterday was still on the stove, and he picked it up to drop in the sink. He bent down and pulled out a fresh pan from the drawers below the stove.

The knife from yesterday was still on the floor.

He picked it up and put it in the sink full of dishes only used by him.

Was he the only vessel to ravage through these walls? His soul lingered in the walls and they were nowhere to be found;

The pan on the stove was above the fire, he quickly pressed his palm to the metal to test how warm it was. Light pain burgeoned from the brief touch.

He started cooking, because his body required something to fuel it. He was going to fix himself, right? He’d fix himself today, and the next day would be easier. Ignoring it doesn’t help anybody.

Every interchangeable sip he took from the bottles around him and his attention on the food created a completely incomprehensible mess of foods that nobody could really eat unless they were on the brink of collapsing from starvation. Akito couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He only took a bite out of every dish he made, and he recklessly stirred up a new… concoction whenever he decided the last thing he made was gross. There was something that convinced him to keep going– to not stop cooking and creating. Because even if it was utter garbage, it proved that he existed. Nobody else within these echoes could hear his succumbing. It proved that there he existed and he wasn’t just running.

Even if its existence only affected himself, and never anybody else in the whole world.

When the cooking got tiring, he cleaned up the mess of a kitchen he had half a mind to just leave there, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make Ena or his mom clean up his own mistakes.

There was much to do, and yet nothing at all. A freshly opened bottle sat in his hand, and he cozied up in the blanket he had on his bed. So much to do, and yet nothing at all. Akito was going to fix his missing homework, his school, his family, his friends, his band, his job, his responsibilities, his presence. He was going to. He had to.

He was going to do it.

But his bones felt too heavy and the words Asahina said to his face aggravated his mind.

He was going to do it. He was going to die by his own hands.

(someday, i will grow wings and fly out of this place, no more will i have to run, for i can soar through the skies. boil my soul, bloody my hands. rip out the locks that chain me down to this very earth. and when the birds swim through the clouds, they’ll swear the angels pass through their doubts, and when the sky gets too grey, the earth will offer asylum to their maydays. the world will melt. i’ll shiver and laugh, singing, silly me, i want it, want it back. embrace, my warmth is fragile, i see it in your reflecting eyes when the sky gets too grey. my kingdom. my solace, is kind.)

His eyes drifted to dozens of different things.

Remind me again of this feeling, someday.

The white on his walls, the greyness of his curtains. 

The red he began to recreate on his arms and legs to add more to the graveyard of marks on his body.

The colour of the flesh inside his body that was exposed to the world after long, deep, drags.

The colour of the sky outside as it faded to orange. And how the reds and pinks turned into purples and blues and blacks.

Everything felt like he was just an outsider looking into a window they had no business peering inside of. This world was everybody's but his own, and there was nothing to convince him otherwise.

He felt so alien even then, laying alone in his room and sunken into a hazy mess of consciousness and drifting. Like a floating body, but he was still solidly tucked into his blankets. It felt impossible to breathe, but he would feel the same even if he had an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

He felt everything and nothing all at once. He did not feel when he fell asleep, nestled into the bed and hiding his body like somebody was going to take it away from him– take away his ticket to life; the ticket that grounded him and gave him the existence he possessed on this Earth.

Akito did not feel it. He did not feel anything at all, ignoring the pleas within his body for somebody to make it all stop.

He could get to fixing his life later.

|

“Akito. Akito. Akito, what did you do? Akito, please– please what did you do – ” Ena’s voice frantically pushed out. It seemed like she was having a hard time stabilising her own breaths, even while she was trying to comfort her brother over something she had no idea about. Her arms were patting her twelve year old brother’s shoulders, and she peeled the sticky blanket off his curled up figure. Footsteps from far away became louder and louder. 

He was crouched in a dark closet, hands covering his ears and eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out everything happening around him. Ena was trying her best to pry his hands away from himself to prevent him from getting even more hurt, but it was a futile attempt. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane and everything Ena did seemed to make it worse than it was before. 

He shouldn’t have said it; Akito didn’t ever mean to do any wrong, not at all, but his father always saw it as a malicious attempt to ruin what he had built up. Fear erupted in every bone in his body, but he couldn’t empty the thoughts in his head. This was his own doing. 

The footsteps got louder, a hand on the doorknob from outside.

“I told him I don’t wanna do art anymore.” He lifted his prodigious hands from his body.

And Ena’s body froze.

Betrayal riddled her face as it twisted into an unsanctimonious disgrace. “You… what?”

“Is everything alright in here?” the sibling’s mother called from behind the door. A pause, Ena staring into Akito’s eyes, and then, “Ena? Akito? You guys in here?” a more masculine voice asked. A flinch, and a deep intake of breath. Even with everything, Akito could still recognize the voice from a mile away. Suddenly, as if the world spun upside down, Akito’s movements ceased and he stood up, carefully avoiding Ena in his path to the door. The doorknob twisted to the right, and the door was pushed open. Here it comes. All he could do was accept it.

Akito’s eyes opened wearily, sticky with crust and his orange hair stuck to every bit of skin around them. His head throbbed slightly, but when he moved to push himself up he felt so dizzy and winded that he immediately fell onto his back. His head fell to a point where he could see outside his window. The sky outside was now a dark blue, with speckled stars spanning every inch of the sky and showcasing a bright moon in the centre of it all.

His grey curtains were drawn closed, and he immediately knew someone had been in his room; they were open when he was awake and he definitely was sure that they were open when he was awake. He knew it was Ena who did it– had it been his mother, she would’ve been screaming and yelling for multiple reasons. The mess of his room would be small in comparison to everything else: the bottles scattered around any surface that could be seen, the concerning amount of likely rotting food (or at least soon to be rotting), and the blood stained onto his mattress and dirty bed sheets that he couldn’t be bothered to clean. He was supposed to fix this.

Yikes, Ena might've seen all of that. But Akito couldn’t bring himself to care. Why care, when nothing would even be done about it? There was nothing else different about his room, Akito was just curious as to why Ena was in his room in the first place. She wouldn’t ever wake up without him getting her to do so, and especially when she was supposed to be up before the sun was down– oh. That’s why Ena hadn’t woken him up earlier.

In the midst of all of his self-pity, Akito had forgotten to wake his sister up in return for her doing it for him. Everything about their relationship was a give-and-take, so if Akito didn’t do something for her, it would be very unlikely that she would do something for him. He hadn’t been taking care of his sister like a good brother would, and it was all because of the wallowing he indulged himself in. He was supposed to fix it, to change these things, but he fell flat against the idea of it.

Even after his sleep, his bones were still as heavy as before, and he could spend thousands of hours walking through different doors to see what he could change, but 

He Couldn't Keep Running From It.

There was nothing he could do to Actually Care. And if he didn’t care, why not care even less? Akito grabbed his phone from off the charger and opened it up for the first time that day, despite it being nearly eleven pm.

Immediately at the bottom of his screen he saw hundreds of red text message notifications on the messages app, and with a deep breath, he opened the app. His screen glitched for a moment because of the sheer amount of texts that were still popping up. The same people from before were messaging and calling him, but a certain text from the unknown number he saw yesterday caught his eye.

Unknown Number: Hello, Shinonome-san. This is Mafuyu Asahina, a friend of Ena’s. She asked me to see how you are holding up, in hopes of you answering to someone that you aren’t close to. 
          (yesterday at 8:26 pm)

Is that what she was talking about by ignoring it all? Ignoring anybody else who looked to help him? Akito changed the contact name to Asahina, and continued to scroll through the messages she sent him.

Asahina : After today, I can see why your sister has been worried about you. If there is anything that I can do to help your current situation, reach out. I’ve found that having other people by my side helps more than it hurts.
          (today at 2:30 pm)

Ena has been worried about me? There was no reason for someone like her to stoop down so low.

Akito dropped his phone to the floor in frustration; how was he supposed to respond to that? 

Help me dare to live ?

He pulled himself out of his bed and looked around the mess of his room. Clothes covering practically every inch of the floor, bottles and cups everywhere, the stale smell that permeated the whole room. Everything made him want to go back to sleep and just stop having to deal with every problem ever. It was horrifically unmotivating to look at, but the disgust in himself overrode every sense of laziness he had.

He took another sip from the bottle closest to him and he let the liquid burn down his throat, not caring about the taste. He just let the liquid take control and melt everything away. After a few moments of consideration, he made his way downstairs to grab large trash bags that he could throw clothes and garbage into, and he grabbed large trays that he could put his plates on.

It was hard to not fall back onto his face when climbing up the stairs; the drunkenness of his body pulling him seemingly underwater. It felt like everything was just an autonomous response– something his body was being programmed to do by an external source. He didn’t feel like Akito Shinonome.

He felt himself clean up the large objects around his room and time passed by, but he wasn’t sure. How much time, he didn’t know, but he saw that his floor was much cleaner now— it was a livable space again. He saw it, he knew it, but did he really? Everything was fine. Everything was the same. What was there left for him,

He could hear how his heartbeat thumped. He was alive. What more was there that they wanted? He picked up small objects around his room.

Each held a breath of his life– a whisper– that he couldn’t remember.

A history.

A past.

Memories.

He thinks, at least.

But then again, how would Akito Shinonome ever know? This wasn’t Akito Shinonome, no, someone else was Akito Shinonome.

The room was cold, he thought. Or, he thinks he thought.

Wasn’t it always cold? Ena always liked the house cold

Dad let her keep it that way even if he preferred the warmth

Ena was born to be Dad’s decanter for art. Red, aged wine dripping into his glass of generational talent. Dad was blinded by the luxury of Akito’s liquor, but nothing could truly beat the original red. The red that poured the very essence of soul and heart and passion– Akito’s effort burst into larger flames but died out just as soon as they started. Ena’s would never burn up and die.

In his hand was a baseball signed with a scribbled name in black ink. He recalled a baseball game, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was from.

He looked around and his breathing was light, mouth slightly ajar in a room that suddenly felt too big for him.

On the wall. A painting. A normal sized paper with bright watercolour splattered all over it in intricate patterns. It was beautiful. Who made it? Surely it was not Akito Shinonome. Akito Shinonome could never create anything

Inside an open drawer were papers. Letters. Letters? To whom? The words were jumbled and messy and the ink from the pen that wrote them smudged and dyed from what looked like droplets that bled onto the page. Why were they smudged?

A trophy on a wooden desk. Whose was it? It had a football on its top, and a 1st place sign underneath. Who won? Not Akito Shinonome. Never Akito Shinonome. A 2nd place trophy stood beside it on the end of the shelf

To his right. Some floor length mirror. From it, the boy could see a person standing there. The dark of the room barely made the figure perceivable. He raised his hand to where his face would be on his own body. The boy in the mirror did the same. Who was Akito Shinonome?

He stepped away from the mirror to sit down on his bed, full trash bags lining his walls on the floor. He still saw bottles on tables, full with murky liquid that tasted like bittersweet fire. What was real? What existed in reality?

Was Akito Shinonome more than just an empty body who–

He stood up; it was hard to breathe sitting down. He began to pace sluggishly around the room. It was dark. The blood from his exposed wrists dripped uncomfortably to the floor. He saw it, he noticed it. He took a finger and smeared the blood. Blood? It was red, tasting like iron and clung to his index finger when it dried. Powdery when oxidised and crumbled, leaving distasteful smears behind. Sometimes it was smooth, sometimes it was rough. Sometimes he wanted it to bleed more.

Like a siren’s call, glory and release reached out for him but only at the hands of a blade. An effect; a life spent brutalising his own skin.

Akito Shinonome, it called out. Eternity it showed, ever-present in the life of his own.

The sharp drag of a blade, slicing through his skin, was the one thing that kept him in one piece. Ironically, the more he shredded, the more he knew his name was Akito Shinonome.

Because the realisation that Akito Shinonome was not destined for happiness was one that everyone in the world could recognize at a single glance.

What was there other than pain? His hands reached into a drawer beside him whatwashelookingfor–

As the boy dragged something sharp and recognizable across his limbs, (it would never be enough,) a laugh tumbled out of his mouth, with more following suit. Like the open etches on his skin, his mouth poured with blood…? Was it blood? Everything was blood. The dark room became crimson with blood. Red dripped down the walls and onto the trash bags, the light coming from out of his window became red. 

Red, red, red, red, red.

A haze.

It covered all. Like a violent and horrific crime.

For it was a crime that Akito Shinonome existed, and that his blade could not go deeper. It was a crime that the boy’s name was Akito Shinonome.

Think of me kindly, melancholy rising.

|

“Akito? What the fuck? Oh my god— Jesus christ , fuck, fuck—” Akito recognised the voice, it was higher pitched but abrasive and loud as if it were screaming, ‘ I’m here! Look at me, please! ’ A small smile pulled up on his lips in recognition of the person speaking to him. He dropped the tiny and rusting pencil sharpener blade that he unscrewed to use for his own purpose from his hand.

Everything made Akito feel delirious. His head pounded and his cool air from the opening sweep of the door made his arms feel like they were getting stabbed and prodded at. Arms… he looked at Ena, her eyes wide and horrified. They were no longer stuck on him ( why was she looking at him in the first place ?) but now on the empty cups and cans and bottles around the room.

Oh.

She rushed into the room, grabbing hold of Akito by pulling him off of the floor by the shoulder. The room spun when she pulled him up, and he fell against his bed right next to him.

Small laughs slipped from Akito and Ena lightly slapped his cheeks to snap him out of it. His breaths were light and shallow, and Ena frantically pulled him up again.

“Please, please, Akito, you need to get up. Let’s go to the bathroom, I’ll clean up the… blood. Please, I can’t carry you,” she desperately cried. Get up? Akito can get up. In his life, he’d heard her cries and pleads and begs more times than he would’ve liked.

He slipped off the edge of his bed, and his steps were woozy and clumsy and he seemed to tip all over the place because of his height, but Ena helped him out of his room. His legs shook when he climbed up, and he felt drops trail down his thighs from underneath the red-stained boxers he wore. Only a few steps down the hall and to the left was the bathroom they shared; Akito dragged himself against the wall to get into the bathroom, Ena helping him in gently. It was too difficult to remain standing so Akito slid ungraciously down the wall in front of the sink.

Ena acted fast, eyes filled to the brim with tears threatening to fall, but she grabbed the nearest clean towel and wet it to begin cleaning her younger brother up. Akito didn’t get it. Why was she crying? Was it because of him? But he didn’t do anything that he didn’t deserve.

“Don’t cry… ‘m not worth it…” Akito slurred when she ran her hands under the sink faucet to test the temperature. Her trembling shoulders and back were facing him on the floor and he couldn’t see her face. She turned, and looked him dead in the eye, and he saw tears ricochet down her face. “No… don’t say that,” she said, coming down to him and softly applying the perfectly warm damp towel to the still bleeding slits on his wrists. Whenever she pulled the towel away from his arms, blood spots reappeared just as fast as she wiped them up. Akito saw her gag when she lifted his arm up, inspecting the slashes from years ago and earlier on in the day.

The process continued with Ena going back and forth between both of his open arms, his left shoulder with a large gash, the deeper cuts on his legs, and the sink to clean off as much blood from the cloth as possible. The pain was numbing. Akito didn’t remember where any of them came from. The flood was fresh and didn’t cease entirely, but it slowed down from the pressure of Ena’s hands. Everything was a fuzzy obscurity and Akito stared blankly at the ceiling. It was white and clean without anything staining or ruining it, opposite to his entire existence.

“All done,” E na said when she finished tightening gauze and medical tape around his thinning limbs. Tiny drops of blood soaked through the thick layers, but it didn’t seem to be as bad as before. He hadn’t even noticed she was wrapping him up in the first place. An exhausted sigh left her mouth as she plopped next to Akito on the tile floor, her knees pulled up to her chest as her head leaned on his right shoulder. The two of them sat in a deafening silence for a few moments, Akito’s mind and attention falling on the most random and irrelevant things.

The game he played, about criminal teenagers in a dystopian city trying to achieve justice against their wrongdoers. The anime An told him to watch, about a girl whose crush turned out to be a famous mangaka. A random conversation he had with his mom five years ago about her crafts and art hobbies. Something the news said about an earthquake in a foreign country that ended the lives of hundreds.

They sat, recalling every memory they ever shared together. Everything they’ve ever done, ever said, ever thought. Everything that had to do with the other, everything that had to do with their family. Their lives were interconnected and would never be ripped apart.

They would just rather die than admit their reliance on each other.

When I die, whether it be tomorrow or next century, I want you to follow your heart. Do not find your demise as you walk the world beneath your feet.

“When did you start doing it?” She asked, her voice meeker than Akito could ever remember it being. What? Start doing what? There were many answers he could’ve given. “Start what?” His voice was quiet, barely above a mutter.

“You idiot… When did you start hurting yourself? When did you start drinking like a depressed salaryman? When did you stop caring about everything? When did you decide to give it all up?” She whispered, her voice rising in a confused frustration as her questions became more rapid.

“I haven’t given up, Ena.” She just looked at him with wet eyes. Death has been what I’ve worked towards. I’ll never give up on that. I know it now.

Akito didn’t have a specific answer to her questions, and yet he had all of them. He knew the dates of when he started each of those things, but why did Ena care about it? “Why does it matter? Nothing you can really do. ” His voice was thick and tongue was heavy. He looked back up at the ceiling.

“Please tell me, Akito. I saw the scars all over you, a lot were old and most were new , but that just means that something that made you this way. Please— just, tell me– ” she pulled away from him and practically yelled in his face.

“Doesn’t matter. Never has,” Akito said, looking her dead in the eye.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! You-You’re my little brother. I’m sorry I was bad all these years, but you’ve been scaring me recently…” She looked away and dropped her hands to the side. Ena looked back, and took a deep breath in. “Do you remember those times when we used to play together? When you got hurt on the sidewalks, I used to patch you up,” she laughed, “Even then, you never cried, you never whined, and whenever I wanted to do something, you did it without complaint. So please, even if it’s just this once, let me help—”

“Help? You can’t help. There’s nothing that can even be done,” Akito interrupted with a broken whisper that cracked into a whimper.

A tear ripped out of his wet eyes, and Ena looked in utter frustration. With a sigh, he pulled himself to his feet as best as he could without falling. “I’ve always been this way, Ena. It’s nobody’s fault but mine, all of it is me .” His voice was exasperated and tired and drunk. He pointed to his chest with a lazy hand. “Nothing you can do. Nobody you can ask for help , nobody you can talk to, not Toya , not my friends, not mom, and definitely not dad . This is just how I am and what I’m meant to be like. So just go back to how things were before, it’ll be okay.” He smiled weakly at her. “Go back to pretending like nothing ever happened and nothing was my fault and that I don’t exist .” He didn’t mean it, but his last sentence was brutal and sounded like a desperate cry; a plea.

He realised, now. This wasn’t something that he was meant to fix.

He pulled himself out of the bathroom, but not before catching a glimpse of Ena crying her eyes out on the tile. Akito shut himself in his bedroom before he ran back to the arms of the sister who he loved with every fibre of his being.

I’m sorry, Ena.

|

Akito forgot what it was like to feel full in the presence of other human beings.

He was always around someone, but he forgot what it was like to feel that joy and rush that came from being surrounded by laughter and people.

When he was younger, he remembered it. He knew it like he knew how to spell his name. He would win as a team with his football friends and celebrate at a cheap fast-food restaurant, he would walk home with his two closest friends after a long day of primary school and they would get a drink out of the vending machine with the 100 yen coins they saved up over weeks.

He started to forget what it was like when he got older. When his best friends became best friends with other people, when he was put into a different class than them, and the dozens of proximity friends he had became distant. What was friendship when you were only forced together as a last resort? He tried to reconcile, to rebuild the bridges that had been left to wither.

But Akito was alone on the island he exiled himself to.

He tried to make new friends, to become close to the people who already had groups of best friends, but it was all stupid. He stopped trying to invite people out to no avail, and he stopped doing more than having casual conversations about his day to anyone who was around.

When he turned ten, his life shifted when he first saw them perform on that stage. He would never turn back.

When he turned eleven, he stopped needing friends to be around. He had music. He had the people on the streets who supported him and who were invested in his rapid growth. His family stopped needing him, (he had casted them aside,) so he could devote everything to it.

When he turned twelve, he still didn’t need friends to be around. He had the new wounds on his body to care about and to let out his feelings to. His family still didn’t need him, and it started to hurt the more he thought about it.

When he turned thirteen, he tried again with the whole friends thing. He felt like the slashes on his body would serve as a protective barrier between himself and anyone who could possibly hurt him. People weren’t cruel, but they stopped holding him up and encouraging him in passing. He was just a regular around the block without anything special to him. The people he tried to befriend saw that. His family saw it and wished it was clear before everything fell.

When he turned thirteen, he met Toya. He hadn’t had a close friend or anyone to call a teammate in years. Toya was kind. Toya was strong. Toya was pretty. Toya was always there for him. Toya made him feel better when nothing else could– not even blood dripping from his skin. Akito was sure he loved Toya. Toya would introduce him to other people, different classmates, and helped Akito make friends outside of school. Toya would always listen to his late night thoughts about the stupidest things that came to his mind when he couldn’t sleep. Toya came to him before anyone else to talk about something exciting with. Akito and Toya would be together at all times of the day, and Akito didn’t need anybody else. His family was kind to Toya, too. Akito felt like things were changing for the better.

When he turned fourteen, his mother stopped coming home every night. It was only one month past his birthday when he stopped waiting to greet her in the living room at midnight. He started to run out of clean space on all of his arms and legs to dig something sharp into. His limbs suffered too, then.

When he turned fifteen, he and Toya combined with An and Kohane, who had already been a team for the past year. Toya had always been incredible, and he had seen An perform dozens of times, but Kohane was something else. Akito felt bitter jealousy pang in his heart on numerous occasions, but he never held it against Kohane. She was the newest to music and was simply incredible, and he was the one bringing down the team and preventing them from shining.

He would turn sixteen in a couple of months. He was supposed to, anyways. 

Akito would always question when he was younger whether or not time was real or something people just made up. When he was given an answer to his decades of questioning, it felt sad. Time was something that was defined by other people, and it was a basis for everyone else to follow so that important things weren’t missed. Time wasn’t real, it was just made up to structure society.

But if it wasn’t real, why couldn’t Akito live through his life at the beat of his own drum? Why was he pushed to walk so fast down the streets of one of the busiest cities in Japan, when it would be sweeter to take everything slowly to digest it all?

Change happened too quickly for Akito. Time was made for important things to exist and be highlighted on a calendar that would be half ripped apart by the end of the year. 365 days in a year, 366 on a lucky year, 12 months and 52 weeks to live until you become a year older. It was so little when the days passed by like nothing. Akito’s birthday and change of age just felt like touching a cold glass.

When every day was the same to him, Akito didn’t feel like caring about anything that happened.

He’d wanted to be the best for years. To surpass what was expected of himself and break free of the curse that came from his existence. He thought music would do the trick. He thought that if he poured his soul into music, into getting better at it and practising and dancing and singing, he would be happier. He thought that he could make something out of his life with music. But when he was writing lyrics to songs that would never be heard by other people, or when he was singing a dull and dead and flat tune while laying on his bed at three in the morning and staring at the white nothing on the ceiling, Akito knew that he was an idiot for thinking that he could’ve been something.

He tried. He really did; he tried for years. But sometimes it was easier to give up and admit defeat than to keep trying and ruin it all for everyone around him.

It wasn’t that he was bad at singing and dancing, it was just that he wasn’t all that great at it either. His voice was grating, too emotional to keep steady, and notes just didn’t sound right when he was pushing himself beyond his potential. He loved it. He loved the rush that came from standing on a stage and being seen through his painfully human lyrics.

He just hated the way everyone recoiled when his flame burned too brightly for their eyes.

He’d resigned to giving up a while ago. He just kept going because he wouldn’t have anything to live for otherwise. (though, he never did have anything good when he was the one to destroy it all)

It was just hard when every day he felt like giving up.

When every day, his body was less motivated to keep going.

When every day, it was just easier to be miserable and ignore all of the things that were supposed to make him feel better.

When every day, he had to come to terms with the fact that his life wouldn’t ever mean anything and everything was more challenging with him around.

He wanted to try for his friends and to make someone proud, but he knew nobody could ever be proud of someone like him. Not when he lived like a disgusting freak of nature.

Akito pulled out his phone and ignored the bright red notification symbols on various apps to play a game.

He wanted to ignore it all before he ended up a bloody mess.

|

It was cold. So, so, cold. Akito wrapped the blanket tighter around him, the light and noise from the buzzing TV in front of him filling in the nothingness that he felt. His fingers wrapped around the joysticks of his controller and mashed buttons in accordance with the video game on the screen. He took a large sip out of the glass beside him and he shook his head from the strong taste of it. He hated hard liquor, and hated the expensive stuff even more, but it was all his dad had in his cabinets and Akito just needed something to keep him warm and happy. His head was far too loud when he was sober. This wasn’t him,

His mom was out with her friends again, and Ena was holed up in her room right now. It had been almost two days since the incident with the two of them, and true to what he had asked of her, they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. Akito hadn’t stopped cooking food for Ena and his mom in a desperate attempt to make sure they took care of themselves. It was almost funny how much he neglected to care for himself in return for their well being.

He hadn’t gone to school since he ditched on Monday with Toya. There was no reason for him to continue existing in a crowd full of people. The only thing he had consumed was water, some fruits, and copious amounts of alcohol. Every other meal he cooked for his family sat cold on the kitchen counter, untouched since he made the meals hours ago. He hadn’t moved from his position on the living room couch, and rarely got up to do much more than to throw up the small instances of food he consumed or piss out the alcohol in his system. When his mom came home at night, he would always help her to bed and make sure the water in her shower was warm, and he would wash her sheets and clean her up if she was too far under the influence to shower.

Bottles were everywhere in the living room where Akito had resided for nearly the past week, but Ena and his mom didn’t care— they couldn’t care, and he knew that they wouldn’t even want to care. All he had by him was his TV and a laptop, his phone left completely dead and probably somewhere on the floor of his room. He scrolled through Twitter on his laptop, watching a million shows as if they had any relevant meaning to them, and thought about Toya more than he should’ve. He did his homework from the days he missed— made sure it was done online to the best of his abilities, he slept, he played games, he cooked, he cleaned, and he slept more.

He did all of the things that he told himself he’d do to fix things, and it was supposed to be okay again. He stopped running, but nothing changed. He couldn’t understand why.

There was an overwhelming boredom that Akito always felt and couldn’t seem to escape from. He tried to sing, but he couldn’t bear to hear the scratchy sounds his own dry throat produced. He played the guitar he hadn’t touched in months that was drifting under dozens of clothes on his bedroom floor. The year they met, Toya had convinced Harumichi to get him the guitar to improve the composition of their songs so they weren’t limited to the ‘trashy’ street music they made. 

Akito played the guitar every day for years, but something struck a chord inside him like a guitar that made him stop randomly. 

It was all just so sad. Every single day. Every single thing. He wondered if there’d ever be a world in which he could breathe without the sadness forcing its way through his skull.

But now, Akito could be away from everything that was supposedly making him sad. He didn’t have to worry about performances, or school, or his relationships. He could just play his guitar and sing for his ears alone and lay there like there was nothing more fun in the world.

It was a hollow existence. Outside of the things he routinely did to maintain whatever aspect of living that he had remaining, there was nothing else. Nothing to see, nothing to love, nothing to feel. It was only a few days without speaking to anyone that wasn’t Ena, but it felt like an eternal sentence that would plague him in the real world and his dreams. Dreams— Akito’s dreams had never been nice, but the dreams he’s been having for a while were nothing but cruel.

Akito moved his hand to itch the scratch that was ever present on his head from lack of cleanliness and grimaced from the smear he felt from the grease in his hair. The glow from the open laptop on the coffee table in front of him was polarising and blaring in his face as a reminder that there was always something to do, always something that he needed to get done. 

Everything he could bring himself to do had been done, he ordered a gift for his mother and he planned to pick up a cake the day of her birthday.

He decided that he would wait until after her birthday to kill himself. No matter what date it was, It wouldn’t be fair to his mom to have her birthday ruined by the new responsibilities he left to her. He took care of the house, of Ena, of herself, and every other responsibility that nobody else wanted to do. He couldn’t bring himself to throw his burdens onto his mother’s shoulders on her special day. But, after that, he could get away from it all. He could write every single one of his apologies and grievances on a thousand page letter that they would all discard instead of reading.

His thoughts were interrupted by steps thundering down the stairs in front of him, and he reached for the TV remote to turn down the volume. Ena’s hair swung into her face from the speed at which she descended the stairs, and her eyes seemed to take a moment to adjust to the scene of Akito’s mess and burrowing into the blankets on their couch.

She blinked and stared at Akito’s expectant face for a second before opening her mouth into a stutter. “Akito. I’m going out with my friends to a cafè tomorrow, and you’re coming with me, okay? So, like, clean up or whatever you have to do to be ready. I’ll tell you when we’re leaving tomorrow so… be ready.” What? Akito was going out with Ena’s friends? The ones he barely knew the names of? Before he could even respond, Ena ran back up the stairs as fast as she came down, leaving Akito no chance to turn down her… offer?

He didn’t know why she even invited him out. Years ago, she complained to their parents every time they had Akito go out with her and her friends. Did she just want him to get out of the house? Did she want him to interact with other, living, beings? But, he couldn’t even be upset with her forcing him out. She was everything to him, and this would be one of the last memories he ever shared with his older sister. He would be letting her down in a few days, and he couldn’t bear the idea of turning her down now. It was all that he could do for Ena now, useless as he was.

With a resolving sigh, Akito pulled himself to his feet and unwrapped the blankets tangled around him. He needed to do something, anything to make himself look approachable and like a normal human again. It was for his sister. The trek to the bathroom was like any other time he moved his body; long, winding, and dizzy as if he was caught in a cloud of fog. There was no direction.

One hot shower and likely a fistful of soap later and Akito’s hair was a lot softer than he had remembered it to have been recently. His fingers caught onto the scars on his arms, some clean and precise and others shaky and amateur. The hot water from the shower burned his freshly bleeding limbs. There was a difference between the ones that looked as though they could have been medically induced, and the ones that looked like a crazed maniac had swung a knife at his skin.

But it didn’t matter. It did the job. Small and thin or long and wide, the feeling of sharp and burning pain shooting up through his body was addictive like a drug he could never get enough of.

Ever since he started this path of blood, it was always on his mind. It was there lurking in something dark, and he wanted to burn any ounce of the negative emotions he felt into his skin. When the lines began to fade, he made newer ones. The excitement and adrenaline that came from the pain was the greatest remedy to the emotions he always felt. It hid and protected him like a blanket sheathed over his shoulders. But it was like a double edged sword. It invaded every second, he always wanted to rip his skin off his bones and flip it inside out. With his own bare hands.

Every time his eyes saw a blade or even just something sharp, his gaze seemed to linger. He felt like it called to him, calling to every substance in his bones. His cells, his DNA, the dirt he knew was crusted in every crevice of him. It was his soul, it was a part of him, it was him, and there was nothing else.

He knew it, everyone knew it.

There was nothing for him here, or there, or anywhere else at all.

Nobody there, nobody here, nobody ever. Lonely, he was there, he was always there. He wasn’t needed, he just tagged along and followed anybody and everybody.

This was him, this was his current life, this was the life he would always have, always maintain, the life that he would never stray away from. This was him, this was him. Bury me before my roots are planted in these grounds.

Akito Shinonome. Pathetic being completely obsessed with a life he’d never have. He came to terms with that fact the first time he ever wanted to die.

He came to terms with the idea of death and being forgotten when he ruined their lives all those years ago.

So maybe he wouldn’t fix himself. Maybe he was destined to die like this.

But he was okay with that.

This world was a beautiful one.

And Akito Shinonome just wasn’t destined to live in it.

He could dream a thousand lives, but they would never change the truth.

Maybe one day he would grow wings and fly away.

Chapter Text

The alarm of her phone was jarring and unnatural— she hadn’t been awoken by her own alarm in months, if not years. It was always Akito who was there to wake her from her sleep, not an alarm with a ninety percent chance she’d sleep through. But within the past week, Akito had been a lump of nothing laying on his bed like a coarse rock in the middle of a stream, letting his blankets and covers run over him like flowing water.

Completely incapable of opening his eyes and pulling himself out of bed, Ena was, for once, responsible entirely for herself. Every day she checked in on Akito, bracing herself for the worst. She always thought that one day she would swing open the door to her little brother frozen in place forever.

Akito… her little brother. He was born to be incredible, he was born to become the world. It had been ages since her family had fallen out, ages since they were volatile to him. Ena could remember how it fell like it was yesterday. A family of love and care and art and passion and living living living, turned into a family of nothing. A family of resentment, hiding and shying away from the love that lingered.

He was the one who she said she’d kill for and die for— but could she even say that? Even just a small reflection of how she treated him could disprove that.

She felt like a villain for not noticing it sooner, for not doing anything at all. Akito did everything for her without a single complaint, and even if they fought it was always Akito who apologised. Over and over, day after day, for the past few years ever since their parents became absent in their lives, it was Akito who did it for her. Every single thing, every little thing too, he did it.

He cleaned for her, cooked for her, ran errands and did chores for her, checked in on her, woke her up, and made sure she was always okay— Ena was only alive because of him. And the whole time– the whole time, Akito was always there for her. At a single message she sent him, the wave of her hand, the flick of her wrist, he came to her and did whatever she needed. Even after everything that happened.

And Ena did nothing for him, ever.

She saw the little things. The things like where he seemed too tired to stand sometimes, or how much effort he put into his music. How he stopped smiling as often, how he wouldn’t go out with his friends as much, how he would come home late and when she saw him he sometimes swayed. The sleeves he never seemed to ditch when he reached a certain age. She saw it, she saw all of it, but she did not see it. 

It never crossed her mind that something bigger was happening behind the way his eyes drifted off to the side whenever they spoke. She never even thought about how he went from a reactive and bright kid to a dull and passive boy in such a short time. He was different in every way, and she did nothing to lighten the load.

There was an undeniable pressure that had been haphazardly thrown onto his shoulders from a young age; their parents had quickly established that Ena was a fuck-up, and hence, pushed Akito to be even more than what they expected from her.

But there was also a certain point to which someone could be driven before they fell off the edge.

There was guilt. There was regret. There was fear. There was everything in Ena’s being that made her wish she noticed something sooner. There was a responsibility that she knew she had to take before she lost someone who she didn’t know if she could live without.

What would he do next? Would he continue to be okay with self-destruction, or was he thinking of something more? How deep did his turmoil run? Was it something that he was willing to die for in order to escape?

It had been years since she knew more than the surface level about Akito, but she needed to know. Ena needed to know what was wrong so that she could get him some help . She couldn’t be too late. It was hypocritical in a way, Ena of all people getting Akito mental help, but at least she wasn’t cutting her skin like Akito was. That was the scariest.

If someone was willing to bleed their skin dry, who was to say that he wouldn’t be able to go overboard one day?

Ever since the morning when Akito retreated back to his room leaving Ena in unforgiving sobs on the tile floor, it was impossible for him to leave her mind. Her father was too far gone, and her mother was basically absent as well, but watching Akito leave hurt more than both of her parent’s abandonment combined.

Ena was scared. Ena didn’t like being scared; even if he was the younger one, Akito would still do his best to cheer her up and squeeze out every ounce of fear from her mind. But now she was alone in this storm of turbulence, and it could be considered selfish, but Ena knew she couldn’t handle it alone.

Very few people were present in Ena’s life, Akito being one of the largest presences, even if they didn’t interact as often as they should have , but Ena’s safest place was with her friends where she could express emotions she kept wrapped around every nook of her existence. Like Akito, there was little that their parents would allow them to show. And Ena decided that melodies and art that transcend humanity were the best places for her to expel her forbidden emotions. She was lucky that all of her friends were just the same.

The first time the group met, it was in their Sekai; each of them hatching their plan to help Mafuyu. It’s the whole reason Kanade even began making music– to save people like her. Ena knew she wasn’t anything without what other people did for her. If she were to do this alone, Akito would never be pulled back to shore

And his soul was the most beautiful thing Ena had ever seen.

To leave it to die was the worst thing Ena could ever do.

|

There was a certain discomfort that comes with waking up. There was never anything more than the urge and wish to return to the comfort of the warm bed. He could pull himself out of bed, look himself dead in the eyes in his mirror whilst getting ready, and continue on with his day. But that took far too much effort, and Akito wished he could stay in his lump forever.

But he made a promise. He broke every, promise, ever, because he couldn’t bring himself to physically fulfil them but He Would Never Break Ena’s Promises. Or the ones he made to her and about her.

Ena was his everything; he could lose every friend, he could lose his parents and entire family line, he thinks he could even lose Toya, but he could never lose Ena.

It was hard to speak or cooperate or engage with her, but he would do it anyway.

She was his big sister, after all.

So Akito pulled himself out of the bed, and he brushed his teeth, and he lathered soap over the crusts forming in his cracked skin, and he smeared his face with concealer a different shade from his skin to hide his aching, and he ruffled his greasy hair up to look as though he was a living human.

He acted as if a million-ton weight was magically pulled off of his shoulders.

The walk with Ena to the cafe was silent, not necessarily tense, but uncomfortably silent for Akito. Ena would usually be talking to Akito, pointing things out from shops and talking about the things she wanted. But now, her eyes clung to her phone and all Akito could do was make sure she didn’t walk into anything and that they were going the right way.

The sun was bright outside. Akito had seen nothing but darkness for days on end. It took a while for his eyes to adjust; for him to be like a normal human being and not a person who doesn’t leave the house and deals with life as it passes him by as if he were an outsider.

His life wasn’t in his hands. Akito Shinonome couldn’t control his life— it was forever the responsibility of those around him to mold Akito like a wax creation. Shape him into the person they wanted. Keep others close but not close enough that they want to give him freedom. Would his body be preserved by their hands or scattered into the sea once he’s dead?

“Hey Akito? It’s nice out today, yeah?” Ena asked out of nowhere. Her eyes were pulled away from her phone, and they were gazing at the sky from their places underneath the shaded path. This world is beautiful. Ena’s hair swung lively when she turned her head to look at him. Lively. Ena was Alive. And Akito dared to stare right back at the living person, because he’d be a forgotten one sooner than later. “Yeah. It’s nice Ena.” And she smiled at him. And he felt a light lift up his shoulders and face into a small grin– his sister was with him and he was alive–No more would it last, for as long as he existed, Akito Shinonome could not exist in contentment.

Akito’s head felt thick, like he was swimming through quicksand and his oxygen was rapidly depleting. The days and weeks of non-stop drinking were finally catching up to him, but he didn’t feel regret, even at the sweat streaking down his face. He was tired, exhausted, even, but he wanted to do this for Ena. It would make her happier than ever, and it was the least he could do after weeks of neglecting what she needed.

Neglect. Oh– Akito could say he neglected both himself and Ena. And his mom, his friends, the entire world. Akito had so much he needed to give to others and he just Forgot About It.

Like it was nothing.

He always broke his promises.

(And Ena’s were his only saving grace from the dirt.)

When they arrived, Akito held the door open for Ena and he could hear the cheerful jingle of a bell when the door swung. Ena guided him to a circle table with… her online friends and Rui Kamishiro. Tsukasa Tenma also happened to be right by his side.

What the hell?

“Hey Ena, why are they here?” Akito asked, confusion obvious in his face. Kamishiro was sitting right next to Mizuki, and Tsukasa was on Mizuki’s other side, holding their arms and watching while they played a game on their screen. At the sound of his voice, Kamishiro looked up and smiled softly (pitifully,) at him. Unease and disgust pooled in Akito’s stomach— how disgusting did he look?

Was his skin twisted around his bones yet?

Was his hair falling in clumps to the floor?

Did his olive eyes look like globs of mold leaking out of his sockets and smearing like mud?

Did Kamishiro feel revolted at the sight of Akito?

“They, uh… Mizuki invited them,” she laughed, “They’re just a group of freaks. But it’s fine, right? It was gonna just be my group, but everyone else had been cooped up inside… we kinda just invited everyone.” Ena stumbled out. Neither of them was used to talking comfortably with each other and it was painfully obvious.

“Say Shinonome-kun, it’s been a while since you’ve been at school,” Kamishiro started. Akito tensed and let an awkward smile lift the features on his face. How was he supposed to respond?

I do not need a diploma to be buried in a grave.

Akito was stupid. He was a big fucking idiot, sometimes.

He smiled back at Kamishiro. “I’ve been taking care of our mom while our father’s out of town. She’s not feeling the best and it’s her birthday soon so I thought to nurse her back to health,” Akito lied effortlessly. He felt himself slip into a clean and polite personality that made his hair itch and clothes feel unnaturally tight. The mind-numbing throb in his head didn’t make it much better. But it was okay, he was used to it. 

It’s what the world expected from him.

Ena scoffed and scooted into the rounded booth seats where everyone sat, sitting next to Kanade Yoisaki and Asahina, who had small smiles gracing their faces. “Akito, there’s no need to lie. Nobody really cares if you skip; Mafuyu and Tsukasa are the only ones who actually show up to school all the time,” Ena said, picking at the basket of fries that was in the middle of the table.

“Not to brag lil' bro, but I think I have more absences than attendances?” Mizuki chirped. Their hands were clicking frantically on their small gaming console, Tsukasa cheering them on as they defeated another boss. “Eh? Little bro? Did you forget that we’re practically the same age?” Akito whined and Mizuki put the screen in their tote bag.

“No matter the case, as long as you’re taking care of yourself and not being reckless, I think it’s alright to skip school, so long as you don’t mind your academics falling,” Asahina pitched in. Her face was lit up but something about her gaze made Akito feel wary. Uneasy.

Like there was something lurking a little bit darker beneath the surface. It felt too similar to his own for him to be comfortable around her.

But it was familiar.

“Studies have never been a Shinonome thing though, we just fuck off all day and our dad’s a pathetic, second-rate artist,” Ena said, shoving more fries in her mouth. Akito scoffed and slid into the last available seat right next to Ena. 

When they were around friends, the siblings were always different. Different people, lying to themselves and everyone around them.

They were too scared to be honest, because the last time they were truly honest, they hurt everything they loved.

“Ena I’m literally at the top of my class. And you shouldn’t talk about him like that, he’s not second-rate. He still does a lot for us,” Akito defended. A scowl took over Ena’s face, and Yoisaki put a gentle hand over hers.

“Yeah? And when was the last time he acted like a good dad? He does nothing but yell and get pissy at you whenever you try to play the good guy—”

Guilt and hurt rushed through Akito’s system. Everything he did for her, she knew how he coped, but was this what they were destined to be like? Siblings constantly at each other’s throats, despite the obvious care they possessed for each other. Hot-headed and cruel messes. Words slipping out of their mouths that they didn’t mean. Yeah, they were definitely Shinonomes. 

"Ena, I do it to protect you . I’d rather take whatever beating he wants to give to you so that you can carry on your days whining about the small things because that’s what you deserve. But, hey, if you dragged me here only to berate me, I might just leave—” A clap of two hands cut off the sibling’s argument.

Akito knew he was wrong. He was in the wrong. He shouldn’t complain, Never complain, It was all his fault, after all. All his. Only his. He broke every promise he never made but he wasn’t able to break the promise he made to Airi all those years ago. Protect Ena. Help Ena. Do anything and everything you can, just for Ena. The words just kept on slipping from his mouth when he didn’t know what to say.

When Akito was speechless and heated, he said anything that formed even a slight thought; even if he didn’t mean or agree with it.

A smile was on Mizuki’s face and their hands were still floating in the air when they said, “Hey, why don’t we just order some food? Might make us a bit less fussy!” Ena shrugged and Akito looked away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever,” she agreed. There was a bite to her voice. And guilt, a lot of guilt.

Why was she guilty? She was right. He was wrong. Why did she feel bad? It was so, incredibly, stupid. Akito wanted the guilt to go away. Ena’s guilt, his guilt, his selfishness, stupidity. 

For it to go away. He hated it.

He wanted it to go away.

He wanted it Gone. He wanted this feeling of insects crawling down his spine and invading his insides to dissipate like pesticides were sprayed all over. For the poison to be absorbed into his bloodstream and have it kill him.

He needed it gone.

Disappear. He wanted it all to disappear. It was all too terrifying to face when he didn’t have the comfort of a blade or bottle beside him. The world wasn’t made for someone like him to lurk in the sunlight.

I hope the world will forget I ever existed. 

|

Ena knew that when she asked for her group’s help, Kanade would be the easiest to sway. It was a lot to ask of her group who were already going through their own problems, but Ena wanted to be able to help her little brother in any way possible.

But she knew that a song wouldn’t be enough.

It half worked for Mafuyu, but she was already in search of something to help bring her back to Earth. She said she didn’t want help, but the idea of disappearing wasn’t a small choice to make. Someone just needed to pull Mafuyu back.

Ena just didn’t know how far gone Akito was.

He could be dozens of metres or only a few centimetres away from making such a decision. Things had remained the same for years, and Ena didn’t know how far gone Akito was. How much she affected him. It was obvious it was a lot, but she couldn’t know for sure.

She just knew that a song wasn’t something that could pull Akito back to shore, since it seemed as though he was too deep in the water. His arms had too many scars across them to presume that he could easily become okay again. She knew how Akito had always been like; those scars were proof that nobody really cared; that there was nobody there for him and nothing left for him. There were too many for any one person to count, and Ena couldn’t do it alone.

But what could her group do if not write a song? It was their lives, they occasionally went to school and spent the rest of their nights on the songs they wrote for themselves. So what was there to do?

A song wouldn’t work. A song wouldn’t work.

Akito loved and hated music, that much Ena could tell. She saw how he worked himself to the bone just so he could sing the slightest bit better. She saw how he seldom came home at a normal time, and how his voice was always rough afterwards. She noticed how his voice wore down and his smile faded, but how far did it go? (she noticed , and yet did nothing. Ena was not a good sister.)

A song wouldn’t work for Akito. Music is what tore him down.

But could Ena even say that for sure? How did she know it wasn’t herself, or their father, or their mother? Was it Akito who stripped his walls of every dream he hoped for? Who was it that made Akito Shinonome deteriorate over time? Why?

A song wouldn’t work. A song wouldn’t work.

There was perhaps only one thing that would.

|

Akito was so tired. The group of seven ordered food and drinks, and Akito only ordered a glass of water for the knocking in his skull. The liquid tasted foreign on his tongue; he half expected the liquid to taste tangy and bitter as that was the only taste he was accustomed to. But instead, it was blank. No fizz, no bite, no flavour, no pain. It was empty and clean. Akito wasn’t sure if he preferred the water or the alcohol.

The days seemed like they began to muddle together into a giant lump of nothingness, which made Akito feel all the more lost. “Hey, what day of the week is it? Haven’t been to school so I forgot to keep track,” Akito politely asked the group after they all finished laughing at a stupid thing Tsukasa did.

Kamishiro looked up at him with a small smile, “It’s Friday. Today was the last day of school for the week. Hopefully, we’ll see you back next week.” Akito felt his hand flinch a few centimetres to the left beneath the table. Yeah. Sure. Next week.

Next week… he planned to be dead.

Saturday, tomorrow, was his mother’s birthday. Sunday will pass, and Akito will spend the day bidding the world adieu. Monday’s sun will rise in the morning and set in the night. And then, Akito will be no more. The idea made him feel giddy. Like there was a treat waiting for him after all this suffering. Suffering. It was like an act. Akito Shinonome was “suffering”. Really, there was no suffering in this.

When they got their food, Ena was the first one to speak after taking a bite. “How’s your water Akito? Taste good?” Akito quirked an eyebrow at her and sipped his water to find her point. “The hell are you on about? It’s water,” he tried, but it was clear it wasn’t something he recently consumed. He’d been downing the water in big gulps, the hydrating aspect of it feeling nice in his dried-out mouth. He could run his tongue over the roof of his mouth and feel every grain of it, and the crack of his lips when they bled a little bit. Sure, he liked it just a bit.

“Really? Must be nice after all that beer you drank,” she continued to provoke. Akito stared blankly at her. What was she trying to say? In front of everyone else too? Nothing was more uncomfortable than the moment he was stuck in right now. “Yeah, sure. And hey– Ena, what are you trying to do ? Can I ask why?”

Yoisaki smiled warmly at Akito; he wanted to peel his skin off of his bones. Stop looking. Stop looking. Asahina looked him in the eyes, and said, “Ena called us here because she’s worried about your wellbeing. We thought that bringing you here would make things even slightly easier."

How comforting. 

“I’m sorry, but what are you comparing that basis to? And why? No offence, but I don’t even know most of you by name. Sorry if I sound brass but it’s really none of your business.” Just shut up about this. It’s not even important.

They all turned to look at each other, and Asahina spoke. “It really is none of our business, but we have to step in because you don’t let even those close to you help. At the end of the day, who cares if we intrude in your personal life? It seems as though you won’t let it affect you either way.” His whole body froze when her icy eyes stared seriously at him. He wanted to leave more than anything else.

“So what? This an intervention or something? What’re you intervening, my drinking or my entire life? Either way, it’s not like you can do anything about it,” he laughed off. Their implications were light on his shoulders, easy for him to avoid when even he himself didn’t give a shit.

Why should he care?

He’ll be dead anyway.

It wouldn’t matter.

In the end, none of it will.

…Would. None of it would.

Akito was still having trouble with the present and past tense— it’s weird to come to terms with your death; the complete loss of life. Loss. But, it’s not like he lost his life as if it was stolen from him. He already lost everything that kept him going, and it was all his own fault. His own doing. The rest of them shouldn’t involve themselves with a person who wasn’t willing to fix what has been done. The atrocities committed.

…Sometimes Akito wondered what it would be like if other people could hear his thoughts. He’d get a real big kick out of it.

“I don’t understand what you’re looking to change. Everything I do could only hurt me, nobody else.” He looked at them all individually; why did they look so sad? They don’t know him. Never will, and really, he’ll be dead before they could get the chance.

“It hurts me, Akito. I don’t like seeing you like Mom,” Ena spoke softly, completely uncharacteristic of herself.

“Like what? Tell them, Ena. What’s wrong with me? How am I like Mom?” His eyes glinted with a pathetically fabricated glare. A fake glare in an attempt to misconstrue. To make them hate. To make them mad. To make them distance themselves.

To make them stop. 

But Akito could never really hate anybody at all. The only thing in this world that he had the potential to detest was himself.

“I don’t like it when you come home past midnight and sway in your steps and trip over the stairs. I don’t like it when you hole up in your room and stop caring for yourself and only do things for other people,” Ena started. And Akito looked her dead in the eyes, laughing in fake mirth as she spoke.

Please drop this. Leave it alone and never touch it again. It’s only a bit longer.

He had to say something to make her stop. “Is that it? You just don’t like that I get drunk? Well, Ena, you’re never the one who has to pull a drunk person up from the floor every night, clean her off, and make sure she doesn’t drown in her own spit, so why are you the one who gets to be upset?” He looked away from Ena and leaned back into his booth seat, eyes drawn to outside the windows. “You don’t know the first thing about me or Mom. It’s been years. Things are different now.” 

Akito turned his head to look away and outside the windows of the cafe. Ena’s friends were listening in silence, looking incredibly uncomfortable at the situation that had arisen. It was obvious that things were not going according to plan, and his aggressiveness only worsened it all. His selfishness.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

Ena looked like she was on the verge of tears, unfair and undignified tears, like she was about to scream out. Akito was lucky that he was able to keep his voice at a normal volume to avoid attracting attention. Ena, on the other hand, could not. She was always the loud one.

“Who cares if things are different? How long has it been since you even sang and did the things you love–?” I don’t think there is any more reason for me to love.

“—Sure, we’re older now, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re destroying yourself—” 

That’s not fair. Just stop, already.

“How? How am I destroying myself? How am I anything but normal? Why don’t you tell the whole world, alright?” He egged on, and Ena’s eyes melted with fury and guilt and words spilled out of her mouth and they were fighting like they were children again and it was like that time when she declared her hatred for him and her disgust and everything that was wrong with him and how she wishes he wasn’t her brother and how everything was horrible because of him and Akito was Sorry Akito Was Sorry He Didn’t Mean It I’m sorry

“Akito, it’s not normal to cut your skin to feel better. It’s not normal to randomly take weeks off of school because you want to get drunk to the point that you can’t think about whatever's hurting you. It’s not normal to shove everyone away and only come back out to give every bit of yourself to them,” Ena stated, her voice ripping between pleas and begging. She pointed a finger into Akito’s chest, her face red and hot with upset in every breath she took. Her words wrenched a shudder out of Akito’s shoulders, and they brushed violently in the ears of every friend there. Everyone was silent, and Akito squeezed his finger in his hands that were sagging in his lap. He looked down, playing with the calluses on his fingertips.

Yoisaki held Ena’s hand and Akito couldn’t help but feel how cold his own were. Ena held her hands over her face to try to wipe the sweat from her face.

Akito wanted to cry.

Akito wanted it all to stop.

Akito wanted to be dead.

Maybe in another life, things would be different.

“You cut yourself?” Tsukasa asked solemnly under his breath. Ha, the first thing Tsukasa said to him all day was about his own self-harming tendencies. How wonderful. Everyone else’s eyes were wide but they remained silent. Pity rang clear in them.

Pity. Not empathy, sympathy, for they didn’t know Akito like how Akito knew himself.

Pity. The deadman’s emotion.

Akito’s eyes welled even further with tears he tried to choke down with a sip of his water.

Rui stared at him with a passive face. Akito shifted in his seat.

Ena looked distraught. She looked like the girl he used to see every day in primary school when she would cry at the end of the sibling’s art lessons from their father. She looked guilt-ridden, I wish it could be different. She looked like she wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. Her misery reminded Akito of himself.

He fought and struggled and did everything he possibly could in his miserable life to make sure he never saw that expression on her face again, but here they were. He had seen it once and made it his mission to never see it again, but here they were. Akito decided from a young age to shoulder every pain and bit of grief that his beloved sister felt, but here they were.

And it was all Akito’s fault.

But really, who would’ve figured otherwise?

Akito Shinonome was a sick boy. A sick human. Sick in the head for thinking that anything he did, everything he gave, would actually mean anything or bring any good. He was idiotic, really.

If he made it worse now, it would be easier to run away and just die later on.

“Who cares, Ena? All of this is my own doing. I am the way I am because I like being this way.” He hated it. He hated living like this. He hated existing and hated living and hated being brass and selfish and mean and sad and miserable and bored and upset and he hated it all he hated it all why would he lie like that how could he lie like that to her to Ena to Ena to Ena he’s so sorry

“Why can’t you see that it’s bad? Why do you have to insist on keeping us away from you? Your friends keep reaching out to me to help you, and we want to help and we… I care about you more than anything.” 

Pain dripped down her face like a porcelain doll with chipping paint. Akito wished more than anything for the paint to stop crumbling because of him. He was sorry. His friends– Kohane, and An, and Toya. They all … he missed the comfort of their company. The way he could just forget everything when he sang with them, even if his voice or his dancing was off and his hair looked weird or his sleeves rolled up a bit too far. They denied it just as much as he did.

But it’s not as if there was something that could be done. Anything that could be done. It wasn’t even a huge issue to begin with.

They all cared because Akito gave himself to them to use. To soak up their woes, to give them the life and humanity he wished was returned to him. It was lonely. He gave, and he gave, and he gave and he gave and gave and gave and gave and gave and gave but nobody returned. But he would continue to give, because even if he could not love in the most beautiful and selfless of ways, giving was all that he was able to do. It was all he knew how to do to make up for the pain he caused.

“Mine is a lonely life. I’m not supposed to do anything about it, nobody else is supposed to do anything about it; this is just the life I’m destined to live. So just stop trying to change it and just leave things as they were before,” he pleaded with them. His voice was harsh and unrightfully bitter (because who was he to demean them), but all he wanted was to rest. For it to stop. Akito felt like a mess. Everyone was staring at him, each with their own looks of pity and fake concern, but their presence felt like gasoline was being poured onto his skin and was sticking to the hairs on his arms. Their presence made him feel like oil mixing with water. Dirty, grimy, frying oil that everyone throws out after it's been used.

Oil like the clumps sticking to the strands and roots of his hair.

Water like a wet rag pressing against the slashes he carved on his arm.

Oil from the meals he cooked for his family, only left to be untouched. (he tried everything in the world, but nobody would budge. he did everything, gave everything, but at the end of the day, he was the one who ruined everything good. akito brought these consequences upon himself.)

Water, unlike the fermented drinks he downed in dumb attempts to numb it all.

Yeah, maybe the cleanliness and safety from a pure drop of water didn’t suit him. But he couldn’t let them know. He couldn’t let them know. Never let them know, never let them know. Because then they wouldn’t ask him to give his entire world to them. And Akito was nothing without anybody. Talentless freak. Cruel bastard. Akito was nothing when nobody needed him.

“I can’t just–” Ena tried to speak but Yoisaki silenced her with a quiet mutter to her ear. “Ena, let's put it to rest for now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and he couldn’t hear anything else she said.

But the funny thing was, no matter how many times they’d call out to him, his skin would never stop itching and it ached and He felt fear fear fear because what would they do if they really saw him— what if they could hear his mind shouting and recalling his plans and goals to just die– would they stop him then? Would they prevent his destiny from shining through? Would they shove the essence of being alive down his throat in cruel attempts to make him repent for his sins?

Their eyes on him became too much.

Rui Kamishiro. Era of Gods. Tsukasa Tenma. Ruler of the Heavens. Mizuki Akiyama. Dawn of Hope. Kanade Yoisaki. Night of Music. Mafuyu Asahina. Morning of Equals.

Ena Shinonome. Painting of a Morning Distinguished by Dawn.

All these names, and even just the inclination of his own made his skin prickle with sweat.

Akito Shinonome. Dawn of a Clear Human. Human. Akito was not human. Physically he was classified as such, but nobody could call his behaviour human for as long as his name was Akito Shinonome. His mouth ran dry and Tsukasa and Kamishiro were trying to gain his drifting and wavering attention. Ena was softly crying in the arms of her friends. Friends. Ha. Akito forgot about his own friends after leaving them for so long. An, Kohane. Toya.

His eyes widened. Toya. He reached for his pocket for his phone to check his messages which were likely in the thousands, but it was completely empty. Ah, his phone. Where was his phone? Phone. Home. Right. Home. He had to go home now, it was getting too late for someone like him to be out. “I have to go home.” he whispered.

“Hey— You don’t have to go home right now, you can stay.” Tsukasa, of all people, tried to convince him. If the sister he loved more than anything else in this world could not convince him, a guy he knew from school couldn’t do it either.

Akito shuffled out of his booth seat and sighed, “Please just let it go already.” What was Ena trying to accomplish with this?

“Wait, Akito– we need to talk–” Ena coughed out, standing up again from her seat as Akito did the same.

“It’s okay, Ena. It’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow and I want to make it nice for her. If nothing else, just get home safe tonight. I’ll be there, promise. Please be there for me and for Mom.” His voice was flat and trailing off like he was just trying to force the words out from the script laid out in his head. He wasn’t looking at her. His mind was outside the realm of this discussion. This world. This argument. The argument of him trying to start living again versus his own dilemma of death.

The ringing bell of the cafe door, signifying Akito’s departure, was a lot less cheerful than it had been before.

Everything was easier when you acted like the bad didn’t exist. Everything was easier when you could just run away from it all.

Are you proud of me, Dad? 

|

What do you do when you stop living like a human?

Sometimes Akito had a difficult time telling what was real and what wasn’t.

When the sun got too dull or the rain seemed the slightest bit heavier, Akito felt those changes split into a triad of opportunities and realities, but who could ever know if it was real? Fact and fiction danced on a thin edge in the eyes of Akito Shinonome. Things so intricate yet mundane could exist in reality, but they could also not.

It’s easy for a person to lose grip of what’s true once they’ve been alone for so long. The presence of other people helps pull a person back to Earth, but for Akito, he had nobody to show him the concrete truths.

Everything was based on his drunken interpretation. But sometimes it was nice.

It was much easier to pretend nothing was wrong when you weren’t even sure what was wrong to begin with. Everybody is just a little speck, but such a small speck could alter the course of thousands of generations. Akito was just lucky that life would never trust him with the responsibility of being someone important.

Akito Shinonome could not keep promises, but he always told himself to keep the ones he made to his family. Especially Ena. Even so, he figured that a one or two-hour detour from his path home wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s ever done. Like clockwork, once Akito made it to Vivid Street, he found his restocked stash of bottles, but this time he would wait until he got home. He needed a clear head when he texted Toya and the others back. He could not fix this now, but his sins echoed louder than his impacts.

The walk home was similar to the one he made in the morning with Ena, but it felt more worn out and dim without her presence.

He felt so lonely. Not the cold type of lonely, where you wanted to just stare at a blank wall from the coldness of a leather couch, but the warm type of lonely. The type of lonely where you watched as the world passed by and didn’t quite feel alone because you just spoke to someone— but you knew you were alone. Like nobody would stop walking for you in particular.

Like there was nothing in the world to hold you back, although it was obvious that there was. Like there was something but it still Didn’t Matter.

Akito preferred cold loneliness to warm loneliness. Cold loneliness was nothing more than self-pity, but warm loneliness had no cure to it. It was always there and it was the realest type of sadness. Even if it was hard to tell what was real, the scariest thing about a warm loneliness was how painfully and brutally real it was.

It was obvious. Clear, clearer than the fact that Akito was the embodiment of forlorn. But Akito wasn’t abandoned by the world, he just wasn’t deemed worthy of its attention.

The warmth of the sun made him feel lonelier than ever.

People go out with their loved ones on sunny days, and they stay out late to watch the sunset. They laugh, and they shop, and they fill their days with substance.

Akito would never have someone like that to stay by his side.

That was warm loneliness.

That was the feeling that defined Akito Shinonome.

But even then, there were still people who showed him the slightest semblance of care, and he needed to wrap things up with them. He was selfish, horribly so, but soon he will be dead. He will be dead, so it’s okay for him to say his goodbyes. He knew it would hurt them at first, but it was okay, because he would be dead.

There will be nothing left to worry about, he will be dead.

There will be no more guilt and regret and pity he will feel for himself, he will be dead.

Akito Shinonome will soon be dead and gone forever, so it was okay that he was in pain right now.

It’s okay that he will be dead. He wants to stop waking up and feeling like the world would be better without him. So it’s alright. Everything’s okay, even if it hurts a little.

Because Akito Shinonome will be dead.

He Will.

It’ll be the last thing he ever ensures.

So he has to say a few goodbyes to the people he loves because even if he will be dead, he doesn’t want to leave without feeling fulfilled and complete.

And everybody knows that Akito Shinonome is nothing without other people.

And everybody knows that he has nobody. 

So the world would keep on spinning, and a body like his could be burnt into dust.

This is the only choice I should be allowed to make. 

|

His phone ended up taking twenty minutes to get to at least thirty percent, whereas he needed it closer to one hundred in order to deal with the mass amount of messages and missed calls. (he really didn’t, he just wanted to stall and prevent himself from actually talking to them.) Maybe he’d call instead of text, but god knows he didn’t want to do either.

His voice was either too weak or his brain was too slow to even think of coherent things to speak or type out. He was stuck at a crossroads, but it seemed impossible to pick which path to walk.

Texting would clearly be easier, but what would he say? Sorry guys, I was just thinking up plans to kill myself? Yeah, sure, that would totally be fine to say to them after ghosting them for over a week. But… maybe they would care? Would they even?

Was there anybody in the entire world who would even care? (He already knew the answer.)

Sure, they’d be sad. More than sad, they’d likely be devastated. But at the end of the day, they will move on. Akito didn’t have a life that halted the progress of others living their own lives. If he were to disappear, or if he were to be absent from everything, there wouldn’t be that much of a change.

Akito was already so absent that there wasn’t much of a difference between him being there and being gone.

At the end of the day, even if people spend years mourning, their lives will carry on. They will not stop. They will not be ruined. A few years down the line, nobody will care. The people will walk in graveyards and walk past my headstone, standing beside my tomb and wondering how I may have died. Fifteen years of a measly existence.

It was… almost frightening to think about. Akito could disappear and die and people will carry on like always. Nothing will change. Nothing will change. 

Akito wasn’t sure why he even needs to reach out to anyone anymore.

Sure, it will make him happy. It’ll feel nice. Make him feel better about everything he’s ruined. Even if he drops his burdens onto the shoulders of his friends by merely contacting them, Akito might feel a little bit better. But what will that change for everything? Not much. It’s not like anything can be done to change his life. Even if they showed they cared more, or whatever, it would just make Akito feel sick. Nobody could remedy or just fix how he felt. Nobody and nothing could change the irrefutable fact that Akito Shinonome was destined for loneliness.

But that’s okay. It’s okay that he’ll be dead. Because he’s just one less person for the already cracked world to put up with. One less fail that would eventually just sink into the roots of the earth. One less burden. One less. One less.

One less. A population of over eight-billion people, and the only difference Akito could possibly make to that is one . Akito wouldn’t bring anything to this world. He wouldn’t. He won’t. He just never will.

His so-called “fans” could see it– his “friends”, his family. Everyone around him could see it.

Stupid tears fell from his eyes and scattered all over the blankets on his bed. No matter how much work and effort and essence of his soul that he poured into the crust of the Earth to fill it up, nothing would ever change. The most he could change is one. One less. One less. For someone who cried so much about having nobody and accepting it, it was ironic how much it hurt. Akito was the only one who could change what he gave to this world, and the only change he’d make was the one where he rid himself of the world. A sob broke from his throat.

It hurt.

Hurt more than the skin he tore on his wrists.

But the pain was granted. It was welcomed. It was wanted.

Akito liked the pain, for it helped him feel less. Less and less and less and less.

Less than he already felt.

Maybe he was the reason, the problem that ruined himself. Yeah, of course, he was the reason why he was so, painfully pained.

If anything, the pain he brought upon himself was the biggest constant in his life. It was always there because he created it for himself.

Right now, Akito has two options. Call his friends and feel better; sing, even if terribly, feel the humanity that he so desperately craved but knew was foreign and fake– or continue on this path of sobbing and pain. Self-inflicted pain. Pain that was familiar. Pain that was more comforting than any blanket that he liked to bury himself in.

Pain. It’s just pain. It’s not like it’ll kill him. And so what if it does?

Akito liked that option much, much more than having to come up with an excuse.

Besides, he had much more time to waste before his phone would be fully charged and equipped to handle everything.

Time that could be filled with pain. Time that could be filled with blood.

Time that could be filled, but never healed.

It wasn’t hard to search around his room for something sharp. Glass shards, but they were hard to dig deep with. Razor blades, but they were too small and too annoying to hold with his lanky fingers without accidentally gripping too hard and cutting his palm. He took large sips of the open glasses by his side. It would all be easier that way. He dug for the most ideal object, a boxcutter. He didn’t use them often for fear of shattering, but he had a strange fascination with them.

Similar to a razorblade, they cut deep and in a clean line, but there were many more sides to it. You could drag it across your skin using the longest side, or you could use the sharp front edge meant to cut through cardboard. Each side gave a different sensation.

A drag from the long end felt a lot more like a sear– as if your skin was in contact with a thin strip of hot metal. It didn’t cut as deep, but the pain was more prominent and the marks were longer. They were less controlled, but the blood would spot in areas scattered upon the cut. 

A slice from the front edge was the most easily contained. If you wanted it large and bloody, you could make it so. If you wanted it small and thin, it was easy. It could be deep. It could be shallow. It could make a crimson mess. It could spot only a few drops of blood. It was all up to Akito.

The top edge of a boxcutter was Akito’s least favourite side. It was oddly shaped and it hurt, but barely cut. It hurt, but left him wanting more.

But, Akito would always be left wanting more. More, and more, and more, and more. He would want more than he was granted, more than he deserved. He was a greedy human.

He slid the blade out of the handle and locked it into place once it was a few centimetres out of confinement. He studied the blade like he had a million times before, a million lifetimes before, but it was still the same as ever.

It was slightly dulled. He needed to get a new one, or it wouldn’t be as satisfying.

His finger traced the tip and it got caught on his skin— but it didn’t bleed.

It would require more than a glance or a graze for Akito to hurt.

To feel pain, to be hurt and dismayed and feel as though his body was heavier than a thousand bricks.

But, when Akito was alone, there was no rule for how pain would be inflicted upon himself.

It could be fast. He dragged the cutter quickly across the skin of his inner forearms, a sting resonating in the air but also upon his skin that separated his blood from the world to see. It was a shallow cut, but blood still spiked from beyond the barrier of cells nonetheless.

It could be constant. He sliced, over and over, until small or large lines appeared on his skin. It took multiple seconds for blood to even appear but the sheer amount of cuts made it easy for blood to rush through. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Of course it hurt, he was splitting the cells on his delicate arms, but it really hurt, even if he’d done it thousands of times before and for years. The blade was supposed to be dull, but perhaps his constant drunkenness both heightened and weakened his senses. Akito didn’t know how that worked.

It could be deep. He took the same cutter, squeezed it hard, hand hovering above his limb, and he pushed down hard whilst dragging the blade. Like a weak and sick boy dragging himself to water, to cleanse himself. But for Akito, it was bloodied and dirty. It hurt more, though in a different way, which was to be expected from a slower release of blood. Crimson rushed out of his arm and he could feel and see his flesh from the inside.

It felt disturbing. A human, an inhuman, whatever Akito was, his flesh was now cut open and exposed to the world. Akito now belonged to the world. But hey, he always did. And always will. No matter how much he bleeds.

He wondered; what would happen if he cut again. And again. And again. On the same deep line. In the same area, the same exact strip of broken skin that was already spilling blood.

Then there would be more blood.

Or bone, perhaps.

Bone, blood, fat, skin— at the end of the day, none of it belonged to Akito. The white, or the dark red, or the yellow, or the paled tan. Colours take form and physicality in everything around them.

Human, inhuman, or neither, Akito had the opportunity to show the entire world his colours. All from the dark of his room.

So if he cut and sliced and scratched at the same gaping wound, again, and again, and again, and again, he could finally show them more.

This was the one— the beginning of the one change he would make to this world. His life was the only one he could change, and he would begin here.

It wasn’t his voice, or singing, or songwriting, or dancing ability. It wasn’t the way he lies and lies and lies and lies effortlessly at the drop of a hat to hide things about himself. It wasn’t how his artistic abilities were so capable and yet so empty and soulless and lacking meaning to them in the same way he himself was. It wasn’t the way he could look at a rope or a blade or a bottle of pills and think about nothing but killing himself. None of these talents would ever mean anything or bear any fruit.

But the most important talent Akito Shinonome possessed was the talent to hurt. His welcoming of pain. The way he brought forth his own suffering and nobody else had to lift a finger.

So if that was his biggest talent, he may as well go big or go home.

Akito was selfish. He always wanted to be something.

So he tore his skin with sharp objects throughout the night, varying in depth and varying in pain. He didn’t care about the annoyances that came from each type of blade, he switched through them all. He didn’t care how the blood dripped from his arms in horrifying faucets onto the wood floors and smeared in his fingers. He didn’t care how quickly the blood rolled down his thighs from the excess of blood trying to spread around the entire world.

He only cared about causing more. He hated it, hated the feeling, but it was addicting. He loved the feeling. He loved prying open the gashes and staring into his body like a grotesque artwork. The way his skin retracted and shrivelled backwards with deep cuts, exposing subcutaneous flesh with different white patterns. He loved to mutilate his own body as if he was trying to inflict the worst pain imaginable onto it. He would gasp from pain or squeeze a white pillow with his blood-stained hands when the pain was too overwhelming.

Each limb displayed dozens and dozens of thin and shallow or wide and deep slices. Pain, pain, pain, pain. But it was just pain. It would be over soon, but not too soon. Even if it hurt, why did it matter? Pain is just a regular part of existing and living. It was even a way for Akito to rekindle his humanity. Blood poured down everywhere, but it was not enough to end this marvellous show of Akito’s life.

It was truly a sight for the world to marvel at.

They called it: Akito Shinonome’s Obsessive Pursuit of Being.

To, my only friends.

|

Akito sat in the shower for longer than he should have. He let the water run down his body, each body part connecting to his chest feeling heavier and more numb than ever. The scalding water ricocheted down his back, his hands wrapped around the back of his neck and his head hanging towards the tub floor. He was sitting, legs crossed like children were taught in schools. He recognized the pain beating at his dozens of open wounds, but there was no processing of the pain. He knew it was there, but it was nothing to him. He let it be.

The water felt odd upon contact with his body.

There was a feeling.

An elevation.

Something that made Akito forget. And let go. The water left him in a floaty trance.

Solid thoughts couldn’t be formed, there was just too much to think about. The pain echoing across each surface of his outer body, the water so hot that it made him shiver in cold. The steam blocking his view, the loud rush of water clogging his ears like ants infesting trash. 

There was everything, and there was nothing.

What was he?

What was he supposed to do?

Run your hands over your torso, then your shoulders, and then your arms. Feel the ragged scars blend into the few remaining smooth sections of skin. Gloss over and touch but not too hard. Sweep water over your body with your hands.

Melt. Liquify. Sit there forever. You’re hidden, he’s hidden. It’s blocked from the view of the world behind the shower curtain.

After the big showcase, there always comes the curtain call. And you can hide away once more. The tantalising show was over, go home now. Akito thinks the shower is his home. Akito thinks his home is warm.

There was a place he remembered when he was young. His mother took him and Ena to the beach on a sunny day. They were the only ones there, and he and Ena swam until their arms were so tired they could fall off. They laughed and splashed, and had sand stuck all over their bodies by the time they went home. But there was fun.

They cried at the sunset when the blues mixed with the pinks and purples and yellows and reds and it felt like they were at the edge of the world.

There was a warm feeling.

But that warm feeling was different from this one.

That one was filling. This one feels fake.

Constructed. Hand-crafted by a god in the shadows.

And when the water in the shower runs cold, Akito knows that the basic feeling of comfort is a fleeting one that will never last.

I wish I could have done more.

|

He pressed his finger to the mirror. Blood on the glass. He stared into his own eyes. How are you me? How are you my body? How are you alive?

He pressed his finger to his skin. Blood on the tan. The mirror did the same. His eyes sunk beneath his puffy flesh and they were stupidly dark.

He pulled his bottom lip down. Blood on the white. He stared at the purpled and reddening gums that his teeth were embedded in. Will this thing stay with me as my carcass rots?

Akito looked away. His feet were cold against the floor.

“Will you ever let go?”

Is this it?

|

Akito was busy in the kitchen after checking to make sure Ena came home last night when he heard a crash in his parent’s bedroom. It was in the room right next door, but his mother shouldn’t have even been home, and his father definitely wasn’t there. Akito dropped the rag from his weak hands, shaking water off of them that came from the dishes he was washing. He tugged his sleeves down to mid-hand level, feeling them rub against the fresh gashes, and twisted the doorknob open.

His mom was sprawled out on top of her bed, hair mildly illuminated by the sun coming in from the window. She appeared to be half conscious with her eyebrows scrunched up in pain, yet her eyes seemed glued shut. A plate and a glass was on the floor right next to her bed, and it looked like her spread-out right arm knocked them off her nightstand.

Akito bent to pick up the luckily intact dishes, and she opened her eyes with a grumble, her left hand covering her eyes from the sunlight.

“Hey mom, good morning. Do you need some medicine for your headache?” Akito said softly as he gathered other dirty plates from her room. She peeled her hand off her face and looked at him, her eyes wincing from the bright light.

“Hey, kiddo… good morning. Some Advil would be nice. Maybe some breakfast?” She responded slowly. Her lips curled into a small smile and Akito returned it to her.

“Yeah, It’s already going right now, but when did you get back home last night? I thought you’d come home in the morning,” he asked her. She rarely ever came home before the sun was up, and Akito was awake throughout the whole night. He would’ve caught her coming back home.

“Baby, I’ve been home since before sunset yesterday. I heard you coming in and woke up for a bit. I heard some crying, everything alright?” She asked, a rare bit of care peeking through her closed blinds like the sunlight outside intruding on the windows. Akito felt cold, unlike the warmth that came from the solar system’s star. What should he say? It wasn’t really a big deal– right. It wasn’t anything big.

“Oh, that? Everything’s fine Mom, I just had a long day. It wasn’t anything important. But, it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t worry about anything but your own special day,” Akito reassured her with a grin that felt too long for it to be convincing. He wasn’t exactly lying, it wasn’t anything important, but it still hurt to withhold information from her.

He wished it was like the old days where he could go to her and confide in her.

Akito would always love her, but there was nothing he could do to fix what had happened.

“Alright then, but you can come to me if you ever need anything, alright? That’s what I’m here for.”

But you’re never here. 

Oh. Akito wanted to slap himself in the face for thinking that. It wasn’t her fault. She was just trying her best, and it was Akito who ruined it all.

“Okay. Thanks, Mom. I’ll get started on your breakfast then. The usual?” He asked, ridding his mind of those vile thoughts.

“Whatever you wanna make, I’m just starving. Thanks.”

“Happy birthday Mom. I love you. I hope it’s your best one yet.” Akito lingered by the door for a response.

Anything. Anything. He wanted her to say something. He told her he loved her, he wanted her to respond. Please.  

“Alright, thanks kid. I’m going back to sleep.”

It wasn’t the response Akito wanted.

I’ve forgotten by now, Mom.

|

Akito came through the door, box with a cake inside swaying in one hand and keys in the other before he quickly set the cake on the dining table– manoeuvring and placing the beautiful strawberry shortcake that he bought with his own money saved up from days at his part-time job, all for his mother.

He walked into the kitchen and began to bring the food he cooked with the groceries he bought with his own money to the table for his mom to eat.

The gifts and small decorations in the area, all for his mother. The beautifully clean and polished furniture without even a speck of dust, all for her. The cabinets, the fridge, the sink, the drawers, everything was cleaned so that she did not have to clean it any time soon. Even when Akito was gone and she and Ena were left to tend to the house, it would be easier for them.

Every bit of money Akito made was set aside for them, in each of the letters Akito wrote for them. His mother was given enough money to care for herself and buy the things she wanted, and the same for Ena. His father would feel insulted if he left him money, so Akito decided to split it off for his friends.

Toya, An, Kohane– they would all get the same amount. He hoped that the money helped them forgive him for what he’d done. What else would he be able to give them? Not a soul, not companionship, he was making it easier by leaving.

Money was a funny thing. A few slips of paper defining your status and class in life. A few slips of paper defining your free time and changing whether or not you can live your life to the fullest.

Akito just hoped that his loved ones would be left with enough money or wealth to be happy in their lives. God knows they deserved it more than him.

But it’s alright, there would be much more happiness without him clogging it up.

His friends, family– Ena. It’d all be better.

Ah, yeah. He had to get Ena. It wouldn’t be fair to his mom to have to be forced around him on her own special day.

He pulled himself up the stairs, foot placement alternating between each step. It was just the stairs he had walked millions of times before, but it felt like climbing a mountain. The higher up he got, the more lightheaded he felt; as if oxygen was thinning out or being withheld from him. He was wandering, climbing, searching for something, but then he reached the top of the stairs.

The same dark hallway he had seen hundreds of thousands of times before stared back at him.

Taunting him.

He’s gonna forget this place when he dies.

He didn’t want to do that.

A few metres down the hall, and then to the left. Ena’s room. A place where they used to lay in the warmth and comfort of the room and talk about everything they wanted in life. They were completely unaware of everything that would happen.

Things change so fast.

His footsteps became unsteady.

“Ena! Look at the thing I painted for you,” an orange-haired boy said, prodding his elder sister’s side with an acrylic canvas after walking into her dark room. 

“You— what?” She grabbed it from his hands but didn’t move to stare at it yet. “Thanks Akito. Isn’t it your birthday? Why paint for me?” Ena replied, eyes wide at the gift he should have been receiving himself as it was his eighth birthday. 

“The best gift I can get is seeing you smile. But anyways, do you like it?” a hyper Akito asked her. 

Ena pulled her eyes off of her younger brother and looked at the painting. Her eyes grew with unlimited emotion. 

The painting that would change them. 

A slight bit farther down, and then to the right. The bathroom the two of them had shared since they were children. Since they were young. Since they were naive.

Ena had paint and sink water on her hands when Akito walked in. 

“Hey, what’re you doing? Why would you do that— what’s wrong with you!” Akito cried out. Ena was furiously scraping and washing the dried paint off of the canvas Akito had handed her. 

Ena’s face blanched; he wasn’t supposed to be here. She was sure she locked the door but— “I spent hours making that for you, and you destroy it?”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get it. He’d never get it. Akito Shinonome, the sibling with all the talent. Akito would never get it. He would never understand what it’s like to be Ena Shinonome— the eldest from a family of talented artists. 

He would never understand what it’s like to be untalented. 

“You—! W-Whatever Akito. It’s just a painting, go away!” 

Ena would never forget the look of guilt shining evidently on his face for the whole world to see. 

All the way at the end of the hall. His room. The room containing thousands of memories. Thousands of nights. Thousands of tears. Thousands of thoughts. And perhaps, thousands of scars. Perhaps, there were thousands of intricate fragments of Akito scattered around the room like the broken shards of glass he broke his skin with.

Ena always made sure to tell Akito whenever he was getting on her nerves. They were painting in her room, sitting at her desk and lying on her bed, producing art to their heart’s content. Ena stopped looking over at his pieces while he worked, it was just too hard for her to cope with the fact that their dad saw him as the better artist between the two. They would give each other tips and advice, but she would never allow herself to glimpse at his finished works. 

He was only eight years old, herself being ten, but in their father’s eyes, Akito had solidified himself as the best artist this family had to offer. And Akito didn’t even want to be an artist like Ena did. He never even had to try. But he would always be the favourite, and he would forever remain the ambitionless little brother she always had by her side. 

But that was okay for her. So long as he didn’t overstep what he was worth to Ena. 

It was getting harder and harder for her to make face around him. He randomly infuriated her to the point that sometimes she just wanted him out of her life– not like she could ever tell him that. 

But when, later that day, Ena took a curious glance at Akito’s drawing, a flood of emotion rushed through her entire body, and she saw red. 

That wouldn’t be the last time Akito felt how Ena lost control. 

His breaths were heavy and panting as if there was an invisible force preventing him from breathing. “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. God, I wish I were dead. Please, can’t I be dead? Then I wouldn’t have to worry. Then it would stop. Then it would stop for good,” his younger voice grew weaker and cracked more with the increase of his sobs. 

Junior high was a lonely experience when you saw every one of your peers happy with their friends, or talking about how they went out with their families the weekend before. What a shame it was that Akito would never feel that warmth ever again. 

What a shame it was that it was all his fault, and nothing would ever begin to change. 

His loneliness would last, same for the random bouts of exhaustion and excessive dread. Even if they fixed his brain, things would remain the same. Because he was Akito Shinonome, he would forever continue to be and feel nothing. 

All he wanted was for someone to pull him out of his body forever.  

He was surprised his father hadn’t come for him yet. He’d spent the entire day, skipping every one of his classes, in his bed, cocooned into the same hole that he wouldn’t ever be able to pull himself out of. It was warm, it was comfortable, and it made Akito feel better than dragging his feet all over the school grounds would have. 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, and in all honesty, grew more and more audacious the longer he went without contact from his father. He let his arms peek out from under his bedsheets and wave of blankets. They were sticky with dried and spotted blood, but really, it wouldn’t ever matter if his father saw them. 

Fourteen years of being his son, but it’s not like he would care. 

So Akito shut his eyes for the final time that night and woke up to the sound of a blaring alarm the next morning that he immediately silenced. It wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing that day, either. 

When everyday follows the same routine, there wasn’t any point in trying to live through them anymore. 

“Do you think it’d feel nice to be dead?” Akito asked, his eyes glazing into the ceiling and stuck on a random grain, misconstrued with his thoughts. The boy’s dual-toned head of hair turned, his eyes switching from the lines in a book to the same spot Akito was staring at. 

There was no substance behind Akito’s gaze. It felt… frighteningly akin to nothing. Like there was only one thing going on in his head and that singular thought completely rattled inside of his skull. He couldn’t help but focus on it like there was nothing else in the world. 

The boy hadn’t yet responded, but Akito continued on. “Is it nicer than this feeling? Just, doesn’t it sound kinda relaxing? Like you’re relieving all the pain that comes from being alive.” 

The other boy stared with concern, “I don’t think it’s normal to think like that, Akito. How… long have you been thinking of that?” Akito didn’t waste a second between the last thing the boy said and his next actions. He immediately blinked and sat up, wearing a carefree smile on his face. 

“Oh, it’s nothing Toya. Forget I ever said anything,” Akito said to him, eyes crinkling like that interaction hadn’t even happened. But it did, and Toya was sorry he had forgotten how to see.

And with a smile like that, how could Toya ever do otherwise? 

Akito had forgotten about those memories. Insignificant in meaning as nobody else within them would likely even remember them happening.

But he had one destination in mind.

He needed to get his sister.

You need to pull her downstairs and make everything okay again.

Breathe, Akito.

You’ve done this hundreds of times before.

There’s nothing more for you to do.

Bring your sister to your mom and tell them you love them.

And then the day will close, and everything will be the same.

And you will close your eyes and breathe.

He twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open.

“Ena? Can you come down to say happy birthday to Mom?” Her room was cold, and for once, sterile. As if there was nobody residing there, and no comfort, and clean in the way their father’s studio was. It didn’t feel like Ena.

Ena hadn’t responded, so he pushed further inside. Her bed was nearly made and tucked in. Her desk was cleared and organised, with no artworks in progress. It didn’t feel like Ena.

And after a few looks, it was clear that Ena was not home.

She was not in her room, nor any other area in the house.

Ena was not in the house.

Ena had left, and god knows when she’d come back.

Akito knew he should’ve closed the door with a sigh, but he instead lingered in the doorway a little bit longer. A stupid tear. A weak chuckle.

Her curtains were drawn in the way they always were, tied shut with a ribbon around the cloth. The stars on her ceiling were still there, just like the matching ones in his own room. A tub in the corner full of works he drew or painted for her, none ever likely to see the light of day again. Akito had stopped making them after she began to destroy each new piece he made for her.

Everything was the same, and yet it would never be as simple as it once was ever again. His face crinkled with upset and a few more tears.

And Akito shut Ena’s door.

He’d forever miss those days.

I’m sorry, Ena. 

|

Akito Shinonome always felt a lot of regret, but right now, he was feeling the most he had ever held in the face of his mother.

A sloppily placed birthday cone atop her head, eyes flickering back and forth from her cell phone in one hand and fork in the other. She was eating her strawberry shortcake on one end of the table, and Akito was on the opposing side.

She said she didn’t want to sit next to anybody on her birthday, which was granted, but there was a feeling Akito couldn’t shake that whispered into his ears, ‘If you were anybody else, she would beg you to be next to her.’

But hey, she was barely around Akito to begin with. He must seem like a pathetic beggar to be putting this much effort into her, who was clearly uninterested.

“Hey, Akito? Do you think we should paint the dining room walls? They’re pretty bland now, and Mitsuri has some leftover lavender paint. It’d look a lot more fun than the off-white your dad picked out,” she offhandedly asked her son. Her eyes never peeled away from her screen. 

“Oh, yeah. I think it’d look nice.” I’ll never get to see them, Mom. A shudder involuntarily passed through Akito at the thought. There were a lot of small things that Akito had to accept he’d never see. But at the end of the day, there weren’t many big things he’d miss either. His life wasn’t meant to be a big spectacle.

“Yeah, you think so?” She went quiet after that. There was a silence that made Akito feel like nothing more than a bystander to a private sight. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there, and he was invading his mother’s entire life. 

“How is Auntie Mitsuri these days? It’s been a while since we’ve seen her, I hope she’s healthy,” Akito tried to converse. His mom just gave him a shrug and continued scrolling on her phone. Akito’s eyes never left her body, observing every movement she made to deduce what she would do next.

“She’ll come over next week to help me with the walls. Maybe you’ll see her then,” she offhandedly said. Oh . 

“Next week, you say? Maybe not then.”

“Why do you say that? I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.” I wish I could forget. 

I Wish You Could All Forget. 

“It’s been too long for her to see me as the same little kid anymore. It’s alright.”

“Whatever you say, kid.” Yeah .

Yeah. Whatever he said.

A pause. And then, “Happy birthday, Mom. I hope it was worth the wait.”

“It wasn’t," she whispered beneath her breath, likely hoping he could not hear.

I love you, Mom.

I’m sorry I have to leave, but the remaining pieces of my heart say it is for the best. 

|

“You sure you wanna go out so early? It’s only five pm– the clubs aren’t even open yet,” Akito said as his mom packed her phone and some wet wipes into her small handbag.

Why did she have to go now? He still had the gifts. And the card he crafted and wrote for her. And the movies he pulled out onto the coffee table– the same ones they used to watch together when he was younger. He had her favourites, and he had the ones she hated but still powered through because he and Ena enjoyed them.

Sure, neither Ena or Dad were there, but he was still there. Why was he not enough for her? When would he be able to make his mom happy? 

“Yeah, but Yasuhiro wanted us all to gather early to start celebrating. Thank you very much for the food and decor, sweetie, but your father and sister aren’t even here ,” she said as she struggled with the thick gold chain on the bag. I’m sorry. Akito’s weak and pained hands were shaking, hidden beneath the table.

Will I ever see you again, Mom?

Isn’t this supposed to be my goodbye?

“I’m sure you get why I wanna be around my friends and not just my son all day. Ha , at least if I get drunk I can forget the shitty cake and bad hangover from the morning . Not that I hold anything against you, love.” She casually pulled the hem of her dress down to reach just slightly above her knees. Akito felt a lump rise in his throat.

“I’m really sorry , Mom– I tried to get Ena but I couldn’t convince her and I know it’s my fault but I wish I could do something to make it up to you–” Akito was cut off by a quick peck to his forehead. She pulled away and pressed his face into her to give a side-hug. A tear forced its way outside his eye, but it was dried by the cloth of her dress.

“It’s alright, nothing you can do about it.” But there was everything I could’ve done about it. 

He could’ve been a better kid.

He could’ve been a nicer one, too. Maybe then Ena would’ve been here.

He could’ve put more effort into the last birthday he would ever share with his mother. 

The person who brought him into this world.

It was his fault. 

Just like it always was.

Akito didn’t deserve to continue wasting and infecting everything. He couldn’t continue on like this– nobody on this Earth deserved that.

He– Akito Shinonome was a plague – a disease . A sickness.

A pandemic where one singular cough, like a mistake he made– the mistake of existing, could ruin the lives of the entire world.

“Good night, kid. We can always do this later. When Ena gets back, tell her to come home earlier next time.” Her phone was in her hand when she walked out the front door, slamming it shut with a masked upset.

“I’m sorry for everything.” And then, he cried.

It came out in messy sobs that broke with the ever-increasing sound of his wails ( his childish ones – ) and his nose snotted and sweat and tears and saliva and every disgusting thing about his existence scattered down his face. He was sorry. No, beyond sorry, beyond apologetic – he rued his very own existence. The existence that prevented the happiness and satisfaction of those cursed to be surrounded by him.

Every regret and every emotion he had ever felt had poured out of his body like sin flooding through a temple.

The blood reappeared again, that night, despite the pain that already radiated from the night before. It dripped and it released in cruel lines on his forearms. Again, and again, he repeated cutting the skin on the inner and outer parts of his arms and shoulders, as if tearing into his skin was his only repentance for the mistakes he made and the things he failed to do. Shallow cuts that didn’t cease his breathing quite yet, but enough to make him dizzy from the pain.

He was sorry. This wasn’t enough.

He cut like he was performing a ritual to sacrifice himself to the world, and the pathway to do so was his own pain and blood and suffering.

Like he was performing a ritual to sacrifice himself to a world that he had already failed to devote himself to.

It was a waste. He was a waste. It was all stupid. So, very, stupid. Nothing, nothing, nothing, he could do Absolutely. Nothing.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw and pain permeated every cell in his body. Until everything he destroyed or created was ruined and fixed, and until his body could no longer function. He wanted to cry and yell out, and hurt himself and everyone in the whole world.

Everything hurt too much.

Akito was the one who brought it upon himself, and yet, he wanted nothing more than for everything to stop at his own hands. To take the control back that he had lost years ago. Make himself real again, when he had spent so much time not existing.

He was just too stupid and cruel and miserable at everything he did to fix it all. It wasn’t fair for everyone else to suffer when he dug his own grave to begin with. He wanted to fill it with his cold and dead corpse.

It was horrific how horrible he was. How could he possibly exist? How could he be alive when so many better than him were dead?

Who was he, to begin with? Akito Shinonome could not exist. He felt the pain he inflicted upon himself, but who was himself? Who was he? What was it all? He was real.

He swore he was real. How could he be real? How could any of it be real? When he looked into a mirror all he saw was a creature. A thing. Some thing. It was there in the back of his mind (a mind, never his own.), so how could it. Be real?

He felt like he forgot everything. He felt like he had forgotten everything that made him a person who existed. Like he was nothing but the thoughts of a sinner inside a body that did not exist.

He’d forgotten, by now. Everything in his life.

But, he knew now. He knew the truths of what he was. The boy who spent years being nothing and wanting nothing more than trivial success and laziness.

He knew now.

Akito Shinonome did not deserve to live.

Akito Shinonome could not live this life. (Akito Shinonome tried. He tried it. He could not do it anymore. But It couldn’t do it anymore. It was nothing. Why was it nothing?)

Akito had forgotten it all.

But now he knew.

It would take greater than a fool to forget it now.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Ena? Do you ever wish we were kids again?” Akito’s eyes were fixated on the bright screen of the television in front of them. It was playing one of Ena’s favourite movies about a girl in high school who tried every hobby imaginable to find what she wanted to do with her life. Ena was about to go into high school and she wanted Akito’s help in preparing herself mentally for it.

Ena looked at him with a softer-than-usual face. “We technically are still kids, yanno,” she quipped. She answered him, but Akito had an odd mix of emotions on his face; Ena couldn’t identify them as the only thing illuminating his face was the TV. But she could tell that they were sad ones.

So, she questioned, “Why do you ask? Were you thinking about anything?"

“I guess, we just didn’t have to worry when we were younger,” he said, his words feeling lagged and weak.

“Worry about what?” Why was Akito getting weird again? They were both barely teenagers, why was he acting like it was a terrible existence?

“We didn’t have to worry about our thoughts.” Ena paused. He was speaking out of character more and more now.

“Hey… what’re you even talking about? Is everything… okay?” She felt uncomfortable. What was he thinking about? His ‘thoughts’? What was he saying?

“Yeah. I’m just tired– it’s nothing at all.” The pupils in his eyes relaxed a little bit. They looked less full. Like there was less emotion and thought in them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing Ena. Love you.”

“What the hell?? Ew, take that back!”

“Ha, as if! You just hate that your little brother is a nicer person than you’ll ever be.” The two laughed and threw pillows at each other, but Ena couldn’t help but notice that his laughter fell flatter than it should’ve and his eyes held the same amount of sadness as before.

But like always, by the end of the night, the two had completely forgotten about that exchange and instead opted to marathon their favourites with a giant bowl of candy.

Or so Ena thought.

|

“Akito, get up. It stinks in here.” Ena swung open the door. Akito’s head and newly scabbed and exposed right arm were hanging off the couch arm. He was staring blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling.

There were more than Ena had ever remembered there were.

She kicked laundry out of the path after steeling herself from the stale smell in the room. 

“I don’t want to get up, Ena,” he bitterly muttered. His words were dirty, grimy, and in no way something to be proud of. Akito’s words reeked of alcohol. Ena scoffed annoyedly and approached the windows.

“At least open up a god damned window– and are you ever gonna get out of this– this hole that you’ve practically buried yourself in? Or at least wake up and function ?” She forced the windows open after a few moments of struggle.

He was silent for many beats. A sad expression took control of his face. “I don’t want to wake up, Ena.”

Ena inhaled, “Ever again?” He was silent again.

But then– “I don’t know anymore.”

Ena looked at him for a moment longer and slowly walked back to the door, but before she left, she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“We’re all here for you, Akito. You just have to let us know we’re allowed inside your heart, first.”

The door clicked, and Akito closed his eyes again.

Maybe she was right. Maybe in order to be happy, he needed to do something about it first.

But also, maybe, he could just lay there forever.

And that sounded a lot easier for his tired heart to handle.

|

What defines a person?

Is it their personality? Their lives? Their families?

Akito’s personality is venomous and bitter. He is cruel in his head but acts the saint out loud. He gives and gives and gives but what does he get from it? The nothingness makes him hateful.

His life is blank.

His family is one of ruin whose misfortune was caused by himself. And now, he, the lost sailor, tided the seas in search of the boat, the home , he cast into flames. It would be impossible to see him as a worthy human.

Little boy. Human in heart, human in body, human in pain. But not human. Never could he be human.

Akito Shinonome. Boy who was mean and a liar and abnormal.

Akito Shinonome. Boy who sought.

Akito Shinonome. Boy who hurts.

Akito Shinonome. Boy who had nothing for him.

Akito Shinonome. Boy who single-handedly tore himself down.

He was pathetic.

|

The two of them were watching a movie and an excessively boring part came on. It was a movie about two siblings who would live and die for each other. It was a much prettier and cleaner display of their own relationship.

“I hate you,” Akito whispered.

“I hate you too. What are you thinking about?” Ena responded, unfazed by his words.

“I wish we were different.” Neither of them peeled their eyes from the TV.

“Both of us? What about Mom and Dad?”

“I wish they were different too.”

“Why do you want us to change?”

“Because then I think I could breathe.”

The two of them finished watching their movie in silence.

|

“Would you be sad if I was dead?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I would.”

“Would you be able to move on from it?” Ena paused. What was he trying to ask of her? Why was he asking that? What was he getting at?

“Would you want me to stop grieving?” She laughed without humour, “How long would I have to suffer because of you?”

“I would want you to never grieve for me.”

“I don’t think I can do that, Akito. I don’t think I want to live in a world without my brother.”

“Haven’t you done that up until now?” His voice was dead. It was bitter.

Ena got up from where they sat together at the dining table, leaving the plate of food Akito cooked for her completely untouched.

|

His fists were bleeding.

“What’s wrong with you? I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. ” Each sentence left a harder impact on the mirror he was punching. Glass shards lodged themselves deeper into his hands, but his body was already too weak and injured to leave bone-breaking hits. 

“You’re so fucking stupid and mean and I hate you they all hate you and nobody cares they’re all tired of you and wish you were gone –” and then he heard it. A whisper from the past in his ear, a fake one, but it sent a chill down his spine nonetheless.

“Shinonome-kun, thank you for supporting all of us, even when we make mistakes! We couldn’t have done it without you.” Kohane, or Azusawa-san to him at the time, always encouraged him even when he was the one who made mistakes critical enough to ruin the entire performance.

Even when he was the one lagging behind the rest of the outstanding performers in their group.

Akito wrapped up his hands that night, his mind never leaving the question of whether or not Kohane would still see him as the same person; even after all that happened.

|

“Ena, why didn’t you come for her birthday? She was upset ,” His voice sounded uncharacteristically venomous and bitter.

“I don’t wanna talk about that right now, Akito.” Ena didn’t look her in the eyes after Akito broke the silence permeating between the two for over an hour.

“The hell do you mean , you don’t wanna talk about it? Well tough shit , mom was really upset! She said it ruined her birthday that only her son cared enough to celebrate. And I asked you to come and you just didn’t – so why ?”

“I can’t celebrate a monster who only cares about booze and sex. How could you think she even cares about us?”

Akito went silent. His eyes that echoed with anger and betrayal were now passive and his face turned into one of grief and guilt. 

“It’s my fault she’s like this. I’m sorry, Ena.” Akito left her sitting alone at the couch, never stopping staring at their father’s paintings on the wall.

Akito used to have his own paintings there, but they were torn down years ago.

|

Akito sat on a chair in front of his house. There was an empty chair next to him that pairs with the one he currently occupied.

It would remain empty, but the sight almost beckoned for someone else to sit there.

Nobody else did, and Akito sat alone. It was quiet. He wished An, loud as she may be, was there to fill in the drowning silence.

He sat there for the whole day, staring at nothing more than the thin streets in front of the house. Cars drove by and kids walked with their friends to school. Life without school or friends or worry was really quite meaningless. Like he had no direction in life.

So Akito just stared. Bottle in his hand.

|

Tuesday, Eleven Days Ago.

They were all beyond worried.

Akito Shinonome, one of An Shiraishi and Kohane Azusawa’s closest friends, suddenly was gone. He had gone radio silent.

Toya Aoyagi felt a fear greater than anything he’d felt before. He knew that his best friend had been running down a dangerously steep slope for so long, but within a single day, he had tripped over a rock and tumbled down the entire mountain.

But it was obvious that Akito welcomed the fall. After all, he had climbed so high up all by his own will. He was bound to want to come down once it got lonely at the top.

The three of them returned to the mall restaurant where they had last seen Akito to discuss what the hell was going on. And also, to meet with Ena Shinonome. She had invited them there, likely to talk about Akito. So Toya, and the rest of the Vivid BAD SQUAD that would never feel complete without Akito, waited in impatience, fear, and worry for their friend.

It had hardly been a day but Toya felt as though he were drowning without Akito. Every morning, every lunch, they would meet and talk, but not having Akito in his daily life or even a call or text from him felt like being abandoned. Hadn’t he gone longer before?

Toya just wanted to be near him again. But he needed to hear from Ena first, before he could hear from the person who he cared about more than anything in the world that wouldn’t talk to him.

Toya was staring out the same window in the same seat he was with Akito at yesterday. Kohane and An were holding each other in the booth seat when the restaurant's front doors opened, a brown-haired girl a bit shorter than An walking in.

Ena. Ena was here to talk.

An beckoned brightly over to Ena when she noticed her, but not as vibrantly as she usually would. It seemed everyone was a bit sombre when Ena walked over, her face in a permanently sad expression and hair more ruffled than the neat style she usually kept. Ena hadn’t interacted with the group often, but they were all on good terms. It just felt stale without Akito there to buffer the awkwardness between them all.

“Hi… How are you all doing? I’m sorry I’m a bit late– I usually don’t wake up this early,” the brunette approached them. Toya tapped the open space on the booth next to him for her to sit. She shuffled into place and the girls smiled at her.

It was weird without Akito.

They wanted to see their friend again, happy and sound and without the blossoming black under his eyes. They wanted to see their friend again, full of life and sound and music and capable of anything he put his mind to. They wanted to see their friend again, even if it would take a lot for him to feel better.

An broke the awkward silence when the waitress arrived with the beverages they had ordered before Ena arrived.

“So, Ena, I’m sorry if I sound blunt, but what’s going on with Akito? Yesterday he showed up a complete mess, looked like he joined a fight club when it was really just him not getting enough sleep, and got really weird when we asked what was wrong,” An asked. Her voice wasn’t demanding or blaming, but there was an earnesty that still freaked Ena out.

She took a sip of her very sweetened coffee and sighed. She sighed like there was a dozen-pound weight on her shoulders waiting to be removed from her shoulders.

“Akito… Gets like this sometimes. It’s been a while since he has, though, but he’s been worse off for a bit now.” Toya looked at her, dead in the eye, while she talked. He was worried about what she’d say next.

“For a couple of weeks every few months when he was younger, he would act exactly like how he is now. He hasn’t outwardly been like this since he met Toya, so I’m not sure what caused it to start up again. He hasn’t woken up yet from last night so I really have no idea.” Ena took another breath and started talking again. “But I don’t think it’s good for a lot of people to be around him right now. He just needs time to himself– that’s always been enough to help him fix things internally. A week at most, I’d say.” Toya’s face twisted into a light scowl, An and Kohane not looking eager either.

“So what? Are we just supposed to leave Akito when he’s clearly going through something challenging? Shouldn’t we be the ones to support him?” Toya tried to keep a cool and collected face, but it was hard whenever Akito was involved. Was he supposed to just ignore the partner who was the biggest source of consistency in his life for the past few years? Like hell, he would.

“Look, the thing is, Akito has never really had people that hung around him in the way you guys have, so I don’t know how to really handle it ,” Ena continued to explain.

“But we can’t just leave him! What if all he needs is someone to help him through this?” Kohane pushed. All of their faces were determined as if a fire was lit up beneath them.

Ena couldn’t help but be reminded of Akito.

“Exactly that! Akito still loves to sing and perform, if all he needs is a break right now to help him decompose from the stress, we can still hang around him,” An supplied. Kohane and An began to bounce the ideas off of each other while Ena reluctantly pitched in.

But Toya’s mind drifted to all those past interactions he’d had with Akito.

The three girls were running increasingly loud debates off of each other when Toya realised it.

This wasn’t just stress, or overworking. Akito could handle that. He always had.

But what if–

“I think that Akito is truly suffering a lot more than we think,” Toya said.

The girls stopped talking after Toya broke his personal silence of a couple of minutes.

“What’re you talking about, Toya?” Ena asked. She looked to be in a deep recollection of memory. Like there was something that just clicked after Toya mentioned it.

“...Ena-san, you’ve known him for longer than any of us. You said he’s been like this before and he usually gets over it soon. But, what if he’s just been hiding it the whole time? What if there’s so much more to Akito than any of us can even recognize ?”

“Wait, what even is ‘this’? We don’t even really know what’s going on with Akito–” An started, but Ena cut her off.

“Our mom… hasn’t ever been the most stable . She was better when we were younger, but she’s been struggling with mental health and addiction for a while now. In the same way that I take after our father, Akito takes a lot after her. Ever since he was in junior high, and honestly probably even sooner, Akito sometimes acts like a different person for a week or two. He lets himself kinda fall apart every once in a while, almost like it’s impossible to be any other way ,” Ena explained.

“So, does he have like— a serious mental thing? How long has this episode been going on for?” An asked.

“That’s the thing – some days he looks fine but then for weeks after he’s all over the place. I can’t tell if he’s ever getting better or worse, or if the days where he seems fine are just a bunch of lies. He stays in bed all day and stopped doing shit for his classes, but honestly, it’s the constant drinking that’s the hardest thing to tell with him –”

“Hold on– drinking ? Akito drinks? Regularly?” Toya asked, face puzzled like it made no sense to him. Toya had seen Akito drink before, he himself had even shared a bottle with him on a boring night on Vivid Street, but Akito never acted hungover or as if he had a reliance on alcohol. What type of best friend was Toya to Akito?

The drinking made sense, it was painfully upsetting how blind he was to it. 

I’m sorry, Akito.

An had a grim expression on her face and Kohane looked about as guilty as a convicted criminal. They all felt like horrible friends.

“Oh, you guys didn’t know…? Yeah, well, like our mom, Akito’s had a drinking thing for years now. He’s never that reckless outside of coming home late at night– not as if our parents care , but recently, he’s been forgetting a lot of things he usually never does. Like he doesn’t care about getting through the day anymore,” Ena told them.

Toya gripped his palms tightly. He should’ve seen it sooner.

But, the problem was that it was obvious. It was clear for a while that Akito wasn’t doing outstanding, they just didn’t know what to do about it so they acted as if nothing was wrong. As if the words the people on the streets or social media said about Akito didn’t affect him. Like he wasn’t lagging behind the rest of them because of pure exhaustion rather than lack of talent.

As if he sometimes looked like he was going to drop dead and die on the floor.

Kohane started in an attempt to recount everything the group noticed was up with Akito, “So, Shinonome-kun has struggled to do basic things, has been skipping his job and sometimes even team practice–”

“Wait, he’s been skipping his shifts at work?” Ena asked, eyes wide in disbelief. That sounded the least like the Akito she knew.

“Yeah, he hasn’t gone for the last week or so. He’s been telling me that he’s probably fired by now, but he can’t be bothered to pull himself together enough to show up. Says he’s got enough pocket money for now if he doesn’t spend,” An filled them in.

A small smile lit up Ena’s darker face, “Hah, a world where a Shinonome doesn’t spend? As if – we all spend like we got twenty million yen coming in each year when it’s barely even half that.” A thought overtook her face, and her amused expression turned grim.

“But no matter how bad it gets, I don’t think Akito’s ever skipped work or his responsibilities. Sometimes school, but never something this important. He always covers his co-workers’ shifts, too, even when shit is clearly bad for him.”

“Then what’s going on? Is it just a mental block, or maybe a lack of motivation? Is he stressed out from too much practice? I… I wish we could help somehow. He’s supported the rest of us in unimaginable ways and we have to help him now,” Kohane said. Her face was determined, but it was as if there was a layer of apprehension that prevented her from being completely sure about it all.

How could any of them know what to do? They were all just kids, and there were few adults in their life that could help such an emotional person in such a tender subject.

They felt like they were stuck at a blockade; they wanted to help but you can’t help if you don’t know what you’re trying to fix . But, Akito meant a lot to each of them. So they would keep going, forever if they needed to, to help him.

“Is it some type of mental illness? With what you said, maybe he’s bipolar?” An tried to reason. “With the highs and lows you mentioned, would that fit the description?” Ena and Kohane nodded, seeming to understand where An was coming from.

“Hey, Ena-san, how many years has Akito been like this? Even if he seems fine sometimes– when did he start acting like this?” Toya asked, his voice steady but also wary .

“Uh, hard to say , but I think it was around his first year of junior high. He struggled to make friends and behave in class, so I assumed it was just that at first, but I started to notice how he seemed to flip some sort of switch the second it got really bad. Or every time Mom and I asked him about it, he would seem fine the next day. Start of junior high was also back when she started to be home much less,” Ena tried to explain. Start of junior high was also when Akito started to invest his all into music.

The more and more they tried to find an answer, the farther and farther away they seemed.

But Toya knew Akito better than anyone. At least, he prayed he did.

“I think that bipolar disorder is out of the question,” Toya answered An’s previous question. “Wait, what? Why so?” An was holding her hands together as if she was praying. And Toya wished he could pray to whatever god existed out there that they could all do something to help Akito.

Toya knew it all. Toya knew. But how would he explain the deepest and most intricate things about his partner when he wasn’t sure if anything he knew was true? When there was so much he had overlooked and hadn’t even noticed? When there was so much to Akito that he was too terrified to admit about himself?

“I think… Everything Ena-san said makes sense now. When I first met Akito, it felt like there was so much more to him than what he let himself show off. We all know that thing he does when he meets new people– he’s polite , hides his opinions, and lies in order to please others. He’s good at lying . He can just hide whatever he’s feeling even if it hurts him ,” Toya said. “He acts like he doesn’t need help and he shuts away his emotions whenever someone is close to catching on, but he falls apart again when they’re too much to handle. The emotions never leave him— they’re always there.”

Ena looked on the verge of a breakdown. Her hands dragged through her hair. Think, Ena. “So what fits that? If it's constant suffering , is it a disorder? Why is Akito going through all of this? What the hell is going on in his head that makes him so sad? And why has he never talked to me about it?” Ena’s voice broke. Broke under the pressure, broke under the pain and weight and gravity of the situation.

She broke, but she was still held together by the people around her. But right now, Akito was in pieces, alone in his bed without anyone to hold him up.

I’m sorry. But this is for the best.

“I think Akito is depressed. No, not just depressed – anyone can get depressed at times– but it looks like… depression? His life is equated to his worth and value and it’s clear he struggles with it even when he’s not trying to hide it. Sometimes it’s easier for him to give up than try to change things,” Toya said, but there were still certain things— certain moments that made his mind stop moving.

“He’s said the biggest goal he’s ever had was to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and we think that him not getting much out of this dream is making Shinonome-kun depressed? But is that really it?” Kohane asked out loud.

She was right. There was more. And Toya knew it.

“Akito’s always been someone who just wants to be seen and heard. I think he’s just too scared to let anyone in. Like, Kohane, you were pretty reserved at first, yeah? But as soon as you were encouraged and supported, you began to open up. Maybe we have to do that with Akito…?” An opened the conversation, but Toya drowned out most of it. Maybe they didn’t have to stay away from him. Maybe they could help?

Maybe this was something they could easily fix. Maybe Akito wasn’t that far gone.

Toya closed his eyes shut to think. All of those memories of them together. Every sign Akito has ever thrown his way. He had to recall it. He needed to remember it all to help his partner. Toya needed Akito in his life, and Toya wanted more than anything else for him to be happy.

Strong, kind, passionate Akito. Caring, hot-headed, and beautiful Akito. The Akito he loved and admired and wanted to be ecstatic about living.

Toya didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already has.

But,

“Do you think it’d feel nice to be dead?”

Toya knew it all.

“His whole life. It couldn’t have just started randomly, I’m sure of it. Akito and you, Ena-san, are cleaner versions of your parents, but having them as your biggest influences must’ve done something to set you two off. But, I think the biggest difference between you two is that Ena always had people to run to for comfort. Akito’s still getting used to having us around. He feels more isolated because he’s so used to having to keep every painful feeling inside of him.” Toya’s words came out fast yet thought out, as if he would be betraying Akito by being frantic about the realisations. “He thinks nobody understands him… So that’s what’s making him self-destruct and hide for weeks at a time until he’s ready to come back out. Until he feels clean again,” An clarified.

Toya could reason with that. He could understand and agree with that. He could accept that, and leave it there, and never touch further on what might be going on with Akito.

But Akito was always stubborn. And Toya, after being his partner for years, took after the boy’s stubbornness.

The three girls clamoured and Toya stayed silent.

Silent, like how Akito was whenever a group of people around him were interacting with each other.

Silent, like how Akito was when he clearly was tired and wanted to go home to hide from everyone. 

Silent, like how Akito was when he made mistakes in practice and Toya saw tears build up in eyes far too convoluted for him to navigate.

Silent, like how Akito’s heart and emotions and dreams and perspective were in front of another’s soul.

Silent.

It became quiet again.

And Toya breathed, because it began to make sense.

Like his eyes were opening– he just desperately wished he hadn’t needed to open them.

“Do you… Do you think Akito wants to live?”

|

The three of them were packing up their things after Ena had left the café. 

“You know, Toya, that was the most I’ve ever heard you talk in one sitting,” An started. Kohane was in the bathroom and they were outside the cafe on the second floor of the mall, sky visible through the high glass ceiling.

“Oh, is that so?”

“You must really care about Akito.”

A beautifully kind smile of adoration lifted Toya’s face.

“I think that I care about him more than anything I ever have before.”

An looked at him with a gratitude and fulfilment that wasn’t present during their meeting. Things seemed to be easier after they figured out a plan of action.

“I know that we agreed with Ena to step away for a bit, but… you should definitely tell him that once we can be with him again.”

And Toya looked up from An to the early-appearing stars in the sunset sky, shrugging his bag over his shoulder.

Akito… There’s so much that I want to learn about you.

“There’s nothing I’d like to do more.”

|

The streets looked different at night than they did in the day. It felt like he was at the centre of the world, where everything that ever existed surrounded him in the plains. Like he was nothing, but every other thing was everything.

The cold air felt sweet on his cheeks, but the breeze was so chilled his face grew numb. An opened bottle dangled from the loose grip of his fingers. He was walking, where , he didn’t know, but the street lights were hypnotising and beckoned to him. 

If he had to select a colour to fit how he felt right now, it would be dark orange. Not yet red, but not yet the soft colour of yellow. It matched with brown, the colour of dirt, but it also could fit into the pitch-dark blackness of the streets he walked and dark buildings he passed by.

He continued down the street for what felt like years.

Toya would tell him to go home. He wished Toya was there to care.

He was walking somewhere— far away from his house. A park came into view. The park his mom always took him and Ena to when they were young.

But, there was somebody sitting on the swings, staring at the trees to her right. It was a girl who looked slightly older than him— she had long silver hair cascading down her back that was facing him. He stepped closer with a curiosity that he couldn’t help but let overcome him.

“Yoisaki-san? Is that you?” His voice was slurring a bit.

Her head turned and her eyes broke out of the trance they were in before she turned to look at him. Each eye was on the other side of the swing chain.

“Shinonome…san? Why are you here so late?” her voice but a whisper. Yoisaki looked at him for longer than what felt comfortable. Almost like a scrutinising but judgement free gaze.

“I’m taking a walk,” he answered. Though he wasn’t completely lying, it almost felt weird to make it clear to her. Why was he even outside in the first place? He was sure it was past midnight and there wasn’t really any reason to be there. He was just wandering like a ragtag kid who spent more time in the streets than he did in his home.

“It’s a nice night. Somewhat chilly, but I always come here to clear my mind when I’ve been inside for too long,” her voice became clearer and the sound of it pierced the quiet Akito had adjusted to since he left his house.

“So, is something bothering you?” Akito asked, his voice slightly above an apprehensive whisper. He sluggishly walked over to the swing set she was sitting at and occupied the open swing next to her. The bottle in his hand clanged against the chain and he set it down on the sandy park floor. Yoisaki had a saddened smile on her face and she finally looked away from him.

“There are these two people who I feel need saving, but I don’t know how to help them. And one of them… feels farther away than what my hands can grasp onto. It’s difficult because I’m not very close to him,” she vagued. Saving? Why was the responsibility left on her shoulders?

“Well, why d’you wanna help him? Is he in trouble or something?” Akito drunkenly asked. There weren’t many things he focused on in his head and he swung lightly by kicking his feet back and forth on the playground floor.

“I feel like after everything that happened, it’s my duty to help those who can’t help themselves.” Yoisaki admitted. Akito understood how she felt– likely more than anyone else.

But would his words and actions even reflect that?

“Yeah. Let me guess; it feels like a responsibility that fell into your hands simply for existing?” Akito pondered out loud.

Yoisaki’s head lifted up and down in hasty yet small nods, “Something like that.” They sat in silence, each staring off into nature, but Yoisaki turned to look at him once more.

“You know, I’ve been wondering ever since Friday–”

“What day is it now?” Akito interrupted, mind blank but confused at his lack of awareness.

“It’s Friday, again. But I suppose it’s so late that it’s Saturday now,” she answered with a beautifully kind patience. She truly was a sweet soul. Akito was glad that Ena had her in her life.

“Oh. Is it, now?” I’m supposed to be dead now.

“I hope I’m not sounding too invasive when I ask, but, I’ve been wondering. Shinonome-san, why do you hurt yourself? The way Enanan brought it up makes me assume it’s not a very big deal to you,” she asked, voice yet again strung in a tone far more patient than Akito was used to.

But, the question was odd. Why did she care whether or not Akito hurt himself? Why was it something he needed to answer?

Why was it something that he felt he needed to do?

“I’ve done it ever since I was, what, thirteen? Maybe twelve– if not exactly thirteen, I definitely thought of doing it before then. I guess it’s just a part of me now. I carry it with me, and I don’t really see what’s wrong with it, so I don’t stop –” Akito rambled, thoughts changing from one point to the next to actually find a reason why he did it. Why did he do it? His fingers played with each other and he fidgeted.

Yoisaki’s mouth fell into a frown. “It saddens me that you think that way, Shinonome-san,” she confessed gently.

Akito hummed, “Hm? And why is that? You hardly know me as anyone more than Ena’s kid brother.”

“As someone who reminds me a lot like myself, it hurts a bit to see someone else in more pain than they need to be. And, it’s quite human to feel empathy for another’s suffering.” Human. The polarising word of the century – the word that Akito would laugh at before using it on himself.

He snickered a little bit, air puffing out of his nose and eyes scrunching into a laugh. “A lot like yourself? In what ways? You also drink until you can’t feel your hands? Till you can’t formulate thoughts?” Akito gripped his hands together as if he were trying to wring friction out of them in the chilly night.

She looked a little sad at his words, almost like she was reminiscing on a sad part of her life. “I used to cut myself, too. I did it for about a year when my life felt like it was always ending, but I randomly stopped when things started to look better for me. I didn’t have a huge reliance on it, but it definitely didn’t help me as much as it made things worse.”

Oh. How was Akito supposed to stop now? When his limbs had more incisions on them than unscathed skin? When it was the only thing that could make him feel warm when he felt casted aside and ruined? When there was nothing else for him and he needed it to survive?

Oh. He was supposed to be dead. That was why it would all be easier without him living and breathing. He wouldn’t have to think about things like that.

“But, even before Ena mentioned it, I could tell that you engaged in some type of addiction– and even if it wasn’t cutting, it was definitely some sort of self-destruction and harm. I think it’d be best for everyone for you to get some sort of help.”

“Ha– help? I don’t need help,” Akito shrugged off the idea. There was nothing that could help Akito and fix everything just like that. No pills or therapy or sobriety could change the fact that Akito wasn’t needed by anybody at all to thrive. None of it would change the fact that Akito was a useless kid completely incapable of love and development. Nothing could change how his life was, simply and truly. It would only burden those around him who are forcing themselves to care Nothing would ever change the fact that Akito was practically born to take his own life.

Akito felt so stupid stuck in his own thoughts.

He wished it could all end.

“You think so? …It’s… it’s not easy to recover from painful thoughts. It doesn’t have to be me, but maybe you should talk about what you feel to your friends or someone who you know cares about you.”

Yoisaki paused, and looked up to the stars that shined brighter than any stage Akito had ever been on. They burned him with their light.

“I think it does get better,” she whispered out into the stars, as if she were reminiscing.

Akito hated it. Maybe it was the unreasonable alcohol drowning all senses of rationality, or just the utterly disgusting parts of his personality, but there was a burning anger running through his bones that made him want to weep.

Gets better? Like hell, it ever would. She didn’t know him, didn’t know how it was all his fault and how he was just an idiotic kid trying to be shit he wasn’t–

“Yeah? And how did getting better turn out for you? You seem to still be stuck just as deep as I am,” he bitterly choked out.

Akito said words he regretted, and immediately after his face turned red with shame and his eyes sang with clear notes of guilt.

And Yoisaki’s face held a little bit of pain, but a genuine understanding overwhelmed it.

“I suppose I should stop talking about it now.” Akito nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a few moments.

“For what?” Yoisaki asked, truly hoping for an answer. Not just the basic, I’m sorry for being a jackass, she wanted an actual response. She wanted to hear about the guilt he carried with him every day of his life for the past seven years.

It was weird. A weird feeling Akito was experiencing; it felt like she actually wanted to hear about what was bothering him. He’d never had that before– it’s usually just someone asking out of discomfort and obligation. Or misunderstanding.

But Akito couldn’t let it all slip out. He’d come too far– too many years reserved and holed upon himself. He wouldn’t pour his burdens onto the shoulders of a person he barely knew, no matter how much she may relate or know what to do about it. He couldn’t. But he could say one thing, and he knew Yoisaki would understand it all.

“Everything.”

The distance between the two swings wasn’t large. It was small, if anything, smaller than an average swing set. But that made it easy for Yoisaki to reach over to Akito and gently link her pinky finger with his and hold him for the remaining time they swung there together.

Akito felt dark green. Forest green trees surrounding the two of them. It matched with the pitch dark blue of the sky and wisps of white clouds illuminated by the moonlight. It was cooling, being around Yoisaki.

Hours passed and they simply talked about whatever their minds could conjure up. When the sun began to rise, they took their place in the park to walk around the streets. They never left each other’s sides. They walked around the city streets and mall, and passed through neighbourhoods, watching a kid run around to their friend’s house as it was the first day of the weekend.

The sun had barely peeked above the horizon and the morning air was crisp. The main paths and streets were clean and empty, almost like nobody had ever passed through them. But in a mere couple of hours, they would be bustling and hectic once more.

The music shop had just opened when they looped around the area and the dimmed sunlight from behind the city buildings softly illuminated the sidewalks. Yoisaki gave him a look, offering to go inside. Akito nodded and held the door open for the smaller girl.

It was still early and the shop was empty, other than the yawning and tired employee standing behind the counters on their phone. They hadn’t turned the store lights on and dust floated around the air, reflected in the light.

Yoisaki nodded politely to the employee and Akito walked to the new local release shelf– he hadn’t been there in what felt like ages. The idol group Airi belonged to, More More Jump, had released a new single with their newest covers. 

I’m sorry I’ve fallen flat on our promise, Airi-san.

Akito grabbed another CD. Nightcord at 25 had a new single out; Close to Gray and IDSMILE being the two songs on it.

I’m sorry, Ena.

Yoisaki noticed him holding the CD with interest, “Do you listen to Nightcord, Akito? I heard they’re getting more popular online.” Akito laughed and placed the CD back onto the shelf, “I know you’re a part of the group, Yoisaki-san. She’s never told me, but Ena can’t get much by me. I heard about you guys online and could immediately tell who made the songs. You’re a fantastic composer, by the way.” Akito felt his heart weigh a little less heavy in its placement in his chest.

Yoisaki laughed in turn. “Thank you, Shinonome-san. We’re supposed to be anonymous, but I suppose you knowing wouldn’t hurt. We don’t have many songs published in physical copies, but are there any others that you like from what you might’ve heard online?”

Akito thought for a minute. He knew all of the songs by heart to support Ena in secret, but were there any songs in particular that resonated with him?

There were. They were all beautiful songs, but there was one that always made him want to scream out the lyrics like a giddy kid discovering his favourite music.

“I always really love Composing the Future. The vocals, lyrics, mixing, and instrumentals are phenomenal , not to mention how polished everything feels. I guess it’s the most similar but also the most different from what my group usually makes,” he answered honestly.

Yoisaki looked up at him to smile. “I made that song a while ago for one person in particular, but I’m really glad that you were able to resonate with it too. It’s why I make music in the first place; I want to create art that can speak to people in a way they wouldn’t usually be able to experience.”

“It’s such a refreshing song– I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it. ” Akito and Yoisaki stood next to each other in comfortable silence, browsing different shelves, when the lights were finally turned on by the store worker.

The front door opened and a few kids their age walked in, increasing the volume of the store. The atmosphere went from a quiet morning to a lively day out.

No colour could describe how Akito was feeling quite like the soft yellow of the store lights. Like a soft smile blanketing Akito’s shoulders. Like a warm pastry eaten in the presence of a friend.

It had been a couple of weeks since Akito felt the colour yellow in the presence of someone else.

Maybe it was his inebriation that was slowly wearing off, but Akito was filled with a rush of feeling . “Thank you, Yoisaki-san. Thank you for everything you’ve done for Ena, and thank you for just existing,” his voice felt fuller than it had in ages.

Yoisaki was clearly just as content as Akito. Her eyes were shining with admiration and care and a friendliness Akito was almost unaware existed. “Call me Kanade, Shinonome-san. I think after all we’ve shared, that’s the least I could allow you.”

“Call me Akito, then. As Ena’s resident older-younger brother, I think that any friend of hers is a friend of mine.” Shinonome was too reserved and impersonal for Akito to feel truly comfortable with being referred to as.

“Thank you for taking care of Ena, Akito.” Kanade giggled a bit when she looked up to Akito. “Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for dedicating yourself to everything you do. And thank you for existing in this world.” He felt his lips raise into a gentle smile.

Everything. Felt.

A Bit Yellow.

Akito thinks he liked it.

“Hey, Kanade?” He toyed with the new name she gave him permission to use.

“What is it, Akito?" And Kanade did it in return.

“I think some places are open by now. Why don’t we catch some breakfast?”

“That sounds like a lovely idea.”

|

Kanade and Akito found a nice breakfast cafe that had been open for only a few minutes. It didn’t take long for them to find a place to eat, but they had been walking around the blue of Shibuya’s mornings scoping the area for somewhere nice. As the sun began to fully rise, Akito’s energy seemed to grow with the light, and the shop bag he held with N25’s newest CD was swinging back and forth as he talked to Kanade in the streets.

Akito ordered his usual pancakes and coffee and Kanade got a Japanese-styled breakfast of miso soup, rice, natto, tamagoyaki, and fish. There were hardly any people in the restaurant, but the atmosphere still felt lively and full. Akito’s heart certainly felt full.

A waitress placed a high stack of warm, fluffy pancakes in front of him and his eyes shimmered. They were the perfect temperature, the salted butter on top melting as if the butter were thrown onto a hot pan. Syrup dripped off the edges of the pancakes and Akito readied himself to eat.

Fork and knife in hand, he drizzled more syrup atop the pile and began to slice, the aroma of freshly and perfectly cooked cakes wafting through the air and steam billowing out from its confinement within the pancakes. He hastily sliced, stabbing the first chunk he had carved out for himself, and throwing the piece immediately into his mouth. The sweetness and flavour erupted on Akito’s taste buds and he began to stuff more pancake in his mouth, caring less about chewing and more about his unrivalled hunger as he felt the pillowy warmth from the buttery cakes burst into goodness–

Kanade giggled in her seat, preparing her container of natto while watching Akito’s face glimmer with delight and content.

He stopped mid-action when he heard her giggles, leaving a dumbfounded and innocent look on his face. He was looking at her dead in the eyes, and Kanade cracked into a loud laugh. She had to put her natto back down on the table to contain herself, but she was still laughing harder and harder.

“Whar?” Akito tried to ask her, completely forgetting that his mouth was filled to the brim with pancake.

Kanade stopped bend-over-laughing for a second, looked at him, and started laughing more. Her soft laugh was infectious, and soon enough Akito began to laugh with her, only to choke on the giant chunks of pancake he practically inhaled.

“So, choking on pancakes makes you feel better when you’re down. Noted .”

“To be clear, it’s more of– pancakes and good company. And usually, I’m more patient since Toya makes me give him my pancakes to cut first so I don’t choke, but I always get hungry around pancakes.”

The thought of Toya made Akito feel a bit down. Every day for the last two weeks felt emptier without his partner by his side. It…  felt wrong for Akito to be happy right now without Toya when he deserved nothing more than to bleed. He knew Toya wouldn’t want that for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yeah, and we had a long night as well so it’s nice that we’re able to fuel up. If you’re okay with staying out for longer, I was thinking we should go to Phoenix Wonderland since I was gifted two all-admission passes. I don’t want to force you, so if you’re feeling tired, just say the word and we can call it for the day,” Kanade suggested after taking a sip of her soup.

Akito thought for a second. I’m always tired.

“No, I think that sounds like a lot of fun!” Akito replied before stuffing smaller pancake bits in and chewing.

I don’t want to be alone.

I’m scared what will happen when I’m alone. I should be dead right now.

“It does, doesn’t it? I also heard that Wonderlands x Showtime will be starring in a nighttime play today and the tickets for them are cheap.”

Tsukasa and Kamishiro were there in the café when Ena and Akito had their talk. It had been a whole week since then, and Akito still wasn’t showing up to school.

Akito knew he looked like shit, Kanade just kept quiet about it. He just hoped they wouldn’t prod.

“I happen to know a few of the people in that group. They’re really kind, albeit a bit loud.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to them, then,” she smiled. He didn’t really know them. 

He didn’t really know anybody. Barely even Toya or Ena and they were the people he was technically closest to.

Just get through the day, Akito. You have a friend to be by your side throughout it.

But she won’t stay. They never stay.

Do you really think you deserve otherwise?

|

The two had just arrived at Phoenix Wonderland at noon when Tsukasa came rolling over to their feet, yelling about some robot, arms and legs straightened so he looked like a bowling pin. Kusanagi and Ootori were right in turn, with a mecha looking just like Kusanagi following suit.

Kanade looked at the scene with a smile, but Tsukasa was on the floor right in front of him, yelling some nonsense without realising Akito was right there.

“Tsukasa! Look out!!!” Ootori’s shrill voice yelled out. Akito winced after hearing such loud yells– he was getting used to Kanade’s soft voice and his scarce interactions with Ena.

Tsukasa’s head twisted from his attention on Ootori and Kusanagi and his eyes slipped to Akito and Kanade. “A-Akito?! Why are you here!” Tsukasa comically jumped to his feet like a dog springing into action. Akito already felt a headache rising.

“Tsukasa-senpai, Kanade and I are coming to see your night show,” he deadpanned. Tsukasa’s eyes lit up like a million stars were shining in them.

“Ho-hah! That’s wonderful to hear! I can’t wait to demonstrate my stardom and see you both later tonight– argh!!” Tsukasa said before the Kusanagi robot kicked him in both shins.

“THIS–MESSAGE–IS–RELAYED–FROM–RUI–KAMI–SHIRO. TSUKASA–KUN–MUST–GET–READY–FOR–THE–PER–FOR–MANCE. NO–DILLY–DALLYING. ROBO–NENE–OUT,” the robot, Robo-Nene, it called itself, spoke robotically as Tsukasa writhed in pain. Robo-Nene ran off into the distance and slipped through the crowd in the general direction the show stage was.

Red. Akito felt red. Not in a passive-aggressive or full-on aggressive way, but in a full and curious way. Like he was a burning flame waiting for expression. It was a strong feeling.

“What the hell…?” Akito whispered under his breath. Kanade looked to be very entertained by the spectacle, and by standing mothers were scowling while shuffling their enraptured children away from the sight. They even clutched their purses as though they were passing by a dangerous criminal.

“Robo-Nene!!! Don’t hit Tsukasa-kun!!! He needs to be in top shape for our next performance!” Ootori yelled in distress. Kusanagi just sighed in discomfort as though she were used to this, and Akito swore he could see a purple sweatdrop symbol on her forehead. What sort of children’s comedy show was he in right now?

“Tsukasa, Robo-Nene didn’t hit you that hard, stop exaggerating. We have to get going or we’ll be late…” Kusanagi apprehensively approached Ootori and Tsukasa, who were still right in front of Akito and Kusanagi as if they weren’t there.

“But–” Tsukasa tried. Ootori waved her hands in front of Tsukasa’s face. “Come on, Tsukasa and Nene!! We have to get going!! Rui’s gonna yell at us!!!” Tsukasa was about to go off with them but turned his head around and stopped abruptly.

“Akito, how have you been feeling? Is everything okay now? You still don’t look like you’re doing well and you still haven’t been at school–”

Akito did not want to deal with this. He wouldn’t let anybody else into his head, not after he ruined Ena.

Akito lightly pulled on Kanade’s sleeve as a signal and began to walk off to the ticket booth to redeem Kanade’s free unlimited passes. “See you tonight, Tsukasa-senpai.”

Kanade left with an apologetic smile while Akito left Tsukasa frowning as he turned back around to walk with the girls. Akito watched him walk away and he observed the life around him, living vibrantly and truly like no other existence. The families and kids going through the park as if there were no other problems and things in the world.

Like it was all peaceful, and they were able to live in the moment.

Akito couldn’t help but think of everything wrong with his life. With himself.

…Blue. Akito felt blue.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary.

|

“What rides do you want to go on first? Are there any games you would like to play? We’ve got a lot of tickets,” Kanade asked Akito. They had been walking through the park for a bit, talking about themselves. Akito was sure he talked about Toya more than himself, and Kanade had talked about her music group more than herself. They were both the same. They lived for other people. Who were they without anything else?

Akito felt like he was forgetting something.

Akito smiled at her and nodded, beginning to walk towards a certain place he knew would make them both happy. Akito was thinking of things he wanted to do, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about something.

“You know, I think we’re really similar in a lot of ways, Kanade,” Akito said to her as he helped her navigate through the crowd since she was shorter than most of the people there. The hot pretzel cart is over there, so the next turn should be to the left. Then we’ll be there.

“Really? Not that I dislike that concept, but how so?” Kanade asked, her voice gentle like a kind person to a hurting dog.

Akito had them turn left into a somewhat hidden and far less crowded path.

At the end of the path, a large theatrical-fantasy-themed building stood, with a light-up sign saying ‘Song of Fantasia,’ smack-dab in the middle, with the slogan ‘COMPOSE BEFORE THE RIGHT TIME GOES!’ underneath it.

Kanade’s entire face lit up and the sign lights reflected on her face. It was cloudy and darker outside, like a scene in the rain, minus the rain, so the bright lights were prominent on her face. She turned her head to face him in delight. “Akito–”

“You’ve helped me see it. We both give everything to the people around us like we’re a service, but we neglect what we really want in the presence of others. You’re selfless, Kanade. I thought– why not give you what you’ve been deprived of for years?” Akito felt breathless saying that. It was like the burden of one of the biggest traits he’d ever hidden had been lifted in just a few words.

Kanade was just looking at him. Her eyes were wide with genuine gratitude that made a shiver go down Akito’s spine.

It had been a while since anybody had looked at him like that.

Toya had, more times than Akito could count, but every time he did, he could feel nothing but guilt as a result. Like Toya was too good for Akito and Toya had so much more going for him than Akito did.

But, Akito could tell, Kanade didn’t have anything but other people too. She existed for other people, just like Akito, but while Akito only dragged people down, she provided them with the air they needed to continue breathing.

Even in their similarities, Kanade was a lot kinder than Akito. She was a person who deserved for the world to place their every affection onto. She had just been deprived of what she deserved.

Akito was different. Akito did not deserve the reality he pursued in his dreams. The chase and pursuit were practically a joke.

So Akito would put what Kanade deserved above the place they shared at the bottom of the  barrel. He would remain in the grime and she would be elevated to the surface, where she could breathe in the way she had helped others do.

“Kanade?” He wanted to cry. He hoped she would enjoy this.

“Yes, Akito?” Kanade’s breath shook.

“Do you wanna go in?"

“Yes… I think it’ll be really fun.” her voice and eyes and everything about her was so kind. She was terrifically refreshing to be around. It felt like this was the first day of Akito’s life.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Akito grabbed her hand, and they ran over to the building, yelling like little kids in a park with their best friend by their side.

And as they walked through the experience, and made new songs with wild instruments, and sang into the mic, beating everyone else at karaoke, and playing with all of the mechanics meant for kids (but they were kids just wanting to exist like one for once), Akito couldn’t help but wish that they had met sooner. In one day, it felt like Akito had been changed. But Akito couldn’t change. He was destined to be the same tired lump in his bed, waiting to live, waiting to die.

Akito couldn’t help but wish that this moment was infinite, even if he knew it would likely never happen again.

Akito couldn’t help but wish that his life was different, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Akito couldn’t help but run off to the bathrooms when they were finished to let a few tears escape his eyes.

Akito couldn’t help but wish that he could accept the fact that everyone else saw but him.

The fact being, Akito Shinonome was allowed to live.

|

“Akito, we have to go or else we’re gonna miss the show!” Kanade laughed as the two of them played in a ball pit.

“Let us miss the show, then! We’re having fun here! ” Akito clapped back, throwing a ball at Kanade for her to catch. She began to pull herself out of the pit to climb back out onto the ground. She smiled at him for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

“You promised your senpai that you would go. We shouldn’t ignore that,” she said, standing with her blue jacket zipped up from the cold. She put one hand on her knee to bend down and her other hand was outstretched to reach Akito. He sighed and pouted a bit, but when her face remained unchanging, he grabbed her hand.

She looked small and frail, but she was surprisingly able to help pull Akito out of the ball pit without completely falling over or with much struggle. She did lose a bit of her balance, but Akito helped her before she fell over.

They started to walk in the general direction of the stage when a girl with hot pink hair caught Akito’s eye. She was with her light-bluish-haired friend, buying a crepe, when Akito called out.

“Airi-san?” Akito felt himself gasp out on accident. The place was loud, they were near the show and it suddenly became incredibly crowded and even Kanade didn’t hear Akito’s call.

Airi’s head turned away from her friend to look for the source of the voice that called her name. Her eyes were trailing all over and then her eyes landed on Akito and her eyes widened and–

“Akito?” Her voice sounded distraught and she reached a hand out to pull herself closer to Akito, the boy who looked far different than how she last remembered. Far thinner, far taller, far more dead and rotting–

“Let’s go, Akito. We have to get good seats, so don’t get lost in the crowd!” Kanade pulled Akito’s arm so they could get to the stands.

“Wait, Akito –” Airi tried to call back, but Kanade had already tugged Akito too far away.

Akito could see Airi’s friend talking to her about something, but Airi had some sort of dumbfounded expression on her face.

The crowd moved too fast, and suddenly, Akito couldn’t see her anymore.

And Akito was reminded of the promise he made Airi all those years ago.

“I want to help Ena, but I just don’t know how. Can you… can promise to do your best to help Ena? She’s one of my closest friends, but if she doesn’t let me in, you’re the only person I can ask this of. Just look after her, please,” Airi basically begged, her eyes filling up with tears.

“Don’t worry about it, Airi-san. I’m never gonna leave her side,” a newly thirteen-year-old Akito promised. And Airi smiled, and wiped her tears dry from her eyes, and waved a thank you with her newly determined gaze. And when she was gone, Akito couldn’t help but drag himself upstairs, to his bed, and collapse.

He didn’t know why, but he felt like everything inside of him had been stripped from his grasp. He didn’t know why.

Why did he have to remember that now? Akito’s thoughts began to muddle.

“I think I broke your promise,” Akito whispered, light as a feather. The pink lights from the park were shining brightly in the corner of his eyes.

“What was that?” Kanade asked him.

I ruined it all. I’m so sorry.

I’m so sorry.

He felt like he had to gasp out the words as the realisation struck him. Like he should fall to the floor and hold himself on his hands and repeat the words over and over as his breath increased in pace and he could do nothing but apologise.

I’m so sorry.

But Akito couldn’t do that. “Oh, it was nothing. Why don’t we find a nice place to sit?”

“Yeah, the show’s about to start. Let’s go somewhere up front,” she suggested warmly.

“Okay,” Akito responded, voice just as warm as hers. They began to walk up near the stage.

But his words were just a disgusting mimic. A mockery. Akito wasn’t nearly as kind as Kanade ever would be.

A few minutes passed and they were seated, Kanade looking over the show pamphlet passed out to everyone. Maybe it was because it was getting late into the day and a lot had happened. Or maybe it was because Akito hadn’t felt completely rested in years.

But as the show began to start and Wonderlands x Showtime started singing and performing their wonderful act, Akito’s ears started to ring and he couldn’t help but tune them out.

Maybe it was because it was a long day.

Or maybe it was the thoughts endlessly wracking his brain that just wouldn’t shut up.

But Akito wished, despite all the fun he had and all of the people he talked to today, that the world would just shut up.

That it would just stop throwing curveballs at him.

That maybe, just maybe, it could be easier for him to just breathe.

|

The show had ended and the performers had taken a final bow in front of the audience. Kanade and Akito clapped, but Akito was only clapping because everyone around him was clapping. He blended in, and after years of being in practice, it was easy to copy those around him.

It hadn’t even set in for him that the performance was over until Kanade stood up from her seat, and only then Akito registered her voice.

“–should talk to them,” Kanade said, but Akito didn’t catch the first part of her sentence. “Sorry, what did you just say?” Akito stood up with her so they could file out of the stands. “I said your friends did a great job. It’s the last show of the night, so we should go try to talk to them,” she patiently responded.

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Akito really only heard half of what she said.

He let himself simply follow her for now, and she was talking about meeting them by the back gates, said she knew a way to get there.

Akito seemingly blinked, and then, a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Shinonome-kun? My, what are you doing here? Did you just watch our latest performance?” Kamishiro chirped at Akito, but his back was still to him.

I really don’t want to turn around.

But, he had to. When Akito turned to face Kamishiro, his yellow, Cheshire-like eyes widened the smallest bit before returning to normal. Kamishiro was a bit crazy at times, but he was still very aware and mature. Kanade was talking to Kusanagi and Ootori about the performance while Tsukasa was off to talk to some of the audience about the show.

“It was a great performance, Kamishiro-senpai! I loved all the theatrics and lights, not to mention the brilliant music and scripts,” Akito easily fell into the act he maintained when he was around anybody he knew from school. Akito wasn’t paying attention at all to the show and described what he liked when he watched their previous performances.

But, it was clear that Kamishiro wasn’t fooled. “Well, it was a far more sombre and toned-down show than what we usually put out, but I’m glad you still enjoyed it. Much more entertaining than a few classes at Kamiyama, I take it?” It wasn’t obvious to an outsider that he meant to pry, but after observing how Kamishiro acts around others, Akito could easily tell that he meant to do exactly that.

I just want to go home. Someone like me shouldn’t be out here with the rest of us.

Just make the conversation awkward. Then it’ll be easier for him to quit talking. “Ha, quite so,” Akito responded, adding nothing more to the conversation but faking politeness.

“I was actually wondering; Shinonome-kun, how have you been recently? I know things often get tough, but I do hope you know that there are many people out there concerned for your well-being, whether you believe it or not.”

Just shut up, already. Nobody would believe that shit even if they were held at gunpoint.

“Everything’s alright,” Akito had to resist snapping back. 

“Hm… that doesn’t appear to be the truth. We all just want to help, you know?” His stupid smile never left his face when he spoke , and Akito wanted to just run away or cover his ears like a baby.

Akito didn’t respond. Kanade and the rest of the troupe had rejoined the conversation together, and Kanade did most of the talking to them while Akito responded with short quips.

But, if anybody were to ask, Akito couldn’t remember anything said in those twenty minutes they stood there.

He couldn’t think, didn’t want to, and couldn’t do anything but stand there like an idiot. He couldn’t process any of it. He had too much for the day.

He wanted to stop thinking. He should be dead right now.

“It was lovely talking, but unfortunately, I think it’s time we have to help clean up the stage and pack up for the night. I greatly enjoyed talking to you both, Yoisaki-san and Shinonome-kun. I’m looking forward to seeing you at our next shows!” Kamishiro said, before lowering his voice, Akito being the only one to hear him since the others were saying their own goodbyes.

“I hope everything gets better soon for you, Shinonome-kun. It’s not that any of us want to pry, we just want to help you.” Kamishiro’s face was sincere.

But sincerity didn’t change the fact that this was what was best for everyone.

“Let’s go, Kanade. We should let them get back to work,” Akito ushered Kanade away from the group, and she waved at them with a smile. Akito really needed a drink right now.

Akito and Kanade were walking and talking about something, but Akito could not remember what for the life of him.

He wondered how Ena was, how Toya was. How everyone was.

How everyone was without him.

Akito blinked. And he blinked again. And blinked again.

He felt like he was going everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.

Was he real?

“It’s getting really late, but I had a really fun time today, Akito,” Kanade told him. “I’m grateful that we were able to run into each other. I had otherwise planned to just stay home all day, but I instead made a really good friend.”

Friend? Akito didn’t deserve to be her friend.

Was any of this real?

“You’re too kind, Kanade. But, thank you for everything today–” Kanade’s phone began to ring, and she looked up to Akito to ask if it was okay to pick up the call from her phone. He nodded in response.

Akito didn’t mean to, but he caught a glimpse of the screen before she accepted the call, and Akito didn’t mean to, but his breath caught in his throat when he processed the words displayed on the phone.

Incoming Call From: Enanan

“Hey, Enanan, do you need something?” Kanade asked into the phone after answering the call. She put the call on speaker– it was Ena, so Kanade was okay with Akito hearing anything her sister had to say to her.

“Um, I know you’re out right now, so have you seen Akito around the city? He left the house last night and isn’t picking up the phone. I’m getting really worried.”

Ena was looking for him? Kanade passed the phone to Akito so he could respond instead of her.

“Yo, Ena, what do you need? We’re at Phoenix Wonderlands right now,” Akito answered into the phone. “Wait, Akito? Why are you with K right now? Where have you been all day?” Ena questioned him. Her voice sounded in a panic, similar to how it was the last time she called him. “I went on a walk last night and somehow came across Kanade. We’ve been hanging out all day long. What’s wrong?” he answered her.

Ena let out a big sigh of both relief and irritance. “Mom’s home with her friends and she’s yelling at them a bunch. They’re all drunk and fighting a lot over some stupid shit. You’re the one who usually handles this– what should I do?” Their mother hardly ever fought with her friends. Even when their relationships got rocky, they were like the family she had always wished for.

Akito looked at Kanade, who had an understanding look on her face. Akito mouthed a quick, I’m sorry, and she just nodded determinedly at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Ena. Just stay in your room. I’ll be home in ten minutes, the park is really close by,” he told her.

“Okay… just be safe. And when you get here, please help calm her down before things get violent.”

“I wouldn’t do anything else. Bye, Ena.”

Ena hung up the phone, and Akito handed it back to Kanade so she could pocket it before the crowd made her drop it.

“I’m sorry, Kanade. I wish we could’ve stayed out longer, but I had a really great day. Thank you for being there to keep me company,” Akito guiltily whispered.

He wished things were different. He wished his family was different and Ena was different and he were different – but none of that would ever happen.

Akito wished everything were different, but that was unlikely to ever happen.

“It’s alright. The sun’s already down anyways, we should be getting home now,” Kanade said to comfort him.

“God, you’re right, it’s pretty late. Would you like me to take you home? It might be unsafe to go home alone so late at night–”

“It’s really no problem, Akito. I live fairly close by and I’ve walked home just fine in more dangerous situations. But, thank you for the offer,” she kindly stated.

“Well, then, goodbye, Kanade. Thanks again for today."

“Have a good night!” Kanade gave him a little wave and smile and walked the other way.

Akito said goodbye. Why did he say goodbye, if nothing but instinct?

Say goodbye to everyone in your life, Akito. You won’t last long enough to say a proper goodbye.

Thank everyone to have ever been around you, for they’re the only thing you were meant for.

Were. They were the only thing he was meant for.

And now, as Akito stood alone again under the park lights, without the warmth of another, he remembered what his life was.

Akito Shinonome couldn’t be around another person.

And whenever he Was,

they always left in the end.

|

Akito jiggled the door handle until the careless lock shimmied open. Even from outside the house, he could hear loud yelling and objects being thrown. It had been ten minutes since he left Kanade at the park, but they were still yelling just as much as Ena had implied on the call, if not more.

He just wanted to sleep, already. It had been far too long a day for him to brave through. Would the rest ever mean anything?

Akito quietly opened the door and walked into a group of six people, including his mother standing across from the rest of the group. His mom was yelling, a bottle in her hand. She reminded him of himself.

“This is my fucking house, Sugino! If you want to do your own shit, just fucking leave, already!” her words were drunk and slurring like she was speaking a modified version of Japanese.

“God, you’re such a piece of shit, Shinonome! All I said was that you hardly give your kids the time of day and when you do, you act like everything is their fault!” the other guy, apparently named Sugino, said.

“Fuck you! You have no clue what it’s like to raise kids like them— If you did, you would want out, too!” she yelled back in response, her bottle now empty after a few swigs. She was clearly wasted beyond what could allow her to formulate pure thoughts, but her vulnerability made her words feel all the more honest.

She hadn’t noticed Akito yet. None of them had; they were all varying levels of drunk and they were all engaged in conflict.

But her words didn’t hurt any less, even if she didn’t mean to say it to his face.

“Even if I did know how they were, it wouldn’t change the fact that they’re your children and it’s up to you to take care a’ them,” he said, pulling the bottle out of her hand that she threatened to launch at him.

“I just can’t stand looking at Ena; she reminds me just of her father, but at least she stays quiet and out of sight.” What did she say about Ena?

His mother started talking again, before Akito could do anything. “Akito… he’s a fine kid , but he fucks up so many things it’s kind of insane! He was good when he was younger, I don’t know what happened to him now, but he comes home late and wasted and you’d be lucky to see him once a day. He nags and acts as if he isn’t worse than I am coming home all tired,” his mother ranted without much aim to everyone around.

Akito– Akito– Akito didn’t know–

“You know what the worst thing about him is? He’s always crying. It used to be Ena who was the crybaby, but if you listen real close, you’ll always hear some sort of weeping coming from his room. Like, a shrill wailing– it drives me crazy . Every few weeks he gets in this mood where he never leaves his room or bed and doesn’t listen or lend a hand and it’s irritating, ” she drunkenly slurred around. As if he was the biggest bother in her life.

Mom. Mom. Mom.

I’m right here.

What am I to you?

“You’re the world’s most horrific mother! Your children are clearly going through something bad and you just tell them to fuck off and fend for themselves? No matter what mental shit you’re going through, they’re just kids. You brought them into the world, but you can’t even protect them from the pain of it? Shame on you ,” A guy Akito recognized as a man named Takahashi said to her face after cutting off.

“I tried! I tried for over a decade! But Akito never tries! He was the one who made his father and sister volatile, and he was the one who made it harder to stick around here. We’ve tried to change him, but nothing works. You can’t forgive a kid who doesn’t have any remorse for his actions!”

He didn’t know.

Mom. My mom. My beautiful, talented, mom.

Mom.

Akito knew it all, now.

The room went quiet for a few seconds. You could hear the sound of a pin dropping.

But that also meant everyone heard the muted sobs from Akito, who was still standing frozen in the doorway. The door was still open, leaving all the yelling to bleed into the dark streets outside.

Everyone’s eyes were on him, but Akito couldn’t focus on anything but the horrified look on his mother’s face.

Akito couldn’t focus on anything but her, and him, and the words she threw into the air. The words she spoke into existence.

And despite the tears ripping through his eyes, and the most painful and betrayed look he had ever displayed on his face , Akito spoke.

“I’m sorry.” And he continued to cry, harder than he had in years, but he walked over to his mother and held her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mom.” Her face remained still, in the same frozen stance

Because Akito was sorry. He was more than sorry— beyond sorry.

“You should’ve stopped at Ena. You never shoulda’ had me, ” his voice was quiet. “No…” his mother whispered. “No, I get it, it’s my fault. It always has been. But please don’t talk about Ena like that — she’s completely innocent. I know I… I know I was the one who tore apart this family, but it had nothing to do with her.”

He started to kneel, hands placed above his forehead that was pressed against the floor. “Akito—” his mother tried, but she couldn’t bring herself to say more than his name.

“Get up from the floor, kid,” Sugino told him. “Don’t bow for a woman like her.” And Sugino pulled Akito gently up from the floor from his arm.

Akito looked up at his mom, who also had tears streaming down her face, and whose eyes were going in and out of focus, and his voice cracked, “Let's get you to bed, Mom.”

Akito grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched off the TV that was lightly rambling in the background. The rest of her friends took the hint and grabbed their things to leave. They all spared Akito a glance, some with more pity than genuine apologies.

Akito tried to wipe his face but more tears and snot replaced what he had cleared, so he stopped bothering.

He supported her by the shoulders to bring her to her bed in her bedroom right next to the kitchen. The blinds were drawn but dark blue light from outside still leaked into the room.

Akito placed her softly onto the bed and tucked her underneath some blankets, making sure her head was supported by some pillows. And he turned her electric fan on to her favourite setting, but right before he was about to leave, she held his face in her hands. She was so beautiful, just like Ena.

She studied his features like he were a sculpture she hand-crafted long ago, but had since lost the meaning of.

“I’m just drunk, baby… I didn’t mean it.”

It’s okay that you did.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I know.” Thank you, still.

Now I can see the truth.

Akito clicked the door shut behind him, looking at the nearly pitch dark and lifeless entrance to the home he had lived in his whole life. The dining table, living room, and kitchen were all in one expanse, but he felt like so many memories were built up individually in each.

And yet, at the end of the night, Akito had seen this exact scene hundreds of times before. Each time was the same. Akito was alone. Akito was crying.

And the colour Akito felt was the darkest black that seemed like it would swallow him whole. An empty and suffocating black.

He had felt every colour throughout that day. But at the end of it, he was always left with the deepest and most gut-wrenching colour of them all.

One that reminded him of who he was as a person, who he was to the world, and his humanity.

Pitch. Black.

There was no light left for him.

Akito ran up the stairs from the view of the portrait of the life he had lived. Memories that each step gave him.

With Ena.

With Toya.

With his mom.

With his dad.

All to be erased.

All to be lost and ruined and carved out of his heart because of him.

His mother was not wrong in what she said today.

Akito was why it all fell apart.

His unmistakable talent but also his laziness and lack of dedication. In a family of people crawling in the slums begging for an ounce of natural talent, Akito was like a king strolling through the streets, taunting them by simply existing.

It was no wonder that they began to crumble. And as soon as Akito’s kingdom fell when the foundation of the poor stopped supporting him, he fell deeper and lower than even they could have imagined.

But it wasn’t enough.

So when Akito made it to his room, he rummaged for something sharp.

He’d had his fun for the day, and now it was time to pay the price.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mom. I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry, Ena.” It was hard to cry and cut himself open at the same time. His words felt numb, and his cries didn’t feel like sobs. They were violent and ripping out of his mouth, like wails screamed by ghosts in a haunted yard, but He just felt like Nothing. The pain made it easier to remember what feeling was like.

He’d always preferred cutting on his arms; the pain lingered much longer than when it did on his thighs. The day after and the healing scars never really hurt in comparison to your arms. Sleeved arms would contact everything, and pain could burst into a prism of colour at any given point. It was always weird to press down and rub your fingers on your thighs in the middle of class to force out a feeling of pain to ground yourself.

But if he went deeper, it should be no problem.

A shard of glass in his hand, a different piece from the bottle he had broken the previous week. He pressed deep into his skin and dragged a line nearly six centimetres long. Blood started to fill in the thick line from the strength he ushered into his hands, but it didn’t feel like enough. He felt the pain, felt more alive and felt more awake from it, but the sting was not enough. It should be more. He wanted the incisions to gape open and he could see everything inside of his body.

He sliced in the same spot, opening up the wound even more. Glass always had an interesting feel compared to a blade– it stung more than it hurt. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered.

None of this mattered.

Again, he dragged the glass on his skin. A few centimetres off to the side of his first cut. 

Again, more blood came out. It hurt, but he kept going.

He couldn’t live without it.

The blood on his pale skin was something out of a horror movie. Not enough blood for it to feel like a theatrical movie, but the cracking and drying of it smeared around his thigh would twist the stomachs of most into discomfort.

Akito was like a martyr in the eyes of the very kingdom he had thrown into ruins. He was like Midas– a king who ruined everything with a single touch. What was once thought of as a beautiful talent, was soon no more than a curse, even hurting the ones he loved.

He was happy for a whole day. But there were always the thoughts that lingered. That swept his mind into proportions that tarried his mood. 

Nothing lasts. Nothing lasts. Nothing lasts nothing lasts nothing lasts nothinglastsnothinglastsnothinglastsnothinglastsnothinglasts–

And it was all because of him.

He choked on a dry sob. He looked at the glass in his hands, a thin drop of blood dripping from it from where he scraped the spots on his thighs. He observed it close to his face.

Nothing lasts. And Akito was sorrier than ever that that was his reality.

The pain was ringing in his head, but it did not feel enough.

But, no physical pain could ever quell Akito Shinonome’s mind. Nothing could ever make it stop.

Nothing could stop the black from bleeding into his life and making everything unfathomably dull.

No alcohol, no friends, no pain, no amount of love could fix it. He wanted it all to be over. He was so tired of it all, and there was nothing that could ever be done. Nothing, ever, because more and more and more would just become worse and worse. There would never be any sanction and serenity within his life. His future would amount to nothing and his whole life would be equated to garbage. A waste. Pointless. So why go through this all?

Akito Shinonome was many things.

Sometimes he thought he could pull through.

Sometimes he thought it would stop.

Sometimes he thought it would never stop.

But one thing that Akito Shinonome is, is naive.

Naive for thinking that this world was a place where he deserved to live.

But he decided to continue bleeding. And continue doing the most he could to make it known to himself that he did not deserve Anything.

Because Akito Shinonome was a boy who obsessed over possible realities far from his own.

And he was the only one who could put himself in his place.

Chapter Text

Akito woke up to a scene that he had seen hundreds of times before.

The same room. The same blankets. The same bed. The same door right in front of his bed.

The same warmth that derived only from the lone body in his bed.

His room didn’t smell or look pleasant. He sighed and rolled over. He checked his phone which had been fully charged for days on the plug since he didn’t want to pull it off.

He opened his messages app to the hundreds of red notifications, opening each private message to mark them as read and make it feel like a normal day again. He didn’t care if he left each message on seen.

He opened the next app on his phone to just get it out of the way. Twitter opened, and each one of his accounts had the 20+ notification symbol. He clicked through his notifications on there too, opening then closing messages just as soon as he saw them. They were all full of people asking if he was okay. And his normal notifications tab was filled with fans and friends and all sorts of people.

It was only a few weeks.

The world was supposed to move on without him, and that they did. The messages and notifications came to a halt after only a day or two, the last one being from Thursday two weeks ago. It really didn’t take long for him to be forgotten.

Because it had been ages since he opened the app, his timeline was stuck at tweets from when he last opened it a few weeks ago. One from late Tuesday, on the Vivid BAD SQUAD official account.

VBS ° GEKKOU! @VividBADSQUAD 05/09
━  hi guys! this is a message from An announcing a group hiatus. unfortunately, there are a few personal problems that have come up that are preventing us from going forward as a full group. we’re not disbanding or anything, we all just need a little break sometimes :)
➥ (123K) ♡︎ 335K) 

ELISE @kazuh.a : this is absolutely devastating where else am i going to get my weekly cat songs
➥ (16K) ♡︎ (22.1K) 05/09

anchan @kohathoughts: I’M STILL GOING TO BE POSTING THOSE I PROMISE
➥ (10K) ♡︎ (25K) 05/09

jackie; @AWAKEN0W : i literally had a dream about this a few days ago Oh my god. But i hope ur all okay <3
➥ (209) ♡︎ (2.4k) 05/09

loser @Aiondori : vbs beach episode/filler arc when
➥ (1) ♡︎ (3) 06/09

lin @catnoin : dude everyone is online on their personal accounts but akito hasn’t shown up in days??? where is he…
➥ (19.6k) ♡︎ (23.5K) 07/09

scara main @kunikusushi : all of the members are active except for akito What even happened lmao
➥ (3K) ♡︎ (8k) 07/09

It’s been weeks since anyone had commented about him. Weeks since his notifications were added to. Weeks since they probably cared about him.

It wasn’t really that long, and Akito was just moping and being annoying about nothing.

And it was all his fault.

But it still hurt to see how fast the world moved on without him.

Did they let their worlds continue spinning?

Akito reopened his messages app. Kanade and Ena and An and Kohane were near the top of his most recent messages but–

Toya was at the top, and he had texted since Akito had cleared his notifications. The do not disturb button was on his phone so he didn’t notice.

Akito opened Toya’s messages and began to really read them. He scrolled for what felt like a lifetime, even if there were barely fifty messages from the last two weeks.

toya
Akito, where did you go?
Please answer our calls
we need to talk 04/09

toya
Are you coming to school today?
please answer 05/09

toya
Akito, I’m really worried about you.
We talked to Ena and she said some things that I wish I’d seen before
I’m sorry for overlooking all of those things.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be a good friend for you. 06/09

There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Toya.

toya
You know I’d never give up on you, right?
Ena told us to stay away for now, but it’s hard when you’ve changed so much in my life.
I hope you aren’t upset with me. 07/09

How could anybody in the world be upset with someone like you?

toya
We had a chemistry test at school today. I’ve been telling our teachers that you’re very sick right now, but I’m not sure how long that excuse will last
They said you could make up for all the work you missed once you get better
But I don’t know if you’ll get better.
That Monday, when I held you in my arms when you cried, you promised me that you would come to me when you needed someone.
please say something 08/09

I’m sorry.

toya
Ena keeps insisting on leaving you alone so you can sort out your thoughts
She said something about your parents– how they could get you help when times were less complicated
She said she talked with you and her friends
Tsukasa and Rui were there. They told me how you looked infinitely worse than when Rui had seen you on Monday
The ₴Ɇ₭₳ł has been a wreck. ₥ł₭Ʉ has been telling us that it was always meant to be this way. She’s the only one who appears to know what’s happening
Akito, how long has this been plaguing you? 09/09

I tried to keep you from hurting like me. Part of the message Toya sent was stuck in a cryptic glitch, whether it be on purpose or just his phone malfunctioning. Akito felt like he was forgetting something.

toya
We all miss you. Even if you’re not reading these, I like to imagine I’m still saying these things to your face
I like to imagine that you know how much I value and care about you
I like to imagine that you know that I want you in my life
I like to imagine that you know the only thing keeping me from being at your side is Ena’s word
I like to imagine that you know that I could never possibly repay you for everything you’ve done for me
Please hang in there, Akito.
We’re all here for you when you’re ready. 10/09

I’m sorry.

toya
Shiraishi and Azusawa are telling me that it’ll hurt me more to think about you as much as I do, but it’s hard when you’ve been my everything for years
I remember meeting you on that street. Your singing was incredible even then, and I can still hear the song you sang to me when you beckoned towards me in that crowd
I can’t get you out of my head, and I don’t think I ever want to
I’m sorry for being selfish
It’s been a week since I’ve seen you. I hope you will come to us to talk. 11/09

Akito held his phone close to his face since he was lying down on his bed. He didn’t notice the tears in his eyes until one rolled sideways down his cheek due to the angle of his head. 

He was under a million blankets, and even though he was technically warm, he felt cold without his partner by his side.

Toya could never be selfish. Toya Aoyagi and the word ‘selfish’ did not go hand in hand in the way it did with Akito Shinonome. Akito only did for himself and his joy, even if he did things for others. He always did it in an attempt to forgive himself and because it made him happy to see others happy. If he wasn’t happy, he would never even imagine doing it.

He remembered how they always sang together. Even if Akito fell behind, Toya carried both of their voices into a powerful harmony. Even if Akito sounded out of place when alone, Toya’s voice always made him feel stronger and more capable.

Akito has made many mistakes in his life, but inviting Toya to sing with him was one of the few things in life he would never regret.

Nobody could ever wish for a better partner.

toya
akito
Thank you for existing
Thank you for breathing
Thank you for being the greatest partner anyone could ask for
Thank you for being the best person I’ve ever met
Thank you for saving me from a life I didn’t want to live
Thank you for opening my eyes
Thank you for helping me open up and meet wonderful people
Thank you for being the person to lead me towards a future I wanted to exist in

I’m sorry for not doing any of those things for you. 12/09

Please stop lying. It’ll only hurt more. You’ve done everything and more for me.

toya
I know it truthfully hasn’t been long, but knowing that you might be suffering each day makes it feel like I’ve gone longer without you
there are things I do without you that just make me miss you so much
Sometimes even beyond what I handle
We went to watch a street show today, but it didn’t feel the same without you next to me
I feel like I’m betraying my soul when I do anything to exist without you
There’s a lot more that I want to say to you, Akito. But I want to say it to your face 13/09

You’re too incredible for me, Toya. How is it that the whole world doesn’t know of your greatness already? How is it that the whole world doesn’t love you as much as I do?

toya
It’s really easy for me to create new habits, but my favourite one is that I can’t stop thinking about what to message you every day
I never forget to do it and it’ll never slip my mind because there’s so much for me to say because of you.
I know I sound overeager, or nagging, but I feel like I need to get my feelings across to you.
I used to be a quiet person, but it was you who made sure I changed. I’ve met so many new people because of you, but none can compare to you
So please tell me you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t 14/09

Without me, you can live your life the same as before. I didn’t change you, you already had the potential to change. But now that I’ve come and did my job for you, I can leave.

I have to leave. Why don’t I want to? 

toya
I really hope you’re okay. I’m sorry for texting so late, but it was a busy day at school and my father told me to get my homework done
he’s been asking me why I’m so down recently, and when I told him about you, he sent his best regards
I know you’re not too fond of him, but I do think he’s trying to be better to me and my brothers.
How are your parents doing? I heard that your father’s out of town for an art exhibition.
How is Ena? I haven’t been updated on her either since we met last Tuesday
Even though you won’t respond, I hope you’re asking yourself some nicer questions too 15/09

My family wants nothing to do with me.

Ena won’t even leave her room to talk to me, my father hates calling me his son, and my mother regrets bringing me into this world.

But was that really the truth?

toya
Tsukasa told me that you went to one of his shows tonight. There was another girl with you, Ena’s friend, but he said you looked terrible. worse than last Friday
it’s been a while since I’ve spoken to you, Akito. I’m sorry I can’t be there right now, but I’m talking to Ena about it. She said that you had to sort out a fight and your mom said some cruel things to you
I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to hold you when you needed me to
I’m doing my best for you. 16/09

You don’t need to come for me. Don’t chase after me. Save yourself already.

toya
I miss you so much. I don’t know if you saw, but our group has been on a break because we can’t imagine trying to sing without you
you’re the glue for both halves of our team– the vivids and the bad dogs
You were the one who took the step to combine and become something even greater
without you, all of our lives would be so, so different
We need you, Akito, but not just for singing. 17/09

I am the most blunt, abrasive, obnoxious, and annoying member of the group.

You all only feel weird because you’re used to having an extra person.

There’s a lot of people in the streets who would love to sing with you all.

toya
Since you haven’t been here, I’ve been eating lunch with An every day. I think she felt odd with how often I called her Shiraishi, so she made me start calling her by her given name
Kohane has started coming to me to talk about her stage anxiety and how to manage it 
because you aren't here, and you were the one to always help her with it. We're on a first-name basis now, and I think it is nice that we are able to get along more. But it feels so weird without you
Now, I call Tsukasa, Saki, Ena, Kohane, and An by their first names
But I like yours the most.
Akito.
It has a nice ring to it. 18/09

toya
I’m sorry for messaging so much
It must be annoying and Im sorry 20/09

How could you ever be annoying? Akito felt like the cruellest man for making Toya think that way about himself. It was like telling an angel their lifelong dedication to peace and joy only brought harm.

toya
[ message deleted ] 21/09

toya
It’s becoming autumn now, yet you aren’t here for it
Your name, Akito, is so close to aki for autumn. I know how you always turn your head whenever someone mentions autumn, because you think they’re talking about or calling out for you
My name is the furthest from autumn, but now, whenever someone mentions it, I turn my head too.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking of you. 22/09

Is Fall really approaching? It’s September now– months from my birthday.

It’s okay. Sixteen was too much to ask for, anyways.

toya
Ena says you haven’t gotten out of bed for anything but to use the bathroom in days.
She’s been bringing you food and water too, but you aren’t drinking and eating it.
I hope this passes for you eventually, but something tells me it won’t. 23/09

I’d rather lay here, sinking into it all. Accepting it.

There were dozens of other messages from the past couple of weeks, but Akito skimmed through them. Regret panged his body and everything churned into guilt. He was such a horrible person. He only ever cared for himself.

He’d been neglecting his chores and every responsibility for his own laziness. His own selfishness. His own wants.

He ignored everybody for weeks and threw a massive pity party for himself. He left others to clean up his own messes and repent for his own mistakes.

Since he finished reading the messages, he saw a new one pop up on his screen.

toya
I was about to send my message for the day when I saw you had read my other messages
Are you there now, Akito? 10 minutes ago

Akito began typing, too many words going through his head to send anything coherent to the partner he treasured more than anybody in the world.

akito
i’m sorry, toya.
seen just now

I love you. Thanks for it all.

Akito closed the app and checked the time.

6:58 AM.

Akito turned off his phone.

It was too early for him to pull himself through the day.

He was supposed to kill himself weeks ago.

Akito didn’t want to do this anymore.

|

It was a few days after Ena’s eleventh birthday, with Akito still being nine years old. But Ena couldn’t stomach looking him in the eye. After Akito’s latest birthday, Ena had distanced herself greatly from him. The bitter feelings that had been building up in Ena for years; Akito’s talent for art, his athletic ability, the way he could finesse everything and everyone without caring about anything he did. Ena hated it. But she hated even more that the only person she could bring herself to blame was Akito.

The little flame in her life was always there and always present, but sometimes it felt like the flame was overpowering the air that pushed it around. So Ena would be that push, even if sometimes it felt more akin to a shove.

Ena Shinonome shoved Akito Shinonome around, and everyone knew it. So they pitied the boy whose talent would make him rise above the oxygen trying so hard to repress his life source.

Avoiding him was the only way the oxygen could continue to be replenished, but it was also the only way the fire wouldn’t end up a snuffed out spark.

But the flame would continue to fight for the oxygen because it needed it to survive.

“Ena! Please, stop ignoring me. I’m sorry if I did something, but I’m lonely right now…” an eight-year-old Akito said, pounding his fists to knock on her locked bedroom door.

“Go away, Akito. I don’t want to see you right now,” Ena responded. I don’t want to see how you’re covered in paint, how you spent the whole day painting with Dad when he hasn’t let me do it with him in months.

“Ena, please? Can we paint together like we used to? It’s been a while since we did…” he sounded so sad that it hurt to hear those words come out of his mouth. Ena sighed. Fire really does seem to catch onto everything around, even if you throw water or fan it out. “Fine, Akito! But if you get annoying I’m kicking you out.” Ena got up from her seat to open the door and let him in. He was smiling like a puppy who had just been fed the world’s best treat.

The two of them took their places, Akito laying on his stomach on her bed and she was sitting at her neat but messy art desk. “Do you wanna exchange art? I wanna paint you something,” Akito eagerly asked her.

She didn’t want to say yes, but it was hard to turn down his soft face. But she didn’t like to look at his art. She hadn’t looked at it since his birthday many months ago.

It was pointless, but really, Ena was just scared of his fire growing stronger from the oxygen it was fed. She was scared of falling into his shadow. She was scared of not being enough for their dad.

“Okay, Akito. But let’s use acrylics since they dry faster.” So he could be out of here faster. And Akito’s eyes lit up with gratitude and joy and it made Ena feel sad . Like she was the most horrible person in the world. “I love acrylics; Dad showed me how to blend the colours and he’s teaching me about a thing called colour theory. Did you know that the colours orange and blue supposedly complement each other? I hope I find someone who has blue hair!”

“Let’s just get started already. We’ll paint whatever we want– people, scenes, animals, random stuff,” Ena proposed. Akito perked up, “I already know what I’m going to paint, then!”

Akito only pulled dark brown, light pink, and dirty blue paint tubes from the bin, grabbed thin brushes and palette knives, and a 9x12 canvas. He set a towel down on Ena’s bed to start painting.

Ena wanted to paint a reflection of her face in a sea of water. Like she was a giant bending down to splash salt water from the ocean on her face, large eyes ogling the element so far gone from her. Ena always had an artistic liking towards the whimsical.

They were going for around forty-five minutes when Ena started wanting to give up over the struggle she was having with her painting. The proportions were off, the water didn’t look real enough, and for it being about a weird creature that shouldn’t have made any sense at all, Ena was upset that the piece actually didn’t make sense.

But their dad always got mad when they gave up on their works. They always had to finish them, whether they were the shittiest things to ever be made or a complete masterpiece for their age. And Akito never gave up, so Ena continued, layering more and more paint to try and cover up the amateur mistakes that made her feel like a failed artist.

If their dad saw Akito as the better artist despite Ena having more experience, so be it. But she’d rather throw her whole life away than give up when she could still overtake him.

She became so frustrated that she started to scrape her canvas with her fingernails to the point where there was a small rip in it. She sighed when she noticed, and grabbed a roll of clear tape to stick behind the canvas and scissors to cut the tape since she was still a kid who couldn’t do it herself. Scissors in hand, looking at the rip in her already messed up painting, Ena wanted to look at anything but her own works, but being in her room, they were hung up on every wall and surface.

So she looked to Akito, where he sat on her bed, painting a beautiful blend of heartfelt colours–

Oh.

Akito was painting Ena’s face. A portrait of her most innocent and pretty expressions, where she looked slightly dumbfounded yet curious.

The anatomy of her face and body was slightly off, but the details were there. The mole she had on her face that was fading away as the days passed by. The way she used to tuck her still-short hair behind her ears whenever she played.

He didn’t have any colours that were a basic skin tone, but he used the brown paint to make a silhouette of her and the background, and the pinks and blues to highlight and contrast against the dark brown. Like party lights akin to those at her eighth birthday party were shining on her face, and she was looking behind Akito’s perspective with nothing but wonder in her eyes. He painted a very thin layer of pink over the brown background to show a difference between her and the wall, so she didn’t just blend in. So that she was noticed, so that she was sharp, so that she was seen.

And in her eyes, there was a tiny light flickering in the pupils. In the dark expanse, he turned nothing into a highlighted feature that drew the viewer’s attention directly to them, despite the overall strength of the piece.

Everything about it showed a genuine care to what he was making. What he was creating. Like he cared about it more than anything else on his mind at the moment. His feelings were heartfelt, and even though his technical skills weren’t as refined as Ena’s, the picture he painted had a story and meaning to it that squashed anything Ena had ever recalled painting.

Akito had three colours that he used, compared to the myriad of shades Ena used in her failed piece.

But within those three colours, Akito was able to tell the viewer a story about his love.

His love. Nobody else’s. The small things he noticed about the things and people he cared about. 

His childish affection. His idolization and pure admiration. One look at the painting and one could tell that Akito utterly adored her. 

And Ena

did

not

care

for

it.

He didn’t want to talk about himself, he painted a picture of his love for another person in this world. Almost every child would draw things about themselves and what they wanted, or even themselves like Ena did, but Akito showed a selfless yet incredibly selfish display of his emotions.

Like a true artist.

Not some child pretending to be one, like Ena.

Akito had three colours that he used, and Ena had used many, many others. Neither of them had squeezed even a drop of red paint onto their canvases.

But it didn’t matter anyway. No pigment could compare to the red Ena felt encroaching on her entire body.  

Akito looked up from his painting when he noticed Ena staring blankly at it. “Hey Ena, you weren’t really supposed to see it, but do you like this scene of you? I tried to capture your expressions in it–”

Ena got up from her bed and snatched the canvas from his hands, wet paint getting on her hands. She studied the painting even more.

It was undeniably, undoubtedly, regrettably, beautiful.

She felt a scream of anger strangle her throat. Why was he so much better than her?

“What are you doing? You’re smudging the paint–” Akito tried, but stopped when he recognised the unmistakably clear pain in her eyes. 

“Why is your art so much better? I don’t get it– it’s so unfair. I spend hours everyday and you just do it for fun!” She was yelling at him now, directly in his face. “Ena–” Akito tried to pull the canvas away from her,

“Just go away, Akito! Get out of my face and just leave me alone!” Ena tried to roll Akito off of her bed, out of her room, out of sight, out of mind, out of her life. “I’m super sorry, Ena–”

“Just stop it! Stop being like that! Get out of my room!” Ena shouted at him, her face scrunching into a hurtful sob when she saw Akito’s expression.

She didn’t know why. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know why.

She didn’t know why, but at that moment, her wails were louder than they ever had been.

And that singular painting was one of many that accentuated the pain Ena associated with Akito’s mere presence.

The flame had gotten too strong, and it was burning her.

|

Akito’s eyes peeled open.

He knew it was about time for him to start functioning again. Go out into society, converse with others, and be normal again. But he didn’t want to get up.

He’s felt like this many times before— countless times, it usually feels like it never stops, but when he’s uncharacteristically neglected everything for so long, Akito can’t seem to find a way to pull himself back to normalcy.

He can’t pull himself to the shore.

He can’t find a way out of this place.

He can’t look for something to fill him up with a reason for being. 

He’s already tried.

And it gets so tiring.

Why? Why? Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why–

Why was he like this? Why was he unable to live and just fucking function? Why was Akito Shinonome still alive, if this was all he would feel? No content, no worth , no substance . It was like his soul was living in the blood underneath the skin confining himself from the world.

Whenever he looked in the mirror, even on normal days, he couldn’t help but stop to stare at himself. Who was he? Did he exist in reality? How did someone like him have a physical body that existed in this world? Who was allowed to interact with the things surrounding him? How was he granted cells and DNA and an appearance to fool those around him?

He knew that his name was Akito Shinonome. He was a member of Vivid BAD SQUAD. He was one hundred and seventy-four centimetres tall. He was born on November 12th.

And there were things he had to admit to himself that, despite his hatred for everything regarding himself and his abilities and personality and feelings.

He loves sweet foods. He loves music. He loves singing. He loves his parents. He loves his friends. He loves Toya. He loves his older sister. He loves people. He loves the world.

Akito Shinonome loves , because he cannot exist without loving. He loves and loves and loves and loves andlovesandlovesandlovesandloves,

Because He Has Never Imagined A World Where He Does Not Love Everything Around Him.

So sometimes it feels like He Does Not Fit.

Akito does not fit in the scripture written by the gods who handcrafted everything that

Ever Existed.

Akito fits in the subscript. He fits below the line.

He supports those above him, but they do not lower themselves beneath the life that was written for them by the stars who lay in eternity.

But if he loved the way the birds chirped outside in the mornings, or the way the bustling streets in a busy Shibuya always had the same liveliness, or the way people interacted with those they wanted to share their whole lives with, why couldn’t Akito love himself?

There was but one, simple, answer.

Akito existed to do nothing more than exist.

So if he would forever live with a vacant hole in the heart that he claimed to love every essence of humanity with, could one actually call that living?

He checked his phone again, eyes damp with tears too far gone to keep bottled in his eyes.

9:26 AM. He had time to rest before it came. I would like to live.

|

Akito descended slowly down the stairs, fingers tracing the handrails and feet dragging across the plush carpet. His house had a more American design because of his father’s fascination for American art and architecture, and decided to implement it when he designed it.

The house was cold, Ena liked it that way and since Akito was a glorified corpse, and their parents were never home, she changed it to her wants. Akito liked it warm.

There were still bottles around their living room and on the kitchen counters. Akito hadn’t cleaned up since before his mom’s friends came over. He usually is the one who cleans it. Ena hadn’t, and Akito didn’t go downstairs for days. Akito was lazy. Akito was selfish.

Akito could see the mess on the counters and stove from the food Ena tried to make for him. She somewhat cleaned up after herself, the gas stove having food stuck underneath the rungs from when she spilled a bit over the pots and pans. Akito smiled. Ena was never a good cook, so he had to learn how to cook for her when their parents were less and less available. There were only a few dishes on the sink, but the drying rack was full. Ena never liked doing chores unless she wanted to make herself look good.

Akito took a seat on the couch, a powered-off flat-screen TV staring right back at him. The light from the windows reflected back onto the TV, but the glare wasn’t strong and powerful. Akito was able to see himself clearly. His dishevelled hair, exposed arms from lack of sleeves on his shirt, (The only clean clothes he had didn’t have sleeves. Any attempt to do laundry made him fall to the floor and cry with dirty laundry surrounding him. Everything was dirty.) and vacant look. Akito brought his hands to his face. He could feel the soft and dry spots all over his face from the lack of care he put into it. He could feel how his teeth and mouth and jaw were stiffly locked into place since it had been ages since he talked.

He looked at the portraits and scenes and photos on the wall. Akito came from a family of artists whose works were hanging on each wall of the house. And yet, Akito had none of his pieces there. It wasn’t as though his were of any value, they were practically less than trash, but there was still a selfish sting in his heart from the absence of all of his hundreds of works.

The soft white rug on the wooden floor was angled and uneven. His father wouldn’t be happy with the state of the house. The rug had a drop of red standing out on the pristine white top. Akito easily recognized it as dried blood. The first time he’d cut himself, he did it on the black couch, and he accidentally spilt over. He was a lot more careful after that. His father had just left him home alone after he stormed off from an argument, and Akito was just a sobbing child on the couch. Akito saw the scissors on the coffee table, his exposed wrists, and he saw 

Blood.

It was a memory he’d always have in the back of his mind. The flesh he tore open for the first time, ripping and slicing like there was treasure beneath his skin. He was uncalculating, the first one went deep and burned more than he thought it would. His next cuts were more held-back, but he now knew what type of actions he was capable of. The spotted blood filling in the lines he swiped, like a dotted traffic line was on his arms, commanding his actions and allowing himself to move forward in life.

That one impulsive day, when he inflicted pain upon himself because he didn’t know any other way to smooth out his emotions, or to get his anger and hurt out of his system, or because he knew, deep down, that he deserved every horrible word said to him. That he deserved it tenfold. That he deserved it more than anybody else in the world.

That one impulsive day that changed into a lifestyle and a habit.

That one impulsive day that stripped Akito of every impulse he had. Because he knew now what he needed to fill and manage his life.

Akito stood up. He walked to his father’s art studio that connected to the dining room. He easily found scissors sharp enough to cut felt like softened butter. He sat back on the couch. His arms were bare, but they were practically covered with enough scars to appear as though something was wrapped around them. His skin was pale, but the half-healed scars he had made it look like he had an extremely blotchy tan. The fresh and the recent ones looked both orderly and chaotic. But they were satisfying.

He opened the scissors, holding them over his right wrist like he was using them to slice the tape of a package. He angled the blades for the sharp side to hit his arm. He dragged it swiftly across, pressure and grip so tight his fingertips were white. It was comforting. He could obsess over the blood, and the feeling, for ages.

In less than a minute cut his skin open again, and again, and again and againandagainandagain andagain, until he reached his twenty-seventh cut. And he stopped. He rarely ever counted them in his head, but he felt like his twenty-eighth had to be different from the thin and bleeding lines that now wrapped his arm. He wanted to feel it more than he had the quick and effortless lines.

Twenty-eight. Akito’s first show was on the twenty-eighth of April when he was much younger and more naive than he was now. It was the twenty-eighth of September now, and it was always his lucky number. It was all coincidence, but as he grew more familiar with the number, he began to take it more to heart.

So twenty-eight. He gripped tight on the scissors. A slow drag– not fast, not hasty, but it was sharp and painful. When he cut with scissors, he had to drag a long blade across his skin instead of just a sharp point. It felt like fire was running through his veins whenever he dragged it along. It was deep. He was slow, still going, when blood pumped out. When the blood burst from the gaps in his skin, he felt himself cut through the layers of his skin. He was used to seeing the epidermis break, and he’d sometimes see the top of the dermis, but he had rarely ever cut into it.

The sharpened and special scissors made it almost painfully easy to reach into it. Red drops spilt when he lifted the scissors from his right arm. The scent of metal flooded the air, and Akito was invigorated with the feeling. The searing pain on his wrist, echoing and beating through his entire limb. The exposure to the crisp air, the blood trickling down to his hand, where he could feel the stickiness of it with his fingers.

It hurt, undeniably more so than most he’d dared to do before, but he was intrigued by it. He wanted to feel the numbing throb of pain screaming on every part of his body. He wanted to feel his skin break everywhere and twist his skin inside out. Have it peeling off his bones, until he could see muscle and the subcutaneous fat. Have blood spurt out from every gash he left on his body. Just feel everything ten times over. Have it hurt so bad he’s swearing and sweating and begging for it to stop. Just keep going until he regrets everything and it hurts so much he can’t breathe.

He sounded crazy.

Akito stared at the incision. He prodded at it and peeled the dried blood off so that new blood could come out. It was riveting, he inspected it like he was criticising the effectiveness of it. His hands grabbed a hold of the scissors once again. What if he made it deeper? Cutting again, and again, and again in the same area. On the same bleeding wound. Deeper. And Deeper. And deeper until he could see the off-white of his bone.

It would hurt more than anything. But the idea made his heart beat fast and his mind soar. There were so many possibilities. Everything in the world could be etched onto his body, for blood will then spill and take the same shape as the words spoken into existence. The words that showed him this pain, this genre of existing.

Akito was about to slice again, but the phone he forgot about in his back pocket began to vibrate and ring. He pulled out the phone, trying to use fingers that weren’t smothered by blood, and he looked at who was calling him –

Incoming Call From: dad

Akito felt his heart get stuck in his throat. Why was he calling? He accepted the call.

“Hello? Akito, are you there?” Shinei Shinonome called for him.

Akito had the phone pressed against his ear. What? What was… What should he say?

“Y-Yes. I’m here, Dad–”

“Oh, good. Listen, I called to let you know that I will be returning tomorrow morning…”

Oh. He was… coming back. Akito was in for the punishment of his life.

Akito felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought.

“Okay. Is that it?” 

“Well… About your school. Son, I–” he sighed on the other side of the line. “Whatever is going on with you that’s causing you to behave this way, we’ll work towards fixing it when I’m back. I called to tell your school that you’ve been absent to attend an artist training camp. I doubt Kamiyama believes me as your friend has been reporting you sick, but your absences have nonetheless been excused from the records.” Akito always made everything harder for everyone. His father was supposed to be working, but he had to cover for his mistakes and his let-downs.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Akito did his best to not let his voice break. 

He heard his dad harshly suck in a breath. “I don’t want you to be saying sorry. It’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting for so long, but I recognize myself to be the root of these problems, among others, and I apologise. I called your mother as well, and we’ve been trying to fix some things between the two of us to improve the quality of life for everyone involved.”

It’s not your fault. It was mine. I shouldn’t have behaved like that. I shouldn’t be this way. I shouldn’t have to exist for you to pick up after me. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to fix anything. Nothing’s wrong with you guys, i-it’s all me. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

“Like I said– it wasn’t your fault, Akito. I haven’t been behaving in a way befitting of a father. I haven’t for years.”

No, it was me. It was me. It’s always been me. Ever since I was born, it was always me.

“You’re wrong, Dad. It was because of me. But I’ll make it better now; make it easier.”

“Akito, what are you even talking about? We’re… we’re a family. We’re meant to go through these things together. I realised that in these past few weeks. We can’t fix what’s wrong if we do not all embrace change.”

I’m sorry Dad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry. It’s all okay.”

“Akito. That night when we last talked, I said and did some things that were not right for a father. It is not your fault. I am sorry for what I did.”

It would not be too pretentious to say, this world scattered into his hands. And he shattered into this world. This impertinent being flees.

“Bye, Dad."

Shinei Shinonome paused, taking a few beats of silence. He breathed in again, and Akito couldn’t help but notice the subtle hitch in his throat.

“I hope you’re well.”

His dad hung up the phone.

And it would be the last time he’d ever hear his voice.

Akito fell asleep on the couch, covered in blood and tears he was too tired to keep in.

But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t live for much longer anyway.

He knew he was forgetting something.

|

Akito was twelve when Ena first announced the deepest parts of her thoughts about him.

Their father had spent the whole day praising Akito’s works, and the depth of his artistic abilities. Not only his tendency to master certain skills far sooner than Ena but also his understanding of everything high-rate artists valued.

It hurt Ena the most that their father was rating one of Akito’s portraits of herself.

Whenever Akito was given the allowance to paint whatever he wished, he would always choose his older sister as his subject. He would meticulously select paints, choose an overly artistic perspective, imagery, and message, and put his own take on Ena that made her feel like nothing more than an object.

Just a pretty picture for her barely-talented kid brother to use effortlessly in his drawings.

Their father always gave Akito genuine advice and critique instead of just telling him the faults in his art, as he did Ena. But when it was yet another drawing of her, their father would ask him, “Why did you choose to draw Ena like this? Why don’t you draw her the way she really is?” Akito would answer, “This is how I see Ena. Is there something wrong with that?” And he only ever said it with the portraits of her. The portraits she did not tell him he could make. He said that he was trying to find the source of magnificence and remarkability that Akito saw in her that nobody else could.

After the critiquing, Akito saw Ena hiding behind the wall and sitting on the staircase. Her expression was dark, and she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. 

“What’s wrong, Ena?” You treat me like a martyr.

“Go away, Akito.” His face looked hurt. Incredibly so. But it didn’t matter. 

“Ena, please, you never talk to me nowadays–” Why would she? Their parents talked to him more than they even thought about Ena. He has enough attention.

“Don’t you get it already? Are you stupid?” Ena incredulously bit out. Doesn’t he know by now? He’s always rubbing it into someone else’s face and he acts like he’s unaware of it.

“Ena, I’m sorry for whatever I did to you– I didn’t mean to do it–” Don’t be an idiot. You’re so lucky. You’re so lucky.

Ena rolled her eyes at him. "Jesus, putting up all this bullshit you dish out to Dad. You act like a victim all the time, as if you don’t deserve any of the crap you’re dealt with.” Why can’t they love me too?

Akito was tearing up at this point, and Ena felt regret tumble in her stomach. I’m sorry, little flame. I do not mean to extinguish your pain. “I’m sorry for being this way.”

“You’re clearly the favourite, and people only ever give a shit about you. Dad’s coworkers always ask about you. ‘How’s Akito progressing with his art? How’s your son doing in school? I heard your son stopped playing sports, is everything okay?’ Mom’s friends always talk to you when they come over. They all ignore me because they think I’m lesser than you, and I’m so sick of it!”

“I didn’t mean to–” You never change.

“Please don’t talk to me, Akito. God, you can never shut up around me. Please just stop painting me, stop talking to me, stop trying to fix everything.”

“Dad didn’t like the painting. He said I messed some parts up–”

“Just stop, already. Give it up, Akito. ” Ena walked up the stairs and slammed the door to her room. Akito didn’t stop crying, even then.

Akito liked painting because he could draw his wonderful big sister in beautiful and happier scenes than he always saw her in.

Without Ena to paint or incite inspiration from, Akito wasn’t sure he even liked art.

He loved many things because of her.

It was cruel how incredible he was at the one thing Ena valued more than life itself.

The sky would fall, one day.

|

It’s been years. Years since his family cared for each other. Years since his mom told him and Ena that she truly loved them, years since their father laughed as a result of a stupid and childish thing they did.

Years since Akito had felt like his family was still his .

Akito thought his life had changed because of his introduction to music. But now, as he stared at the ceiling of the room he grew up in, the ceiling he’d stared at for hundreds of hours and that he’d memorised for ages, he realised that his life had changed because of the people in his life. The people who granted him the opportunities for more, and the people who made him realise how unspectacular he was.

That he wasn’t anything more than a spare body, that really, nobody needed.

Who nobody… needed.

Akito hadn’t really talked to anybody in weeks. Not Ena, barely his dad, not his friends, not Kanade, not even a stranger at a store. He hadn’t left the house, and barely even his room, and that was when he was sure Ena was gone for school or otherwise. Their mother never came home since that night, and Akito was too tired to care.

Toya had been sending him messages, but they only riddled Akito with guilt.

Who was he to show up in other people’s lives, ruin everything going for them, and then leave like it was nothing?

Who was he, to simply just exist in a world where he was clearly unwelcome?

This, that I have carried with me, has remained weak from the very beginning.

Akito pulled himself off his bed. He’d kill himself that night.

He was scared of the proposition his dad told him about. He didn’t want them to reach into his heart. It would only cause them to be burned by the flames.

He’d crawled off the couch earlier, after the blood had been staunched by itself and there was only a stinging pain left. The giant and calculated gash on his arm looked bold and sweet among the still prominent uneven ones he left earlier. He didn’t know why he continued to do it. It was kinda funny, at that point, how ruined he made himself. But it didn’t matter. He would be dead.

And he wouldn’t go back on his word like he had dozens of times in the past.

He had a whole drawer stuffed with letters. Letters to his mom and dad, letters to Toya, letters to An, letters to Kohane, countless letters to Ena. He wrote so many that he could simply pick and choose which ones he wanted to put out. Some letters were nothing short of pitiful. Some were short and sorry. Some were thousands of handwritten words long. Some he had printed out. Some had teardrops stained on the paper. Some were wrinkled from when he thought about throwing them away. Some weren’t a goodbye, and were just things he wanted to say to someone but was too weak to actually do it.

But each letter had his stupid feelings in it. How he felt about that person, what he wished he’d be there to see for them. How he wants the greatest in the world for them, and the things he was sorry for in regards to them.

I’m sorry for ruining you, now it’s time to take my leave.

He pulled them out, and reread them all. The miserable words he left to each person, where he sometimes was just whining about his life and telling them why he couldn't stay. Why he couldn’t live anymore. He told them all how much he loved them, and how they were the only reasons he made it this far in life. It was bittersweet to say goodbye. There was so much he selfishly wanted , but it was impossible now to fulfil it.

He wouldn’t see them face to face ever again, but he could at least whisper his thoughts onto an A4 paper to them. Akito arranged the papers neatly on his desk for them to be seen if you looked beyond the other things laid out. 

So what would it be? Would he tie a noose like he had countless times before, but actually go through with it this time? Would he leave in the dead of night and go back to that bridge he had seen more times than he could remember? The one he always stood a bit longer at whenever he passed by? Would it be a bottle of the old antidepressants his mother was prescribed but never took? Would he grab a serrated kitchen knife and tear through his limbs like he had thought about millions of times before?

There were so many options to end his life with. Every way had its own benefits and share of pain. Pick one, Akito. Choose one. Combine them, do them all, do any. 

Just make sure you end up dead. This is for the best, and yet, my heart begs to stay.

|

“Aoyagi, you were incredible up there! How have you only been performing for a few weeks?” Akito asked his new partner after their first public show. Red appeared on Toya’s face, and he laughed slightly, “Doing it with you made me a lot better than if I were to do it alone.” Akito slapped him on the back and looked at Toya with passion burning in his eyes, hands on each of his partner’s shoulders. His face was lit up with a fire that nearly burned down the place, and his vibrant orange hair shining against the backstage lights enhanced the mood.

Akito and Toya were perfect together. The audience was hyped and completely enthralled with their performance as partners, not just as single performers.

But despite their celebrating and Akito’s bright face, Toya couldn’t help but look at Akito’s arms when his sleeves rolled up unknowingly.

And Toya would see the scars again and again and again, whether it was when they were thirteen or fourteen or fifteen or nearly sixteen.

And each time he did, Toya couldn’t help but want to love Akito more than he already did.

|

“He’s in there,” a voice quietly said from outside Akito’s door. He could instantly tell it was Ena, but there wasn’t anyone Akito knew she would invite over. Maybe Mizuki, but Ena would take them directly to her room so they could hang out, and they would definitely not linger outside his door.

So, Akito must know whoever is outside.

And Ena wouldn’t just bring a rando over.

So Akito must know them well.

Akito heard a few whispers and he couldn’t tell who was speaking, but he didn’t move from his place on his bed. It was dark, and he just wanted to sleep right now. It was nice to think before it all fell. “Go away, Ena…” Akito whispered in irritation. Even if they came in to talk to him, why should he care if they judge his filth? He didn’t want them over. He didn’t want anyone to come in. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. It would be too tiring and it would disrupt the current lump he laid in. He wanted to conserve his energy for later. It was pointless to waste it on people now.

Can’t I breathe my last few breaths in peace?

Would he ever actually go through with it? Would these thoughts just escape his mind, leaving him to do it again? Would this cycle ever break? This life was never ending, whether he died to escape it or not.

But Ena probably brought her friends again to scrutinise Akito’s life under a lens. So, if she really wanted them to do that, it wouldn’t even matter anymore if they stared at every bit of his soul that he left out to die in this room. They could see the clothes on the floor, the plastic wrap from items he’s bought throughout his life and was too lazy to dispose of, the papers cluttered with songs and music and life that he felt were too obscure for anyone to even like.

They would see the random things he picked out from old boxes from his past in order to soothe the heart-shattering strikes he felt every time he thought too hard about his life. Some old paintings– trashed and displayed, some toys he used with Ena, some old children's instruments he enjoyed when they were younger. Some photo albums with his family’s life displayed on each page you could turn. They would see the stars weighing down from above, lighting up the decaying cells of his skin.

If someone wanted to say Shinei Shinonome was a master of art within the family, they would also say that Kanako Shinonome was a master of photography. They married under an artist and philosopher’s romanticization of life, and they wanted to love each other indefinitely. Shinei would paint the most beautiful and heartfelt portraits of his lover, and Kanako would photograph glimpses of their lives framed in a way that would make even nihilists and pessimists long for what they had.

They wanted their children to follow in their footsteps, but they were severely disappointed.

Akito was dozing off, but he still registered the gentle knock echoing on his door. A voice all too familiar started, “Akito? Do you mind if I come in? It’s To–” but his voice was jarring to hear after going so long without hearing it.

“Toya? You’re here?” Akito weakly spoke. He was here. Toya was here, Akito’s partner and perhaps the only person in the world who he shared his soul with, was here. He should leave. Akito just wanted to spend his last day alone. He just wanted to stare at nothing and recollect every memory he’s ever made. His memories with his parents and Ena. His memories with Toya and An and Kohane. His memories on the stage. His memories on the field. His memories living  and existing in this world that was far too fragile for him to continue living in. But was that right? Was this the right thing?

“ Yes, I-I am. Can I come in? ” Toya asked breathlessly, like it was the most important thing to get right in his life. As if he hadn’t been tormented and wracked with the weight of his father’s expectations every breath he took, as if Akito was anything more than someone who he talked to every day.

But Toya was a lot more to Akito than just a person he sat next to at lunch. Toya was a lot more than someone he bounced ideas off of, and he was a lot more than someone who he whined and complained to, even if he sometimes felt like that.

Toya was his best friend. He was one of the biggest constants in his life, even if they hadn’t talked in ages. They were best friends and they were partners. They shared a stage countless times. What could be more intimate than that? Akito didn’t deserve him right now. He didn’t deserve to have a supportive friend when all he’d do was drag him down. But Akito was selfish. He was born selfish.

So Akito said, “Yeah. Come in.”

Akito watched from his spot on the bed, heart hammering beneath his skin, blood flowing through his veins and he felt more alive than he had in ages. He watched the doorknob twist like it was in slow motion, and he forgot about all of the mess that littered the room. He couldn’t think, couldn’t think, couldn’t think about anything but the door opening to his partner.

The door opened, and Toya was illuminated by only the yellowed hallway lights behind him. Akito’s room was completely dark and lacking light, and his eyes felt uncomfortable adjusting to the light. But once he did, he felt like his breath was caught in his throat. Toya was looking at his room, but not with the judgemental look that Akito originally expected.

There wasn’t pity in his eyes. There weren’t misguided attempts at care like there had been the last time Akito saw him. Toya was looking at Akito like he finally knew what was wrong and like he knew he could help him get through it. Like Toya knew, as his partner, he could guide him to get help.

“Toya…” Akito couldn’t help but speak, voice breaking barely above a whisper. There wasn’t pity in Toya’s eyes, but there were certainly tears and a heartbroken expression. Toya didn’t say anything, but he instead walked easily over all of the filth and garbage and clothes (that likely had drops of crusted blood on them–) like there was nothing easier in the world and it wasn’t disgusting to do. Toya had seen what his room looked like in all of its versions, where his bed was against another wall or when he had a smaller desk, or when it was cleaner and more organised. And now it was just a room occupied by a sinner.

Toya walked over to the side of Akito’s bed and opened some of the blinds to let the outside light in. It was around six pm and the sun was in the middle of setting. Toya got on his knees so that he could be at the same eye level as Akito, who still hadn’t moved his head from his sunken-in pillow, and Akito’s body felt heavy.

He didn’t want to move, and he felt scared, so he hid his face from Toya with his left hand, not caring about scraping his mangled wrists against the covers. His fingers were sweaty as they gripped onto his nose and eyes. Akito loved Toya’s company, but right now, it would be terrifying to even look at a stranger, let alone make eye contact with his partner. It didn’t make it easier that Toya always looked stupidly gorgeous.

Akito was so weak. He felt so horrifically stupid— it was almost laughable how he couldn’t control his body or emotions. Fifteen, nearly sixteen years of being alive and he couldn’t even be normal. He couldn’t function correctly and take care of his body and hygiene, he neglected his personal relationships because of dumb laziness, and he literally cut his skin because he couldn’t regulate how he felt. Because he cried like a stupid baby every night yet laughed at the most mundane and shitty memes online immediately afterwards. 

Was any of it even real? He had been living to do nothing, to continue decomposing. He wasn’t contributing to society, he hadn’t in weeks. He stopped going to work, stopped going to school, stopped performing and practising to achieve the dreams he’d worked towards for years. He threw it all away for his own selfish dreams. And yet, He just stopped. He ruined this family, he ruined this home, he ruined these relationships and the blood that he shed was a result of his own idiocy. Was any of it even real?

Someday, I hope that this feeling will leave.

“Akito, can you move over so I can be next to you?” Toya asked, his voice kind but not faltering as if he were unsure of what to do.

Akito’s pretty sure that simply moving would let out a disgusting waft of air. Hadn’t cleaned himself or brushed his teeth in ages, sleeping in the same dirty sheets and the same sweaty and likely bloody clothes. I probably smell like complete shit.

Akito was mortified at the thought.

It hurt. It hurt to feel so small and weak. To feel so small and so, so pathetic. In the face of another person, even.

Akito felt so much shame. Pure, unadulterated shame. He was not a human, he was something that had fallen from the sky and died upon impact. And now he was just a rotting corpse.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Just leave me to die. Just please leave me to die.

“I’m dirty…” he whispered, trying to blink away the rising tears in his eyes. He tried to swallow the thick lump in his throat in turn but doing so only made liquid trickle from his eyes. Toya never stopped looking at him with adoration in his eyes. He grabbed Akito’s left hand from where it covered his face, and he held on gently with his own.

Akito was wearing a short-sleeved shirt because the heat from being bundled up for hours was uncomfortable, but he didn’t pull away from Toya, even if he saw everything on his wrists, and forearms, and shoulders, It was Okay now, It didn’t matter if Toya saw the healed and unhealed scars, the extremely fresh or the old, the clean or the jagged, the ones he added to earlier that day, Because Akito would be—

“At this point, I think I would roll around naked in a landfill if it meant I could be next to you,” Toya laughed. His eyes flickered down to stare more at the dozens and hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions (when did they ever end?) of lines on his partner’s arms, staring into the exposed yellow fat and spotted blood springing from beneath his slowly thinning limbs. From behind his hiding hand, Akito watched Toya’s face falter. Toya let go of Akito’s hand and gently pulled away, turning towards the drawers on Akito’s desk. He opened them slowly, rummaging and looking through the countless other things, other blades, to look for something in particular.

“What are you looking for?” Akito asked, voice weak and slightly muffled by the hand that had slowly been sliding down his face.

“Where do you keep your first aid?” Toya chirped, as if it were a small question asked in passing without much weight to it.

Akito never used any types of first-aid– If his skin were to get infected and maggots grew into it, there wouldn’t really be much change in feeling. But after Ena wrapped him up the first time, and the second time, and the times after that, she kept restocking a supply in his room in the hopes he would start using it. He never did.

“I think Ena put some in the bottom green drawer atop the dresser. Try that, or the white one.” Toya nodded and moved through the shit on the floor to get to the dresser. He slid open the olive-green drawer with its tiny button handle, and pulled out some neosporin spray and white gauze.

He wordlessly returned to Akito’s side by the bed, and slipped both of Akito’s wrists out from under the swampy blankets. He uncapped the spray and gently whispered, “This might hurt a bit,” and pressed down on the aerosol. The cold liquid felt foreign on his skin, but it didn’t hurt any more than the gaping wounds already present that never stopped throbbing. Toya wordlessly unfurled the wrapped up gauze, and slowly started wrapping it tight around the now cleaner patches of open skin. There were so many inconsistent marks that it would’ve been harder to section them off to be wrapped with gauze, so Toya just wrapped every bit of skin he saw. “Better than nothing,” Toya whispered and briefly brought Akito’s free hand to his lips.

He moved Akito over, and slid right next to Akito on his bed. Despite the disgust Akito knew he must’ve been feeling inside, he held Akito. Tenderly in his arms. And Toya’s head was propped up slightly against the pillow Akito was just laying on , alone, and they shared the pillow. And not once did Toya stop looking Akito dead in the eyes, even when the tears started to overflow.

I’m sorry you have to exist with me at your side.

Toya was by Akito’s side like he said he wished he had been for the past few weeks. Toya was by Akito’s side, even when the world seemed to be ending, he was there to lift his partner up, whether it was on a stage or on a decade-old twin-sized mattress.

And still, Akito knew that his mind could not be swayed.

It hurt . He cried silently, body and eyes blank, but face filled with devastating sadness . And Toya’s warm grip, but not suffocating like the warmth Akito had felt for days, only tightened.

“I’m here now. Let it all out. I’ll never judge you,” Toya whispered into his ear.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurts. It hurts to be Akito Shinonome and it hurts to be alive.

He didn’t even know what he was feeling half the time. He was so fucking stupid.

Why did he exist in this way? There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him, and it’s not like he really had anything bad in his life, and he was lucky to have friends and classmates and teammates who were there for them. He was capable of things and he was entitled to things others didn’t have, but sometimes his body just felt too heavy.  

There was an always-present sadness that never left, and even in his happiest or greatest moments, he still felt like he was approaching his death. It was always there, even when Akito tried to shun it away. Even when he tried to push through it or tell it to stop, ignoring it only made it worse. When he accepted it, it became harder to live, sure, but it was just easier. He didn’t like it, it made him feel bad, but ignoring it was hard and made good things bad. But if he let it in, he wouldn’t have anything good yet he wouldn’t have to be plagued by the bad.

Or so he thought. When he had his good, he felt that the bad wouldn’t hurt him as much, and he sometimes forgot how horrible the bad felt.

But since it was always there, he would soon be reminded of it and it would consume his life.

But letting it in made others worry.

And for a while, Akito didn’t want anyone to care or wait on him. 

At this point, Akito had already fallen apart. There was no concealing or coming back from it.

The good always stopped. The bad would always come back.

It was so hard.

Akito didn’t want to do it anymore.

He promised himself he wouldn’t do it anymore.

It was supposed to stop ages ago.

It never did.

“I’m so tired,” Akito whispered to Toya. Tears were still leaking from his eyes, but his voice was dead. “That’s completely okay. Don’t feel guilty for how you feel. I’ll always do anything for you,” Toya whispered back. “I can’t not be guilty when someone like you has to be around me,” Akito said slowly. Half his words were incoherent, but Toya knew him so well that there weren’t any issues in understanding him. Toya had dealt with Akito for years. He knew how Akito’s speech fell when he was tired and he could more than easily adapt.

Toya snuggled his head into Akito’s neck. “Nobody is forcing me to be here. I basically begged Ena for weeks to let me see you, and I’m finally here now because she thinks you need it the most. It’s almost been four weeks.” Four weeks? Has it really been so long?

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry for being like this.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Please just stop lying.

“There’s everything for me to be sorry for.”

“I wish you were able to take better care of yourself, but since you cannot right now, I’ll be here to support you. You just have to let me help, Akito.”

I’m too tired to talk, let alone breathe and care.

“I can’t do that.”

I can’t bring you any further into this than I already have.

“Yes, you can. It hurts me more to see you like this than it would hurt me to carry the world for you.”

But I really can’t. This is what I’ve accepted. This is the life I lived. And it will always be this.

“I’m too tired to try.” I’m going to die anyways.

“Then, I’ll try for you. Do you really think I would ever give up on you, no matter what sacrifices are needed?”

You should. It would be easier that way.

Akito turned away from Toya and broke his body out of his partner’s arms.

There was a long and poignant moment where nothing was said or done. Akito just went limp and laid there. Toya didn’t feel uncomfortable in his bed, but he just wanted to look at Akito. It was deathly quiet.

“Toya.”

“I care about you more than anything else in the world, Akito.”

“I wish I were dead.”

Akito felt a shiver roll down his spine. I think you know it too.

“I think everything would be better that way.” His voice cracked into a whisper.

The room was almost pitch dark and sunlight from outside no longer lit up the room. Toya pulled Akito’s right shoulder until Akito lay flat on his back so they could look at the stars on the ceiling together. Toya clasped Akito’s right hand with his left, and lightly lifted his right hand to point at a barely noticeable constellation order.

“Is that Harpa Georgii? My dad told me about it when I was a kid since it took the shape of a harp. A lot of people have forgotten it as a constellation since it doesn’t exist anymore, but my dad mentioned it a lot— something about forgotten musicians having an impact on the stars,” Toya explained slowly, like he lagged his voice so an exhausted Akito could still follow.

“Toya, I don’t think I’d affect the stars if I died.”

“You know, I never liked when he mentioned it. I always felt like there were too many expectations to live up to.” Toya laughed, “It was only after meeting you that I realised your existence doesn’t have to affect the entire universe. Life can still be made into something so beautiful that your own universe is changed.”

“I have too much to make up for to think otherwise. And plus, it was Tsukasa-senpai who made you think that.”

“He set the idea in my head, but you were like the catalyst that refined the idea. You set the notion on fire.”

“So what? I’m an enzyme now? And you’re the substrate?”

“Yeah. As one, we become the enzyme-substrate complex– also known as BAD DOGS. We fit perfectly with each other, we were made to partner only together. Ha, I can’t believe you remember the class we went over that with.”

You’re so stupid. Akito turned his head to stare at Toya, who was staring right back at him. Okay. Toya looked really dumb with the way he was looking at Akito. And for a moment, Akito kinda wanted to live if it meant being there with Toya forever. Toya looked so dumb. And it was nice, but it would always return.

“I can’t believe you set up a biology reference to cheer me up. And of course I did, you were nagging me the whole class since it was a joint classroom lesson…”

“Well, did it work?” Toya’s eyes were glimmering with amusement and he clearly wanted to laugh.

“Only because it’s you, jackass.” His voice was still grainy from underuse.

And Toya blinked once with innocent and bright and big and stupid eyes, and that one blink is all it took for Akito to start giggling, the sticky tear tracks on his face left forgotten. And the giggle was possessed into a laugh, and Toya started to laugh with Akito because he didn’t want him to feel alone. And Toya wanted to share every moment with Akito, every feeling, so he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re actually so stupid. I told you I kinda wanted to die, and then you go and be an idiot and stare at me with those adorable and dumb-ass bug eyes,” Akito laughed out.

“Oh, so it’s ‘kinda’, now?”

“You’re a dumbass.”

“ You called me adorable .”

You really fucking are.

“I called your eyes adorable, Aoyagi.”

Toya froze and looked Akito dead in the eyes. A terrifyingly loving smile perked on Toya’s lips. He opened his mouth before closing it again as if he wasn’t sure about saying it. And Akito thought that every movement he made was beautiful.

So maybe, Akito wanted to feel the happiness he felt with Toya again. And maybe, just maybe, the bad could dissipate a bit when he was with Toya.

But it would always be selfish. Akito was just pulling him down.

“I love you, Akito.”

Toya squeezed his face into a smile.

“And I’ll always love you even if you don’t feel the same. I’m going to love you forever for who you are, not just what you can or can’t do.”

“Toya–” Please stop talking. I’m supposed to die soon. My heart cannot take this,

“No matter what you say, I’ll always care about you because I like you and love you and want to be your partner. I don’t care if it’s in music, or school, or in life, but that’s just the truth. I don’t love you for shallow things, I just genuinely can’t imagine myself without you. There are so many times when I can’t think about anything but you, and I want to get you help,” Toya confessed, and Akito just couldn’t think straight.

Akito knew that he loved Toya, without a single doubt in the world, and there were times when he thought Toya had to have at least liked him back. But now that he heard the impact he had on Toya, there was nothing he could feel but guilt.

The smile on Akito’s face fell, and Toya looked fearful. Akito had to clarify.

“If you don’t–”

“I love you, Toya. I’ve loved you for years in ways incomparable to anything else. But I feel…” Akito paused.

What did he feel?

What did Akito feel, if not regret or guilt? Anger with himself?

If not pity for others for being forced to be around him.

Pity.

Akito has never been treated with feelings of anything more than pity, so it was something that made his skin crawl and blood boil .

Akito hated pity, because it was all he had for his whole life.

But, he realised, Akito really hated pity because it was all he felt for himself.

A stupid amount of disgusting self-pity.

And Akito felt like an idiot.

“Someone like you can’t love someone like me,” Akito finally understood. And it hurt more than anything to admit out loud. It hurts to speak into the world. It hurt to admit. It felt like there was a cavity in his chest where his heart belonged. A gaping, obnoxious, and painful gap that would probably sound hollow if someone banged something against his chest. It hurt like a sob preemptively stuck in his throat during an argument with the people he loved the most in this world.

“...Who are you? What type of person are you? Because I know that the words you’re saying aren’t true. Akito, you’re incredible and you can do incredible things!” Toya squeezed his eyes shut in slight frustration. “I’ve loved you since you were a random kid who walked the streets with a dream, and I still love you now that you’ve blossomed into one of the greatest talents I’ve ever seen. No matter what you do, or however talented you think you are, that will never change.”

“It’s not that I can’t do anything, I just can’t do anything up to standard, and I can only do the bare minimum. What’s expected of me. And I can’t– I’m not incredible like you say, I’m bitter, and lazy, and abrasive, and I’m so tired of it. I just– I don’t–” Akito stammered. There were no words in any language that could explain exactly how he felt. Akito and Toya were sitting on the bed now, instead of lying down, and Toya was holding Akito as they leaned against the wall and Akito cried .

“All of those words you use to describe yourself are words that were planted into your head. They’re not true. People want to bring you down because they see how amazing and strong and talented you are, and your mind makes the words stick because it forces itself into thinking you deserve it. You don’t.”

Akito tried to rub the tears from his face, but it only caused more to fall. He saw his sleeveless arms, with all the sins he committed displayed on them for Toya to see. Toya had seen them before, but even if it was only the two of them, Akito felt ignominy as if everyone in his school was seeing it. Like he was bare and alone on the front of a stage in a packed theatre of thousands of people.

“How do you do it, Toya? How can you live like a normal person? It always hurts too much–” he cracked out and wrapped his arms around one of Toya’s arms. “I’m always so tired, and I always feel like complete shit . It’s like it never leaves me alone, and I can’t do anything because of it.

“How can you… just exist without feeling awful?”

Akito didn’t get it. Why didn’t it stop already?

“I’m sorry Akito… I… I’m so sorry you have to feel this way. It’s not normal and we can get you help. I’ll always support you,” Toya whispered consolations in his ear.

You don’t get it.

I want to die. I want this to stop. I’ve paved this path with my own hands, and you can’t strip it away from me.

I do not need your help, I need your acceptance.

Toya couldn’t just show up for the first time in weeks and ask him to stay now. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. Akito loved Toya, but he would never love breathing as much as he loved him.

And it hurt. It hurts. Nothing would hurt more than the realisation of his death. Let me stop breathing. Let me stop existing. Just let it go now. I just want to stop.

“Nothing and nobody can change this–” his voice was increasing in volume and speed, desperate for Toya to just understand already that this was the end of his road, and he paused to cough, the dryness overwhelming his throat as much as it did his mind. He started again at a whisper, “It always just gets bad in the end. No matter what I do, even if I completely change myself, there’s no changing the world. I can do everything, but absolutely nothing would change. It’s all just the same, and I will regress back to this in the end,” he was snotting at this point, words barely understandable behind the crying.

And this was it. This was his fate. I am so sorry for wasting all of these years of your time.

Toya didn’t say anything. How could anybody say anything to someone like Akito? How could anybody have any sympathy or empathy for him? Why would Toya, Toya Aoyagi want to offer care to someone so pathetic–

Toya pulled Akito to sit right next to him, and Toya wrapped his whole body around him to support him. Toya pushed back Akito’s disgustingly greasy bangs with his hand and placed a gentle kiss on Akito’s forehead.

Oh. Akito’s shoulders were wracked with sobs. Nobody had really, ever, treated him like this. But he knew it would be over soon.

Please just let me die, let this body stop and let me sleep

Please, please, please, please, just let it happen

Nothing will change, nothing has changed,

“I wish you could see even a fraction of how much you mean to me,” Toya whispered as he grabbed his hand and stared Akito in the eyes. His index finger curled up to sweep the wet from Akito’s eyes, but it only made more pour out. “I’m sorry that it took me years to tell you–”

“No, don’t say sorry,” Akito wept out and his voice was louder, like he were screaming at Toya to let it happen, let it happen, let it happen, let it happen,

“I have to, Akito. I saw it for years; how you closed yourself off, how it seemed like you had no life left. I saw from the get-go how you were, and I hate how I just ignored it. You might have never noticed, but I’ve seen the scars you made on yourself multiple times before. I’ve seen them, An has seen them, and so has Kohane, but none of us ever talked about it until recently because we were scared. So I am saying sorry, because I feel that guilt in my soul.”

“Why are you saying sorry? It was never your fault.” 

“I don’t like that you hurt yourself, Akito. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. But that doesn’t mean I hate you for it. I hate how you feel so much pain and you think that pain makes you feel better. I’m so sorry for leaving you to deal with this alone for years. A good friend wouldn’t do that,” Toya whispered in regret. A good friend. A good friend? Toya was far beyond the mere threshold of good– Toya was a perfect friend. Everything anyone could ever ask for. But Akito was selfish and nothing would be enough,

Toya was running his hands through Akito’s hair in an attempt to clean it up a bit. Akito felt soothed by his crying, but it felt like he was being lulled into more sorrow. Like there wasn’t anything he could realistically feel.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just too tired for it all.”

“And you think sleeping it off will help?”

Akito nodded pathetically into Toya’s chest.

“Sleeping it off for the rest of your life?”

Akito didn’t respond. Why should he, when he knew he wouldn’t have a ‘rest of his life’ like Toya said?

“Please talk to me, Akito.”

There is nothing to me. And even if there was, he wouldn’t subject Toya to the torture of having to hear about it.

“I love you. I love you,” Akito muttered after he felt Toya hold him tighter.

“And I love you too. That’s why I want to help you.”

“I don’t need help.” Help won’t do anything. I love you.

“I can’t lose you Akito.” You already have. Just stop. I love you.

“You haven’t lost anything.”

“Without you, I feel like I’ve lost who I am.” You are Toya Aoyagi. You are the whole world. You are the warm light that embraces those who are hurt. I am Akito Shinonome. I am the dirt. I am the ground that people walk on. I am the mess that only causes annoyance. I love you. I am not meant to be loved. I was not made to be loved, or desired, or valued. You can’t need me.

“That’s not healthy. I’m not good for you.”

“Look who’s telling someone what’s healthy and what isn’t. Have you ever even been close to healthy?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’d be better off without me.” You’ve already gone this long, why not continue the streak for eternity?

“You don’t know what’s good for me. You haven’t even talked to me in a month, how are you supposed to know how I feel about you?” 

“I bet that you hate me.” Toya must hate every drop of blood inside Akito’s body. He must hate every cell. He must despise it. Loathe it. Detest the very idea of Akito’s existence. If Akito could do it for himself, then everybody else in the world must agree.

“How could I ever?”

“It’s a natural thing to do. Even if you don’t hate me, An and Kohane probably do. I ruined our group. I ruined how well everything was going, just because I was being like this.” Because I was ignorant.

“How well everything was going? Akito, if this is a result of everything, nothing was going well to begin with.”

“You were all happy. We were getting recognition and success. People said we were getting close to surpassing RAD WEEKEND.”

“None of us want success if it means our family is unhappy.”

“I still eliminated any chance of it. I bet nobody even thinks of us anymore because of the hiatus. And I’m not family. I’m just someone you see every day.”

Toya paused. “Do you really think that lowly of the rest of us?”

Akito was silent. I’m the one who has been holding you all back. 

Toya must wish he never came here.

Toya must want to never speak to him again.

But really, Akito wouldn’t blame him.

The two of them just sat there, for what felt like an eternity. The darkness from outside felt all-consuming. Akito floated in and out of consciousness in the warmth and comfort of the bed he laid in for ages.

“I miss you,” Toya said to him after a while.

“You’re literally cradling me in your arms.”

Toya looked down at their laps, where their hands sat and they laid. “I… I won’t be in a bit.” 

Oh.

“What do you mean…? Are you going somewhere?”

He was always going to leave.

“I know you hate him and all, but my dad’s been a lot better to me than before. He’s just still strict about some rules.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Akito whispered. He was so vulgar . It was coarse. It was uncomfortable. It was repulsive.

“I’m sorry Akito… It’s a school night– he always hates when I’m out late and he wants me to be back early because my brothers are coming home tonight.”

“Oh.” He would be leaving soon.

He was always going to leave.

“I’m so sorry Akito.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t think you would stay, anyways.”

“Don’t say that…” It is not a bad thing for you to want to leave me. I would be disgusted too. But I wish you would stay.

“It’s true, though.”

“What’s true?”

“You never stay,” Akito’s voice was barely above a whisper. And you’ll never come back.

Toya’s face twisted into sadness. “I wish it could be different right now, but this is just a one time thing. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“One-time?” Akito asked like it were a promise.

“One-time.” Toya confirmed. Liar.

“Can we postpone this one-time event? Just this once?” Akito pleaded. It would be the last time he’d see him. He didn’t want it to end. At least, not yet. It was selfish to drag him even deeper into this, but Akito was a very selfish boy.

“I’m so sorry. I wish we could.”

“Don’t go.” Please.

“I’m not going right now.” It’s the same thing.

“You’re going to leave eventually. It’s the same thing.” This will be the last time you even have to leave.

“No, it’s not. I’m here for you right now.”

When I die, I will be gone from this world. I will just leave. And I will stop existing. And any thought of me would be a thought of a dead memory. You will walk through these walls, thinking of me, but I will not be me anymore. I will not exist. My body will rot and be gone and I will be dead. Death has taken me.

‘Right now’ will be nothing in the end.

Death is a funny thing.

“And when you aren’t here for me?” I’m dead when I’m without another by my side. I’m nobody without other people to lend me their bones and skeleton. I’m nothing when I’m by myself.

“Akito, please. It’s just for a little bit.” It’s for forever. But why should it matter anymore?

Akito was tired of this. Akito was tired. Death is a funny thing.

“Time passes by weirdly for me. Everything goes by so fast, and at the same time, it’s so slow. Everything and nothing happens. But you’re right. What does it matter?”

“I’m not telling you that nothing matters.”

“You don’t have to. I already know that.” Nothing will ever matter because I am me and you are you and everybody is everybody but I Am Not Someone Who Matters. 

“Akito–”

“Nothing I will do will ever matter. Not singing like shit on a stage, not any art I make for my sister, not any filtered and strained conversations I have with other people.” No words that I say will ever mean anything. Nothing I make will ever mean anything. Nothing I do will ever mean anything. 

“How could someone tell you such a lie?” You want to keep telling yourself things that aren’t true. Please stop being blind. It’s hard enough as is.

“I have told many lies in my life. This is the one truth that I know better than anything else.” No cuddles or forehead kisses could deny it. Toya and others may try to get him ‘help’, but Akito is nothing without anybody. And it’s not like Akito could even consider asking someone to spend their whole life by his side. In the end, it would all be the same. He would always come back to this.

“Okay, you can think that about yourself. But that doesn’t change the truth others see. Lies are only lies when you perceive them as such.” There’s no way out. There’s no getting better. There’s no being better. Not when you’re me. Not when you live the life I do. Not when you’re as useless and dumb and selfish and cruel and disgusting as me.

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll be over soon.”

“Akito, what’re you talking about?”

It’s okay. It’s not even important. You’ll get over it, anyway.

“Why do you care? Just fucking leave already.” It’ll be easier to accept that it’s all over when you leave. He was so vulgar,

Toya looked hurt. “I still have an hour with you. I don’t need to leave yet.”

When I die, you will eventually forget me. You will not spend your last breath alive on this Earth reminiscing about a boy you knew when you were a teenager. What is one more hour?

“What is an hour anyways? You’re gonna leave eventually, and we’re just sitting here and doing nothing. Just come back later, your dad will be happy if you’re home sooner than he asked.” There is no later. This is my goodbye to you. There is no helping it.

“Akito…”

“I don’t need you here. Tell Ena you’re leaving on your way out.” Akito pulled away from Toya to lay down, curled, away from where Toya was sitting beside the wall. I need you to go. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve done it for so long.

Akito used his hands as pillows, but the angle left him staring right back at his diseased and scarred wrists peeking out of the gauze. They were rough, and tracked, and they hurt to touch—

Toya let out a small gasp. Akito’s lip fell and he did the same. “You say you love me, but recently, you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing,” Toya whispered as if his heart was torn in two.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m horrible.

I need you to leave right now.

My heart can’t handle this much longer.

“I’m a bad person, Toya. Don’t you know that by now?” Tell me that you hate me.

Tell me the truth. Please?

“…Good night, Akito. I’ll come to see you tomorrow, if you’d like,” Toya’s voice slightly broke. You will not see me tomorrow. Nobody will see me tomorrow. The only thing you’ll see is my dead body strewn across my floor. I will not see you again. And I am sorry that you have been witness to my falling. And I am sorry that I say these words that I do not mean. I don’t blame you for your dishonesty, but, still.

I’ll always think of you.

What will you think of me after I die?

…Will you think of me after I die?

“Please,” Akito whispered in the dark. This world was a beautiful place.

I just want this feeling to stop.

The fan on the side was too loud, and Akito’s whisper was drowned out. This world was a beautiful place.

Toya picked himself off the bed and opened the door. But he hesitated. Toya looked back to Akito who was curled into himself and staring up at him with a blank face.

“I love you, Akito. But I hope you recognize how much your life changes others.” Of course I know it. I’ve been trying to shut myself off from you all so that I can stop changing your lives. Stop ruining them. Stop existing in them. Stop being present in them.

To leave them all alone. To lift the burden of knowing Akito Shinonome off their shoulders.

Toya closed the door, but Akito could hear him bidding farewell to Ena in the hallway.

His room was dark. It was quiet, but it felt loud. Like he was being deafened by the crushing weight of absolute nothingness. 

He didn’t feel. He could feel the same fucking blankets on his side . He didn’t hear. He could hear the rickets and creaks of his old ceiling fan that he’d memorised since he was an infant . He didn’t see. He could see the opened box cutter on his desk, glinting in the miniscule amounts of light.

Everything felt like nothing.

And Akito absolutely hated it.

He could do nothing. He could not think about anything. He was just there. Akito was just alive and breathing with no reason to do so. There was no excuse for him to live for so long. He was just scared.

But in those empty moments, Akito accepted death.

Akito ripped himself out of the comfort and protection of his bed after being stationary for a few minutes. There would be no more comfort. No more relief of his sagging bones that wanted to do no more than collapse to the floor.

Akito turned on the dim lamp on his desk, and the letters he wrote to those closest to his heart were easily seen. The names of those he loved on the letters dedicated to them. They were all laid out perfectly to be found, along with him. Akito had selected one lengthy letter for everyone else out of the dozens he’d written for them, but Ena had each letter sent out to her name. Akito knew that it was the least she deserved.

She deserved a full explanation, and an apology.

For why her little brother was sorry for both entering and leaving her life.

Akito loved Ena more than anyone else in the world. He shouldn’t be allowed to love someone so incredible. It was just like Toya, it was just like everything else. He shouldn’t be allowed to have these feelings that make him human.

But he had to take his leave. He had to die. He had to be the one to pull the trigger and shut out the lights on his own body. It was okay. It was okay. There was nothing.

Akito had expected this outcome for years.

Next to the letters was his box cutter– the one he had used billions and trillions of times before. The one he had studied and seen and traced with his fingertips many times. It wasn’t his first one, but it was his most recent one. A full bottle of pills were next to it; the anti-depressants his mom never took.

He picked up a glass of water that Ena brought to him and unscrewed the cap, pushing down and twisting to bypass the child lock. Child lock– ha. Here Akito was, a legal child, killing himself after the child lock did nothing to buffer. Everything was amusing when you were dying. Everything was amusing when you had nothing left.

He held the bottle up to his mouth. He stood alone, in his bedroom, his older sister talking to her friends in the room right over. Her friends who he had later been acquainted with. Some, he knew by name. These people he met and created bonds with. Who he’d shared secrets with.

He thought of the hundreds of people he had talked to in the span of his entire life. Those people, with their own lives and families. He thought of them in detail. The goals they had made. The emotions they felt. The feelings they harboured towards other human beings. Their dreams. The life that they possessed.

The world was so wide and vast, and Akito had only seen the smallest fragment of it. Small scenes that everyone saw differently.

I see a different scene in my eyes. What fragment of the world do you see?

Was Akito okay with dying? Was he okay with cutting it all short? Was this really the path he decided to take? Would this be the best for everyone involved? Would it hurt anybody more than he planned it to? Maybe so, but there is no soul alive who could not continue living without Akito.

They could adjust. It would be much easier without him disrupting everything. He didn’t have to be scared anymore.

He tilted the bottle back, and he heard the hard-shell pills clanking around in his mouth. They luckily weren’t powdered pills, so it was less disgusting to swallow. He took a large sip of the glass but he nearly choked on the dozens of pills sliding down his throat. Was there enough water? He felt a sting in his throat when he swallowed each tablet. It was like choking down sobs in the face of another human.

Akito didn’t like the feeling.

He was going to die, but he wanted to at least feel happy doing it. It had been far too long since he felt that way.

He grabbed the sharp box-cutter from the desk and looked closely to the tip of the blade to ensure it wasn’t dull. Pain made him feel good. It made him feel worthy. It made him feel like he deserved everything he was given. He unwrapped the gauze Toya had barely tightened an hour ago.

One deep cut. A slash. A gaping injury. Akito tore at the skin above his veins like he was a soldier being commanded to kill. The skin retracted and it was a beautiful shredding of his flesh; he saw deep into the structure of his limb. He could see the fascia beneath his dermis, and he saw the bubble pattern from the fat on his bones. The layer that held his bones, his nerves, his blood vessels, was jarring. It was gross and unnatural, but Akito had wondered why he didn’t do this sooner.

The pain was so vivid it overwhelmed every feeling in his body. “Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Akito swore. It was boiling, it was blistering, it short-circuited his mind, it was unimaginable, it was what he always wanted.

Blood easily poured. This wasn’t a miniscule act of self-harm like he was so used to; it needed to do more than just hurt. It needed to be the last thing he ever felt. Akito needed to die. He wanted to die. There was nothing left on this planet for him. He needed to die before more things were ruined. The pain made him feel delirious. The blood was pretty. It was relieving. It was all he ever needed.

This was the missing key in his life. The key was to just end it. Cut it short, some would say, but really, Akito had been alive for much longer than he was owed.

This is for the better. It would all be over soon. This is for the better. Everything ends, and Akito’s life would be the next to end. Before everything goes to even further shit and more people have to suffer because of him.

The pain numbed his mind and he felt sweat trickle down his forehead. Nobody wanted him here. Wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t Worth It.

This is for the better. Akito knows it’s for the better. The box-cutter went deeper and he felt his other arm begin dripping with viscous blood. Blood. It was just blood. It didn’t matter if his was dripping on the floor– everyone had blood. Everyone had seen their blood before. It wasn’t bad, it was just blood. Akito could handle a little bit of blood. Akito could handle a lot of blood.

This is for the better. 

This is for the better. They would all continue to be happy without him.

This is for the better. Don’t worry, Ena. Mom and Dad will be okay again. They’ll be able to proudly call you their daughter, and I’ll be a distant memory. You wouldn’t worry about me anymore. You won’t have to be held down to me.

Their parents wouldn’t have to worry about fixing anything again when they got back because Akito had already erased the problem. The Shinonomes, a loving family once more. There was so much he’d ruined, so much that he held them back from. And Akito couldn’t live with himself. He was so selfish. He wanted everything in the world and barely did enough to repent for what he’s taken. Dying was the only option. He was the only one in the world who could make things better for him. There was no other way, nobody could change anything except for him. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I will be gone and gone and gone and I will cease to exist and you will forget about me and this will mean nothing and it will be nothing and it is Too late, I don’t want to die,

He dug the blade into his wrists again. Some of the old blade disappeared into his flesh. It was mind-numbing and took over every function in his body. His hands twitched and he dropped the blade onto the floor, right into the blood pooling on the hardwood. He was practically ripping chunks of flesh off of his body.

Akito couldn’t think . The pain was too overwhelming. It felt like he was being tortured– murdered brutally, but really, this was all according to his own volition. He was just hovering above his desk and he saw the clean, white letters, felt his throat start to tingle and stomach burn, heard the breaths he was constantly letting in and out of the body he broke all by himself. The hot, stabbing, and horrendous pain made him want to bend over and retch, but sweat fell into his eyes and he had trouble wiping it off with the parts of his arms that didn’t have blood sticking to them.

He once heard that in order for the human body to be beyond repair, someone would have to lose 30% of their blood, but 14% usually does the trick. Akito wondered how long it would take for him to get to that point. He felt his throat and esophagus tighten. It was getting hard to breathe. Why was it getting hard to breathe?

He hadn’t bled enough yet. Maybe it wouldn’t work until he let out more. He tried to pick up the box-cutter on the floor, but he felt his body get heavy and he just fell over.

His eyesight was woozy and his head started to pound like he was drunk. Drunk. He felt drunk. He hadn’t been drunk in days. How did he know what it was like to be drunk? How many times had he been drunk before? From his position on the floor, he looked onto his desk. And there was blood.

There was blood on the desk. There was blood on the letters. A small pool of it that would render the letters illegible. Only Ena’s letters had blood on them.

Ena. Ena. Ena.

Ena wouldn’t be able to read Akito’s last thoughts to her. She wouldn’t be able to hear the words he wanted to say to her.

Ena wouldn’t be aware of anything.

Ena wouldn’t know.

Akito would be dead. And Ena wouldn’t know.

Ena wouldn’t know. Ena wouldn’t know anything. Ena wouldn’t know how much she meant to him. Ena wouldn’t know that everything she did was incredible to him. Ena wouldn’t know how she was the sun who nourished Akito. Ena wouldn’t know how much he treasured her. Ena wouldn’t know that she was his favourite person. Ena wouldn’t know that Akito thought she was really annoying but was the best person he knew. Ena wouldn’t know that he did everything for her. Ena wouldn’t know how sorry he was. 

Ena wouldn’t know that he loved to paint her because he thought she was beautiful and she was so interesting and she was so lovely and she was so kind and she was so strong and she was so bold and she was everything Akito ever wanted to be in his life and

Ena Wouldn’t Know How Much Akito Loved Her.

Akito couldn’t go without telling her. She had to know. Akito couldn’t bear the thought of her not knowing. He felt tears roll down his face. He couldn’t.

But Ena was right down the hall. Ena was in the same building as him. Same house. Same monument of memories that they had shared over the past fifteen years. Ena was so close. Ena couldn’t read the letters, but maybe he could tell her. He could tell her, before he died.

Before he was dead. Before he was gone from this world. Before he could no longer be called her little brother because he was nothing more than a corpse no longer occupied by a sad boy.

Akito reached his red hands towards his door. The blood coated his fingertips and his doorknob was sticky when he twisted it. He pulled himself onto his feet as best as he could, but he was swaying and he felt like he had the worst case of vertigo of his life. He stepped out into the hallway and leaned against the walls as he dragged his feet across the floor. He felt blood drip and smear in-between his toes and small amounts of red were slathered on the walls.

It felt beautiful. His blood thrown everywhere to be seen.

He was in front of Ena’s door. He could hear her voice and laughs from inside the room. Should he open it? Should he knock? He should knock. His head felt empty with pain.

Akito knocked on Ena’s door. “Ena…?”

Ena’s voice quieted down and she let out a sigh. “What is it, Akito? ” she asked from the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” Please let me come in. I need you to know. I can't die Like this.

“Is there something you need? I’m kinda busy right now…” I’m sorry for bothering you.

“Can you just come out then? I need to talk to you…” It was getting harder for Akito to lean against the door. He felt like he would fall any minute. Blood kept on dripping from the deep gashes he left on his wrists.

Ena let out a sigh, “Yeah sure, alright. Sorry guys, I’ll just be gone for a second.” But Akito didn’t hear her press any keys to mute herself. Maybe she forgot. Maybe they’d hear it all. But he did hear the sound her wired headphones always made when she put them around her neck. They were gaming headphones– the cord was insanely long and could reach from her desk to her door. Ena got up from her chair and Akito could see the door handle twist from the inside.

She pulled the door open incredibly fast, and Akito felt his body give out since it was leaning on the closed door. Ena caught Akito’s light body in her much smaller arms, and she seemed to be frozen when they fell to the floor. Her taut headphone cord had gone loose from being unplugged from the fall and they could hear what the other Nightcord members were saying in the background.

Why was she frozen? What was wrong?

Ena screamed.

“What? No, no, Akito—” her voice was stuck. It was tense but unfulfilled, like a string being pressed down too loosely on an instrument to play a clear sound. Akito saw her face from his position on the floor with her. Her eyes were wide. Why were they so wide?

“Enanan? Is everything alright with Aki-bro?” Mizuki asked, their voice panged with concern from what they likely heard from Ena’s side.

“I’m sorry for everything Ena. I have a lot to tell you…” It was hard to speak, even if he knew what he had to say. It was weird. His vocal cords felt raggedly like they were about to crumble to sandpaper. His eyes hurt. His head throbbed. Akito didn’t like this.

“O-Oh my god. Oh my g-god. I need my phone, I need my phone, fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck, where is i-it– Akito there’s so much fucking b-blood– what the–” It’s okay, Ena. You won’t have to worry anymore.

“Blood? What’s going on? Is he hurt?” Akito heard Kanade worriedly ask from the computer. Oh. Kanade? Ena had harsh tears coming down her face and she kept on frantically screaming. Why are you scared? Ena, let me speak to you.

“Kanade…? Is that you? It’s been a while…” Akito drearily asked. “Ena-san, did Akito do something? ” Akito heard Asahina ask quietly through the speakers. Akito felt Ena try to move around and look on her bed for something, but it was hard with Akito on her lap. She lifted her head to try and look on her desk, but there was nothing. She twisted and extended and did all of these movements, but for what? There was nothing.

“M-Mizuki– Oh my god Akito, it’s okay you’re gonna be fucking okay– you know my address. Can you call for an ambulance!? I can’t find my fucking phone, oh my fucking god–” It was hard for Ena to breathe. She was trying to breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe? This was important.

Ena kept trying to pull her own clothes off and wrap them around his arms, but the blood soaked through too fast and she couldn’t easily get up to get something else to use. Ena, what are you doing? Why are you doing this?

“Ena, I have to tell you something.” Akito gasped in his big sister’s arms. He started blinking a lot to keep his eyes open. He tried to cough so that the saliva pooling in his mouth could reach the dryness of his throat. It tasted toxic.

“I just called an ambulance, they said it’ll be five to ten minutes until they’re there. What’s going on? Please, what’s happening?” Mizuki responded, their voice shaky and panicky. Why were they panicking? Was it because of something Akito did? Why did he have to do everything wrong?

“Y-Yeah, what is it Akito– please stay with me, oh my god, please,” Ena was trying to take her bedsheets and tie them around his bleeding and disgustingly mangled wrists. She was crying. She was crying a lot. Her shoulders were shaking with tight sobs.

But Akito felt a smile take over his face. Now she would know.

“I love you, Ena.” I always will.

“Oh my go-god. Stop saying that, Akito. Don’t say that. You don’t have to s-say that, I already k-know.” Ena sobbed out. Her words weren’t coming through in coherent words, but Akito still knew what she was saying. His head felt like a hammer was banging on it every second. His stomach was twisting and he was sweating as much as he was bleeding.

“Thank you for being my big sister.” I love you. Sorry for being annoying.

“The ambulance is on its way. It’ll b-be there soon. They’re saying to hang tight.” Mizuki kept saying. Kanade and Asahina were telling Mizuki to head to the hospital and that they’d be there soon. Apparently, they had to all be there together. Akito couldn’t think what for.

“I’m never going to stop. You’re my little brother, Akito. I love you, please stay awake. I know it h-hurts, but please k-keep talking to me.” Ena was holding him close to her chest, tugging the make-shift tourniquet tighter around his arms.

Akito heard another loud voice yelling from downstairs. He heard someone running up the stairs and calling his and Ena’s names in concern. 

“Thank you for being so cool. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for being so good to me,” Akito laughed. “Thank you for being everything.”

Would this be enough? These words were the barest of minimums of how he felt about Ena. Ena just kept saying no.

“Was it a lot of responsibility? I’m sorry for making it harder.” I’m sorry I took everything from you.

“No, no, you didn’t make it harder. I’m s-sorry. I’m so, so, sorry for everything, Akito. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. I love y-you. Please hang in there. I can’t lose you too,” Ena pleaded with him. Lose him? Akito has already been lost. (how to put into words a vain man’s calls to the Void when he crumbles atop the canyon, (it is dark,) bellows are heard near the Shore, so brief, so   Distant. it has been lost, he is lost, so he begs them of the question, when did these screams ever reach your children?)

“Why are you sorry…? It was because of me, but it’ll be easier for you...” It was hard to breathe and squeeze out words. He couldn’t form words and it was hard to think. He felt his insides churn and he felt coughs and spit rise up his throat. HIs mouth felt gummy and gelatinous, like it was stuck in a mold that didn’t allow it to move.

“It won’t, it never will, Akito please, please, please, please. I need you, please–” Ena was crying into his shoulder and holding him tight in her lap, not caring about the blood that was getting on her. Her face was sad. She clutched him tight and her face was excruciatingly sad. 

Akito didn’t want to make her sad. His skin prickled all over and everything felt warm. He felt like he was floating, but he knew he was in Ena’s arms, safe and sound. He would be safe. He would leave but it would be okay because his big sister was right there. Even if they fought all the time and she hated him (with every right to do so), Akito would be okay. She kissed his forehead over and over like she was trying to breathe life back into his body.

He felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Akito heard someone open Ena’s door. Through the wisps of brown hair in his face, he could make out the face of their mother. She was staring wide-eyed and in… horror? at Akito’s body that slowly grew limper. There was a scream and she moved her hands to cover up her open mouth and Ena twisted her sobbing head to look at their mom, “ Mama! Akito– he–” Akito heard Ena pathetically scream out with her face scrunched up, her sobs were ugly and despairing and she sounded so terrified, Akito could feel her shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, desperate to break free from the branch and be taken over, Did he do that? Akito didn’t know anymore, he didn’t know anything, he just knew he was dying.

Their mom rushed to the floor where Ena was cradling him. “A-Aki..o– m..baby... Am..ul…nce…… how… long…okay—…so sorry…” Akito couldn’t hear her words clearly. It was like nothing could get into his brain. Nothing nothing nothing But that was what he wanted?

He was blinking to keep his eyes open, but it was hard either way. He felt Ena’s tears fall into his face from above. He heard other people rush into Ena’s room and he felt his body get lifted onto a moving object. It was loud and he heard a blaring alarm. There was yelling of commands, and in his blurred and scarce vision he saw fuzzy and bright lights. He felt himself going in and out of consciousness, but the feeling of people all over him wracked his senses.

After a certain point, he couldn’t recognise anything but Ena’s crying. He had heard it so many times before, yet he never wanted to hear it again. But if was dead, he never would. Who was it that made Ena cry? She was sobbing like the biggest pain was being inflicted on her. It sounded like she was being hurt horrifically and her heart was being physically torn apart.

The sirens began to fade in his ears and everything began to blend together.

Everything felt so soft.

Ena never let go of his hand.

Chapter Text

They made Ena let go of his hand.

They said he was losing too much blood and they needed to take him immediately to an operating Emergency Room. They said he had taken pills, too. It wasn’t just the wounds and blood loss that could kill him. His body was just ready to give up and they needed to do everything they could to save him.

They said that there were other recent wounds found that had a chance of getting infected and they needed to stop his bleeding and clean and suture and stitch his wounds and they cauterised some of them in the ambulance so the bleeding would settle and they needed to pump his stomach so the pills would stop taking effect and there was a high likelihood that he wouldn’t make it and they were too late because they lived far away from the hospital so it took almost thirty minutes for them to get there–

They left Ena alone in the ER waiting room, sobbing into her hands and body caked with blood. Her hands hovered in the air, and from her position in her chair, her violently red hands stood out against the pristine, white, tile floor. Their mom was allowed to go into the room with Akito, but Ena had to stay outside, alone to the world and left in this barren wasteland. Her shirt and pants were splattered with sticky blood. She loved these clothes. But maybe she was selfish for thinking so when Akito had a million more pains than her.

Ena was never one to numb to her violent emotions, so she wept and murmured for what felt like an eternity. Sometimes she was sobbing and shoulders heaving– almost gagging like she was going to be sick and this was an unbelievable event in her life. Sometimes she was trying to scratch and peel and scrape the blood off her, only to get more stuck under her fingernails. Sometimes she stared off with silent tears streaming down her face like she was in a drama film.

Sometimes she would just hold her hand, pretending it was Akito’s, and she would cry into it.

When Mizuki came running into the ER, Kanade and Mafuyu followed suit, Ena’s entire face was wet with sweat and tears and blood she accidentally rubbed on it.

Mizuki ran up to her, their face pink with tears and face smothered with worry. “Ena! How is Akito right now? Are they treating him?” Mizuki yelled. Ena looked up from her hands. Her face was bright red and stuffy. ‘ Are they treating him?’

Ena broke into an ugly sob for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Oh, Ena…” Mizuki ran over to Ena and held her tight in their arms, position awkward as they were standing up and Ena was sitting down. Ena just cried into Mizuki’s middle, trying to stick her bloody arms out and not touch Mizuki with them.

“ T-They said he was losing a lot of blood, a-and that he might not make it –” Her voice cracked into a whimper. “He took a bottle of pills, b-but they were old – or something, and that did less damage–?” Ena rambled into her friend’s arms and tried to hide into Mizuki. “Mizuki, he was so weak and he was just smiling the whole time–”

Mizuki and Mafuyu’s faces were grim, but Kanade looked like she was condemning herself. Her face was downcast and tears built up in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Enanan. Akito told me– he made it so clear to me that he needed more help than I assumed–”

“K, you’ve only really known him for a day and a half. And even if you did know these things, it would’ve been incredibly difficult to help someone who was already so stuck,” Mafuyu reasoned with a guilt-ridden Kanade. “I was the reason he became so stuck,” Ena gasped pathetically in realisation. “I’m his big sister–” Ena tried to speak but sobs and gasps broke her words into nothing but tears. This is my own doing. I drove him to this. I let it happen like it was nothing.

Mizuki crouched down to Ena’s face that was currently buried in her own lap. They held Ena close to their torso, not caring about the red swarming Ena’s hands, and shook their head. “Ena, this could never be your fault. Everyone has their own breaking point. And this is…” Mizuki looked around, their face a saddened expression still attempting to lighten the mood, “This is Akito Shinonome’s supernova.” Mizuki felt silly saying it like that, but it was all they could think of. Compare her brother to stars, and maybe the universe will break through to her heart.

“ Supernova ? What do you mean? ” Ena blew a sticky and wet piece of hair from her face. Mizuki smiled into her eyes, their face kind and supportive in a way that Ena desperately needed. “I think Akito’s like a star. Not the type of star that Tsukasa wants to be, but like a real star in space. He shines bright when you come close to him, but he sees himself as just another speck– like millions of others,” Mizuki explained in a lighter tone to Ena, like they were telling a young and scared child a story.

“A supernova is the explosion of a dying star. Akito’s supernova is like a real one. It’s bright, and powerful, and it affects a lotta stuff, but the explosion doesn’t just end in destruction. The stars can turn into all-consuming black holes, but they can also become new stars. The environment is what ultimately makes them a black hole or a Neutron Star . The brightest stars burn up the fastest, but their combustion brings in a new life, a new star to the end,” Mizuki’s words were gracious and caring, but never wavering. Like they were telling a tale of a daring adventurer who travelled the skies. An adventurer who braved through the night and stars as if they were waves of the ocean.

“There’s a big distance between stars; they’re light years away from each other. It’s pretty lonely, but you can still see other stars in the distance twinkling on. It may seem like a crazy distance, but really, who’s there to stop us from trying to walk it?” Mizuki took a breath, and squeezed Ena’s hand to comfort her.

“What’s stopping us from helping Akito?”

Mizuki was able to give an idea, a concept that could bring Ena back to shore.

But Ena was a Shinonome. Faced with millions of possibilities, but their eyes were only ever clouded with the negative ones. “But Akito’s not a star in space.” Ena spoke quietly, salty tears running dry on her face and her again head facing down and away from Mizuki.

“Anything is possible if you believe in it.” I believed in you. I believed in Kanade. I believed in Mafuyu. But why can’t I believe in my brother? Why can’t I do anything about it?

“And if I don’t?”

“Would you rather believe your little brother is going to die?” What if he does? What if Nothing Works? Ena was scared. But Mizuki was right. If Ena were to give up on any shred of hope now, there would be nothing left for her. “...I’m sorry. Thank you.” Mizuki smiled at her. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Enanan.” Ena nodded. “If you want to take her to a bathroom, K and I can call everyone who should be made aware of the situation. I think we have everybody’s contacts but your father’s, Enanan,” Mafuyu offered. Mizuki helped Ena stand up and Kanade skittered over to give her a hug, not caring about the mess that would likely get on her own clothes.

“I-I’ll send it to you on Nightcord. Can you make sure to tell his friends first? And could you let Tsukasa and Rui-kun know? I think they could lighten up the mood a bit. I think Dad should know last, if that’s okay,” Ena asked her, throat still thick and nose clogged to the point her voice sounded completely different. She took a shaky breath— in and out. Her shoulders felt lighter with the presence of other people.

Ena wondered if the weight would ever be lifted off of Akito’s shoulders. Would the world ever shine around him? Would the people who walked this dirt ever show him that he meant something?

“Let’s go ask a nurse if they have something you can change into! I’m sure you’ll look cute even in hospital clothes~♡︎” Mizuki chirped in an attempt to cheer Ena up. Ena couldn’t help but feel a bit better in the presence of other people, when she was no longer alone.

Ena could understand how alone Akito felt in his solitude.

|

“I think we should call Toya Aoyagi first. He’s the closest to Akito, he should be the first to know,” Kanade suggested. In the entire day they spent together, Akito had mentioned Toya a couple of times. Toya would like this. Toya makes me let him prepare my food before I eat. Toya loves this song. That’s Toya’s favourite ride. Toya and I’s first small gig was around this corner. I first realised I loved Toya in this cafè.

Kanade wasn’t sure Akito was even aware of all of the things he let slip about himself on the day they were together. Half of his sentences seemed dazed and unaware, as if he was just letting thoughts slip from his consciousness without actually thinking of them.

Kanade knew that day wasn’t the only time he was like that; as if words and moments fell beyond his perspective and perceiving of reality. He saw and remembered and felt things differently than everyone else, but that also meant that he couldn’t live in the moment in the same way as everyone else did.

Kanade wished she had done something about it, but now, there was a chance she’d never be able to. Kanade was scared. Scared she would fail to save another person and would only doom them, just like she did her father. Kanade was scared of the chances she wasn't able to take. Kanade was scared. Kanade and Akito were so alike, and yet, she felt like there was nothing she could do. Would it always be this way? How could she do this?

No, she couldn’t think like that. Right now was about Akito, not her. It would be selfish to think of anything else. It wouldn’t be fair to push aside Akito when he’d always been swiped away by others. Akito was so kind. She needed to do her part in making sure that he would be showered in the kindness he had always shown to those around him. It just felt impossible to feel completely innocent, though. Akito was so kind. And the world had cast him aside without any remorse. And she didn’t do anything to stop it, even when it was clear that he needed someone else.

But what should she have done? She only knew how to make good music, it was hard enough to resonate with other people on a personal level. 

Kanade sighed. All she could do right now was update his loved ones on the current situation, and yet, she felt like it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, not when it comes to Akito. He deserves their apologies and the world over. That much was clear to anyone who met him.

“I can call Kohane Azusawa if you’d like to take care of An Shiraishi as well. Azusawa-chan and I are acquainted at school,” Mafuyu said with a half-mind, already looking down at her phone and ready to dial.

“Yes… I think this would be the best,” Kanade answered, searching through an old but active group chat for the contacts of Akito’s friends. They had made the method of connection on the day Akito went missing from everyone so that they could update each other if anyone saw or heard from Akito. That was a month ago, to the day. She had luckily saved everyone’s contacts for future reference and she didn’t need to scroll through the chat to understand which phone number belonged to each person.

Kanade found Aoyagi’s contact and prepared herself to dial the phone number. It was only around midnight and most teenagers would be awake around this time, so Aoyagi was likely awake at the time. She let out a small sigh. What was she supposed to say?

Akito…

She called the number and there were a few empty rings echoing in her ears before the call was picked up. She took a deep breath, and mentally prepared herself for the news she was about to bring. “Hello, Aoyagi-kun. This is Kanade Yoisaki, a friend of Ena and Akito. Are you able to speak right now? It’s about Akito.” She heard Toya let out a small gasp before he responded, “Yes, of course. Has something happened to him?” His voice was worried, like he was waiting for something he almost expected to come.

But, Kanade figured that someone as close to Akito as Toya would almost know what Akito did. A single glance and he would know all about his best friend’s current state.

“I’m sorry, but Akito’s in the Emergency Room right now.” Kanade breathed in, trying to stabilise her breath and stop shaking, “He tried to… kill himself. We don’t know his current condition but he was rushed into a few procedures,” Kanade told him. There was no way to put it gently. To tell someone that their best friend tried to commit suicide was utterly horrifying. 

“Oh.” His voice was flat. Of course it was. How else was he supposed to react?

“We thought you should know first in case you wanted to be here when we find out more about Akito. We don’t know if he’s gonna make it yet. I’m so sorry , Aoyagi-san–”

Aoyagi hung up the phone.

Kanade couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to be told about over the phone. And Kanade was the bringer of bad news, as always. She was closely related to the misfortune of others. Kanade was always the one to make others worse, so she would do as told, even if it made her heart hurt and feel heavier than ever.

She dropped her head to look at the floor. The sterile tiles had a few tiny drops of blood tracking on them. Kanade knew it wasn’t her fault. But she also knew there was so much more she could’ve done. You could’ve still done something .

Kanade felt her breaths get a little bit stuck in her throat. Her eyes became wet with tears she was too afraid to let out when she first was aware of what was happening. Regret and indescribable grief ran through her veins because

How was she supposed to move ON?

The guilt and wishing for better ran deep in her blood. Kanade wanted to drop to the floor and weep.

Kanade hadn’t seen his body, the way he desecrated his own skin, but simply imagining it shook her body and she felt shudders roll down her extruding spine. She remembered that night, the words Akito said to her then when they barely knew each other.

“As someone who reminds me a lot like myself, it hurts a bit to see someone else in more pain than they need to be. And, it’s quite human to feel empathy for another’s suffering.” 

Akito went beyond just suffering. How could she be so naive?

He snickered a little bit, air puffing out of his nose and eyes scrunching into a laugh. “A lot like yourself? In what ways? You also drink until you can’t feel your hands? Till you can’t formulate thoughts?”

Kanade looked a little sad at his words, remembering the days when she also denied support from others. The days where she was like Akito, where she thought she was alone and there was nobody. The crux of her remorse, where she was completely shattered by it. “I used to cut myself, too. I did it for about a year when my life felt like it was always ending, but I randomly stopped when things started to look better for me. I didn’t have a huge reliance on it, but it definitely didn’t help me as much as it made things worse.”

I didn’t just randomly stop. I was just too scared to keep going. I was too scared for when I would inevitably go too far. Just like you did. I was selfish. I was scared for myself.

“But, even before Ena mentioned it, I could tell that you engaged in some type of addiction– and even if it wasn’t cutting, it was definitely some sort of self-destruction and harm. I think it’d be best for everyone for you to get some sort of help.”

“Ha– help? I don’t need help,” Akito shrugged off the idea.

It was so clear then. Why couldn’t I do anything?

“You think so? …It’s… it’s not easy to recover from painful thoughts. It doesn’t have to be me, but maybe you should talk about what you feel to your friends or someone who you know cares about you.”

Kanade paused, and looked up to the stars that brought her back to the days where she would be alone in her apartment. It would be cold. The lights would be off, except for the light of her computer screen that glowed like a star, and there would be nothing but the silence that echoed off the walls. It was a stark contrast to her life now. “I think it does get better,” she whispered out, reminiscing on the things that she sometimes tried to bury deep into the ground.

“Yeah? And how did getting better turn out for you? You seem to still be stuck just as deep as I am,” he bitterly choked out.

Yes. You were right in that. How could I tell you to claw yourself out of that pit when I couldn’t even do it for myself? How could I leave you like that?

“ I’m so sorry for failing you, ” Kanade whispered as she held her hands crossed in an X across her chest; as if she was hiding yet rubbing at her heart to protect herself from the pain she felt. Ever since then, Kanade thought for hours and hours about the small things he had said that day in an attempt to understand him more. She wanted to help him, she wanted to do what she could but she just didn’t know how. Kanade understood, she knew, she knew the feelings that Akito had befriended, she knew the pain that he felt, and she knew the utter hopelessness of it all.

Yet, she still failed.

Kanade was only good for music.

She ruined everything else she touched.

Kanade understood how Akito felt about himself. More so than perhaps anyone else in the world.

|

“Hey, Enanan! I got you some clothes from the pretty nurse behind the uketsuke. There’s a bathroom down the hall we can clean you off in. She handed me some towels so we could try to use the sink to hose you off,” Mizuki chirped. They let Ena stay by herself in a hallway when she was asking the nurse for assistance. Ena was just staring at the barely flickering light on the ceilings when Mizuki came back.

Ena turned her head towards them, “Oh… Thanks, Mizuki.” She didn’t say anything else and kinda just stood there.

Mizuki looped their arm around Ena’s and pulled her gently down the hallway. They were on the bottom floor in front of the entrance, so there were a ton of low-danger ER rooms. There was a little kid sitting with his mother on one of the beds, and when Mizuki gave him a wave, his scared face lit up with a smile and he waved back.

Whenever Mizuki looked over at Ena, it was as if she was in a daze. Like she wasn’t fully there. Like she couldn’t control her body or her thoughts.

And frankly, it was pretty terrifying.

Mizuki remembered Ena talking about how Akito had an empty gaze whenever he was at his worst. Like brother, like sister, they figured. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do everything they could to help Ena process what was happening. Nobody should have to go through something like this alone. Especially not someone as vulnerable as Ena.

When they got to the bathroom, Ena pulled herself away from Mizuki to go in, and she held the door open for them. There were six stalls in total, all of which were luckily unoccupied and nobody else was in the bathroom. The sinks had faucets far away from the sink walls, but there were no showers or places for Ena to wash herself completely off. Luckily, the towel and hand soap dispensers seemed to be full.

Ena looked stuck. Like she was on auto-pilot and took extra time to think about what to do next. So Mizuki took her hand and guided her to the sinks where they could start by washing a base amount of blood off her hands. They placed the change of clothes on a dry counter but Ena didn’t seem to be phased by anything. It reminded Mizuki of Akito, in a way. Stagnant and unafflicted by the world around him. Mizuki turned on the water by waving their hand under the sensors, which luckily were automatic and didn’t turn off until the hands were taken away from it. It would be easier to wash the gore off of Ena.

They started by getting soap to wash the major blood stains off her skin, but the sticky sections in-between Ena’s fingers and bends in her hand were more stubborn. Mizuki continued to wash, like they were a patient teacher taking care of a fragile child.

Scrub the skin. Lather some soap. Rip off pieces of paper towels and scrub. Rinse. Cleanse. Remove. Eradicate. Forget the memory. Wash it like there was nothing ever even there in the first place. Like it was just a stain that could be removed and forgotten.

But Mizuki knew that no amount of water could ever make Ena forget the feeling of having her little brother’s blood caked into her hands.

Mizuki didn’t know Akito well. They had talked and teased many times before, but Akito always had a different stance in front of people he wasn’t close to. Like there was film; a filter blocking his heart from everyone else. Mizuki wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t completely genuine even with those he was closest to.

The heart was a weird thing. The brain, too, but the heart– the lifeline, always kept some people from living their lives to the fullest.

Mizuki was scared for a very long time of being themselves. But everything became a lot easier when they let themself start to feel. Start to live as who they were.

It didn’t take a genius or a psychology degree to tell that Akito has never lived like that.

“Mizuki?” Ena asked after many silent minutes.

“What’s up, Enanan?” Mizuki tried to keep their voice cheery and distracted. 

“How do you… stop someone’s heart from hurting?” Ena’s voice was wavering, like she didn’t know how to ask the question. Ena looked up at MIzuki, her eyes watering and sparkling with fresh tears.

Oh, Ena… Mizuki turned off the faucet, making sure their hands weren’t layered in blood, and wrapped their arms around Ena’s shorter shoulders.

Ena tightened her arms around them, clinging to them like they were the only thing keeping her from being blown away. Ena cried softly into their right shoulder, hiding in the crook of Mizuki’s neck to hide from the world and everything it threw at her.

“ I knew it all. I knew it would happen. He didn’t have to tell me himself, but I knew it was coming. Yet I still did nothing about it– How can I even call myself his sister? I know why Akito’s like this, but I don’t know what to do about it– I’ve done so much to hurt him. ” Ena’s face was impossibly sad and Mizuki did nothing but bring her closer. Mizuki saw the guilt biting at her body and she held her near to keep her upright.

It’s neither Akito’s fault nor yours. The world hates people who want to make a ripple in it, and sometimes we just need to do our best to adjust.

“ Ena… Listen, Akito needs a lot more help than what you can give him by yourself. It doesn’t make you a bad person for not being able to help him by yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you guys, but there’s always gonna be stuff that keeps us from feeling normal,” Mizuki tried to comfort Ena. It was difficult to think of words to say, but every word Mizuki said was a genuine one. Only a monster could lie to someone so vulnerable in such a horrible and tiring time.

“I just want Akito to be okay, but the idea seems so far from me.” Ena’s words were dripping with hurt. I’m sorry this is happening. I don’t know what I’d do if someone important to me like you, or Rui, or Tsukasa, or An tried to hurt themselves, let alone this.

But.

Mizuki pulled away from Ena, and stared her directly in the eyes. “It might take a while, but we will do everything we can to be there for him and help him, yeah? Akito means a lot to us, and now that we have the ability to help, how could we ever stop now?” Mizuki gave her a small smile.

I hope that you, my closest friend, can feel a bit more at ease.

Ena let out a shaky laugh and wiped her tears from her face, leaving only a look of determination and smile imprinted on the hospital bathroom’s walls. She gave Mizuki a quick hug and grabbed the clothes from the counter and locked herself in a bathroom stall to change out of her still-bloody clothes.

I don’t know you, Akito Shinonome. But I’d really like to change that.

Mizuki could understand how Akito felt about sharing his heart with an audience watching in suit, ready to criticise every beat of it.

|

When Toya hung up the phone, he did nothing but stare at the darkness of his bedroom. 

Akito.

Toya remembered when they first met. Akito called to him on the streets and they started talking about singing. Akito wore his heart on his sleeve, sharing his dreams with anybody who wanted to hear. He was bright. He was vivid. He was motivated.

Toya remembered how Akito was just a few hours ago. Akito was none of those things.

“We don’t know if he’s gonna make it.” When Yoisaki said those words, his heart stopped beating. Nothing but fear radiated in his body.

Toya knew. Toya knew full-well the extent of Akito’s instability. His illnesses. Everything hurting him.

Toya knew. He knew for years. And yet he left him that night.

Was it his fault? It was his fault. It had to be.

Akito is his partner, and Toya did nothing.

Toya loves Akito. Toya is in love with Akito. Toya wants to hold him and hear his thoughts and know him better than anyone else in the world. Toya wants to tell him about the things he loves about him, and he wants to whisper in Akito’s ear about everything his mind could ever muster up. Toya wants to kiss the breath out of his lips and Toya wants to be next to him every second of his life. Akito was everything.

Toya loves him. But he did nothing but make it worse.

He returned to Akito, only to leave as soon as he came. Akito was alone for a month.

Akito said he loved Toya too. He begged him to stay. He didn’t want Toya to leave.

Toya was so naive.

Akito said he wanted to die, but Toya didn’t think he was going to die. Toya was stupid. Toya is an idiot. He left him, when he clearly needed him the most, and the stupid words he said to him when he left.

Akito was hurting, but Toya dismissed it and said he’d help him get better later. Later, not now, because Akito wasn’t his number one priority. Akito wasn’t important to him. Or, Akito saw it that way.

Akito might not make it. Akito might die. 

And Toya was just as deadly to Akito as a loaded gun.

Toya climbed down the stairs, taking two steps a minute. He needed to think. He needed it to stop. He needed Akito by his side. He walked in the darkness of the halls, the colour of the wallpaper leaving a warm taste in his mouth.

“Dad.” Toya stared at his father with a vacant look in his eyes. His father was sitting on the living room couch with his two older brothers, Ichiro and Haruto.

“What’s wrong, son? Ichiro was just telling me about his latest business endeavours.”

“We need to go to the Emergency Room.” Am I even brave enough to see him?

“What? What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night–”

“My best friend tried to kill himself.” I need to see him. Toya’s eyes were glinting with unshed tears that he was too terrified to let go of.

“ Oh my …” Haruto whispered under his breath. Ichiro choked on his cup of hot tea. His older brothers stared, bewildered, at the youngest of their family. Toya was gripping onto the back corner of the white couch like it was his life line blowing away from him.

His father looked at him for a few silent moments before standing up from the elegant couch. “Akito?” he asked with a gentle and understanding voice.

Toya couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response, so he just nodded rapidly. Like he was a little kid being asked about his feelings by his dad.

“...Haruto, Ichiro, when she wakes up in the morning, would you let your mother know where we are? She likes her coffee black with two cubes of sugar, and she prefers a simple Japanese breakfast an hour after she wakes. Please settle in for your stay, but I ask that you do not make any loud noises that would disturb her sleep.”

“Wait, let me drive you there. Plus, Haruto’s always been the best at handling Mom when she’s ill-tempered in the mornings,” Ichiro suggested. Haruto nodded, “Yeah. Don’t worry about me and Mom. It might be less scary with more people there, so all of you go ahead.”

Toya’s father nodded and looked back at Toya. “Toya, do you know how long he’s been there for? If he’ll wake up soon?”

If he’ll wake up soon?

“He… he might not m-make it–” Toya’s voice cracked into a whimper on his last words. Coming to terms with the fact that he might have to live in a world without Akito was terrifying. Akito changed his life. Akito was his everything.

Toya held a hand to his mouth to cover the sobs leaking from it, but he couldn’t stop the tears from rippling down. His oldest tallest brother, Ichiro, walked over to embrace him, even if he hadn’t in years.

“Shh… it’s okay… ” He rubbed circles on Toya’s back. “Come on, Toya. Let’s go see your friend–” I have no right to call him my friend after I let him down. I could’ve been there for him but I decided to leave.

“It’s my fault–”

“For someone to come to the decision to end their life, many things have happened to them. Please believe me when I say that it’s not your fault.”

“Do you think it’d feel nice to be dead?”

They were almost fourteen. Akito had been acting weird at the time, and he said even weirder things. Toya just resigned it to childhood curiosity. Toya just acted like it was nothing. He was sure he made Akito Feel like Nothing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it. I’m just living through whatever happens, I guess. There’s no reason to think about the future stuff when I’m already like this.” 

Toya stared into his best friend’s eyes.

He didn’t miss how low Akito’s face fell before he answered.

But Toya missed how the thought of a future was one unimaginable for Akito.

Toya always wanted to pursue a career in music and the arts, even if he wasn’t sure of the direct path he wanted to take. It was normal for children to not have a set plan for their lives, but Toya had never once heard of a single thing Akito wanted to do when he became an adult. Even when asked, Akito never seemed like he wanted to Live in the future. Toya didn’t even ask further when it was so obvious.

“I can’t, Toya. I can’t tell you. I really want to but I just can’t. Everything will be fine with me, so just go on like always. You know how I am.”

It was so recent. Not even a month ago– the last time he saw Akito face-to-face before last night. Things weren’t fine with Akito.

If Akito were to die, Toya thinks he would die with him.

Toya needed Akito to breathe, because every thought was consumed by Akito’s being. Everything Toya enjoyed reminded him of the gentle laughter and passionate smile Akito emanated, and Toya could not fathom the idea of happiness without thinking of Akito. Because Akito was Akito, but when he told him to ignore everything that was happening to him, Toya just sputtered like an idiot. Akito must have taken it the wrong way. Akito didn’t know Toya loved him at the time.

“I wish I were dead. Everything would be better that way.”

A few hours ago, Akito told him that he wished he was dead. That he didn’t want to continue living, and that he thought it was better for everyone else. Akito was brave and bared his heart to Toya, told him something that had been weighing him down for years, but all Toya could think about was holding him closer to his body. All Toya did was wrap his arms around Akito forever and ever without letting him go, so that Akito knew that he couldn’t die. Toya didn’t say anything, and in the current state of Akito’s mind, he must have been devastated at the lack of response.

Toya sat for minutes, doing nothing but holding Akito and staring at the ceiling with him– at the dumb glow-in-the-dark stars that he helped plaster back on whenever they fell from their age. Toya remembered putting some on Akito’s face with the loose and old adhesive, taking photos with Akito’s phone to post on social media, getting thousands of likes from their new fans who thought Akito was beautiful, just like how Toya saw him. Toya talked about the stars and constellations, using knowledge that Akito had told him in the past when they were messing around in the sekai. Akito must have felt so lonely in that moment, like all of his feelings did not matter to even his best friend. To his partner.

…You’re wrong. There’s everything I could’ve done. The signs were all there for years, and yet, Toya didn’t do a single thing but provide meaningless comfort when he noticed it got really bad. It wasn’t enough.

“I love him and I left him,” Toya pathetically let out into his shoulder. All of their eyes widened slightly, but they let his pained words slip from his mouth without any judgement. “We’ve all made mistakes that we regret, but there’s nothing we can do but move on from them. And I believe you to be the type of person who doesn’t befriend impulsive people. This was a thing years in the making,” Ichiro pulled away from Toya and ruffled his hair.

Years in the making, and yet, I was there for all those years.

“If we all get there now, you’ll be the first to know as soon as he’s okay. I trust that any person you love is a fighter. Your friend won’t give up that easily,” Ichiro said to him, but his words felt awkward. Like he didn’t know how to comfort his little brother in something like this.  How do you console someone after something like this?

Ichiro grabbed his car keys to the fancy car he drove here to visit. Harumichi just looked at Toya with guilt. Like he knew Toya was stripped from Akito’s side because of his own wishes. Ichiro went outside the house to get the car ready and Harumichi followed him when he snapped out of it. Haruto lightly guided Toya to the car so he could get into the backseat.

It was past midnight so the only cars out were on the highways, but even then they were scarce. The brightest lights came from the cars around him, but looking out the window Toya could still see the view of the city. Shibuya was quiet at night, but the city made getting to the hospital’s location difficult.

The drive was silent with the exception of a few sniffles from Toya. Ichiro was driving alone in the front seat; Harumichi was seated in the back to Toya’s instead of sitting in the front passenger seat. Nobody said anything in the weight of the lengthened silence.

The drive was silent with Toya’s millions of thoughts, until it wasn’t.

“Toya… has anybody updated you on Akito’s current condition? It’s been over thirty minutes since you were called, and I assume even longer since he's been in the hospital,” his father asked him, not yet turning his head away from outside the window.

“N-Nobody’s said anything,” Toya’s voice cracked as a mix of his crying and dryness of his throat. His phone was technically on vibrate, but he was still too scared to check it. And his father knew he hadn’t looked at it either. Toya had texted Tsukasa about what happened to Akito when they first entered the car, but he hadn’t touched his phone since then.

“Are you sure? Maybe you didn’t notice that somebody messaged you. You should check your phone.”

I’m too scared to.

“I want to wait to hear about him until we get there. The other’s probably know the same and won’t tell me anything.” I’d rather be told to my face what might happen to him. I couldn’t bear to be told that now. 

“We’re driving all this way, and I think we should be at least aware of what we’re walking into because he might not even be able to talk to you –” Harumichi’s voice increased slightly in volume. It was clear he was unsettled.

“Hey, Dad, let’s leave it for now. If you think this is hard for you, imagine how hard it is for Toya? It’s unfortunate timing, sure, but there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Ichiro interrupted him to diffuse the tension.

His father took a deep sigh and looked up to the car roof. “Yes, you’re right. I apologise for losing myself. I… I’m sorry this is happening Toya. It’s our job as family to assist you in times like these.”

“I’m sorry,” Toya whispered, but in the silence, his whisper was like a guttural scream.

“Sorry? Why would you be sorry? You weren’t the one who made that boy do what he did,” Harumichi defensively grumbled.

I was. He begged me to stay, but I still left. What type of person could do that? I’ve known deep down for years that this would happen. I saw all of the most glaring signs.

What if I’m Akito’s killer?

“It’s nothing.” It’s everything.

“If you say so.”

They continued to drive in the night, less than a few feet between them in the seats but feeling like an entire galaxy was between them.

The silence hurt Toya’s ears. He wished Akito was there to fill it with his presence.

Toya could understand how the silence Akito’s life was filled with left him utterly defenceless against the hammering thoughts in his head.

|

It took them about forty minutes going on-and-off between changing clothes, scraping blood, talking, and crying, for Ena to be completely clean. No blood under her fingernails or stuck in-between the creases of her skin, no blood stuck to her brown hair, no more sweat and dirty clothes clinging to her. Ena was wiped clean of the pain Akito bled out onto her.

They walked back to the waiting room, where Kanade and Mafuyu were sitting, Ena grasping Mizuki’s arm for comfort, but there were three new people sitting there with them.

Kohane Azusawa and An Shiraishi were sitting together and holding each other tight, while An’s father stood solemnly by their side. An looked up from Kohane’s shoulders with a face completely wet with tears, and Kohane stared at them with red, puffy eyes that seemed to have just stopped crying. An pulled herself out of their pile and scampered over to Mizuki and Ena.

“Mizuki! Ena! Is Akito going to be okay?” An took a deep breath and looked around her with frightened tears in her eyes, putting her hand to her forehead to smooth her hair back in an attempt to calm down. “Asahina-chan called Kohane and we were together at my house and she said Akito tried to kill himself and he was in the hospital and you were all waiting for him–” An was practically blubbering now, but Mizuki just wrapped their warm arms around An to console her while she cried and was shaking. “We haven’t seen him in weeks and Kohane and I were gonna go see him tomorrow because Toya said Akito needed his friends back– and now he–”

An choked on her words. Mizuki just wanted to cry.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry Akito–” The waiting room was half filled with other people crying for their own loved ones, but An’s wails were the loudest. Kohane was just curled up underneath a blanket she previously shared with An. Kanade sat on her right and her hand was under the blanket, seemingly holding Kohane’s, but it was hard because of the arm supports blocking the two of them from being fully next to each other. But An couldn’t do anything but cry.

Mizuki noticed Mafuyu slip out of the room while they held An. An’s dad was holding a hand to his eyes to block out the bright hospital lights, and he leaned against the wall and looked at nothing but the boring floor. Ena walked over to Kohane and Kanade to talk to Kohane whose face looked unresponsive. Mizuki just rubbed circles on An’s back and whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

“I’m scared, Mizuki. What if– What if he isn’t okay?” An whispered out into the world.

“We don’t know anything yet, An. And do you really think Akito would be so prone to giving up?” Mizuki tried to encourage her, even if they just wanted to cry like everyone else. An shook her head silently and Mizuki used their sleeve to softly wipe the tears from An’s face. “Even if we don’t know how he’s doing right now, we know that the doctors are doing all they can to help him. The only thing we can do is wait and see.”

But the crying and emotional exhaustion made it difficult for them to believe even their own words.

Akito hadn’t lived like a fire was burning beneath him for weeks.

And maybe it wouldn’t change now.

Mizuki knew how their misguided cheeriness and optimism never had any effect on the real world.

Mizuki almost felt stupid at how they were just hiding in their emotions and fear instead of confronting them in reality.

Mizuki sat An back down in her seat next to Kohane. Mizuki sat down to her left with a sigh.

They were all tired. Everyone was tired.

And yet, there was nothing that they could do.

All they could do was wait. Wait for any sliver of information. But, throughout their entire life, Mizuki had always been waiting for better. Waiting was something Mizuki could do. Waiting was all Mizuki could do.

“Do you trust Akito?” Ken, An’s dad, asked Mizuki as he stood to their left. Everything had been silent for a while as they waited for more people to come.

Mizuki looked at the sleeping girls to their right, and thought about Akito laying somewhere in the hospital. Mizuki thought about the few moments they shared with Akito, how his optimism made an impact on others, and how he was the most passionate person they’d ever seen. How Akito was never afraid to share his heart, even if others didn’t agree. How Akito looked at them with a dumb expression because of the silly antics they were always up to.

How Akito was, if anything, the most human being Mizuki will ever meet.

Mizuki looked up at Ken. “I do.”

“Then you have no need to worry about if he’ll get better,” Ken said, with determination on his worn face. Like he believed those words to be the truest things that the entire universe could possibly hold at the moment.

Mizuki smiled back, wringing their hands and turning back to their friends who were sleeping on the chairs lined up against the wall. They took a seat next to Ena and observed the room, because the world was not over. Because the Earth kept on spinning, and there were too many truths that could exist at the moment.

Mizuki laughed a little to themselves. Akito was kinda like Schrödinger's cat.

Mizuki could understand how Akito had spent his whole life waiting for something worth more.

|

Mafuyu walked up and down the hallways. She told Kanade she had to use the restroom, but really, there was no reason she had to leave other than what she was feeling.

Mafuyu felt suffocated in that room.

It was a typical hospital, but she’d been there many times. Anytime her parents got sick, which was rare, it was usually serious enough to the point where they needed to be hospitalised. Mafuyu remembered how when she was young and visited her mother in the hospital, her mother would tell her from her hospital bed that it was up to Mafuyu to continue studying and engaging in school. That everything Mafuyu did was for her mother.

Mafuyu walked down the halls, taking long breaths and gaps of time to stare at the artworks on the walls. They were mainly modern art, a few contemporary here and there, and some clearly imitating the styles of famous artists. Many were like Monet, with an even messier attempt at Impressionism, but Mafuyu didn’t like any of those works. They were beautiful from afar but scattered and ugly up-close.

They say art imitates life, but maybe the reason Mafuyu didn’t like those works was because she was just a doll imitating the art people spent years perfecting their craft at. Beautiful from afar but scattered and ugly up-close.

Mafuyu moved on to the next painting on the wall, some galleries being empty due to them being moved to the new hospital this older one was relocating to, but she felt the breath leave her lungs when she did.

It was a blue painting with two halves. The top half was slightly thinner than the bottom, but it was a light blue-ish or purple tone. The bottom half was a cosmic version of the colour used on top. Like a gentle periwinkle dashed with other blues, in contrast to the ginormous expanse of intensity.

In the centre of the edges of each colour, which were uneven, crooked, hand-drawn, telling, full of thought and presence and purpose and passion, was a small black dot.

But the dot stood out more than all of the beautifully complex blends of paint telling of the trivial romances and profound stories of the heart. Because the dot had no other colour.

The dot made a statement. A tiny, single dark point that didn’t even require the energy used in a stroke. It was so passive. It was so… basic. But after the paints and vivid mixtures on both halves of the painting drew your attention, the black dot consumed your perspective and It Was

Loud.

Mafuyu didn’t understand art. She knew it closely, her parents always teaching her about the techniques and the styles. She knew the methods, what tools to use to create what painting. How to set up a canvas, how to use the brush to its maximum potential, how to create an image on something that began as blank.

But Mafuyu didn’t know art and how someone’s fragile emotions could be translated so directly onto a canvas.

Except, she understood art after looking at this painting.

And she looked below the giant canvas size to where the name and artist of the painting stood on a glass plaque on the wall.

“Love”

Donated by Artist Shinei Shinonome

The Shinonomes were all prestigious artists. They weren’t famous because they existed, but they were famous for the talent that ran through their veins like the oxygen and cells that they were born with. The talent that made them live.

Mafuyu understood now.

The things that art can bring and show. The pain, the love, the worthiness of it.

Because of Akito’s father.

And if Akito was anything like Mafuyu, he was expected to hold the same talents as his father. Akito was expected to breathe out creations like it was nothing, as if his heart and soul wasn’t being pulled and warped to churn the paint around with a brush. As if the pain he was weighed down by was not existent, and that he was the utter master of his own heart and thoughts.

Mafuyu could understand how the weight of the world was on Akito’s shoulders, and it was poured by his very own parents.

|

Toya didn’t mean to, but the second they arrived, he ran out of the car and left his brother and dad in the car. He stumbled into the entrance and ran through the halls to find anybody he recognised. The halls felt longer and thinner like they were trying to squeeze him until he couldn’t move or think. They winded down like a tumultuous crossroad in a fantasy storybook.

He took a left, and he pushed open a double-hinged door, ignoring the calls from his dad and brother behind him.

“Toya! You’re finally here,” he heard An call out to him from her seat in a chair and under a blanket. She stood up abruptly to meet him.

“Where’s Akito? Is he okay? Where is he? Is he alive?” Toya responded, frantic. When he ran up to An, he placed his hands on her shoulders and sweat was dripping down his face.

“W-We don’t know his status yet. Ena-chan and Mizuki just left to go find him and their mom,” her voice was strained and stuck, like she had been crying a lot prior. An’s face was downcast and her eyes were red. They don’t know if my partner is alive.

“Akiyama-san? They’re here? Who… Who else is here right now?” Toya asked.

Toya had told Tsukasa about what was happening, but he hadn’t checked to see if he responded yet. Toya was completely in the dark right now as he was the last to arrive.

“Um… Kohane and Dad are here right now, and Mizuki is with Ena and her mom. Kanade-chan and Asahina-chan are off with Kohane, and Rui and Tsukasa are somewhere else–”

“Tsukasa is here? How long has he been here?” Toya wanted to talk to him. Toya’s brothers were never too involved with his life growing up, but Tsukasa always made him feel safe. Like a real older brother. Toya needed that comfort right now.

An giggled a bit, her face looking less and less upset as they talked. “He came with Rui about ten minutes ago. Said they nabbed Rui’s dad’s car since their parents are asleep right now…” 

“They…broke the law to get here? Well, when did you and Kohane get here?” Toya smiled a bit at the hilarity of the situation. The second-years were only a year away from being able to legally drive, and they were already taught by their parents, but even in the middle of the night, they wanted to be here to support the rest of them and put a smile on their faces.

“Kohane and I were sleeping over together at my place when Asahina-chan called Kohane. Dad drove us over as fast as possible, but we still haven’t heard anything since then.”

I don’t know what I’d do without him.

An awkward silence radiated the air like it was going to burn their skin if they let it last for any longer. “Have you eaten anything recently? My dad told me they have pretty good cafeteria food…” An tried to break the silence.

“I… I haven’t really thought about eating, but now that you mention it, I barely ate any dinner earlier. I’m quite hungry now,” Toya responded. “You know what? How about I call everyone back here so that we can get a meal from the cafeteria? I think it might make things a bit less tense…” An rubbed at his shoulder as a reminder that they were both in this together. Through thick and thin, their group would never give up on Akito or each other. “Yeah, I think that would sound good–” They were interrupted by the loud yelling of someone from afar. “ Toya! God, please don’t run off like that again. Dad’s parking the car, but we don’t know where your friend is and it would’ve been annoying to come find you through this maze,” Ichiro yelled to him, panting from his lack of breath. Toya tilted his head a bit to apologise.

“O-Oh! Are you Toya’s older brother?” An asked in slight confusion, but her face was lit up. “Hello, yeah, that’s me. I’m Ichiro, the oldest Aoyagi kid. I work in the music industry in America,” he bragged. He threw his hair back so he looked as though he wasn’t completely out of breath. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m An Shiraishi, Toya’s band mate.” Ichiro nodded his head, and they all stood there awkwardly before An cleared his throat and sniffled some of the drooping wetness from her nose. “Toya, I’m gonna go find the rest of us so we can get a table somewhere. That sound good?”

“Oh, alright An. We’ll be over there in a second,” Toya thanked her. He gave a small wave as she walked away. Ichiro looked at Toya with a proud look in his eyes. “I used to worry when you were younger since it was hard for you to find kids your age that you actually liked. Now I can see that there wasn’t any need to fret. I’m glad you have friends like her to surround yourself with. She seems like a sweet person. Akito too, from what you’ve said about him.”

Toya thought. Thought about Akito. Thought about everything. All that they’ve done together, all that they’ve been through together. He thought about every glance he gave to Akito and every breath Akito gave to him. The words they spoke together. The dreams they shared. The jokes they made that only they would understand. The times they looked at each other with pure admiration in their eyes with no need for anything else. The moments they’ve shared where they held each other in their arms and laid in blissful silence. The meals they cooked together, the movies and shows they watched together, the secrets they whispered in the other’s ear. The places they’ve gone to, just the two of them, because they didn’t need anything but the other’s company.

Everything about each other. Toya thought about them. The two of them. What they were to each other. (They were the air the other breathed. They were everything the other needed to survive. Toya still wasn’t enough. Soulmates was far too contrived and common a word to use to describe them. They existed for each other. Toya still wasn’t enough. )

Toya thought it was unfair that he had to leave those instances and the chance of his everything living or dying to some random doctors he never spoke to.

“We don’t know if he’s alive,” Toya whispered, far too scared to speak it out into the world with certainty. Far too scared to be bold and loud like Akito was. Ichiro looked at Toya with an unfortunate face. “I’m sorry, Toya. But at least we’re here now for him.” At least we’re here for him. “Yeah. At least we’re here.”

They were both silent for a little bit, just staring at the other people in the waiting room. Ichiro cleared his throat and Toya looked at him. “So… how long have you been in love with him?” Ichiro asked him, slightly awkward, but not too pushy. Red blossomed on Toya’s face and Ichiro laughed as a result. Better not to lie. “I– I think I’ve always loved him. He’s a great person, and he’s always been there for me. It’d be impossible not to love him– not when he’s done so much for me.” Ichiro ruffled Toya’s hair, “Well, I’m just glad you’re happy. You’ll have to introduce me when he wakes up.”

Toya’s smile faltered. He felt his eyes glaze over with tears he did everything to keep in. “But what if he doesn’t wake up?” What if all of these memories were for nothing? What if he’s gone and it’s my fault? “You need to have faith. If you’re forever stuck thinking he won’t pull through, you won’t be ready for when he actually does. Have faith, little brother.”

They stood in silence for another moment before An burst back into the waiting room with Kohane by her side, the rest of the group behind her. Kohane had eyes as red as An, but she seemed infinitely more tired. Mizuki and Ena walked arm in arm next to each other, and he tried to avoid Ena’s sullen view. He saw Rui poking at Tsukasa as they walked closer, Rui trying to make light of the mood and Tsukasa trying to swat at him like a fly. Yoisaki and Asahina were all the way in the back of the group, as if they were trying to hide from it all. Toya didn’t miss how Yoisaki was wiping tears from her eyes and looked like she could start sobbing at any moment. “Hey, Toya! Everyone’s here!” An waved over to him, forcing a smile onto her face to get everyone to engage.

Toya was about to wave back, but Tsukasa unexpectedly sped-walked up to him to pull him into a tight hug before he could. Toya held onto the person who acted like his brother through all these years as if he was his lifeline. Tsukasa pulled away from Toya when Rui began to giggle quietly because everyone was staring quietly at them. Tsukasa shot Rui a tiny glare, “Ah, Toya… I’m sorry about Akito, Rui and I came as soon as we heard.”

Toya just smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate you being here. I’m sorry you came so late to support me…” Rui popped up next to the two of them, and Toya saw Ichiro back away into another hallway to leave the group in peace. “Eh, don’t worry about it,” Rui turned to face everyone else now. “Plus, we all came since we care about Shinonome-kun, no? Why don’t we all get some food and have a chat about him.”

“Some food would be nice~!” Mizuki chirped, pulling Ena and the rest of the group along with them. “Y-Yeah, there are some surprisingly good food places here…” Kohane agreed, and An linked their hands together. Yoisaki peeked out from behind Ena, “Hi, Aoyagi-kun,” and Toya had to ignore her red-ringed eyes to act like everything was okay.

“Hi, Yoisaki-san. It’s nice to see you,” Toya courteously replied. When Yoisaki had called him to tell him about Akito, his first instinct was to hold anger in his heart for her, not himself, and it was disgusting. Especially when it could have easily been prevented by him.

The only one at fault was Toya Aoyagi.

The group began to walk to the cafeteria, but Toya couldn’t help but notice Ena’s eyes lingering on him from afar.

Toya could understand how Akito feared the thought of pondering; asking; questioning this world that they walked– when would it all come together?

|

Ena didn’t know how to act around the mess of people that came to comfort her and to see Akito. There were, what, eleven other people there? Not even counting her, Akito, and their mom. Toya’s brother and dad were there because they drove Toya there to make it in time. There was Ken, who brought a violently sobbing An and a sniffling and dazed Kohane. There was Tsukasa and Rui, who came to support Toya because they knew how close he was to Akito. There was Mafuyu and Mizuki, who came because they knew Ena needed the support after hearing her sob into her limp little brother on a call.

There was Kanade, who after only spending a few days with Akito, told Ena about things she hadn’t noticed about her brother even after 15 years of knowing him. Kanade, who told Ena that she wanted to help Akito, because after meeting him it would feel like a crime to let him keep falling.

There was Kohane and An, who were some of the closest friends Akito has had in his life. Kohane and An, who shared the same dreams as Akito and worked intimately together to change each other’s lives. To become something. They weren’t just friends; Akito’s group roped together people who weren’t afraid to share their passions and heart out to the world, and they couldn’t just separate without feeling something intense. Ena hoped that Akito could learn to feel the same way again, now that she knew his rope was fraying.

And there obviously was Toya, Akito’s partner who Ena was sure Akito was enamoured with and vice versa. Toya, who knew Akito the best, but even that didn’t feel like enough. Toya, who, throughout the entire month he spent without Akito, made it the clearest to Ena that he had to see Akito again, or he couldn’t live.

Ena wished she never made Akito wait for so long to the point he tried to die to escape the solitude.

But in that month, she did everything she could to change the whole world so that it was ready to welcome Akito back into it.

She told her parents first. Despite how little she wanted to interact and care for them, she had long phone calls with her mom and dad to tell them that their son was dying. She told them, she screamed it into their ears like a tantruming and crying child that they would be his killer if they didn’t change. She didn’t know his plans, but she knew his body would begin to rot if he didn’t have someone clean him off. She didn’t know. It was her biggest regret.

Ena told them everything about Akito’s fears. The things he said to her about being alive. The horrifying and gruesome scars on his arms that were so thick and so scabbed that they healed in giant bumps that made his skin uneven. All the times in the last month where she had to wrap them up to hide them away from bacteria that would rot him from the inside. The memories she had where Akito just seemed like he stopped thinking, where he accepted it all without caring what would happen to him.

She hoped that he’d be okay in the quiet dark of his room, but she was a fool for believing that he wouldn’t do anything to escape the thoughts that drowned him.

Now she was scared that he would never wake up to be greeted by the people who loved him the most. And it would all be her fault.

“Shinonome-san? Are you… alright?” Kohane called out to Ena as the group was walking to the cafeteria. 

“Ena Shinonome. I don’t know how you ended up this way, but you’ll end up as nothing if you keep acting like this. Not even your brother behaves this poorly. Control yourself , others are watching,” Shinei Shinonome whisper-yelled in an 8 year old Ena’s face.

“Call me Ena. I don’t deserve to share the same name as Akito right now.” Ena’s voice was shaky, almost burning with emotion that was far too scalding to handle. Ena’s voice was full of regret. Kohane looked taken aback, and her brown doe eyes widened the slightest bit as she held her hands in the air. “What is it?” Ena didn’t mean to, but there was a bite in her voice that seemed to have startled Kohane.

Kohane gave her a rueful smile, “Well… it’s just that, Akito had said the same thing before. I-I’m used to calling even my close friends by their family names, so I kept on calling Akito by his last name. I remember– he’d always get defensive about it, even if it’s been a while since I’ve spoken to him. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Ena shook her head, “No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just… it’s hard, you know? Akito’s… I feel so guilty for not helping him sooner.” Kohane looked at her with such genuine understanding that it hurt. Ena couldn’t help but be reminded of all the times Akito was there for her, but she was never there for him. Kohane patted her shoulder lightly and Ena held her breath.

“Say, Ena and Mizuki, were you guys able to find where they were treating Shinonome-kun?” Rui said when the group of teenagers all ended up in the cafeteria. “It’d be nice to know how he’s doing,” he continued. The group shuffled into a lunch table and Mafuyu and Tsukasa left to order everyone’s food.

It would’ve been wonderfully relieving to know how Akito was, but nothing ever goes according to plan. Mizuki opened their mouth to answer, but Ena cut them off. “We found the room he’s in, but they didn’t let us go in. Nobody would tell us anything and Mom didn’t even come out to say something to me, but I saw her face through the window. She didn’t look relieved, so really, we have no fucking clue.” We don’t know if it was all for nothing. We don’t know if I’m losing my little brother.

“I’m sorry it’s not working out–” Rui tried to respond, but Ena continued rambling. “God, it’s all so shitty. I wish none of this ever happened. I wish our parents could be normal, and I wish he could just live.” Ena ran her hand through her messy and wet hair and looked around at everyone else. Some didn’t look her in the eyes out of guilt for her situation.

Ena felt pathetic. 

“I saw it all for so long. Akito would sometimes look so unbearably sad and I just lied to myself that he was okay and it was me who saw him differently. I didn’t do anything at all– god, I was so stupid,” Ena cried out. “You couldn’t have known that Akito wanted to die, Ena. It’s not something that you alone should feel bad for,” Mizuki said.

“It’s not that I couldn’t have known, it’s that I should’ve known. Akito… He’s always been obsessed with shit related to death. He always did vague things that made it seem like he was ready to die. I was just blind to it all because of my own cowardice. For so long, I was angry at him and seeing him destruct was almost gratifying. I’m nothing but evil.” Ena rambled about how she betrayed Akito, because there wasn’t another word that existed that fit her abandonment more. Because Akito had been there for Ena in every second of his life, but Ena hadn’t even helped him through the years after he was born. It was a basic responsibility, to protect and care for her hurting younger brother, but it was not something that Ena knew how to do.

How could she, when she was nothing but a self-righteous monster living in the skin of Akito’s sister? She was never meant to be his protector, she was the one who ripped him down from the comfort and safety of a carefree home life.

She was the selfish one. She was the harmful one. She was the one who deserved to bear the burdens that weighed on Akito’s existence.

Ena choked on her words. “ It was never him. I was always the one who pushed him away and blamed him for things he couldn’t even understand, and now look at what's happened. I’m like a killer, whether he makes it through or not.” Ena sighed out.

“ You’re just a kid, Ena. You and Akito. You’re just children. How could it ever truly be your fault?” Mizuki held her hand tight and leaned against Ena’s shoulders, not looking at anything in particular.

Akito was always there for her when she needed someone to hurt, someone to vent her frustration with the world to. Akito was brilliant, and kind, and passionate, and Ena squashed it all like a giant stepping on an ant.

Akito was her little brother.

I’m so sorry, Akito. I wish it could be easier.

How could it not be her fault?

Tsukasa and Mafuyu came back with food for the table of distraught teenagers, leaving an egg and katsu sando for Ena. Mizuki and Rui left to get drinks while they all ate in silence. Some of them were able to eat, while the rest ate tiny portions of food since it was the most they could stomach.

Rui and Tsukasa sat next to each other and whispered things in their ears that were later conveyed to Toya, who just looked like he wanted to cry. His eyes were redder than Ena’s and he would sniffle every dozen seconds to keep snot from running down his chin.

Kanade was trying to get Mafuyu to eat something, but when Mafuyu pointed out that Kanade wasn’t eating either, Kanade stayed silent. It reminded Ena of how Akito would care for their mom when she was drunk, but he would fall asleep drunk on the couch without caring for himself.

An texted her dad who was sitting at another table, and Kohane laid with her arms on her head like they were pillows. If she wasn’t talking to Toya or An, Kohane would just look off to the side and watch other people like Ena was doing.

Mizuki was right by Ena’s side and talked to her about minute details of an outfit they were designing for Nightcord’s next music video, as if it would be coming out any time soon after all that had happened. Ena chewed the warm sandwich in her mouth. The others were right, the hospital food really wasn’t half bad, but it was nothing compared to the home cooked meals Akito would make her. The meals she would take one bite out of and leave cold for the rest of the night.

Ena really wasn’t a good sister.

Kohane spoke up after almost half an hour of sitting in silence, “I remember when my Mom was in the hospital a while ago, Akito was the first to come to the ER to comfort me. I wasn’t allowed in the room with my Mom and Dad, so he held me while I was crying. He did everything he could to make me feel better, even if we knew my Mom would survive. And there was this other time when An and I had our first fight, he was immediately by my side to help make it easier for us and made sure we could all still be happy .”

An smiled at Kohane, “He’s always the first to help other people, even if he doesn’t seem like the type of guy who gets all wrapped up in emotional stuff. Whenever it’s someone’s birthday, even if he doesn’t know them, he helps come up with a really personal gift when we get stuck. Akito always fixes problems and does whatever he can to help others.”

Ena heard Toya let out a small laugh. “Akito is so bold. He’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. He’s honest to a fault, but it somehow turns out well every time. He’s loud, and strong, and shamelessly himself, and it’s the most refreshing thing in the world.” Ena could hear the admiration in Toya’s voice as he tried to quench the smile that struck his face when he talked about Akito.

“He really deserves the world,” Kanade whispered. “He loves this world far more than he should for someone who has been treated so poorly by it. He sees everything through such a romantic perspective– I don’t think I could handle things falling apart so much.” Ena could hear the tremble in Kanade’s voice that was too strong to hide.

“I don’t want to let Akito go again. No matter what, I’d rather die than let him get like this again. It’s not fair at all, and I can’t just sit idly by without doing anything anymore.” Ena looked up back at everyone, her shoulders back and relaxed and she felt a new wave of promise wash over her. “I don’t expect you guys to act like his best friend or whatever, he’d probably hate it if it wasn’t genuine, but can you help me show him that he’s important? I need– I don’t think I can do it alone.” Everyone began to nod and say their promises to Ena, that they would help Akito get better because he needed it to continue breathing, to continue living and to continue existing, but Ena caught Mafuyu’s stone gaze.

“What will you do if Akito-san makes it clear that he doesn’t want any help?” Mafuyu asked, her voice cold like a brisk winter day, but not biting or harsh. She was speaking true to her own heart.

If Akito doesn’t accept help?

If Akito doesn’t want to get better? If Akito ends up on the floor again, laying in Ena’s arms as they both weep over the missed opportunities they passed up lifetimes ago? As Ena feels the blood of her little brother spill out onto the clothes she loved, as his fingernails became caked with the overwhelming red that scared her beyond any frightening scene in a movie?

The scariest part of this plan, the plan to “save Akito”, was that it Might Not Work.

Akito could still end up dead. It wasn’t something so easy to come back from.

But, “No matter what, if I were to stop trying, I would never forgive myself. Whether Akito lives or dies, I owe it to him ten times over to help him keep living,” Ena sighed out. She took a sip of the mango iced tea Rui brought her. It was sharp, sweet, and fresh, something that would refresh her on a hot summer day in the sun. She took a deep breath and inhaled, tasting the bright mango that lingered. Her mind was clear.

Ena was about to continue talking, but a nurse tapped her back from behind. The nurse had a gentle look on her face when Ena turned around. “Excuse me? Are you Ena Shinonome?  Your mother had me come look for you,” the nurse had a sweet and patient voice, but it felt awkward. Like there was something else she had to say. Ena’s eyes widened and Toya began to ask the nurse about Akito, before An lightly slapped his hand to quiet him down.

The clarity that was previously in her mind dissipated in an instant. “Y-Yes! I’m her. Is it about my brother, Akito? Is he alright? Is he alive? ” Ena shot out her questions like she was holding a gun and was rapidly firing away at the poor nurse. The nurse gave her another smile, looked at the other eager teenagers at the table, and whispered to Ena, “I can fill you in as we make our way to your mother.”

Ena immediately shot up from where she was sitting, and turned around to the others to send a quick nod their way, signalling that she’ll tell them whatever she hears. “Yes, o-of course! Please lead the way!” Ena gave the nurse a small bow and pulled her hand away from Mizuki who was still holding it. Mizuki’s eyes were flooded with determination, and Ena prayed to every god that existed that she could deliver good news.

The nurse was still silent as she guided Ena through an empty hallway, and Ena wrung her hands tight. Her stomach was buzzing with anxiety and a horrible feeling that she wanted to run away from, because what would she do if the nurse told her that her little brother was dead? If she was walking her to a room with his unmoving and unbreathing body, left to say her goodbyes before she’d be torn away from him?

Ena needed Akito to be alive. He couldn’t just die like that. It wouldn’t be fair– almost sixteen years of the best person in her life would be for nothing. She’d only recently realised how much Akito meant to her. How could she continue to live if he was dead?

And what if he was? Would she have a heart attack on the spot and die with him, in the same, white, hospital room? Because they were bonded and connected through blood, through memories, through the fabric weaved together to create a canvas where the most beautiful stories were told, through the tears Ena cried onto Akito’s face as she held him, trying to breathe life back into him.

How could she live without the brother she was supposed to protect?

There was so much for them to still do. So much for Akito to do. Millions of dreams, millions of seconds, millions of breaths.

This couldn’t be the end. If Akito were to die now, then the entire world would be rendered into nothing because how could the world continue to spin without its brightest star leading the way? Without the warmth and generosity that nurtured the people, coming from the centre of it all?

How could the world keep living without Akito? Ena couldn’t shake the thought.

Ena didn’t want Akito to turn into a black hole. Ena wanted Akito to be okay. To be alive.

To keep breathing.

Because, really, nobody in the world deserved more than Akito to keep consuming the oxygen needed to survive. Even if he caused the entire world to burn up into a fire, the flame within Akito’s heart deserved to never be extinguished.

Because he is her little brother. He is Akito Shinonome.

He is the best person the world will ever see, and letting go of him would cause everything to stop existing. The world cannot let go of him so early.

So he had to be alive. There would be nothing left if he wasn’t.

Ena’s throat contracted with a small sob before she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the noise. She tried to wipe the few tears that fell from her eyes to stay calm when the nurse turned to Ena. She gently grabbed ahold of Ena’s hand, and Ena could see that she was on the younger side. She looked Ena in the eyes, with a reaffirming look that steeled Ena into place.

The nurse took in a deep breath, and Ena mimicked the inhale.

This nurse had the power to completely alter Ena’s life with just a few words. Her stomach flipped on its side, over and over until Ena felt like throwing up. 

“I’m not supposed to tell you this until we get there, but your brother is alive. There shouldn’t be any major issues from here on out.”

Your brother is alive.

Ena’s cheeks began to itch with tears and the smile that stretched too wide on her skin.

“My brother is alive?” Ena gasped out, hands shaking like a feather in a tornado, lifted by the weight and pull of it all, because Akito was alive . Akito was alive.  

The nurse smiled at her and nodded gently, Ena giving her a brief and awkward hug far too deep into her thoughts to care.

“Everything will be okay now?” Ena whispered to the nurse in glee. Akito is alive. She had the chance to fix this, now, and there wasn’t any need for fear, because Akito Was

Alive. Every memory, every emotion, every tear, every word uttered, every breath taken– every Thing to Ever Exist. Was okay. Because Akito was Alive.

“Everything will be okay now,” the nurse repeated back to her, and Ena cried out in victory, because this wasn’t the end, and the story could continue, and their lives wouldn’t be for nothing.

Ena felt like she could breathe again.

Ena could understand how Akito let the world dictate his very being; his verdict on life, because to live was to fear what’s left to come.

|

“Mom? Akito?” Ena pushed the door open after the nurse left her in the room Akito was in, and saw her mom’s reddish-brown hair and tired face sitting on the side.

Their mom stood up from her seat, but Ena saw Akito laying on the hospital bed, and she couldn’t stay still. She rushed to Akito’s side, and god, he was so pale. Thick layers of gauze and bandages were wrapped around his wrists, but hell, he looked more peaceful than Ena had seen him recently.

He looked more peaceful than when he was drunk and skipping school– when he was giddy beyond belief because he knew that he would die without ever having to Face The World (that he wanted nothing more than to run from). Akito looked serene, like there was nothing going on in his mind– not even a bad dream. His skin was so taut and appearance so raggedy that if it weren’t for the quietly beeping monitor beside his body and the ever-so-noticeable rising and deflating of his chest, Ena would think he was a corpse.

Ena grabbed a hold of his left hand, the one with less cloth wrapped around it. Apparently he had older wounds on both limbs and they had been infected from lack of care. The cuticles and skin around Akito’s hands were frayed, and hangnails were peeling off of his fingers. His skin was dry and rough, like the energy and life from it had been sucked out entirely from his grasp.

“He’s been stable for a bit now,” their mom quietly spoke. Ena turned her head to look at her mother, who she hasn’t talked to in weeks. She looked dishevelled, like she belonged on that hospital bed instead of Akito.

“Why didn’t you come get me sooner? I’ve been scared out of my mind for like, six hours. Did you just forget, or something?” Ena accused, because she knew that her mother had forgotten how to exist as a parent, and she forgets how to manage three children, herself included.

“I’m sorry, Ena. I had to call your dad before he arrived. He was supposed to come back from his business trip today, but instead he’s coming straight here. He was worried, to say the least, and I talked to him for a few hours.” Her mom’s voice was apologetic, like she truly didn’t want to cause such an inconvenience, but after years of the same bullshit, Ena didn’t feel like hearing her out.

Ena pretended like she didn’t see the distraught face her mom held, like she didn’t have redder eyes than Ena, and that she didn’t look on the verge of tears while trying to hold herself together.

“A few hours? What the hell were you even talking about for so long while Dad was on the road? Hey, you know, I’m part of this family too, whether you like it or not. I was trying to scrub the blood out from underneath my fingernails, wishing and praying to every god out there that Akito would be alright. That he would be alive, and that we wouldn’t be his murderers because we all had ample opportunity to help Akito. But yeah, a few hours, what the hell does all that mean, anyways? Apparently, it’s nothing to you,” Ena angrily bit out. She dropped Akito’s hand halfway through her outburst, because the thought of touching her little brother after all the wrongs their family has committed against him was unfathomable.

Kanako Shinonome shrivelled under her daughter’s stare, like a fraying vine that wrapped around the house they lived thousands of memories in. Always hiding things away. Always deflecting. Ena was sick of it. “Your dad and I were talking about how we move forward as a family.” Her mom’s face was solemn and shaky, as if she cared the entire time. Ena was pissed off at her because they were both equally guilty for what happened to Akito, but her mom had already been doing something to fix it. Ena just stared at his body in regret.

“ Move forward? What do you even mean by that? You’re acting as if Akito can just be fixed by saying a few nice words to his face. You don’t even know the scope of all this.”

“ Ena...  Akito tried to kill himself. My baby tried to kill himself. I don’t know for sure what’s going on in his head, but I can’t just leave him like this. I know I was a horrible mother and I can’t just fix it like it’s nothing, but I can at least start trying now. Being there for him is the first step, and that’s what me and your dad have been trying to do this past month. It’s beyond selfish, but I can’t imagine living without him,” she spoke truthfully.

Ena turned her head away from her mom to look at Akito. She was just as guilty as her mom. She couldn’t get mad at her without being mad at herself forever. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Almost her entire life was spent hating her little brother for his talents, but in reality, she was the one to be hated for her actions. 

Ena was selfish. And so was her mom, and so was her dad. And they forced Akito into a mold in which he believed it was his fault. That’s how this all happened. It was a horrifying realisation— that Ena stifled such a bright spark because of her own jealousy. Akito Shinonome, the brightest hailing from this family, was deprived of the oxygen he needed to thrive.

There was so much that could’ve been done to save him before, but now? Ena didn’t know what to do. All she could do was hold his hand and be there with him to heal from the wreckage she caused in his life. But would it be enough? She couldn’t do this alone, but what if everything anybody tried didn’t work? What if he just pretended again, just like he had for years, that everything was okay. Would he end up living past these days? Would he learn how to live without the fear of actually breathing? Would Akito survive this, even if his heart was still pumping, and his lungs were still functioning, and his brain was still thinking?

Would it ever be Enough?

Akito Shinonome. A singer, dancer, and performer who is brave enough to pour his heart out onto dozens of stages when Ena was only brave enough to do it anonymously online. He was fifteen years old, and had natural orange hair that would change in vibrancies whenever his mood dropped. He worked at a clothing outlet, where he tirelessly helped his customers find the greatest outfits that would match who they were as people, rather than just what was trendy at the time. He didn’t care too much about school, but whenever he was dedicated to an assignment or test, he would always come back with extraordinary marks. Talented in dozens of things– far more things than Ena– cooking, art, singing, dancing, emotions. Akito could do it all, so long as it was for another human being. Never for himself.

Akito Shinonome, who would help people whose hearts were crying in pain and were unable to pick themselves back up.

Akito Shinonome, who would conceal every ache that his soul felt because he was shoved into this sticky web of horrifying and cruel thoughts that he imposed upon himself.

Akito Shinonome, a boy full of more life than anyone Ena will ever meet. Akito Shinonome, a boy who wanted to die because he believed that was the best way to handle it all. To wipe the Earth clean of himself, to rid it of him, because that was the only way for him to find happiness.

Akito was alive. But would it ever mean anything?

Ena let out a sob, falling apart with the weight of Akito Shinonome’s life . It was all in her hands. It was all up to her. How did Akito ever do this alone? Ena could see it now, why Akito saw this as the best thing to do.

It’s terrifying to live.

It’s terrifying to confront every truth and reality that you always wanted to run from.

It’s terrifying to speak your mind, to be brave, to make your mark on this world.

But someone as bold as Akito, whose humanity ran through his veins; whose humanity was the same colour as the blood that kept him alive– lived.

Akito lived. And Akito was still alive. Could Ena help him breathe again?

Ena could understand the fear that ran through Akito’s veins, because if all else failed, there would never be anything left.

|

When Ena left the room to talk to the friends who were waiting on her, Kanako Shinonome stood up to sit by her son on the hospital bed. His arms were littered with thin and thick lines that wrapped around each inch of skin he had, and she couldn’t help but trace a few with her delicate fingers.

She imagined how he must have felt when making the marks– when the blood spilled from underneath his skin and how the cuts healed up with scabs that were too red to blend into his unmarred skin.

She imagined the nights when he would stumble into his bedroom, drunk and begging to be stripped from this world.

She imagined how he must’ve felt about his life, his passions, his goals and dreams and everything he wanted about his life. And she imagined him falling from the highs that came from living and meeting people whose humanity was painfully clear.

She imagined how he must have hurt. How the people he interacted with shaped who he was and the thoughts that lingered in his mind. How easy it was to inflict pain upon himself because it was easier than dealing with the pain that came from the world. How he would cry and how he would regret ever living past a certain time of his life.

She knew that Akito was suffering. Kanako saw this coming for a long time.

It was easy to imagine, because they were the same people.

Before she first met Shinei, she was a scared girl living in a world where nothing made sense. She used her photos as a way to look through the world from a different lens; one much different and cleaner than the one that caused her pain. Aside from her photography and art, she would indulge in things that caused harm to herself because there was nothing else. Being unloved and hated by the world, by the people who introduced her to it, by the very things that were supposed to love and support her forever, made it harder to breathe.

The same scars and substances that Akito pushed through his heart had appeared in Kanako’s life, with the same potency and power over her existence.

But she never wanted her children to follow the same path as her.

They were only 20, but Ena first came into the world, Kanako and Shinei were beyond happy. This would be their chance to break free of the life that they always lived. They could start a family where they could teach their children what it was like to be loved and appreciated for their abilities and effort. After Akito was born, it was fine at first, but it wasn’t long before it fell apart.

Shinei had always been obsessed with creating art. With crafting something that had meaning higher than any other thing, and he pushed the same dream onto his children. Kanako supported it– she never told him no, and she would always go with him on trips to art stores to purchase materials to teach their children about the beautiful things they noticed about the world.

Kanako loved Shinei because they were the same people. They were hurt by the world and the people in it more times than they could count, but they still pulled through with their romanticization of life. And Shinei wanted to introduce it all to Ena and Akito. He didn’t mean to send them at odds– he just wanted them to love and cherish the valuable art they created.

But when they were raised in the way that Shinei and Kanako were, it didn’t go according to their plan. Shinei began to hate, with Ena following and Kanako coming towards the end. And when Akito was the only one to break out of the cycle of hatred, he became the target of the anger in the family.

Akito never hated his family, but he took their hatred and internalised it. It made the rest of them even worse, but they had escapes from the hell they created. They had people and things to rely on, but they also stole everything that Akito could have had.

And Kanako was angry, because throughout the fifteen years of her family’s existence, she became exactly like her own parents who neglected her during the most important years of her life– when she needed a sign that she was loved and that she was something– anything.

And now, her only son laid in a hospital bed with too many scars to ever fully heal. And she did not know if he could be saved after the damage she caused.

Kanako squeezed Akito’s hand. She took in a deep breath and kissed the gentle skin of his forehead. “We’ll make it through this, baby.” I’m so sorry.

Kanako could understand how Akito was unable to adapt to the cruelty of this world,  because he took after her in every way, shape, and form, and she was the one to bring this upon him.

|

Akito woke up not knowing how to breathe.

The first thing he noticed was the blaring lights pounding his head and his eyesight struggling to adjust from his blurred sight to the blobbed heads of familiar people sitting by where he was laying down.

The second thing he noticed was the dryness of his throat and a horribly painful cough ripping out of it.

His arms felt heavy and he was unsuccessful in bringing them to his mouth, but it didn’t matter when he just looked like a fish with his mouth gaping open. He sputtered out more coughs and even at his place on an uncomfortable bed, he was dizzy.

Heads in the background twisted but he was just trying to get breaths into his lungs. Thick mucus and saliva pooled in some places of his mouth but left the other ends dry like a wasteland. Bile rose up his throat like acid deteriorating another substance. 

Akito was trying to breathe, trying to feed his body oxygen that it had been starved of, but his throat just felt like it was tightening. Someone, who sounded vaguely reminiscent of his mother when he was younger and she was kinder, was shouting at him to take it slowly and to breathe. But Akito didn’t know how to breathe and he was panicking and he wasn’t getting air and how could he breathe? 

It took him a minute for the coughing spells to go away, but every intake of air left his throat tingly and itching to cough again. He had coughed so hard that tears were streaming down his face and snot dripped from his nose.

When his eyes refocused, he noticed his mom wrapping her arms around his head and sitting by his left side on the bed. The white bed, the bed that was definitely not his own. The bed with monitors and things connecting to his arms next to it. His arms, his exposed arms all the scars and all the scabs and the marks and they were ugly they were so ugly they were so rough everything was out for everyone to see–

“Akito? It’s okay, I’m here for you. It’s okay, now, just breathe. ” her voice cracked with genuine fear and guilt.

Akito brought his hand to hers that was holding the side of his head.

Akito was confused. Why was she here? Where was he he was alive he wasn’t dead he was, he was, he was, he was, he was somewhere that he didn’t want to be. He couldn’t think where was he and why was his mom crying and why was there a doctor in the room that he didn’t recognise and why was Ena sitting at the end of his bed and looking horrifically sad why? Someone please tell him why.

“Mom…?” Akito whimpered out. He wanted to take a deep breath to invigorate his body, but his eyes would not stop looking at everything. Other people were speaking but he could only hear and feel his mom. 

“ I’m sorry for everything, my baby. ”

Why would she be sorry? What was she sorry for? Akito felt so weak why was he so weak why couldn’t he move or think or breath or feel anything at all. Akito took in sharper breaths.

“Mom, let go of him for a sec– he needs to breathe.” Ena reached her arm towards their mother to pull her away from Akito.

Ena.

“Ena?” Akito muttered, but he was in a daze.

Ena. Did she know what he said? Did she read the letters? Did she know? She has to know she has to know she has to know but Akito has to be dead. He was supposed to be dead what was this was he alive? 

“Talk to me, Akito. What is it? Please, tell me,” she pleaded to his face and he could see the pain in her eyes.

Her eyes looked directly into his. She was real. He was real. Her face said so.

Because he was conscious.

Akito was alive.

And it was a terrifying realisation.

“Ena? Why am I… aliv e ?” He didn’t blink. He didn’t avert his eyes like he had for the past few weeks anytime someone tried to talk to him. He couldn’t bear to make eye contact with another living and breathing human, and yet.

He looked Ena in the eyes.

Unwavering.

Completely.

And utterly.

Alive.

“ Oh, Akito– ” Ena pulled him into a tight hug and she didn’t cry. She didn’t sob. She was strong and she held him close. Like Akito was a loose balloon drifting off into the wind and she was a young child trying to catch it.

But someone so small couldn’t reach something so far away. Something that was already gone.

A violent pang in his heart threw Akito off-guard and he curled himself inwards. It was the one thing he wanted in this world. He abandoned everything else for this one hope and this one want in his life. So why? “I said goodbye. Ena, why did you call them why did you do that, why didn’t you let me die? Please, I don’t want this. Stop trying, just stop, give up already, please I already did–” Ena just kept on gently hushing his words and telling him no. No. No, what? No, no, no, no, no, no, no. The words repeated in his head. Like hard candy being tossed around in a metal tin meant for something else.

“Did you give up on me whenever I was horrible to you? Whenever I was upset so I pushed you away and hurt you? No, you didn’t, so I never will. I can’t let you go. ”

“They all want me dead, I can’t, I can’t, I can't, I shouldn’t be here– ”

“No, no, no, Akito. Who said that? Whoever said that is wrong and they’re just trying to hurt you–”

Just leave me to die.

Akito could hear more people coming into the room. He heard fragments of their voices. Their stares. Their pity. Their glances. The colours of their hair. Their clothes. The exhausted looks on their faces that he knew stemmed from him.

People filed in and out and they were talking to him, but Akito just covered his eyes with his hands and filtered out their voices.

Just stop thinking. And it was like cotton was stuffed into his ears. Everything was fuzzy, like there was nothing at all. It felt nice to drift like nothing meant anything at all.

They put thicker blankets onto his bed, comforting ones that he recognised the textures of. Ones from his house, ones from his bedroom. They wrapped around his limbs and provided warmth and comfort and a place for him to burrow into. They were soft. He could feel them grace the skin of his arms and they were plush against his rough skin. He laid on his left side and traced the patterns of the blankets with his fingers.

His eyes followed the movements of his hand and the room was lit only from the natural light coming in from the windows. There was always someone in the room. Sometimes there was verbal silence. Sometimes the television was on. Sometimes there were fans going. Sometimes there were people in coats. But there was always something.

And Akito chose to ignore the something.

|

It really scared An to see Akito so unresponsive.

After Ena told the rest of them that Akito was alive, she’d never felt more relieved, and when An was able to see him, she was even happier. When she entered the room, holding Kohane’s hand tighter than a vice, her heart skipped a beat when she saw him lying on the bed, hooked up to machines that beeped to prove he was alive.

Toya ran over to where he laid, almost tripping over himself, but Akito didn’t show any signs of responding. He was technically awake the whole time they all talked to him, but it was like there was something in his mind that glazed over every one of his senses and turned them to mush.

And his face.

Oh, his face.

Sometimes he looked like a crying child who ran out of tears and other times he looked confused and scared.

After he awoke, the group didn’t want to leave the room. Kohane, Toya, and An couldn’t leave him, not after they had for so long. They felt relief from him being okay but once it passed they could only feel guilt and regret. Anger with themselves.

What Akito did wasn’t selfish, but it was still something that hurt them because they knew they could’ve helped sooner. But what could only three fifteen year olds do to save their friend?

Toya wouldn’t stop crying. Half the time, he was next to Akito in the bed and just sitting there, waiting for him to show some form of strength. He was alive, no doubt, but something in his brain was just stopping him from working correctly.

Like it was hiding and running away from it all.

Like he was terrified at the prospect of living.

In truth, An didn’t know how they were going to move forward. No just in terms of their group, or in terms of Akito, but how they were going to move on in their lives. They all had this ginormous dream that they were so close to attaining, but nobody had ever mentioned anything about what they were going to do after it.

Maybe Akito was just too scared. Maybe the idea of moving on was terrifying to him. Or maybe, his thoughts and the possibilities and the burdens and weights all became too loud on his shoulders.

Like a never-ending echo. Sometimes the echo was loud, like a scream. Sometimes it was mellow and soothing like a melody from a song.

But whatever the case, it would always be stuck in his head. Like life itself.

Things change. The echo changes.

Things get harder to bear. The echo gets louder.

Things are lightened because of the souls we are surrounded by. The echo becomes at peace.

And sometimes something comes along and amplifies the sound, leaving ripples and waves. Sometimes it sounds unharmonious.

Everybody was human, but at times, we all have moments that define who we are. How our heart beats to our own echo. Our own rhythm. Our own thoughts.

An could understand how Akito felt stunned at the rapid movements of life. Sometimes they were too hard to handle on our own.

|

Akito felt fear.

When you’re so willing to die,  fear is not a common feeling to feel and why is he feeling it Once more ever since that day – But in the face of Toya Aoyagi sitting by his side on the hospital bed, hands mindlessly running through orange hair, he felt it again.

Akito felt his heart beat faster.

He heard the machine beep in closer increments, the speed his ears processed the sound going faster and faster. Toya stopped touching Akito, he sat up and tried to call Akito’s name to bring him out of his daze,

but nothing worked. (he didn’t know.)

Akito didn’t feel like he existed in his body.

The drowning was loud. (the walls were white.)

The lights were dim. (he saw the colour in his skin, different from the pale he was used to.)

Akito felt tired. Toya held him tight.

|

Kohane used to be scared of everything. Loud and sudden noises could shock her heart out of her ribcage, being thrown in front of other people could cause her to be completely frozen.

The second she had other people by her side to guide and walk next to her, she knew immediately how different it was from before. She didn’t have to be scared anymore. She could be free. She could feel real next to someone else.

Fear hinders. Fear traps. Fear hurts.

But isolation is a venom that bites a million times harder than anything else.

Because being alone felt like an irreversible burden that nobody could ever escape.

Kohane watched as Akito unconsciously laid as if he was completely alone. Remote and forgotten. And–

Kohane could understand how Akito didn’t know what living was like, because he had never seen or felt the support of another.

Kohane could feel. Kohane knew what it was like because before An, and before Toya, and before someone as strong as Akito came along, she was all alone.

And they all agreed, that day, that they would do everything to help Akito. Because Akito meant more to them than any bit of pride or annoyance.

|

When his eyes peeled open, he felt someone holding him while they laid in the bed with him. Toya. He was holding his hand. Someone was speaking and there were a lot of people in the room. Akito counted the heads he could see from his current position on the bed. Ena, Toya, Mom and Dad, An, Kohane, Kanade, and Mizuki were in the room. It was scary for all of them to see how vulnerable he was. Akito wondered how long they had been waiting there.

On the wall was a whiteboard with the current date on it. Sunday, 1 October. He’d only been out for a day or so.

There was a female doctor holding a clipboard who was talking to the people in the room. He started to hear the words the doctor was saying and the short responses everyone else in the room gave. “–discharge on the seventh of October, but we recommend Shinonome-kun stays in the hospital for a few extra days to be thorough. If you choose for him to stay, we will move him to another room where he’ll be treated with a lot more attention as opposed to these lower capacity rooms.” Treated with more attention. Akito didn’t need that. He was in a hospital right now, but he really should just go. Just leave everything behind and run.

He made a mistake calling out to Ena that night. He could’ve just died and let it be done with.

He saw his parents look at each other with an understanding look in each of their eyes. “We were talking earlier, and we think that it might be best to keep him here for some extra time. We aren’t yet sure how to move forward in… this, Takahashi-sensei.” His dad’s voice was a lot more emotional than what Akito remembered it was capable of. They didn’t know how to move forward, and yet, Akito couldn’t recall asking them to do that in the first place.

It’d be a waste to delegate all of these resources to me. When the tears fell, and the children stopped crying, and the bells were echoing through the town, they would sing, forsake this body, upon its omens of regret, forsake this body.

“I want to go home as soon as I can. I’m breathing and alive, so I really should be fine to go,” Akito said in annoyance, because he needed them to stop and give up on him. The more they hated him, the more likely they would be to leave him alone again. Was that so much to ask? All of their heads snapped to Akito and he immediately knew an even bigger headache was incoming.

A few of his friends called out his name, like An, Kohane, and Mizuki, but Toya and Kanade just gasped a tiny bit. Toya was the most startled even if Akito was literally in his arms and he would usually be the first to notice he was awake. 

“Oh, good morning, Shinonome-kun! How are you feeling right now?” The doctor, Takahashi, cheerfully asked him. I feel like I shouldn’t be alive.

“I’m tired.” Some of the people looked sad at that. There were ten people in the room including Akito, but the more people there were the less he felt like a person. More like a glimmering object in the middle of the world’s most pathetic stage; a hospital bed. His bones and head ached like the worst hangover in the world, and he just wanted to sleep.

“All the more reason for you to stay here with us for a bit longer! We can help you move forward on that.” He didn’t need to move forward. He needed to stop moving at all.

He shrugged, but it didn’t really look like a shrug from his position of half-laying down and half-sitting up on the bed. “I’ve been tired my whole life. It’s not a big deal, I can handle it by myself.”

Her face was apologetic. It made him want to scream. “Well, it clearly is a big deal. We have you on twenty-four/seven suicide watch to make sure that you don’t attempt to take your life again. At this hospital, we have far more resources to help you than whatever you may have at home,” she said in front of everybody. Shame pooled in his gut and his skin prickled with sweat like he was about to get judged and yelled at. Like the whole world hated him.

Suicide.

It was incredibly jarring to hear the word used to describe Akito. 

He always thought of killing himself as a service he did to this world, not a word used to describe a problem or statistic.

He tried to kill himself. He tried to commit suicide.

Failing to do something as simple as that was laughable. Millions of people die at times they don’t want to, and when he actually wanted to die, he couldn’t.

Akito just wanted to go home.

Everything was too hard to deal with. Even if he wasn’t allowed to die, he was okay with just sleeping through his life. It’d be so much easier for him to put up with the exhaustion from simply existing.

“Does it really matter if I get ‘help’, or not? Really, why do you care? I’m just a random teenager who you have no knowledge about.” I’m not special. Who cares if people love me? It’s not like I don’t know that.

“Akito…” Toya whispered to him to settle him down. Everyone else in the room remained silent, not daring to break into the conversation between Akito and the person telling him to literally get help for nothing. It was nothing at all.

Why would it ever be anything?

Akito wanted to go home.

The doctor’s face hardened into something more serious, like she was hurt by what he said. He was just a dumb kid. Ignore him, and your life will be fine. Please ignore him. Please let it stop. “You’re fifteen, right? Turning sixteen in a bit over a month? You’ve come quite a long way since you were born in this hospital years ago. Why do you want to throw it away now?” She was right. Akito was born in this hospital– this city. He should’ve died here too. Akito averted his eyes to bury himself deeper in the blankets of the bed. He tucked his arms and limbs into the blankets, because he didn’t want to stare at the ugly, black stitches they placed over week old gashes that were too big to have healed at that point. Because Akito didn’t want to think about anything, right now. Just nothing at all.

As if noticing his response, she flipped back into her doctor mode from whatever sympathy she showed that Akito deflected. “Whatever the answer may be, I’m just here to do my job, and you are just a patient that was assigned to me. You still have a lot left for you, even if it doesn’t look like it.” She was a kind doctor. It was immediately obvious, even if he had only spoken a few words to her. 

There is no future for me. Akito felt his face fall, but he tried to hide it with a lame attempt at an annoying rebuttal. “If I leave this place, your job will be a lot easier and we’ll both be free from the annoyances of each other’s obligations. I’m not a fun person to be around, Takahashi-sensei,” Akito flippantly replied, but his heart wasn’t into the argument.

He just wanted to sleep forever. He was sure it’d be at least, like, a hundred times easier than putting up with this. 

She sighed with a patient smile and turned to his parents like he wasn’t there.

It wasn’t like it was anything he wasn’t used to experiencing, but he wanted to cry. But, everything has been making him want to cry recently. It was pointless to leave room for anything else. Still, he swallowed down the tears.

“Look, I may not be a psychiatrist, but if you really want the best for your son, I suggest even considering professional help. Mental health is such a stigmatised thing in our culture that we don’t even notice our loved one’s suffering until it’s too late. And even if we do notice, we may not always know what to do to help.”

“ How late is too late? ” Akito tried to quip, but his voice was so low in energy that only Toya could hear it. He squeezed his hand tighter and wrapped an arm around Akito. “ I love you, do you know that?” Toya whispered gently in his ear. Akito felt a shiver roll down his spine, but his idiotic brain couldn’t help but yell in his head that he was just saying that because why would someone like Toya ever love someone like him?

His mom immediately nodded her head, “Absolutely. We’ve all talked about ways we can improve our family because it’s been a wreck for so long, but we aren’t quite sure how we can help Akito, specifically.”

Akito didn’t get why they wanted to help him so much. He was a lost cause, at this point. There was no saving someone like him, because what were they supposed to do? He can’t just magically vanish all of the scars on his body that came from him cutting himself open. He’d live in reminder of it every day.

“Well, we have acting psychologists and psychiatrists in this hospital if you’d like me to send one your way right now. They would be much more helpful in finding you a starting place than I would,” Takahashi-sensei chuckled. “That seems like our best option right now. We would be beyond grateful if you could send a message to whomever you think could help right now,” his father stated, almost diplomatically. Like Akito was a problem he wanted to solve in the most direct and peaceful way possible.

Akito didn’t blame him. He ruined a lot of things going for them, why should his father pour his energy and emotions into him now, of all times? Akito would be okay without them. Akito would be okay. Akito would be dead?

“Alright, then. I’ll make the preparations needed to transfer Shinonome-kun to another department. I also have a friend or two from the psychiatry and recovery track in mind who I think would be willing to take him on. I’ll be sure to update you as soon as everything is settled.”

His mom stood up and clasped her hands together to hold at her waist, bowing at a respectable angle. “Thank you very much for your help, Takahashi-sensei.”

“Absolutely. Please come find me or another doctor if you have any other questions. Please excuse me, now,” she replied before leaving the hospital room.

The room was silent for a moment, but Akito and Ena’s dad stood up as well. “Kanako and I need to talk for a moment. We’ll be in the cafeteria,” he said before standing up to usher his wife out gently by the back. His mom smiled gently at him, horrifyingly apologetic tears in her eyes, teasing over the edges of her eyelids before she blinked them away. Akito didn’t break eye contact until after she looked away from him.

“Take everyone else with you,” Akito mumbled from the bed, his face buried into a pillow. He just wanted to sleep. Let me be alone– what am I gonna do, break off the leg of a chair and stab myself with it?

“Akito, baby, you need to have at least one person with you. Who do you want to stay?” his mom asked him, looking at him with the same sweet face that she always did.

He knew she loved him and Ena more than anything else in the world.

He still hated himself for what he did to her.

“Toya can stay. Everyone else should go home,” Akito’s voice was blanker, because what other emotions should he portray in his words? What other hymns should he scream out into the world so that they could all hear his cries and pathetic feelings?

“ Okay, baby.” His dad nodded at Toya for him to stay, and everyone else picked up their stuff to leave the room. He heard Ena whisper something he couldn’t decipher, and An and Kohane smiled brightly at him, holding peace and heart signs with their hands, even with the meagre scraps of energy they had left.

His parents slipped out the door as his other friends left. “We love you, Akito,” his mom repeated.

“You can’t forgive a kid who doesn’t have any remorse for his actions!”

You really can’t.

Akito felt a tear roll from his left eye down an inch into the pillow his head laid on, and he shifted his head to hide it from his face. Akito saw Kanade look at him through her sleek bluish-grey hair as she walked outside the door. She waved slightly at him, and her face was sad. Akito couldn’t understand why.

Akito angled himself away from Toya when they were alone. He was on his side, back to Toya because how could he look at him? 

Toya used his fingers to gently comb through Akito’s hair, and he rested his chin on Akito’s right shoulder. It was quiet for a few minutes, and Akito could tell that they’d both fall asleep soon.

“It isn’t your fault, you know.” Akito’s voice was barely above a whisper, because they didn’t need any more than that. Toya could always tell what Akito was saying, whether it was coherent or not. They had spoken more words to each other within the few years of meeting than they have with anyone else in their entire lives. Why wouldn’t they know everything about each other at that point? Their speech patterns, their perspectives, their thoughts. Akito didn’t need to waste energy speaking loud and clear to Toya. Toya already knew.

Toya didn’t talk for a minute. He repositioned himself to lay on his back, staring at the ceiling while Akito’s back was facing him. “I know. I just wish it was. I think it’d be easier to fix that way.” Toya wasn’t stupid. He knew that Akito wouldn’t just get better on whatever bullshit therapy path the hospital recommends. He knew that it’d be easier to fix if he could just beg Akito for forgiveness, because Akito always listened to him.

Except for this once.

“If I asked you to live, would you listen?” Toya whispered into Akito’s ear.

Toya had been Akito’s best friend for almost three years. They spent nearly every day together after the first year, and they had been harder to split apart than trying to get oil off of a surface without soap.

Toya knew every goal and dream Akito had– where his hopes jumped further than the stars and he worked to them every single day because he breathed for them. Toya knew that Akito was stubborn, and hot-headed, and emotional, but he also knew that Akito could be gentle, and that he liked to take things slow every once in a while. It didn’t always have to be an adrenaline pumped night at the club, performing on stage and letting the world make you into the person you always wanted to be. It could be sweet. It could be beautiful.

Toya knew that Akito knew what he thought of him.

Toya knew that Akito knew he meant a lot to him.

Toya had been Akito’s everything for years. He was practically the only friend he had for a long time, and he would drag Toya along for his stupid adventures into the city while Toya looked at him with the softest smile and held his hand.

The delicate care they shared for each other was connected by ropes that could never be broken or disconnected, because they were more than just friends, more than just partners; they were the other Half to each other.

But Akito always felt like he ripped half of Toya away from his own body to use for his selfish needs. Toya didn’t need Akito like Akito needed him. It had always been obvious.

“I’m tired, Toya,” Akito whispered.

Akito closed his eyes, and slept next to Toya– pretending that he didn’t hear a little cry come from his partner as Toya found his hand under the blankets and held him.

Akito didn’t dream that night.

Chapter Text

His face felt numb.

Maybe it was all of the drugs they were pumping through his body, trying to keep him alive after he downed even more pills. The pills he consumed to eliminate the life in his body that was already so weak after weeks of nothing. He just wanted to leave it all behind, was that too much to ask?

He wanted to rip the IV out of his veins. But he couldn’t feel anything, either way.

He forced himself into a sitting position, where he could see Toya on a chair, reading a textbook and filling out a paper. Toya looked cleaner and healthier than when he fell asleep next to him before. “Toy–” he tried to say, but his throat was unbearably dry and he had to cough out some phlegm that was stuck in it. Toya’s head snapped towards him when he heard his weak attempt to speak.

“Akito–” Toya was breathless when he said his name– “You’re awake.” A smile was light on his mouth and he dropped his pen to the table.

“I am.” He sighed. He rubbed his eyes with his hands that he could barely feel, trying to scrape the crusts in the corners of his eyes so that he could see better. His arms were heavy, he couldn’t feel them, and he had to blink drearily a few times to adjust once more to the light in the room, even if his eyes still felt sticky. Toya was looking at him, but they didn’t say anything to each other. Akito couldn’t form any coherent thoughts no matter how much he tried.

He was just sitting there. Staring at Toya.

Akito was just sitting there, on that hospital bed. Doing and thinking nothing.

nothing at all.

It didn't matter anymore.

Toya stood up from his chair and walked over to where Akito was sitting on the bed and, without bending down, wrapped his arms around Akito and pulled him into a side hug. Toya sat on the edge of the bed and moved Akito’s body around (like a corpse) to be closer to Akito.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Toya whispered in his ear, and Akito felt a shiver roll down his spine.

Toya was happy he was here because the alternative was him dead. Maybe, in another world, things were different, and Akito was dead. In another world, Akito let his blood spill into the grains of the rug in the middle of his room, and he never let out another breath. In another world, Akito would be buried in a coffin and they would dress him in a suit where his mangled skin would be hidden from anyone else’s eyes because it held no meaning.

Maybe, in another world, Ena found Akito limp on his floor, back to the door and arms held by his face but slack against the floor. Maybe, in that place, Ena cried out and ran to hold his body like a doll she carried as a child.

Maybe, in another world, Toya wouldn’t be so relieved.

“What would you do if I died, Toya?” Akito whispered back, words like a breath with his mouth near the skin of Toya’s neck as Toya filed next to him on the bed.

Toya rubbed his hand up and down Akito’s shoulder. Akito felt the chills return. He couldn’t feel, but wasn’t he supposed to?

“You’re alive, Akito. There’s no reason for you to think about being dead anymore.”

“Why, Toya?” his voice was flat. He sounded pathetic. He couldn’t think– how was he supposed to think right now?

“Akito… you’re perfect. You’re everything. Even if your skin is burning and your heart is ripping to shreds, I’d pray to any god out there for you to live.” Toya’s hands were gentle, and it was all too much. Akito felt his face become wet with the tears he tried to keep in.

“You don’t have to die.”

Akito cried into Toya’s chest, shoulders heaving and strangled sounds echoing from his throat. Akito didn’t get it. Why was he crying?

Toya didn’t need Akito, he was supposed to die– that was the one truth he had known for years. Was that the truth? He didn’t feel anything, not even the vacancy from his chest. He couldn’t feel his tears, he couldn’t feel his hands, he couldn’t feel his heart.

“I wish I was dead, Toya–” a sob broke off his words. Did he?

“I know, partner. But you can live. There’s so much left for you to do.”

Akito didn’t believe him. Would he ever?

He was supposed to, “For as long as I live, there will be nothing.” And if he were to understand, maybe that was all the change that needed to be made.

He stared at the white wall. It was clean, and nice, and he wished he lived on it. He drifted off again in Toya’s arms, because he’d been thrown this life preserver that was too scary to let go, and he could hear their whispers in the room when the rest of the world quieted down.

And even then, Akito didn’t believe him. He didn’t know why.

|

His room was cold. The fan he balanced on the edge of the desk next to his bed made the same motorised noise as it’d been making for days. He felt the hum and vibrations that echoed through his bed.

Akito wondered if it would ever stop.

He felt sticky with grime that’d built up on his skin from days of laying there like it was nothing, avoiding everything in the world.

Akito wondered if it would ever stop.

His chest would randomly tighten and his heart would randomly pump thick red blood faster than he could breathe.

Akito wondered if it would ever stop.

He kept on thinking about his life. It was stupid— all of this, but he physically couldn’t stop, even if it made him feel like a pathetic idiot who couldn’t manage his own emotions and actions. He remembered all of the horrible things he’d ever said, all the angry actions he ever made. All of the ill-guided decisions that caused other people to get hurt because of him.

Akito begged for it to stop.

|

He couldn’t feel his hands.

“Are you ready to get started? We’ll be taking a few tests to get a better understanding of what we can do to help,” Takahashi-sensei said. “Okay,” he responded quietly, picking at the cuticles by the beds of his fingernails and everything was a daze.

“I’m going to start with a few physical checkups. Could you come over here and stand on the scale for me? We need to check your weight before anything else,” she asked gently.

He couldn’t feel his hands, but at least he could move his legs far enough forward to step on the metal plate. He looked at the screen– 53.7 kg, it blinked back at him. She took a quick glance at the number before scribbling it down on her paper. He’d never been one to care too much about his weight, but even he knew it was a low number for his height and proportions. He stood uncomfortably in the silence and shifted back and forth on his feet. “Alright, you can sit back down.” As if hadn’t already been sitting his whole life, because he’d never take the stand to do anything good in this life.

He moved methodically, like walking and moving was something he had to remember how to do. When he sat, she lightly pulled his left arm from the sterile plastic seat rest and lifted up a grey vinyl patch with velcro. “I’m wrapping this cuff around your bicep so we can measure your blood pressure and heart rate. It’ll get a little tight, but it eventually stops. I’ll do my best to avoid placing it in tender locations, but there might still be some soreness.” The light squeezing that started around his upper arm was almost comfortable. Everything felt soft, like he was just drifting. It was nice.

When the buzzing of the machine stopped, the final numbers popped up on the screen like a fraction. “Eighty-six over fifty-seven… Low, but your heart rate is a lot more stable than when you arrived. The antibiotics you’re currently on should bring you to an equilibrium within the next few days,” she quoted as she wrote the data down on her clipboard, filling in numbers and scratchy notes in the charts. He wondered how shitty his handwriting would be, especially after having gone so long without writing. And now, he couldn’t feel with his nerves like a normal person, basic motor functions fell beneath him and he needed someone else’s help to bring a glass to his mouth without spilling. He could only drink his crappy hospital soup by cupping the bowl as spoons would clatter into the liquid and splash all over him.

The room smelled like refreshing chemicals and the snap of the latex gloves against Takahashi’s hand broke him out of his thoughts. He could think about everything in the world, but somehow, it didn’t feel like it mattered. She looked up at him and smiled with a soft face, and it was nice. “I’m going to take a small sample of blood that we’ll send to the lab to understand which treatments are necessary for your body to recover. We don’t have clear access to your forearm and elbow, so this needle will be injected via your hand,” she showed him the needle, syringe, and the attached tube. She traced her finger along a thick vein that was visible under his skin, pointing it out to him to watch like a display. “Have you learned about human biology in school yet? This is the cephalic vein. It’s not what we typically use to draw blood, but it works all the same.”

“I’m sorry for making it hard,” he muttered, voice flat like there was nothing behind it but it didn’t Matter, he was sorry but how sorry was he? “It’s not a problem, I enjoy variety,” she chirped as she prepped the needle and wiped his hand clean with an alcohol wipe that smelled way cleaner than any liquor he’d ever consumed. He looked at the diagrams on the walls, words scrambled around charts and with big, colourful letters that asked questions about oneself. He wondered who made those types of posters.

“All done,” she told him after he’d already finished reading a poster about liver problems and moved on to another one, which was funny, because he hadn’t felt a single thing. He looked back down at his left hand. There was a bandaid and tiny square of gauze atop the back of his palm. She tinkered with the vial of blood in her hand, and he saw the volume rise up to the 20mL point before she stored it away in a container. She threw away the used needle, gloves, and other instruments in a red box labelled ‘BIOHAZARD’. She started writing again, this time making brief check marks when she started again, “O negative… The universal blood donor. Your sister was telling us your blood type when you were first admitted in case you needed a transfusion. She’s a very sweet girl.” It was plain for the world to see.

“I’d do anything for her,” he murmured, because what type of brother would he be if he didn’t, and Takahashi-sensei looked up at him. He couldn’t see all of it, but a flicker of emotion rang in her eyes. “I’m sure you would.”

“Alright… now that the boring stuff is done, I’m going to ask you a few questions regarding your recent physical habits. I request that you answer honestly– there will be no repercussions for what you say.” She prepped her clipboard by placing a questionnaire paper above the physical lab charts.

He nodded at her, leaning more into the chair because everything suddenly became heavy. She said there would be no repercussions, but what about the souls scattered across the universe? Would they remain unaffected? Did it even matter anymore?

“I’m going to start with a big question to get it out of the way. Within the last month, roughly how much alcohol did you consume each day?” She asked, voice lighter than previously to cushion the impact of the question.

“I think, like, depending on the day, it’d go from none to a quarter of a litre. It was rarely any more, maybe only two or three times,” he told her, in complete honesty, because there were no repercussions and it wouldn’t be fair to stay silent. It wouldn’t be fair, so be honest. “Alright. How sick would you typically become after consumption?”

“I drank to forget. It was always to a point where I couldn’t remember anything. I never really threw up, though,” which was the truth, because the gagging always felt stuck in his throat and he’d never toss up any more than bile that stung his oesophagus. “Whenever you did throw up, how long would it go on for?”

“Sometimes only a few minutes– it’d go back and forth.  But it’d go on for a while when I made myself throw up, I think?” he answered, but he still felt unsure, like he was going back and forth between one memory and another and then another, and how could he ever know? “When you made yourself throw up?” she pried, but he would answer because it wouldn’t be fair to stay silent. And she was so nice.

“My stomach always felt weird after I ate, or drank, or sometimes I wasn’t even drunk but it would still hurt. I made myself throw up every now and then to stop the feeling,” and he was surprised by the small look on her face because this was normal. “Thank you for answering… Now, would you say that you’ve been stagnant recently? Any physical activity?”

He remembered the swings, and the green, and the orange streetlights that night. It was like a lifetime ago. “I went out on walks every so often. To get groceries, to wander. They were usually for a few hours, though,” because he liked walking to the edge of the world. But nothing would ever compare to that memory on the beach. He made a promise.

“Okay, now I’ll be asking about your food habits. In the last month, what types of foods have you been eating? You mentioned throwing up– which foods were easier to keep down?” He remembered the plates Ena either devoured or left full, and the vomit that he spewed after he ate the same foods. “I’m usually a good cook, but anything that I made by myself made me sick. I ended up only eating small snacks,” and the gnawing, “I always felt hungry.”

She continued writing on her paper, taking notes as if she were annotating a reading, dragging underlines back and forth underneath words that he was too out of it to read. “We should be all done now, so are there any questions you have for me?”

If he could ask her what everything meant, beyond the charts and boxes and numbers, he would. But he didn’t think anything would ever change, and his brain would not be able to understand this whisper of life.

But it didn’t matter. None of this ever would. He yawned, and his right hand shook when he brought it to cover his mouth. She began situating everything else before putting her full attention on him, folding her hands across her lap and staring with interest.

“I don’t think I have any questions for you.” Which was true, because he didn’t question much anymore. He didn’t know anything anymore, and he could ask and ask and ask but there would be no matter, he would always end up ____.

She smiled nicely at him again. And again, he missed the way her eyes sang.

“Let's get you back to your room, then. It’s almost mealtime.” And he smiled back at her, but it didn’t feel like anything.

|

“I don’t want to do art anymore,” Akito’s words slipped out after he knocked onto the door of his Dad’s private study– the place where he only allowed Ena and Akito to work with him once they created works that hit a special criteria. The drafted and unfinished paintings on the walls screamed at him, the splatters from years of buildup and tainted markings speaking in the dark of the room as the only light peeked in from where the study connected by door to the dining room.

Akito breathed in and out. The twelve year old stood beneath the doorframe, waiting for his father’s response. The older artist stopped moving after his words left his mouth, and even in the dark of the room, Akito could see a glorious sketch on the tiny paper he had in front of him.

“What did you say? You don’t want to do art anymore? Is this a joke?” It took him nearly a minute to process his words, and the bite in his brief questions were scarier than the wait itself. He looked at his son, venom in his eyes because he couldn’t believe this confession. He had dedicated years to passing on this practice, this soul.  

But this was Akito’s life. He couldn’t just let it pass by him. His father had taught him passion, and he’d already been draining it from Ena and his mom. If he kept down this path, how long would it be until the drowning stopped? Would it ever?

“You’ve been coming home later and later every day. Is this about that music thing again? Are you going to throw this all away for something so naive?” his father’s voice was incredulous, and Akito felt a shiver crawl slowly down his skin.

“I don’t want to paint, Dad–” he tried to speak, but his father cut him off. “You don’t have to paint. There are millions of mediums for art– Would you rather sculpt? Carve? Draw?” he frantically began thinking of something else, because this art was the only thought he possessed. It gripped him and shackled him and Akito felt the chains that bonded him to the Earth start to rumble.

You don’t get it, and he never would because the flame had died out years ago. The fumes had run out, and there was nothing propelling this facade any farther.

“You have an incredible talent. You’re special. People like Ena fight their entire lives to have even a fraction of what you do, you’re not just going to give it up."

“Art is a waste of time, okay? I’m not doing it anymore! You can’t make me!” Because he had to get better at music, he had to become something greater than this and art was nothing.

“Art is your dream. It was never mine!” And he truly believed it.

But when his father’s face twisted into something foul, something crooked, something betrayed,

Akito couldn’t help but wish he kept his mouth shut.

This pursuit was a selfish one.

|

It took him a second to register An’s warmth emanating from her body next to him. Her hands were wrapped around his upper right arm and her head rested on his shoulder, bluish hair dripping down the blanket that was covering both of their bodies. 

She was laying down with him, but unlike Akito for what seemed like the last few hours, she was wide awake.

She was lying in wait, biding her time for something to come.

Akito wondered how long she would wait for him until she gave up.

Akito knew An noticed him waking up, but she remained silent even then. The window on their right was open and he saw the light peek onto the windowsill from the first floor room they were located in. He saw the green of the grass, the bushes and hedges. He saw the blue of the sky and the white of the clouds, beckoning towards the bright sun to come out and shine.

He saw a bird that approached the window, sitting and resting beneath the rays of light that provided it the same warmth An gave Akito.

When the bird turned to look inside the bleak hospital room, its black eyes blinked when they met Akito’s and its wings fluttered to lift itself away from the first story window. Akito knew why he was located on the ground floor. All patients who were at risk of suicide were put in a place where they couldn’t jump out of their windows and make another attempt on their lives.

Akito wished he was that bird, free to fly away from this place.

It would be nice. He thought, at least, For him to fly alone in the world and see a different perspective of everything— everybody’s fragments of life. To feel the blue of the sky rush over his tainted skin, grateful for the feathers to hide himself. To fly through and above the clouds, the beautiful oranges and pinks and reds brushing their white canvases.

He’d have it all to himself. There’d be nobody there for him to hurt anymore.

He would be free.

But he was not a bird. So he stayed within this bed, limbs clinging to the cheap, thin sheets, victim to the costs of life, instead of floating through the skies without anything chaining him down.

“You can live.”

Akito felt the cold of the room wrap around his hands, making them stiffer than ever. His legs were still numb, and his eyesight was still fuzzy. He didn’t feel alive. He knew he was alive; against every wish he had, he was breathing. His heart was pumping oxygenated blood through his veins, and the IV was pumping a solution through his arteries to keep him alive, and his lungs expanded and contracted to keep him alive.

It wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

Was it his fault for placing the value of life in the frame of what wasn’t enough versus what was enough? All of it. To be, not to be. To try or to fall flat without even a slight attempt.

Was it enough?

Akito isn’t dead.

Was it enough?

He’s alive, and they’re saying he has to live because he can’t die until he knows if it was enough or not.

That’s not fair.

Let it go.

“Where are you drifting off to?” An’s voice was quiet against the noise of the machines next to the hospital bed. Akito looked outside the window again. The bird was back– no, it was another bird. He watched until it flew off again, just like the last bird. Off to go look for something, something Akito would never find.

He’d always stay in the same place, no matter how much anybody else pushed him.

“I don’t know.” He truly didn’t.

An snuggled closer to him with a smile and laid her left hand on his right. “That’s okay, Aki. We can talk if you want, but we don’t have to,” she yawned into him. Akito observed her face– it had been an entire month since he saw her last, but she felt like the same kind hearted friend he’d known for even longer.

“Talk about what?” Akito whispered to her, his head dropping closer to lay on top of hers. Talk about whatever is wrong with me? Will you ask me why I pushed you away? Does it even matter anymore? It was supposed to. It was missing,

“Oh! Dad added a bunch of new items to the menu to bring in more customers. There’s a curry that’s so good~ We’re thinking about adding some type of cutlet to the bowl. Dad wants to hike up the prices, but all the locals call it a bargain so I’m trying to get him to keep it cheap. I think you’d like how smooth it is– I’ll ask Dad to bring a plate by next time,” An’s voice was rapid like she was casually chatting with a friend about her weekend.

Like they weren’t in his hospital bed after he tried to kill himself.

“Ah, it’s alright. I don’t want to inconvenience him,” Akito mumbled. If Ken were to bring him an entire meal, he’d sink deeper into his debt after he’d already been bringing his friends to the hospital every day. Just so they could see his weak body laying in a dull white room, uttering only a few words between the hours he floated in and out.

“He sees you like the son he never had. You wouldn’t be an inconvenience,” An whispered back, letting go of his hand to fidget with her own. Her change in atmosphere was noticeable. He sees you like the son he never had. Akito thought it was bullshit.

“I haven’t seen him in almost two months because I’ve been too shitty to visit. Why would he still care?” He was just a dumb kid chasing a dumb dream, and Ken was his idol for years. He was practically forced to put up with Akito out of politeness. Akito couldn’t see why any of it mattered.

An started to shake her head back and forth, and Akito could see her swallow thickly. “He’s known you for, like, five years, Akito. You’re not just another kid to him. I wish you could see how much you mean to him… how much you mean to everyone.” Her voice shook in the same way his hands always did whenever somebody spoke to him.

Why can’t I see how much I mean to everyone?

He didn’t know.

Let it go.

He didn’t know.

Let it go.

He couldn’t.

An was looking up at him now, her fidgeting hands moving around his body as she sat up to let him lean into her. Just like Toya. Because he was just a stupid kid who couldn’t control his emotions, and everyone had to put up with it.

“I–I don’t know. I don’t–” It was all so stupid. He was supposed to be dead. None of them would have to put up with his stuttering nonsense, the way he could never articulate his thoughts, how it was impossible for him to stop thinking negatively or even function like a human being.

He didn’t feel real. Just stop. It was gone, by now, gone, flying, it had been exhaled years ago. Where had it gone?

“Oh, Akito. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” An was holding his head like he was a baby, and she was his caretaker.

“No– don’t be sorry. Please never be sorry for me. I just– god, I’m such an idiot– ” Everything kept on tumbling out of his mouth. Why couldn’t he see it all? How they felt about him, because he was someone important in their lives. Was it because he knew the truth? That despite how much they promised that they cared, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He was too lost to come back from it.

“An, I can’t let go.” She rubbed her hand around his head, shushing him to quiet his cries, but hers were even louder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll help you get rid of this pain.”

It would never happen. It’d never be gone.

His heart ripped in two. I’m sorry, An. I’m so sorry.

“I wish it could be better,” he choked out, but he wasn’t even sure he was telling the truth. He didn’t wish it could be better, he wished it would stop entirely.

Just like that.

He was supposed to die.

“It can be, Akito. It can be better. We just have to try.”

It was supposed to stop.

“I’ve already tried, An.”

They held each other as they cried, because they were just two kids, scared by this world because they had never known the true kindness of it.

The beeping of the machines grew louder in their silence. And Akito wondered how the world ever grew so quiet in the first place. Where was it?

|

It stung. Akito pried open the cut wider, eyes focused on the yellow fat underneath his skin that was staring right back at him. The shudder that ran through his nerves seized his muscles for a moment, but it was gone before he could even name what happened.

It took a while, more than 10 seconds for blood to start rushing through it, but he felt his hands shake from the pain and adrenaline his body pumped through him. It was telling him that something was wrong, that he needed to get help because he was hurt and couldn’t fix it himself. His legs started to feel numb from how long he’d been sitting on the toilet inside the school bathroom stall, dragging a sharp razor across his thighs and squeezing blood out from his flesh.

Blood beaded in satisfying strips until it began to overflow beyond the cut’s bounds and spilled over like a full cup. The slow sap dripped down his leg, crimson rivulets going Lower and Lower.

He hated the feeling.

He didn’t want the blood to fall onto the floor. He wadded up toilet paper and dabbed the thick cut, hands tenderly soaking up the red that painted his pale thighs a deep brown and red. There wasn’t an end to the blood, even with the excessive tissue reaching into the cut, cotton unable to clot the wound as he kept pulling it away and dabbing it.

The yellow fat was bubbling up with streaks of red, skin leaking more and more blood. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt, but the sting was addicting as it rolled up and down his nerves. 

He wanted more, but he was afraid that what he had was already too much. The bell was going to ring soon, and he’d have to leave the bathroom stall to return to his seat in the classroom. The classroom void of anybody who would dare even look at him.

Void of anybody who would engage with him, because nobody else saw him as a real human being with thoughts and aspirations and opinions. Not that he could blame them. He truly wasn’t anybody interesting. Just a kid who liked to sing and dance, but not a kid who was going to be anything in his life.

He dabbed the wet blood on his thighs with more toilet paper, ignoring how he was wiping up more clear liquid streaming from his eyes than red blood.

It was supposed to stop.

|

It didn’t stop.

The chatter in the room was warm, but Akito couldn’t help but feel like it was cold.

Not the typical temperature cold, but the cold that came with the vacant hole of nothingness.

There was nothing, and it was laughable to think about how unnecessary every length they went to was, but they all knew it would never stop.

Akito felt ridiculous.

Toya was back next to him in the bed, but this time, Akito was sitting up and sipping on his hospital miso soup that tasted akin to literally nothing. Toya’s left hand was wrapped tightly around Akito’s right fist, beneath the blankets for nobody to see. Akito knew everybody could tell.

“How are you feeling?” Toya whispered into Akito’s left ear, forehead laying on his shoulder as he held Akito’s hand even tighter, like a lifeline he could never let go of.

Akito let out a big sigh and twisted his voice and muscles in his face and made it seem like he knew, like he knew, like he knew, but he didn’t know, “Really fucking bored.” Why had it left?

The others in the room turned to look at Akito, away from their chatting and cellphones. He supposed they were there to make him feel less lonely, even if they didn’t talk to him directly because they could tell he didn’t want long conversations. He stared into Kanade’s piercing yet warm eyes before a voice rang in the room.

“Want us to get a board game or something, lil’ bro?” Mizuki asked, their voice chirping up against the noticeable caution everyone else had on their faces.

A board game… wasn’t ideal . He just wanted to laze around with at least a little substance– not that he needed much to distract him. He wanted anything but the shitty and watery soup he had in front of him, but having to play a game with the others wasn’t much better an alternative. He wasn’t close to half of the teenagers in the room, and he went a month without talking to the other half. A game felt too casual, if not threatening.

He probably wouldn’t even be a fun person to play with, anyways.

“Nah, that’s… I just wish they let me have my phone. Time would pass by a whole lot easier with it.” An entire month passed by as I laid and did nothing but rot. Is it the presence of living people that makes it different? “Yanno, it’s Mom and Dad who don’t want you to have your phone. The doctors never said anything about it,” Ena piped in, her face dropping at the thought of their parents. Ena hadn’t been on good terms with them in years. It was all because of him, and yet, they kept on acting like he was innocent. He couldn’t fathom how they were able to forgive someone like him, much less care for his happiness or wellbeing. Why was his life so important to them? They should just let him die. They should’ve just let him die. Why didn’t they let him die?

“Have they even talked to a shrink yet? Isn’t it all just… normal doctors?” Akito felt his voice go flat, irritation seeping into it as he tried to smooth it out. You’re only in this situation because of yourself. He shouldn’t even be there, right now

“They’re not shrinks… but, you’re scheduled to talk to one tomorrow, actually,” An gently corrected, trying to sound normal but he could still hear the delicacy in her voice.

“Tomorrow? And nobody wanted to tell me?” Akito’s voice was growing more irritated, words slipping from his mouth like a kid who didn’t care for his actions. Which he was, he reminded himself.

Their faces were blank, eyes scattering back and forth between each other to figure out who could give him the softest response. Like he wasn’t another person, and was just an injured child. “Whatever…” he took a pause, but everyone’s eyes were on him. It took him a second of silence, but he realised– he wasn’t just another person. He wasn’t supposed to be there to begin with. “I’m sorry,” he retried, voice almost regretful to their ears, but he was far more guilty in his own head. A creak of the door startled him out of his guilt.

“I don’t think you have anything to be sorry about, Shinonome-san,” Asahina said as she entered the room. Kamishiro and Tsukasa followed her in, both carrying plastic bags in each of their hands. Kamishiro bent down by Akito and Toya on the bed and handed them a bag with a smile. “Oh, thanks…” Akito said in confusion, not knowing what he’d just been handed. He untied the single-knot from the handles and poked his head into it.

Two plastic boxes of cheesecake were stacked on top of each other. And a stereotypical hospital ‘get well soon’ card. Akito took a quick look at the card with a few words of encouragement and jokes. Akito looked up at his three seniors. “Did Ena tell you I liked cheesecake? It’s a Shinonome staple,” he said, picking a plastic fork out of the bag.

“Actually, you told us once. Don’t you remember? You went on a whole rant about why it’s the best dessert,” Tsukasa explained, handing the other bags to everyone in the room. Kanade shook her head to refuse the treat offered to her, but Ena just gave her a look to take the free food for her.

“...Did I? I don’t remember… that.” I feel like I don’t remember anything from my life. Everything zips by too fast for me to take in.

“You forget a lot of things, Akito,” Kanade gently told him as she begrudgingly opened the cheesecake. Do I?

How many important things about people have I forgotten? How many people have I hurt from that?

“Earlier too, you were awake for a while, but you didn’t respond to anything. Like your brain just shut off and didn’t let you process stuff.” Kanade looked solemn when she talked. 

“Huh.” Didn’t process anything. “So I was just like a corpse? Unthinking and unfeeling?”

“Hey, don’t say it like that. What if you really ended up like that?” Mizuki chided. I think that would be the ideal situation here. Everything would feel less embarrassing.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but that was kinda my goal–” Akito tried to retort, but Toya shoved a fork of cheesecake in his mouth. “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.” Toya was looking him straight in the eyes, feeding him a treat that tasted a lot better than the bland soup he was just sipping. Akito’s eyes bore into Toya’s, light flickering between his pupils and tracing up and down the hand feeding him. He couldn’t look away from Toya. His face burned.

Akito turned away and nabbed the fork from Toya with shaky hands to get another bite. He couldn’t feel his hands, but he could still stab a fork into his cheesecake.

“Ew, god! At least let the rest of us know if you’re gonna be disgustingly gay so we can prepare ourselves,” An jokingly gagged, placing her hand to cover her mouth. Kohane giggled, her cheeks stuffed with cheesecake like a hamster and her laugh completely full of joy.

“How can you say that when every moment you’re with Kohane you’re ready to fall to your feet in worship to her?” Akito grumbled.

“Isn’t, like, everyone in this room gay?” Mizuki questioned. Everyone went quiet and looked at each other before bursting out in laughter.

“No, Tsukasa is pretty straight,” Ena poked at him, face stone as if she were completely serious.

Like they were all just normal teenagers joking with the friends of their friends. Like Akito wasn’t lying on a hospital bed with tight bandages wrapped around his wrists and wearing a blue hospital gown. Like he hadn’t just tried to die and stop living because everything was too much for him.

Mizuki barked out a laugh, cheesecake muffling their sound, “Tsukasa is a theatre kid with pink streaks in his hair who sings songs about the power of friendship. He is not straight–”

“Huh? Why am I getting bullied all of a sudden??” Tsukasa barked out, laughter erupting in the room.

Life erupting in the room. Where these people could be something in the presence of others. 

Akito didn’t know how they did it.

Because these people were connected through each other. How they created billions of memories together, relishing in what they have. They were connected in a way that even a complete stranger could tell was invaluable to them. And Akito had missed out on it for his entire lifetime, even before he holed himself up for a month straight. He had spent his entire life standing on the other side of the street, watching the people laugh and smile and talk with their heads held high. His classmates wouldn’t even talk to him as a kid because of how much they loathed him from afar. Some of them didn’t even know his first name. Most of them only started talking to him after his name garnered traction on the internet.

But it was all his own fault. He never tried for anything more than personal gain. He wasn’t close to anybody because he hadn’t tried hard enough to be that in the first place.

Akito knew that was bullshit. He tried everything.

It was supposed to stop. (But where had it even gone?)

Let It Go.

Some of them noticed his drop in mood, eyes flickering between each other to figure out how to handle him. Because he wasn’t stable, or normal, or easy to be around. “But, um… Shinonome-kun–” Kohane said, voice unsteady and unsure and uncomfortable around him but he didn’t blame her. He’d hate seeing him too.

“Kohane, I always tell you to call me Akito. You can drop the surname now.” We’ve been close for months, now. You act as if none of it meant anything. It wasn’t her fault.

“Oh! Yeah– I’m so sorry, but…” Akito heard her voice trail off. He didn’t know if she actually did, but it was too hard to tell. His eyelids started to droop and he felt like his senses were going out of focus. 

It was weird to exist around other people again. It didn’t feel any clearer than it did before.

“–kito? Akito?” he heard Toya in his ear. Akito blinked. Everyone was looking straight at him. Staring into his body and looking at all the lines on every square centimetre of his skin because everything was always there and everything was always everything and there was too much because it was always there and he was ashamed and scared and sorry–

“Yeah.” His eyes glazed over.

“Kohane asked you something,” Kanade looked upset when she said it. Like she knew something that even Akito didn’t know. Akito nodded in acknowledgement. The drugs were pumping through his veins, dulling every sense he had left. And what was the point of life if he didn’t feel? He had tried to remedy the emptiness with death, but now he lived with it once more.

The dullness would always be there, whether it was in life or death.

“Why didn’t you come to us when you needed us the most?” Ena asked him again, voice shaking like a frail animal.

Akito wished he was those birds that flew away before. Free to live without anything chaining him down. And when the birds meet the stars, they swear the sky casts all of their worries aside.

Why didn’t he go to them? Why didn’t he talk to them about his woes and his mortifying thoughts? Why didn’t he talk to him about the things that were of such little importance that he’d rather die than complain about?

“I wrote you all letters. Did you read them?” Akito asked, his voice slow and careful. Anything else would be too much.

“I saw them on your desk when I went home yesterday, but I wanted to ask you first before we read them. They’re still in your room right now,” Ena told him, her voice nothing but saddened.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Akito bit out, words beating like a rhythm of vulnerability spewing out from his heart. Because it had gone, without a trace, would he ever find it again?

It felt like his heart would never decide on one feeling. Sometimes it didn’t matter, but sometimes it did. Sometimes he detested the thought of existing next to another human, but sometimes he was scared to be the only human whose existence he didn’t know of. How could he ever be called a human?

“And why’s that?” Kanade looked like she was going to cry. He knew he was about to cry. 

“I don’t–” Akito started, about to tell them the whispers that burst through his brain to get them to stop knocking on it, but Toya’s hand squeezed tighter around his and he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Toya was trying to remind him that he was surrounded by people who cared about him, not strangers who were peering into his mind.

If only he deserved the love they showed him.

Him, the person they barely knew.

“You’re not obligated to answer our questions, Shinonome-kun. We’re all here to support you, not pressure you into interrogations,” Kamishiro said to him, voice as relaxed as ever. Like a clear spot of sunshine on a rainy day.

But, “Why?”

“Why do you all care so much? Even if I’m not obligated to help you understand, not a single one of you are obligated to ‘help me’. A lot of you barely know me, I haven’t done anything for you that would warrant caring about me,” he whispered, voice low as if his body was decayed on the floor, like a plant killed by a lack of substance or will.

He heard Ena’s sharp intake of breath, eyes widening like she had just seen a ghost.

“Don’t even say that. It’s not fair for you to say that, Akito, and you know it.”

“Don’t cry… ‘m not worth it…” he slurred when she ran her hands under the sink faucet to test the temperature. Her trembling shoulders and back were facing him on the floor and he couldn’t see her face. She turned, and looked him dead in the eye, and he saw tears ricochet down her face. “No… don’t say that…” 

His big sister.

“You’re a human being, Akito. No matter how much any of us know about you, you’re someone who we see in need of help,” Kanade said to him, eyes looking into his– pleading, begging with him to understand. And yet–

“I feel like after everything that happened, it’s my duty to help those who can’t help themselves.” Yoisaki admitted. Akito understood how she felt– likely more than anyone else.

But would his words and actions even reflect that?

“Yeah. Let me guess; it feels like a responsibility that fell into your hands simply for existing?” Akito pondered out loud.

Yoisaki’s head lifted up and down in hasty yet small nods, “Something like that.”

You’re a human being.

How could someone like him ever be classified as human?

“It can never be as simple as that.”

How was he supposed to explain to them that he physically couldn’t change?

How hard he had fucking tried, doing everything when he was younger to be different.

It was impossible for him to explain such fickle things that happened ages ago, and how they made him who he was now. He could barely remember it himself– all he had were just the solid facts.

The facts he had known for so long now.

Akito Shinonome was not destined for happiness.

It was a stupid mantra that would never stop echoing in his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Akito. I’ve been so bad for so long, and you deserve so much better, and I’m so so sorry–” Ena seemed on the verge of tears, voice tightening in the same way her throat did. Her hysteria grew as it always did when she was worried, and he felt guilt stab his heart so thickly he wouldn’t be surprised if it stopped beating right then and there.

“Never say sorry to me, Ena. You’re worth more than that,” he comforted his sister, his Big Sister, who was his everything for so long and still was everything.

For her to apologise to someone like him was the greatest sin he could ever cause.

She choked out a quiet sob at his words.

“And you’re worth so much, Akito.”

I can’t do this.

“...It’s getting late. You should all go home,” Akito whispered out. The farther you are, the easier it will be. Do not corrupt yourselves with my being. I am just another body in the room– it’s taken you all too long to recognize it. His head was hurting.

“Akito–” the sister called out, begging the younger to try to listen to their words.

This is not my world to live in. Ena–

“Let it go,” the brother responded, begging the older to save herself first.

You have to.

Neither of the siblings would win in the end.

|

“Hey kids, are you ready to go home? It’s getting late,” Kanako asked her two children who were playing in the sand together, bodies caked in the gritty material but smiling as if there was nothing more important in the world.

“I wanna watch the sunset, mom,” Ena’s eyes were pleading with her mother, sand on her young face and stuck through every lock of hair she had.

Her younger brother was squatting to her left, back to the setting sun reflecting on the ocean water. He turned his head over his shoulder to his left to look at the sky. The plastic shovel in his hand fell into the soft piles of wet sand. He nudged his sister with his hand, sand under his fingernails and between his fingers.

“Ena– look at the colours.” His voice trailed off, mesmerisation on his face as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. “Can we paint them?” His face was stuck in awe, words whispered into the world with small breaths unheard by the entire universe, his older sister and mother being the only ones who could cherish his voice in this view like the last words ever spoken.

Ena twisted her head to look at the sight, a little gasp leaving the tiny mouth of the little girl. “How is it so beautiful, Aki?” Kanako watched her two children marvel at the sky, watching the world bloom into colours of warmth to say goodbye to day.

“Do you think the sun is happy?” Wonder was evident in their faces as Akito asked his sister a question so small in the world.

“Do you?” Ena asked him in return, and Akito only sat down on the sand to ponder it. His eyes squinted at the sun that was falling closer and closer to the horizon, where it would ultimately lay down to rest.

“The sun looks so happy. Its gonna go to sleep, but it had a good day. It’ll come back tomorrow even happier!” Akito’s enthusiastic babbles were loud and silly, like a little kid being told all his wishes would come true.

“How cool would it be if we were the only ones seeing it?” Ena’s voice was eager, and Kanako couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, I think it’d be pretty cool if it was just us. Why don’t we make it a memory only us three will keep?” Kanako asked her first and second born children, a smile stretching tight and wide on her face.

Akito thought it would be brilliant. “Swear you won’t tell?” He held a pinky finger out to Ena. She giggled and extended hers to his, wrapping her larger finger around her baby brother’s smaller one.

As the sun finally set and the pinks and oranges were replaced by deeper blues, and they packed up their toys as the last people on the beach, they thought that this moment would always be infinite.

Akito Shinonome tried.

He would never tell anyone about it.

|

Ena.

Her brown hair was visibly knotted in the areas that framed her face, and he could see a few small mats forming in the back of her head. Dark circles bloomed underneath her eyes, and her shirt had a ketchup stain or two from how long it had been since she went back home to change it. Her fingers with chipped acrylics continued to scroll the pages on her phone, completely oblivious to how long he’d been staring at her.

She looked like complete shit, but he couldn’t even imagine how horrible he must have looked at that moment. How crappy he must’ve looked during the entire month he’d been locked away at home. Not a haircut in sight, scabs on his face from when he lazily tried to shave the irritating fuzz from his jaw, decaying flesh rotting off of his fucking bones.

He wondered if he looked like her– or even worse– when he went out the few times he did. When he was at the cafe with Ena and her friends, did he look as incoherent as her? When he ran into Asahina, did he look as frazzled as her? When he spent the day with Kanade and eventually around Toya’s friends, did he look as disconnected as her? Was he even worse?

Akito couldn’t find himself able to remember. It felt like huge chunks of that month had been ripped out of his mind– no, like they had never existed to begin with. Like his brain was too fucked to process the moments as they happened.

He could remember that last day, though. His father’s voice echoing from the phone they didn’t let him use in the hospital, Toya’s whispers and warmth buzzing life against his corpse, the pain of a blade inside of his skin, Ena’s face twisting into desperate cries.

He could remember Ena never wanting to leave Akito alone, only leaving when they physically forced her outside of his room to take care of herself, with someone else briefly taking her place.

Why would you let yourself rot like this for someone like me?

He could see her scowling at her phone, the Kuromi charm on her grown out nails rapidly tapping against her screen to text a response to whatever was souring her mood. The door to the hallway cracked open at the same time she looked away to sigh heavily.

Their mom and dad entered the room, and Akito realised how long it had been since he had seen them. Kanako Shinonome, with red ringed around her eyes, looking worse than he and Ena combined— which Akito thought was odd. Why would she have cried so much over him? Shinei Shinonome, once ironed suit crumpled entirely into wrinkles, hair messier and skin greasier than Akito had ever seen him. They looked younger in the grief riddled on their faces, as if Akito had died and all of this was a dream. Like he was a ghost floating outside of his body and watching the world move on without him. It wasn’t any different from what he was used to.

Akito had seen photos of them when they were teenagers his age, and he couldn’t help but picture them as the same kids whose parents were deadbeats and who found life within each other. The thin twenty year olds cradling their first born child in the dim hospital rooms the day Ena was born. The less weary twenty-two year olds who held Akito for the first time, crying with a joy that surpassed anything they’d felt in their lives.

Their parents barely walked into the room. Nobody dared to utter a single word, because what were they supposed to say? I’m glad you’re not dead, even if it would be better if you were? I’m sorry for reacting to your sabotage with reason and for making you feel bad about the undoable damage you caused this family? Akito didn’t blame them for their silence.

His head felt fuzzy.

“Can I stay?” Ena asked, her voice breaking against the beeps of the monitor beside Akito’s bed. Their mom’s head turned up from where she was looking at Akito’s wrapped arms. “Stay for what?” Akito whispered to her, and Ena’s face immediately twisted into guilt. She looked at their parents, eyes fluttering between their mom and dad.

Shinei was the first to move, “We’d like to talk to you, Akito.” Talk to me? About the stitches in my wrists? About the bottles in my room? About my death? About what will inevitably happen? This cannot be undone. This cannot be fixed. You can’t mend me back together with glue. You can’t. You just can’t.

“I think it might be easier if you left, Ena.” Kanako said beneath her breath, and she suddenly sounded like a broken girl in her twenties again. Kanako and Akito were the same souls. The same white lines littered both of their bodies, cutting into their hearts in outrage against this world, this song, the ever-changing and unstable rhythm of it.

“What the hell? Aren’t I in this family too? Whatever you’re talking to Akito about, I think I deserve to hear it as well.” Ena stood up, eyes squinting into a rage of accusations. “I only told you a little bit, and Akito barely remembers it himself. Let me stay.”

“Ena, please…” Kanako walked closer to the two of them as Shinei sat down on the chair across the bed. He crossed his right leg over his left in exhaustion and the suit he donned wrinkled even more. His eyes pinched into discomfort, a telltale sign of whenever his father was feeling pained or upset.

“Don’t I get a say?” Akito whispered, laying his head against the pillow and staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights stretched from wall to wall, but half of them were turned off for his own comfort. The lowering sun outside ran yellow in the white clouds. The birds were back.

“We want to talk about you. Ena can stay if you’d prefer, but it also might be harder on you.” Shinei tried to convince her, but Ena grew even more upset. “Do you even hear yourselves? You’ve both been gone for ages, and now you wanna kick me out too? You don’t know shit about how Akito has been feeling this last month.” Ena bit back, teeth baring as her face twisted into a scowl. What was she even fighting for, anymore? Akito wanted to close his eyes forever. Nothing would ever change that, whether she was in the room or not.

“Do you?” Shinei whispered. His voice was thick.

Ena went silent, her face falling to the floor and fingers trembling from their stagnant hanging from her hands. Akito looked at Ena. Akito looked at Ena. She was beautiful. She was his big sister. And he’d taken her happiness from her. She looked like she’d pass out from emotional and physical exhaustion soon. How important was Akito’s health when compared to hers? It was a no brainer. You should’ve let me die.

“You should go take a shower, Ena. Or get new clothes, or some food. You don’t have to always be watching over me. You deserve a break from this.” The stitches in his arms itched. You should’ve let me die.

Ena turned back at Akito, and she stared into his eyes. The olive-green eyes with a colour so unique she’d never seen it on another soul’s face. The colour she’d tried thousands of times to replicate in paint, but no substance would ever capture the same essence of life.

“I don’t want to leave you again, Akito.” She stared at him, because this was more than just walking out of the room for a few minutes. This was like walking away from their peace. She had walked away from him before, and this was the result of it.

And Akito wished he’d cut off his ears instead of hacking his wrists, because he couldn’t bear to hear the inflections in her voice– the emotion in her words as she talked about him. He took it all from them. (I love you, Ena. But how can you love me too?)

“It’ll be okay. We’ll talk later. I want you to take some time for yourself.” He looked at her as if she was the only thing in the world, because she meant that much to him. My sister. You are wonderful. (Couldn’t he be, too?)

She nodded with tears in her eyes. “Okay, Akito.” Thank you. She walked past his bed, past their parents, and didn’t turn back as she walked out the door. 

It was quiet in the room for a few moments, and Akito stared at his parents who were reflected in front of him. Their faces were the same as they were all those years ago. Every day for the last week, he’d spent hours looking at the photo albums filled with captures of his parents when they were young.

Kanako had been keeping the albums since she and Shinei were in their teens. There were photos from decades ago, an entire lifetime ago, and each depicted a love for the rawest things in the world. Images of brutalist or classical buildings contrasted against the greyest or bluest skies. Images of Akito and Ena as little kids, always surrounding each other as best friends in a world so lonely and desolate they had nobody else. Images of strangers– people– who lived in this world, existing with each of their souls meaning something. Images of her and Shinei, loving as if that was the only thing they could do. Loving as if they were born for it, loving as if they would die for it, loving, as if Love flooded their beings, overpowering any other force in the world.

Akito knew the story of his parents. How they romanticised life past the abusive households they grew up in. The homes that oppressed their souls, oppressed their Love, love, love love, love. How they broke out of those paths written for them in the stars because their Love surpassed the universe.

And even now, in their worn, tired, broken down states, he saw the love whispering in their eyes that he hadn’t in years.

And it was in their eyes when they stared at Akito. Their only son. Their youngest blessing to this world. Rekindle this flame, ignite the strength to find this fragile love again.

“We’re sorry, Akito,” Kanako begged him, a hand to her mouth to stop her cries. And Akito’s heart broke, because they’d all shed too many tears over him already. “Never say sorry to me. I know I don’t deserve it.” This had gone on for years and no matter which thread you picked out from the end, they would all lead back to Akito. His roots had been planted in these grounds, and the only way to stop the spread was by killing them.

This time, it was his dad who had to stifle his noises. “That’s not true, son. I swear to god, that’s not true.” Regret was ringing on his face and Akito had forgotten how young his parents still were. His dad was only thirty-six, and his mom just turned thirty-seven. They weren’t even fourty years old yet, and the weight of living in this world was still heavy on their shoulders. It had never left. “It’s okay that it is. This is how things are meant to be. You have nothing to apologise for–” 

“This was our doing, baby. We let you go. It was never you,” his mom said. Her face was stuck like she was pleading with him to understand. It was never you.

There was no world in which that was true.

“Lying never does any good,” Akito whispered back. Lying was his responsibility. He was the one who was supposed to hide from this world, his cowardice rang clearer than the sun in the sky.

“Akito–” Shinei started, but Akito cut him off, because he didn’t understand. They would never get it. This was all him. It was him. No matter what they would ever say, he split their love apart. He bore this burden of responsibility because nobody deserved it but him.

In those hundreds of nights, where he cried with the universe to take this life away from it, he realised that he would take the pain from everyone around him, because that was the only way to make up for his sins. He wasn’t overly smart, he wasn’t talented or dedicated like they all said, he wasn’t selfless, he wasn’t kind, he wasn’t beautiful, he was cruel and bitter and he took and took and this was the price he had to pay for it.

“You gave me everything. Everything else only happened because of my own faults. How could you say it was you? How?” Akito’s voice was rising now, and he saw something light up in their eyes that extinguished the feeling in his.

You should’ve let me die. If my body were to be found on those wooden floors, my blood dripping into the cracks, maggots reaching deeper into my body than I would ever go, everything would be easier. I can’t hide anymore. I can’t hide anymore.

Akito had forgotten, by now.

“Do you think we’ll ever forget these memories?” Akito asked in the dark. Toya’s hand was wrapped around his, and they both sat on his couch. They’d been out for the entire night, running around Vivid Street and screaming lyrics to their songs after Toya snuck out. They arrived at Akito’s house completely breathless, hand in hand and laughing as if it was their last night alive.

“If I ever forget, I would be living a life I’d never want to live.” Toya smiled at him, eyes twinkling like the moon above the crashing waves. And Akito felt his heart soar.

“Then, will you remember me forever?” Toya’s cheeks tinted red and he broke away from his gaze. “I’d give my last breath to the thought of you.”

And Akito wished his existence didn’t matter so much. When the pain would come back, it would be impossible to stop.

“Akito, please, tell us where this all started for you.” His parents were talking to him. His chest tightened. Hold my heart up in the air and squeeze it in front of the crowd.

And it felt like the sky was falling.

“Do you promise?” Ena’s voice was quiet under the stars. They both laid on her rug, in the pitch dark of her room. Their hands were still sticky with the adhesive of the glowing stars they handed to their parents to plaster to the ceiling.

A loose star fell onto Akito’s face, and Ena giggled at the noise he made when it poked him. Akito was braiding Ena’s hair into her signature mini-twist, and she was drawing a sun on her hand in sharpie.

Do you promise to never leave me behind?

“I promise.” Akito swore he would never break the promises he made for Ena.

 

“Will you ever put an end to this?” Their words continued to fall on deaf ears. His eyesight became blurry. And when our hearts slow down in death, never mourn this love.

And this love was never meant to last.

“Oh my God– Akito, come look!” An shrieked, her voice carrying against the quiet WEEKEND GARAGE. She held her phone up to Akito’s face as he walked over, and his jaw became just as slack as hers.

“One million views… What the fuck…?” he yelled, and Toya and Kohane came rushing over at the same time. An shoved the screen into their view as well.

CINEMA - VBS MV
1,000,394 views ━▼ comments (1,068)

“A t-thousand comments?” Kohane squeaked out in utter shock. “I swear we’ve peaked– how is it at a million views??” An screamed out.

“This was your song, Akito. You achieved this, partner,” Toya whispered to him as the other girls started yelling for Ken to come see.

“We did this all together. I couldn’t have done it without a single one of you,” Akito responded, because to steal this pride and love from them would be like stealing their lives. They worked for this too. These were the dreams that they shared. Their passion burned brighter than any flame.

“This was all of us, Toya.” And Akito could have died happy in that tiny moment in his life. Because death could not have taken away his love. He would never regret this love, because to love was to breathe, and to love was to live.

And Akito loved. How was he ever supposed to stop living?

 

“Let us help fix the things that are wrong.” What’s wrong with me? He could feel himself trembling. This is not my only reason to breathe.

But what did this world mean if everything was forever?

“Do you see this, Akito?” Toya’s words were shouts and his smile shined brighter than the stars. The field they were running in was completely empty apart from them. Toya ran through the grass, hands scraping the tall grass because he was alive, and Akito chased after him. 

The blue nemophila flowers were the same colour as Toya’s hair, and Akito plucked the kindest of them to tuck behind his partner’s ears.

“You’re beautiful, Toya!” His thumb grazed the mole under his eye, and when they shouted the lyrics to life they had written, his heart sang louder than any other words he’d ever utter in his existence.

And he would never forget this for as long as he lived. But didn’t it go beyond that?

 

“It’s not too late to fix this. Till the day that we die, it will never be too late.” And I swear, your shouts reach me.

Till the day that we die, when our breaths meet our death and our souls are scattered into the grounds, and our life preserves the soil and our life is felt anew and our life finds its meaning but our meaning was always permanent,

because we only live once.

“Toya, I think this is it! It sounds incredible.” Akito didn’t get it. “I’m sick of this, Akito! I’m sick of you acting like it’s all the same!” Akito didn’t get it. “That kid’s dreams are too big for him to handle.” Akito didn’t get it. “Is that really your only defence?” Akito didn’t get it. “I love you, Akito.” Akito didn’t get it. “You were amazing up there, kid.” Akito didn’t get it. “You’re the glue that holds us together.” Akito didn’t get it. “Will somebody just kill me? Please, please, God, please–” Akito didn’t get it. “You can’t forgive a kid who has no remorse for his actions!” Akito didn’t get it. “Hey, Ena. Do you ever wish we were kids again?” Akito didn’t get it. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Let it stop, please, let this stop.” Akito didn’t get it. “I’m allowed to live.” Akito didn’t get it. “Can you promise to do your best to help Ena? You’re the only person I can ask this of.” Akito didn’t get it. “Ignoring it doesn’t help anybody, let alone yourself.” Akito didn’t get it. “We all just want to help, you know?” Akito didn’t get it. “I love you, Ena.” Akito didn’t get it. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Akito didn’t get it. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Akito didn’t get it. “I should be dead by now.” Akito didn’t get it. "Would you like something bitter to ease your mind?” Akito didn’t get it. “Kids, pose in front of your drawing! I wanna take a picture. Make it last forever.” Akito didn’t get it. “You never fucking change!” Akito didn’t get it. “Just stop, already. Give it up, Akito…” Akito didn’t get it. “Thank you, Toya.” Akito didn’t get it. “You’re selfless, Kanade. Why not give you what you’ve been deprived of for years?” Akito didn’t get it. “It’s hard to see you as my son now.” Akito didn’t get it. “When are you going to look for something beyond these streets?” Akito didn’t get it. “This can’t be the only thing you live for.” Akito didn’t get it. “I’ve never seen someone as dedicated as you, partner!” Akito didn’t get it. “This world doesn’t slow down for you. Catch up, or you’ll end up living for nothing.” Akito didn’t get it. “Our hearts are all connected the second we share a stage.” Akito didn’t get it. “Happy twelfth birthday, Akito!” Akito didn’t get it. “Do you think it’d feel nice to be dead?” Akito didn’t get it. “It hurts so much.” Akito didn’t get it. “How could you have fallen so low?” Akito didn’t get it. “This was all my fault.” Akito didn’t get it. “When did you stop caring about everything?” Akito didn’t get it. “I would like to live.” Akito didn’t get it. “How long have you been thinking of that?” Akito didn’t get it. “We can’t fix what’s wrong if we do not all embrace change.” Akito didn’t get it. “Get up from the floor, kid.” Akito didn’t get it. “This is all for you.” Akito didn’t get it.

He’d lived his life. These thousands of memories– he promised he wouldn’t forget them. This was supposed to be it. He was supposed to die as he cherished them.

“We want to help you live beyond this,” Kanako whispered to her son as she held his hand beside the bed.

Akito didn’t get it.

One day it would all stop.

Akito cried to the stars, to the bird in the window, to the flame in his chest, to the box of his canvases in Ena’s room, to the letters on his desk with names etched into them, to the scattered photo albums on his floors, to the paintings on his living room walls, to the scratched CDs on his shelves, to the trophies that have collected dust over years of hiding– he cried, because his heart didn’t know how else to feel about this. I should be dead.

Breathe in this world. You only live once. My time is up. But wasn’t it all forever?

He couldn’t live. It was too much.

“Get out,” he sobbed and shook and screamed to his parents. This world was not made for someone like me to exist in. Let it go.

Because their love was something worth living for.

And Akito’s love was something worth dying for.

|

“I’ve been getting scared before I check on you every day, Akito,” Ena whispered to him as she wiped the water from her clean hands onto her skirt. He laid down on her pink rug, body slack against the carpet and staring up at the green on the ceiling– the white stuffed heavily around his limbs were stark against the tiny slivers of pale skin still visible. His bones were more prominent than before, and Ena shivered at the thought of the hunger that must have gnawed his very being.

“Why is that…?” His words were slightly incoherent, like his mouth was misshapen as he spoke. Ena turned to look at him. He was clearly out of it, whether it was from exhaustion or alcohol. How many years had he been living like this? Drifting in and out of consciousness, staying up so late or sleeping through the entire day like there was nothing else to do. How many breaths had been spent simply staring at nothing? How had he been living like this?

She was afraid he’d get bored of it soon.

“Would you ever kill yourself?” Would you ever leave me behind? Would you break our promise?

She saw the pupils in his eyes knock into focus and he swallowed the spit pooling in his mouth before he started shaking his head.

“It sounds a bit scary, doesn’t it?” his voice was higher pitched than usual. More polite, gentler, like he was trying to convince her of something that he didn’t believe in.

And she accepted his answer, because the alternative was much more terrifying.

And if she had bothered to spend more than a few hours around him in these last years, she would’ve immediately known the answer to her question.

She would have realised that, years ago, she had been the one to break their promise.

|

“...there has been some significant nerve damage, but a majority of it has already been dealt with in surgery. Physical therapy is the best option moving forward, but we’ll have to wait until the stitches are gone. We’ll be able to remove the wrappings in a few days, but we’re currently uncertain how deep the infections went. The compression and coverage is preventing further festering of bacteria,” Takahashi-sensei said as she checked her chart without even looking up at him.

“And the stitches? Will those be gone soon?” His mom asked as she eyed the shorter doctor from where she stood on the right side of his bed. Her hand was placed gently on Akito’s shoulder– it had been there for so long that it itched. (his hospital garb had especially short sleeves so that the medical grade gauze could wrap up to his shoulders and past his biceps. her hand lay above his joints, and he swore she could bury her nails into his skin and even the slightest touch would make him bleed again.) Everything else felt like nothing. Isn’t this all the same? Whether he laid in this bed, or his bed, it would always stay the same.

It was only him, his mother, and the same doctor from before in the room. He didn’t have much to hide at this point. “The sutures used around the minor incision points are dissolvable and should take upwards of eight weeks to lose visibility. As of right now, the non-dissolvable sutures are standing in at the major points. We still need to watch how the skin heals to determine if a skin graft is necessary. If not, we will replace them with dissolvable sutures.”

His mom asked again, “Where do you typically graft skin from?” Takahashi-sensei looked up this time, dead in her eyes, and said, “Usually it’s the inner thighs, but Shinonome-kun does not have enough clear skin present to source it from there.” 

“How do you know that?” He asked this time, breaking the silence from his dry throat. She smiled gently at him. he wanted to hide. “In order to get you out of your bloodied clothes, our nurses had to undress you. You’re lucky we did, because there could have been major infections on your legs if left alone any longer.” The rot would have set in if he waited any bit longer. Wouldn’t that be the ideal scenario?

“So where will you take it from if I need one?” Had he desecreated enough skin to be completely unsalvageable? Had he bled enough? Could he stop, now? “It truly depends on the severity. You most likely will not need one, but there are many other options if you do.”

“But, grafts aside, the tests we ran have come back with some results. You showed multiple signs of low cholesterol, and by proxy, anemia. Both are very treatable, and I’ve prescribed you some medication that will take a few months to show full effect. I’ve already approached your nurses about adjusting your meals to fit a more specific diet.” His mom was quiet as she listened to all of the medical terms being spewed out. His mother wasn’t dumb, she knew how these conditions originated, but after a quick glance Akito could tell that she was still afraid to confront it.

And Akito had accepted it by now. Live until the time comes to die again. It was all the same, anyways. Nothing could change it now.

“Does this mean more or less soup?” he tried to joke, because he had nothing else if not the shitty words filling in the gaps in his head. “Less, luckily. We’re hoping to get more solids in you, but it’s a slow process so that your stomach doesn’t reject the food you consume. It’s a good sign that you haven’t been getting sick as you eat, but we still have to be cautious with the pace we progress at. Aside from that, there aren’t any other pressing issues.” This entire discussion, Takahashi-sensei had appeared distant, opposite to the gentleness and fragility she treated him with prior. It made sense. He wouldn’t be happy to be around him, either.

“Is there anything else?” his mom asked, seeking an answer to be alone with him sooner than later. Takahashi smiled at them, shaking her head and looking at him with an emotion he couldn’t place. “I believe we are all done here,” she responded and packed her things up to leave the room. “Shinonome-kun is on track to leave within the next few days. Until then, please let me or a nurse know if anything is wrong. Well, then…” she pulled open the door and started to leave with her things.

“Thank you, sensei,” his mother said, eyes twinkling into gratitude as Takahashi left. Her hand had moved from his shoulder at this point, but he still felt it ghost over him.

And she looked at him with such a feeling in her gaze that it made him shiver.

He would never stop being sorry for everything he’d caused.

“I know we’ve been fighting– for good reason, but I still wanted to say sorry, Akito. Shinei and I are still trying to figure everything out.”

No matter the lives they lived, no matter the family they reinstated, no matter the lies they fed to hide from everything, the world could not be covered up. And it would never change his past. Where had it gone?

“You don’t have to worry, Mom,” he whispered beneath his breath.

The world was not his. But it would not matter, either way.

She continued to mutter words into his ears as she held him, her only boy, and it may have lasted for a millennia, but he wasn’t sure he could tell the difference.

|

“Are you happy? Is this everything you wanted and more?” His father asked as he walked into his room. Akito was sweating and panting, music blasting through the earbuds that kept slipping from his ear. His sleeves were rolled down and sweat weeped beneath them, but he couldn’t roll them up.

“Get out. I’m practising,” he said with his hands on his knees to take a break. I can’t stop now. Nothing can get in the way of this.

“You’ve been doing this for a year, and this is all you have to show for it?” Isn’t this better than the alternative? Art ripped us apart. It was ironic– the beauty of creation and emotion was what stripped the same things away from the Shinonomes.

“Go away. Can’t you just let me be?” His voice was bitter. Art belongs to Ena. I’m giving it back to her, now. It’s hers. Let me be.

“You had talent with your art, what’s to show for this?” I breathe for this, I died with art.

“You’re such a hypocrite. Didn’t your dad forbid you from doing art? And you did it anyway?” He grabbed a water bottle to take a swig from it. When it's my turn to sing, I’ll hang up my brush and leave it with you. Isn’t that only fair?

Shinei stood in the light of the hallway, eyes batting from his clearly physically exhausted son to the sleeves hiking up his wrists that he quickly pulled back down.

“Will you be home tomorrow, at least?” His dad’s voice was sombre, almost pleading and Akito didn’t understand why.

“I have a show with Toya. I won’t be home until later.”

“Today is September eighth, Akito.”

“And? Our show is tomorrow– the ninth.” He’d been preparing for weeks, as Toya couldn’t perform for the last couple of months because of his father. And after Akito helped resolve it– after he did everything he could to convince the musician of another type of beauty– they were able to show the world their passion again.

But Akito missed how his father’s face fell, and how he looked at him as if he was someone he couldn’t even recognise. He turned around and left the room without another word, and Akito went back to rehearsing as if nothing ever happened, because this was his passion, right? and he had to do everything he could to thrive in it.

He was the only one in his family that year to forget his mothers birthday.

It wasn’t long before the rest followed in unlearning their love.

|

Ena came in to him crying so loud he couldn’t breathe. It only took her a second to be beside him again on the bed. “I’m so sorry,” she said like she was consoling him and protecting him from the terrors of this Earth. As if she weren’t the reason he was crumbling apart in the first place.

He’d been there for almost five days now. Sometimes the days were passive and his exhaustion weighed down more than any anchor. But sometimes it felt like he was dying all over again.

“I love you, Ena,” he broke to her as the hiccups and sobs ripped from his throat and he leaned into her shoulder. I can’t feel. I can’t feel. But I know there is love for you in my heart. I promised to remember.  “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I don’t know. I don’t get it.” 

“You don’t have to know. You never have to know.” I have to know. I have to know. I have lived this life and existed to die because I thought I knew. I thought I knew.

What is it that I’m forgetting? His soul was missing something.

“It doesn’t hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt? I want it to hurt.” The drugs pumping through his body made him feel so numb. Every emotion was empty, every touch was light, and any flicker of pain that he should’ve felt was absent. He hadn’t been without pain in years. Where had it gone?

“You don’t have to hurt anymore. We’re gonna fix this.” They didn’t understand. He had to hurt– it was everything. The pain made it easier. The pain made it easier. He missed the pain.

“I don’t want these meds, they don’t let me hurt,” his crying was fading, now, but he still felt just as weak. “I cut to my fucking bone and I can’t feel it– what was the point?” That sharp pain, the pain slicing so deep into his nerves that he swore he’d never breathe again.

The doctors said he had nerve damage and his skin would never heal back in the way it was before. They also said that he was lucky he was young, or else his slits would be much more infected and he likely would’ve died from sepsis. Akito didn’t think he was lucky.

This was the first time he’d really tried to kill himself. There had been half-assed attempts in the past, but none of them were wholehearted and he woke up again in his bed like nothing had even happened. He had tried this time, but it didn’t work because of his own stupidity. His own selfishness.

It would’ve been easier for all of them if he had sucked it up and died without Ena getting her letters. It would’ve been easier for her, too.

Ena was sitting quietly with him now, letting his words tumble out of his mouth like a drunken man with no filter. She wasn’t moving, just laying against him and half falling off the bed. But she was there. And Akito didn’t know how to get used to it.

He was sweaty, now, and his eyes were swollen and thick to the point that even blinking was heavy. But he was still numb.

Like there was nothing in his head. Like there was nothing in this life.

But hadn’t it always been that way?

If he were dead, this tire would have finally ended. And he could’ve rested. Because he had spent enough time loving in this life, and he was ready to say goodbye.

He wished he was dead. He wished he was dead.

Because this pain kept him alive, and without the pain, there was no reason for living.

How did he know he was alive if not for the pain?

He was basically dead at this point. He could lay in a hospital bed, in the one place where his life would be in minimal risk, but he would still be close to death. Some things never change.

“Why do you want me to live, Ena? I don’t understand it.” he asked her, because he could no longer trust his own ideas of life. Without this pain, what was he?

His older sister clutched his hand and Akito angled his eyes to look away from her gaze on his wrists. “I hate blood,” she murmured to him.

“I’m sorry for getting it all over your clothes. I hope it doesn’t stain,” and he meant his words, but they sounded just as empty as his heart.

“I hate blood, but I’d rather have your blood stain my clothes and skin to prove you’re alive, rather than if your blood was given to the dirt.” Ena looked into his eyes, and he felt himself squint under the pressure of her brown eyes. “But why do you need me to live?” he asked, because he was completely okay with them living without him. If he was fine with it, why weren’t they fine with it?

Ena was silent for a moment.

“After I cleaned you up the first time, I couldn’t keep any food down for a few days. Just imagining the pain was enough to make me throw up. I swear I saw your fat and muscle, and, God, it’s selfish, but I couldn’t stop crying,” and her breath was shaky again because to her, even the mere thought of it made her want to collapse.

“The way I lived was fine. The only person who got hurt was me.” I carved into my skin because there was no other way to exist. I redirected it to myself. The guilt, the exhaustion, the grief, the shitty misery. It existed beneath my skin, and all I had to do was find it in order to reset. The pain was always there. Nobody else was affected.

“But that’s the thing, Akito. You weren’t the only person who got hurt. All of us hurt when we saw you in pain. I handled it the first time, but then it happened again, and again. Would you ever want to see me like that?” If I were to see you bleeding on the floor, or in your bed, or curled up crying on the living room couch, I would join you. I would cry with you, I would bleed with you, I would die with you.

“No, but you’re you, and I’m me. You shouldn’t care about someone like me, especially after everything–”

“You can’t just keep saying that!” her voice was rising in frustration now, “Won’t you even try to see beyond it? We all want to move forward and change, and you say you don’t know why we want you to live, but we also don’t know why you want to die so much. You aren’t talking to us, and we’ve apologised and we’re begging you to just communicate!” He saw the same tears well up in her eyes, and it felt like he’d been in this moment hundreds of times over. Each a different scene, different location, but it was all the same.

It’s the same thought over and over again.

I could live, but what would any of it be for? Once I’m out of school, out of this city, maybe, what will I be? My talents aren’t good enough to thrive, I’m too lazy and behind in school to even think about recovering my grades, and I physically cannot produce anything of value.

He was supposed to die. It was supposed to stop, and he yielded before the light turned red.

Only a few people would grieve. But they would move on eventually. His life was never meant to be a lasting one. Sometimes there was more beauty in the fleeting than in the permanent.

“I’m just so tired, Ena. You’re asking me to try to get better, but have you ever considered that I might not want that? This has been my life for ages, and not once have I needed your help. Don’t you get it?”

Suicide was his only option, whether they wanted to believe it or not. He was too far gone, and he couldn’t just undo everything. He liked the numbness that came with pain, or isolation, and even if he loved this world, and loved these people, and loved these things, nothing could change it.

“You can’t just start caring. Not now.” I can’t just start caring.

The room was silent again, but the void was broken by the sharp intake of breath from his older sister’s mouth. “That’s not fair. How could that be all that determines this?” You begged me to talk, and I begged you to stop. But yet,

“So please, even if it’s just this once, let me help.”

“When you fell into me and your blood got on everything, I just wanted to scream. Do you know why?” Do you know why I screamed?

“Do you promise to never leave me behind?”

“Did all of those memories mean nothing to you? Will you ever let things change?” Ena’s voice was distant now, as if she already knew the answers to her questions and there was no use dedicating any more energy to them. She was just speaking out now, and her words fell flat against the world.

“We’re all here for you, Akito. You just have to let us know we’re allowed inside your heart, first.”

But it didn’t matter. Akito shut up. It could stop now.

His heart grew too heavy to acknowledge Ena’s parting words as he rolled back over on the bed to ignore her existence.

Nothing has changed.

But he could at least act like it had.

|

There was a knock on the door when he was in the middle of counting the threads in the comforter in sheer boredom. He tilted his head up to stare at her. “Akito Shinonome? Am I in the right room? Takahashi-sensei asked me to come meet you,” a black-haired woman holding a clipboard said. “You’re at the right place…” Akito said to her, his gaze unmoving from her body.

She had a big smile on her face and she walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. “Wonderful! My name is Hashimoto, and I’m a psychologist. I’m going to ask you a few basic questions to see what we can do to help you move forward.” She took a seat at the chair beside his bed, and she snapped into position as if this was her billionth time speaking to a patient. She looked warmly at him, “I understand you’re in a rough spot right now, and some things may seem really unapproachable, but my job is to do everything I can to make this easier on you.”

It was her job. She was paid to do it. None of this would ever be personal. He would wait for the day that it was.

“I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” he asked, because even if it was stupid, it would be nicer to know his options and make this as minimally painful to get through as possible.

She smiled back in a way that was almost like a grimace. “Unfortunately, as you are a minor, you cannot deny this treatment since it falls under medical provisions and healthcare. However, you don’t have to elaborate further in any sections that I do not ask you to. I highly encourage it, but you are not forced to.”

He remained silent in acceptance, and she took that as a sign to move forward. “Well, Shinonome-san, to start us off, how are you physically feeling today? Any pain or nausea?” He didn’t feel anything.

“I could be better. My head feels… weird.” But when did it ever feel normal? She wrote down what he said, but she also looked to be writing some other notes that he couldn’t see.

“When you were first admitted a few days ago, your doctors prescribed you a lighter mood stabiliser called trazodone. Since you’ve been taking it daily since then, have you experienced any noticeable emotional changes? Anything you wouldn’t associate with your daily self?”

“It all feels like nothing.”

“And is that any different from what you previously felt?”

He didn’t know. Get me out of here, and I will scream out your name in thanks,

“I… I can’t remember. I think there used to be more pain, though.”

But wasn’t the pain all he could remember?

What could he even trust anymore? It all felt like nothing,

but the weirdest thing was that the nothing felt like everything.

What was he missing?

She kept writing with her pen, the sharp pen, and Akito wondered how much force he’d need to use with it before he felt pain again. “Before your attempt, I heard that you spent a lot of time alone at home. Do you know if there was a specific reason behind your reclusiveness?”

A reason behind it? Did he truly need a reason beyond the utter void that a presence in  society sucked him into? He hid because it was easier for everyone else.

The days floated into weeks, and he was kept alive for a lot longer than he intended.

And he didn’t mean to cause all of this mess.

Toya was the most beautiful soul Akito had ever met. And he didn’t mean to drag him so far deep into this.

“I love you, Akito. But I hope you recognize how much your life changes others’.”

He hated it when they cried because of him. It was a disservice to themselves and their own strengths. 

“An, I can’t let go.” She rubbed her hand around his head, shushing him to quiet his cries, but hers were even louder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll help you get rid of this pain.”

To cry over someone like him was to cry over the scum under their shoes.

“Akito– please stay with me, oh my god, please,” Ena was trying to take her bedsheets and tie them around his bleeding and disgustingly mangled wrists. She was crying. She was crying a lot. Her shoulders were shaking with tight sobs.

He didn’t remember, but he remembered how he whispered in her ears that he loved her. And he would never stop. He didn’t remember, but he remembered their promise. He’d broken it, by now.

“Oh my go-god. Stop saying that, Akito. Don’t say that. You don’t have to s-say that, I already k-know.” Ena sobbed out. Her words weren’t coming through in coherent words, but Akito still knew what she was saying. His head felt like a hammer was banging on it every second. 

“I stayed inside so they wouldn't have to put up with me. I stayed inside because it was less tiring, I think…” He thought, at least, because he didn’t know what to think anymore. He was out, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here, the time was up, did you hear the alarms sounding?

None of this ever made sense. It was like a chunk of his soul, his memories, his drive, his everything had been stripped from him.

What Was This?

She kept writing, as if his sayings were nothing in the end of this all. Just some boxes to fill. “If you were on the current medications you were now, do you think you would have been willing to go outside more? Would you have changed anything about how you lived?”

Would he have changed anything about how he lived?

Hadn’t he spent enough time regretting?

“I think I would’ve killed myself sooner.”

But, it didn’t matter anymore.

It was already gone.

I have always said that this was for the best. Don't you hear it sing, too?