Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cold sweat trickled down his neck, back pressed against cool metal. Breathing was a tasking affair, trembling out in white puffs, making way too much sound with its fight to get out. Saliva was pooling at the base of his throat with every shallow breath, further working to put him on edge he tugged on his brown hair, reaching for the small clip he had used to comb it back, and dropping the gun he held to hang by his side. 

He didn’t have time to swallow down his doubts- fear?- before the door to the room busted open, shards of glass splaying across the room generously. The new-found burst of light that accompanied the break-in assaulted his eyes, the screams from the grand ballroom amplifying, with the shelter the door provided being gone, as if in protest to his actions. 

BANG!

“Shit,” he mumbled, switching craftily to the other side. If he had been just a millisecond slower- if he had been just an inch higher -

Focus, he chastised himself, trying to slow his rapid breathing. He gripped his gun between two hands with renewed force. He squared his shoulders, glancing out the corner of his eye as he shot back, retreating just as quickly. 

“Hah, same, old Tooru, huh?” a voice sarcastically crooned from the front, their laugh grating on his ears as their steps thudded loud against the marble floor, “Never were the best shot.”

“Shut up,” Tooru snapped, immediately regretting it. He cursed himself under his breath, attempting to run behind a different pole for shelter, only to back up when another shot flew in his way. 

Goddamit, he had just given away his location and for what? To defend his stupid, worthless pride? 

Same old Tooru

He breathed out a humorless laugh, fighting back the tears that were desperately trying to make their way out. They were right, he was the same, old Tooru , easy to predict, easy to rile up. Easy to play into their hands.

“Give it up, Tooru! You’re cornered!” they yelled from the front, firing shots at the roof as he belted out malicious laughter, Tooru wincing at the harsh bangs . Even still, he stood his ground, gritting his teeth. 

“Never,” he screamed back, his voice wavering despite his efforts to keep it still, grimacing as he knew they would interpret it as doubt. Sure, he was scared, he could admit that (to himself, not out loud) but he was also stubborn as hell. He was standing his ground or dying as he tried to, dammit . 

“Are you sure ab-” 

He never got to finish his sentence as another bang ran out in the relatively empty room. Tooru gripped his gun tightly in response, eyes narrowing at the sound. His shoes slicked with the blood that trickled below, his pursuer apparently having been closer to him that he’d earlier suspected. He was suddenly very grateful to the shooter, knowing he’d have been dead if it hadn’t been for them. 

Who was that, anyway?

He jumped out of hiding, gun raised between his hands as his eyes swept the room with a glare. The glare dropped, however, in favor of widened eyes when honey brown met forest green, a green he hadn’t seen since-

“Get off, dumbass!” a gruff voice had grumped, pouting as Tooru had refused to nudge from his place on the sole swing on the playground, “It’s my turn!” 

“No, it isn’t! I’ve only been here for a second!” Tooru had protested, gripping the metal chains tightly even as they burned through his hands, warmed by the glaring sun. He had pouted back even as golden brown hands, as chubby as his own, had come up to cover the hands holding the swing and tugged. 

Both as stubborn as the other, the tugging did not pull Tooru off the swing with his weight pushing down on the seat, instead sending the swing up, up, up with the other’s strong pull. 

Tooru gasped as he rose off the ground, almost touching the small leaves at the top. He felt as though he had been floating, suspended in the air for a still moment. He had looked down, searching for the eyes of his best friend, smiling as he watched the sun shone on his dark brown hair, filtering through the gaps in between threads of leaves, the widest smile on his face. 

He giggled as he came down just as fast, the soft sound turning into a yelp as the swing used the momentum to toss him off and into the pile of hot sand below. 

He had whined and gradually been comforted after the other had gotten the laughter out of his system. They had walked home together, hand in hand, their identical grins refusing to wash off even as Tooru’s mother called out for him in concern, seeing his busted knees and sand covered hair. 

“Tooru!” She had called. 

But that wasn’t right, Tooru’s face crinkled in confusion, her voice wasn’t so harsh. Why-

“Tooru!” 

He startled out of his daydream- memory?- and snapped back to meet the eyes that were looking right back at him. 

“Come on, we need to go,” he urged when he was sure Tooru was conscious again, tugging on his hand in that oh-so-familiar way that haunted Tooru’s dreams, memories and every waking moment. The way that would never let him rest from longing. Longing to see his best friend once again- 

He stopped abruptly, looking up at exhausted eyes. 

How was this possible? How was he here? He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He hadn’t seen the other man since he’d left. He’d never thought he would see him again. 

He wasn’t supposed to see him again. 

He pulled his hand out of the other man’s grip, flinching when it was grabbed again, more urgently this time. 

“Hajime-” he started.

“We need to go,” Hajime cut him off, face stern even if his eyes softened, “Please, Tooru, I promise I’ll explain later but we need to go. Now .”

And who was he if not weak for his best friend? He had trusted him with his life before and he’d do it again. Even if he hadn’t seen said man for 12 years. 

With his resolve strengthened, he squeezed the hand of his best friend- could he even call him that, anymore? - nodding firmly. Hajime’s lips curled upwards for a split second seeing the determination in his friend’s eyes, before it disappeared as soon as it appeared. Looking at each other once more, they gripped their respective guns in the hands that weren’t intertwined. 

Linked, they started their run into the hallway.

Chapter Text

Hajime had not expected his reunion with his childhood best friend to go down as it did. 

Well, sure, he had known he was walking into a hotel where the most dangerous people were set to meet, talk and celebrate their “accomplishments”. He had strapped a metal gun to his waist, dressed to the nines as best he could, even slicked back his hair and slid on his gold studs to look the part. 

Sure, he had walked through the sound of gunshots, killed a person to protect the best friend he hadn’t seen in years but, truthfully , he had hoped to have time for a more heartwarming reunion. 

Which was funny seeing as he was the one to rush them both out in the first place. 

Now, walking through the dimly lit hallways, courtesy of the last few lights that weren’t shattered on the ground during the exchanging of shots, he wished he had stayed in that room with Tooru, just for a bit longer. 

He narrowly avoided slipping on a pool of blood on the floor, flinching at the dead body that it was probably seeping out of. With basically the entire hallways being covered in blood and bodies, it was hard to be completely sure. 

Behind his eyes, an image of a sullen face and bloodshot eyes tore through his mind unwillingly, making him flinch strongly. Yes, he had taken a life without hesitation for his best friend but that didn’t mean it hadn’t affected him. The action was thoroughly carried out through adrenaline and adrenaline only, the regret only seeping into his bones and making his hands tremble as he made his way out. 

His first life.

The first life he’d-

“Hey-” a voice broke him out of his heavy breaths- Tooru , he registered faintly- “You okay, there?”

Hajime swallowed down the growing lump in his throat, using the time to clench his fist and steel his resolve. Not yet, Hajime. Get to the car and then freak out.  

“Yeah,” he replied half-heartedly, releasing and then gripping his gun again in quick succession, if only to have something to do. He nodded as if to reassure- himself or Tooru, he had no idea. Before he could be faced with the brunette’s concerned questioning yet again, he walks on, twisting himself so as to swerve himself around the blood and bodies, tiptoeing over the slippery parts. 

He heard voices and immediately leaned into the back wall, in the direction of the voices so as to be out of their line of sight. He watched Tooru follow his actions, his movements noticeably stiffer than before.

Hajime was not dumb enough to risk giving up their locations with a concerned whisper so he just settled for catching the other’s eye, rasing an eyebrow in question. Tooru just shrugged unconvincingly, causing Hajime’s concern to increase tenfold. He decided to just drop it for now as he heard the two voices get closer. 

“- got out! He might need help, we can’t just-!” a frantic, high pitched voice broke through first, reaching the two men clearly. The voice sounded worried- scared, even- but most of all it sounded determined. Hajime heard an intake of breath from beside him but didn’t turn to investigate, trusting that Tooru knew what he was doing. He simply reached out to grab the other’s hand firmly in his grip and give it a reassuring squeeze as the voice continued to ramble out nonsense, smiling when Tooru eventually squeezed back. 

“Hitoka,” a sharp voice interrupted. It was a different voice, probably the companion of the first guessing by the lack of horrifics, deeper than the first but undoubtedly female, still. The voice had softened by the time it spoke again, as if trying to calm a wounded animal, “He will be okay. We just have to trust him.”

No response was heard from the other as the steps got closer and closer. Their shoes clacked against the floor, the sounds deafening in the deadly silent hallway, getting louder and louder then softer and softer as they walked away. Suddenly, the sound of soft sniffling filled the hallway, causing Hajime to press his back against the cold wall in caution. Had they come back? he worried, turning to Tooru so they could get ready to run if need be. 

He was not ready for what he was faced with, though.

Tooru’s face was blotchy and red and to anyone who wasn’t Hajime or his own family, they’d think he was dying. But Hajime was Hajime so he knew it was just Tooru’s default face when he was crying. 

Tooru was an ugly crier when he really cried, not the sparkly tears he shed in front of his fans or parents to get what he wanted, his real, bawling on the floor type of crying. 12 years ago, he could’ve confidently said he was the only one who had seen that side of him. 

Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

It didn’t matter anyway, there was a reason Hajime was always quick to scold, hit or appease (the lesser used option) Tooru the moment he started crying. It was the simple fact that Hajime hated seeing him cry, hated the raw pain that flashed across his face, hated the fact that the world was so cruel to such a genuinely nice person. 

12 years later or no, that fact, at least, had remained the same. 

He reached out, cupping Tooru’s face softly as he tried to get the other to look him in the eye, all notions of hiding thrown out his mind. 

“Hey, Tooru, what’s wrong?-” 

Gunshots filled the air. 

Both men flinched in response, grabbing the sides of their guns on instinct. It seemed like, even with all the years that had passed, the two were as in sync as ever.

Tooru didn’t even bother wiping his tears, he let them dry slowly on his face as he focused on clicking the safety off his gun when he noted, with a curse, that it was empty. 

“Hey,” he whispered to Hajime cautiously, “Cover me, my gun’s empty.” 

“Shit- do you want mine?” Hajime offered, moving in front of Tooru, “You’re probably better at this, anyway-” 

Hajime, once again, was interrupted by gunshots, this time closer than before. 

“Keep it! Just- I don’t know! SHOOT!” he whisper-shouted back, flinging his hands in over exaggerated motions, unable to keep still. 

Don’t get him wrong, Tooru was a great gunsman, one of the best even, if he did say so himself. He’d honed his skills and practiced them meticulously during his time here so, no, he didn’t reject the offer because he thought he couldn’t handle the gun, he could. It was the simple fact that he didn’t want to.

That choice turned out to be a mistake, however, as Hajime, as inexperienced with a gun as he was, followed Tooru’s advice a little too literally and shot with the gun. Quite a few times, too, and completely off target to anything useful. 

“Are you dumb ? You just gave away our location!” Tooru hissed under his breath, having to harshly pull the other’s arm to put a stop to what was, undoubtedly, his form of stress induced panic shooting. 

“You told me to shoot ! I shot!” Hajime yelped, looking back at Tooru with panic ridden eyes, flexing his hands in nervous twitches. 

“You dumb fuck-”

A gunshot. 

Embedded right beside them, this time. It cleanly cut their conversation- argument? Bickering?- short, causing their heads to snap to the front where they were met with two identical faces, conniving as can be. Twins , Hajime guessed, the timing synced with that of Tooru’s groan of frustration. 

“Won’tcha look what the cat dragged in,” the blonde of the pair drawled, leaning forward as their counterpart just smirked, “ ‘S good ta see ya, To-kun!” 

‘To-kun’ Hajime mouthed incredulously half-shocked, half-disgusted, startling when another shot rang out. These people and their guns, Hajime swore, flinching when the bullet ran right past him.

“The fuck’s wrong with yer aim?” a man with a deeper voice spoke up, his gray hair parted the opposite way, “If yer gonna shoot ‘im, shoot ‘im, coward. Stop wastin’ the bullets.”

“Stap wastin’ yer fuckin’ breath, ya srucb-” the other retorted, raising his gun and waving it around carelessly as if to say ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want’. 

The other, understandably, was not impressed, the two getting into a heated argument about everything and anything from their gun prowess to how much they had just stolen from the dining table, going as far as to physically tussle on the floor.  

Hajime wasn’t paying attention, not really, he was more intent on finding a way out of their situation and, sneaking a quick glance, it looked as though Tooru was thinking the same thing. It was like no years had passed when they locked eyes, a plan forming and passing through eye contact only. 

It felt like they moved in slow motion, Hajime bending on one knee to get a better angle as Tooru directed the gun. One shot and the light nearest to them was out, successfully distracting their pursuers. It was a strategic move as their pursuers were the ones in the dark, just then, while the light on their side was working, making it easier for them to see their path as they set off on a sprint. 

The hallway wasn’t too wide so it wasn’t really a surprise when, despite being completely shrouded in darkness, one of the twins grabbed Tooru’s arm as he attempted to lead them out of the building. Hajime’s head bumped into his shoulder and he dropped his gun, the sound of metal on the marble floor mixing with Tooru’s gasp of surprise at the grip, trying to wiggle free. 

“Go, Hajime!” he tried to tell the other when the struggle seemed futile, screaming it out since he had no idea where the other was in the dark. Hajime tsked, annoyed as he felt around for his dropped gun. Grinning when he made contact with cool metal, he wrapped his fingers around the body of the gun, feeling for the trigger in the dark as he stood up. 

“Like hell, I’m gonna leave you,” Hajime yelled back, shooting in the direction he guessed the other twin was in. As the grip on his wrist slackened just the slightest bit due to surprise, Tooru wretched his hand free, getting ready to knee the other just for kicks when he heard more than saw Hajime get to it just split a second before he could. 

He grinned when he felt someone’s hand wrap around his, tightening the grip before taking off in a sprint down the hallways. The building was like a maze, really, with all its twists and turns, but it was a lot more fun now that they’d gotten out of the heavily impacted parts, filled with blood and bodies of people he’d seen before but couldn’t name. 

The pair even found themselves giggling quietly when they’d seen the grande double doors that would stand as their ticket to freedom, their soft giggles turning into belly rumbling laughter as they made a mad dash under the setting sun, bloodied, ripped clothes and all. 

Hajime took the lead then, leading them far, far away from the scene of crime and into a more deserted area of town. He weaved expertly through the neighborhoods and local landmarks, stopping to look around every now and then. Cautious, even as laughter still ran through him. 

At a certain checkmark, he ducked under a lopsided sign and around a cracking pillar, reaching an old, beaten car. 

Tooru, with the time he had spent in sketchy business, had always experienced the kind of life you get with black money. Loads of it. He’d always gotten the latest cars with the loudest engines and the flashiest seals. That was what his life was like, that was what was expected of him. You had to look rich to get the best deals, anything lower wouldn’t cut it. 

Seeing Hajime’s car in all its one-broken-headlight glory made Tooru’s chest warm in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time ( and god if he wasn’t feeling a lot of new things tonight ). As he let his fingertips run across the hood of the car, felt the bumps where the paint job was peeling off, Tooru smiled, because this car was a car that felt as though it truly belonged to someone. Was truly well-loved. There were no appearances with this car ( the only appearance it could make on a deal was a bad one ), it was the most honest form of ownership that he had ever seen. 

God , Tooru cringed at himself, all this over a damned car . 

As he got in, he took time to appreciate the interior, not that there was that much to appreciate. Much like the outside, the cover of the seats were slowly peeling off, the fake leather curling in on itself in parts. As he ran his fingers across the dusty dashboard, felt his hair get tousled by the passing wind, he felt Hajime make his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and turning on the ignition. 

Suddenly, the mood felt too serious. 

“So, what happened?”

Tooru swallowed.

He knew what the other was asking, he just didn’t really want to answer that question. That much was obvious, ( to Hajime at leas t) but some things needed to be said. Hajime knew he wasn’t going to get them that easily, though, as he watched the brunette plaster on a smile, running a hand through his hair as he locked his seatbelt in place, slipping the diagonal one over his head and behind him (“It’s so uncomfortable, Iwa-chan!”) .

“We just ran for our lives, Iwa-chan!” he exclaimed, the old nickname slipping out like silk against skin, “That was awesome, by the way, where did you learn to do that?- I mean, gosh -”

Tooru laughed nervously, ignoring the pointed side glances Hajime threw his way. He gripped the gear, pulling it down to reverse and reaching an arm to grip the side of Tooru’s seat as he pressed the accelerator and moved the car backwards. Suddenly, his face was all too close, evading any sort of personal space as his neck tilted towards the back, watching the car’s reverse. 

Tooru had already trailed off, pausing his rant, but he positively lost his breath when abruptly, those eyes came to meet his own, determined and just a little pissed off. 

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Tooru,” Hajime interrupted ternsly, stopping his friend’s ramblings in their tracks.

“What, not even a breather? At least take me out to dinner if you want my whole life’s story!” He tried to joke. 

It didn’t work, Hajime just glared.

Tooru inhaled shakily, exhaling heavily.

“You remember that curly haired boy in our second year, right?” Tooru asked, waiting for Hajime’s nod of affirmation before continuing, “Well…”

Chapter Text

Nakamura Hikaru had been a second year when he had joined their high school, Aoba Johsai, same as the pair. He had always been a bit weird to them though neither of them thought anything of it, being reasonably friendly to the man whenever they interacted. 

Neither had a problem with him until he started acting out. 

Drugs were fine, okay. It was a surprise, of course, with their entire grade- if not school- being relatively well behaved. It didn’t really change much, seeing him do drugs just convinced them to stay away from him, it hadn’t really caused any resentment. What he had done later, though, was a different story altogether. 

It had been a normal day, starting out, the clouds not at all as gray and foreboding as they were said to be on ominous days, in stories. Tooru had got dressed, had a filling breakfast, and raced to morning practice with Hajime in tow. He had even won their little race and got the privilege to make the other promise to answer and obey all his commands for the next week following. 

It was a shame they’d never gotten to play out that promise. 

Starting the first class that day was when Tooru had first felt something off. It was a gut feeling, call it instinct, that screamed at him to do something, to run. Problem was; he didn’t know where to go, what to do. Which places would he avoid? What was he evading? 

He had no idea, therefore, no choice but to stay put and push the uneasy feelings down. He avoided any major incidents during the day, his only slip ups being because he had been too distracted by his agitation to notice much of his surroundings. The day didn’t go badly, all things considered, until afternoon practice. 

Hajime had been noticeably stiffer, more tense and alert, during it all. Seeing his unrest made his own feel a little less since he had found a weird sense of solidarity in their shared anxiety. No matter how many times he had tried to talk to the other about it, he had been pushed away, the matter brushed off. It all came to a head when they were changing in the locker rooms and Hajime had turned to him, perfectly composed all of a sudden, and said; 

“You walk home without me, today. I’ve got something to do.” 

Something to do? What did that mean? Tooru had wondered the same thoughts, over and over again as he pulled his slightly less sweaty t-shirt on, slinging his bag across his form. He had thought that as he watched his friend’s back, retreating into one of the school’s hallways that were now quite dark since, by the time their practice had finished, the sun was set and the school was mostly closed. 

It was what he thought about, over and over again, as he watched the seldom patches of warm orange in the sky, drifting and mixing with the other, darker, patches of blue, purple and pink. As orange turned to pink, to bruised purples and blues. 

It was what he was thinking of (quite intensely, too) when he had bumped head-first into a pole, the otherwise normal impact, causing him to land on his bottom as he was caught off guard. He threw his head back in pain, turning to the side and hoping the movements would soothe the throbbing pain he felt there. 

All complaints and thoughts stopped, though, when- in the dark alley just across- he spotted a girl slumped against the wall, head against her knees. 

Tooru didn’t really know what had happened to her. She could’ve, for all he knew, simply fallen asleep there. Something in Tooru’s gut, though, told him it was more serious, told him to go help her or at least run the fuck away instead of staring like a loser-

He got up. 

His footsteps were annoyingly loud in the quiet of the street as he walked towards the girl. His steps were slow at first, so as to make as little noise as possible, but quickened when he saw the girl’s face. 

This was no stranger, this was a girl he knew. 

A girl from school who was in around three or four of his classes. They didn’t really have the same interests or talk much, really, but he knew she was sweet just from the limited times they had actually interacted. She was the type of person who’d just easily notice you’d left your pencil case at home (like the dumbass that he was) and offer you a pencil and a cute little strawberry eraser without any questions asked. 

Her name was something like Amari- Akari?- he didn’t really know. He didn’t really care either (which he kind of felt bad about, looking back) right that moment, he just needed to get closer to her, find out why she was here. 

He crouched down, ignoring the twinge that ran through his knee at its contact with the gravel below, and moved a hand under her neck and then to her wrist, checking for a pulse. Sighing in relief when he felt a muted, but steady beat, he dropped his hand as his shoulders sagged. 

It wasn’t over, his gut told him. 

He looked closer at the girl, scanning over her features and laying a gentle, respectful hand on her shoulder to peer up. Her eyes were closed, her nose red (in a more sickly than cold way). Her face looked fine, a little sick, sure, but no less healthy even if her breathing was a little shallow, quick. It looked like she might’ve just passed out from a cold, the sickness driving her weary as she unknowingly passed out on the sidewalk. 

He ignored his brain asking him how she got this far into the alley then. 

His eyes sharped, though, when they caught the sight of her lips.

He almost wanted to laugh. All those years with drug awareness campaigns in schools and speakers telling them about the “dangers of drugs” showing them photos that he was sure was edited, or at least, exaggerated. 

It was funny because he'd always thought it wasn’t possible to have such effects. 

It was funny because it shouldn’t be possible for a mere chemical to turn you all the different colors of a rainbow. 

It was funny because her lips were blue. 

Now that he knew what to look for, he noticed that her fingertips were, too. 

He remembered her on their school’s sports day. He was, obviously, wrapped up in his own activities, being the captain of the volleyball team and all, but he would be blind not to notice her. She had always been extremely involved in school activities, leading most of them, too. She was always known to be cheery, bright, smart, and funny. He remembered when she’d done the high jump, hair flying around her as the light caught on her sun-kissed skin, the warm timbre of honey brown shining in the very best way.

As he looked down at her now, he hoped it was just the horrible pale lighting that had made her skin so ashen. 

But even pale lighting couldn’t do as much of an injustice.  

A flash to his right and a knife to his neck. 

“Stand up,” the voice said

He did. 

His mind was still running, running, running with thoughts. She was not the type of person to do drugs. How did she get drugs? No one did drugs. Not his friends, not her’s, not anyone in the school. Except-

Except. 

He turned. 

“Nakamura,” he greeted, voice deceptively calm even as his brain raced, hands trembled and thoughts screamed. He simply stared as the person in question snarled, digging the blunt knife he held, a little deeper. A little bit of blood trembled from the lips of the cut, pain blossoming from its core. Honestly, he was thankful for it as it grounded him again, provided him an anchor to focus on and saved him from his own, racing thoughts. 

He faced the other. 

“What did you do to her.” 

It was more of a demand than a question, though he knew he was certainly in no position to do so, what with a knife at his neck. It didn’t make him take it back though, face only darkening as he turned his sour face away. 

“Nothing,” he tsked, glaring at the girl as if she was the one who had done something wrong. 

Tooru’s blood boiled. 

“What did you do to her,” he repeated. 

Nakamura rolled his eyes, as if it was all a joke, as if an overdose was just a joke-

“Just some Dynamite, not even the strong stuff! She’s just weak as fuck, only took 4 needles to get her all shaky and vomity! To think if I gave her the real shit!”

If he had looked closer, he would’ve noticed his hand twitch around the knife’s handle, his eyes skirt nervously around the place,

He doesn't notice, though, Tooru’s brain stops registering his words at 4 needles.

4 needles.

What the actual fuck. 

“It’s not my fucking fault! I need the money and she’s got more than enough! How was I supposed to know that she’d fucking pass out! She was supposed to get hooked, not die!”

Die, die, die, die.

The words bounced around his skull, creating a new hive of confusion with every new path of thought they created, all important but at the same time none.

She was dead?

He looked at her, ashen skin, blue lips and blue fingertips. He remembered her shallow breathing, soft pulse, just barely there.

She was dead.

“What did you do?” 

At this point, he was just a broken track record, looping over and over again. 

If he had, even for a second, looked away from the girl’s figure, looked away from the way that her chest didn’t even raise the slightest bit anymore, he would’ve seen the glint in Nakamura’s eye, would’ve noticed the cogs turning in his head.

He didn't, though, so what came out of his mouth surprised them both, 

“I didn’t. You did.” 

Tooru’s head finally snapped around to face the offender, barely holding back a wince as the movement caused the knife at his neck to cut open a larger, though shallow, wound. 

“What?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowed as his hands twitched by his sides. Nakamura noticed the action and took it as an excuse to knee him in the gut, propelling him back onto the ground. 

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you, I don’t think you’d want to know what a desperate man can do,” he warned, something in Tooru’s mind yielding to the warning for a reason he couldn’t explain. Maybe it was that he was held at knife point or the fact that he had literally overdosed the girl by his right, or maybe just because he did look like a desperate man, and men were the scariest, then.

“You’re going to confess,” he declared, looking gleeful at whatever idea he had concocted in his brain, “You’ll say you were the one to borrow money from their pockets, the one to steal bits of their stash. You will confess and sell your soul to them in repayment, and you will leave me out of it.” 

Tooru looked up at the man with a glare, huffing out a dry laugh, 

“And why, may I ask, would I ever do that?”

“Because you’ll have to,” he sneered back, not liking the other’s nonchalance, “If not for yourself, then for your poor, helpless friends. Who knows what might happen when they’re walking home, or eating dinner alone. Or maybe even when they’re asleep. We are all known to be the most defenseless in the grasps of sleep.”

Nakamura smirked when he saw Tooru’s face drop, eyes widened as they stared at the floor. He searched his mind for something, anything , to help get him out of this predicament and said the first thing that came to mind;

“They know you,” he tried, “The dealers. They know your face.”

“They don’t give a shit,” Nakamura spat, “They don’t care who pays as long as someone does.”

He moved closer.

From here, he could smell the rot in his breath, see the yellow of his teeth, and he had to force himself to hold back his vomit.

“It’s gonna be you. You’re going to be that someone that pays, understand?” He asked, though Tooru had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t a question at all. 

From close proximity, he moved far, backing up with his knife still pointed straight at him though it no longer cut into his neck. 

“One wrong move and I’ll shoot in the brain of your friends so fast, you won’t even be able to blink, pansy,” he sneered, walking out the alley while keeping his front faced towards them the whole way.

Tooru inhale. 

Exhaled.

Tooru didn’t know much of the underground world. 

He didn’t like things he didn’t know. They scared him. 

He wanted to know more. He wanted to know how to get out of this. He wanted to find a loophole. 

He wanted to tell the police, tell his parents, tell the school.

He pulled his jacket out of his bag, buttoning up the neck to hide the still bleeding cut. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse and trying to hold back his sobs as he found none.

But he couldn’t, not at the cost of his friends’ safety- of Hajime’s safety. 

So he kept quiet.

He kept quiet as he walked away from the dead girl. He kept quiet as he was bombarded by questions from his parents, asking “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”. Quiet, as he avoided his friends. Quiet, as he followed Nakamura’s instructions. 

Quiet, as he laid claim to the bullshit Nakamura had done. 

Deadly silent when he paid for them. 

Quiet, as he cried, too, though he left that part out. Hajime didn’t need to know the more intimate details, despite the line between intimate and not constantly being blurred between the two of them. 

It was funny how, as he finished, a silence much like the one between them on the day he disappeared, filled the car. 

Tooru inhaled.

Exhaled. 

“Shit,” Hajime breathed, and gods, if that wasn’t just the perfect summary - “So that’s what happened to Akina-” 

And, despite everything he could’ve drawn from it- maybe apprehension, maybe fear of being blamed (not like he didn’t already blame himself)-, above all, he just thought, ‘So that was her name’. 

He hated himself, cursed himself, everyday that he failed to recall her name. He could never believe himself, believe that he had just forgotten her so easily. Sweet, kind, and smart Akina who clearly had so much more ahead of her than he ever did. 

But he had taken that away from her, hadn’t he?

Same old Tooru.

“So- so, what? He fucked up under your name and you took the fall anyway ?” Hajime questioned, successfully breaking the other out of his mournful monologue. 

Tooru snapped his head to the other, shocked at the lack of blame or accusation in his voice. It took him a while to process the words he had said, over the tone, and when he did, all that he could think to say was, 

“Well, when you say it like that-” 

“My gods- you could’ve just told me! We could’ve fixed it!” 

“Like hell I could’ve! Do you know what kind of shit you’ve gotten yourself into for my sake?! No fucking way I would’ve allowed that!” 

“I don’t care ! I’ve never cared when it comes to you! We’d swore to be there for each other! How could you just leave like that? What happened to being open with our problems ?!” Hajime yelled, his emotions getting the better of him as he sped up, causing them to careen forward aggressively as he cringed at the openness of his words. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you!” Tooru shot back, looking up from where he’d hit his head and glaring at Hajime, though the action was half-hearted, at best. 

“You hurt yourself . That’s as close to hurting me as you’ll ever get.”

Hajime heard a sharp inhale by his side but turned his head away as he made for a smooth turn to the left. The car was quiet for some time and it made Hajime think that was the end of it before Tooru spoke again, his voice carrying a different tone, this time around. 

“That’s not fair,” Tooru replied, hurt in his voice as he shook his head. 

Now, Hajime didn’t get mad a lot, especially not at Tooru. Annoyed, sure, but never genuinely angry. He had somewhat of a soft spot for the boy which prevented any sort of pure aggression he might’ve felt. He was more prone to get angry at those who hurt the brunette, rather than the brunette himself. But, no matter how much Tooru liked to tease him about it, he was not a brute, he did not lose his temper with people that easily.

12 years later, having been the person to keep them apart for so long, Tooru was still Hajime’s one and only exception.  

“Fair?” he scoffed, “You wanna talk about fair, Tooru? ”

“Hajime-”

“No, no, let’s talk about your oh-so-great fairness. Let’s talk about how fair it was of you to never have given me a choice. How fair it was of you to disappear into nowhere, not a single trace, note or lead to let us know if you were still alive ,” Hajime spat, glaring at the taller through the rearview mirror as he flicked the turn signal mindlessly-

“I had to go looking myself and I never, not even once, ever thought to stop looking for you. I had to watch my world crumble around me as I found out that not only was my best friend alive and kicking all these years, he was also somehow the lead gunman for a notorious criminal agency that I had, until that point, believed only existed in okasan’s overbearing warnings!” he tugged on the stick under the wheel, yanking it back with so much force Tooru was surprised it didn’t snap off-

 “I had to deal with the realization myself, had to keep myself together and wonder, again and again, what I had done to make you run away from me like that! To make you turn like that,” Hajime said, and this time, he wasn’t as aggressive with it. He sounded hurt, almost, his voice fading out a little. Tooru started to reach out to him, wanting to comfort, when something in the other’s eyes hardened, causing him to regain his attitude as he harshly swerved the car to the right-

“Now, tell me Tooru, what part of all that sounded fair to you?” he seethed, anger renewed. He could not do this right now. He did not just go through all that to have his best friend teach him about fairness . 

“I didn’t have a choice, stop making it out like I did!” Tooru gritted out, gripping his seat handles until he could feel his finger cutting through the thick leather, and could see his knuckles turning white. 

“I’m not saying you had to give me weekly updates on everything, I’m just saying you could’ve told me before you just got up and left ! I’m just saying you could’ve let me come along!” 

“I didn’t want to involve you!” Tooru spat, frustrated tears lining his eyes. It should have set down a line, it should have told Hajime to back off like his (often ignored) common sense was screaming at him to do. 

But, hell if he wasn’t tired of backing off all the damn time. 

“That’s my choice to make,” Hajime pushed, forgoing the line altogether. Pushing and pushing till it all came to a head, until it all exploded and covered their hands with blood all over again.

“I’m SORRY ! Okay ? Is that what you want to hear?” Tooru started, saying the words with a heat he hadn’t felt in years. A heat he didn’t think he’d ever get to feel again. Hajime was just good at making the impossible happen, or so Tooru found. 

“That- that I’m sorry for fucking everything up, I’m sorry for not telling you, I’m sorry for not giving you a choice! I’m sorry for not thinking things through, I’m sorry for being terrified of what would happen if I did, I’m sorry for driving myself crazy with the what if’s, thinking about every single thing I could’ve changed, everything I could’ve done differently,” he continued, voice getting just that much quieter with every syllable he let slip, every layer he peeled back until he was completely and wholly laid bare.

“I’m sorry for making one dumb decision when I was 15, the one dumb decision that took it all away from me. Took you away from me and me away from you. I’m sorry, okay? You might not believe me, but I am sorry,” Tooru blurted, his voice getting louder and louder before the power in it seeped out, leaving him sounding winded and hurt, remorseful and upset. Soft. 

A silence rang out through the car after his outburst, broken only by the awkward coughs Hajime let out and the sighs Tooru released. At a particularly sharp turn, it seemed as though Hajime had gotten tired of the silence between them, reaching over to the middle console and flipping on the radio. He turned a few channels until he found the kind of music he liked and then leaned back, one hand on the wheel and another placed on the gear switch. 

While the music filled in the silence between them, it didn’t ease any of the tenseness. Hajime got fidgety, playing with the keychains hanging off the ignition for fun and tapping his feet right beside the middle pedal. Dangerously close by. 

With a miscount they really should have seen from a mile away, Hajime stepped on the brake pedal directly, causing the car to lurch forward and fall into a harsh stop that made the passengers’ hearts go from a stand still to beating off the charts. 

Frazzled, they had taken a few minutes to calm down before they had eventually gotten broken out of their reverie by a car, passing speedily by their own and leaving dirt, formed as floofy brown clouds, in their part to travel through the windows.

Hajime switched the gear to drive, pushing the handle up and, gently this time, stepping on the accelerator. As the car smoothly continued on its journey, he took his hand off the gear switch, running it through dark locks as he took in a deep breath, as if to steady his resolve and finally bite the bullet. He wondered for a brief second if it would just be easier to push the metaphorical elephant (along with himself) out the moving car door, instead, but quickly pushed the thought away, not really craving to face his friend’s wrath. 

Opening and closing his mouth a few times in preparation, he stopped gaping like a fish out of water when he finally grasped an idea of the words he really needed say,

“I’m sorry too, you know. I didn’t mean to push,” he started, getting a little more confident when the brunette next to him did that small little head tilt that was meant to say ‘I’m still mad at you but I’m listening ’, “Or suggest that you- you know?- that you had a choice, or whatever. I know it was hard on you and I didn’t mean to lash out like that, before. I was just- mad, I guess? I mean, I hadn’t seen you in years and I missed you so much and it all just kind of- came crashing, you know? I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

As another silence took over the car, Hajime fretted that he had said the wrong thing, that he had messed it all up. He had never been good with words, he wouldn’t really be surprised if this was the time it finally came to bite him in the ass.

Just as Hajime was about to take it all back, try to word it better, get on his knees and beg the brunette to just talk to him again, Tooru coughed into his fist, turning away to watch outside the window though his mouth opened in a way that clearly signified he had something to say. 

“...You missed me?” Tooru settled for asking, though the tone of his voice made it seem more like a statement than a genuine question. Not like he was wrong in his assumption , Hajime thought, and he let him know that. 

“I did. Everyday,” he said firmly, earning a muted laugh from his companion, “You were my best friend- Hell, you still are my best friend, 12 years be damned. I- I just hope…”

He trailed off then, hesitating, lacing his voice as he quieted down, avoiding the brown eyes that were burning holes through his skull. 

“That the same… could be said for me, too,” he mumbled out at last, gaze steadfast and set on the road ahead, getting darker as the sky started to play with deeper shades of the pink and purples that had overtaken it, by that point.  

He heard a fond huff from his side then a telltale rustling of movement as a long, lanky hand reached out to take a hand of the steering wheel, making him realize, just then, how tight he had been gripping it

“I thought you’d remember by now but it seems like you need to be reminded again,” Tooru mock-reprimanded as he caught Hajime’s eye with an easy smile, pacing their finger together, all the while, “Whatever applies to you applies to me too-”

He dragged their joined hands back to the middle to rest there, twisting his body to reach the control panel switches with his other hand.

“-So, of course, you’re still my best friend, always will be,-”

He turned the radio dial, switching it to a different station, the music filling the car no longer a soft, soothing presence. 

“-Shitty music taste, and all,” he grinned, leaning back into his seat smugly as he watched Hajime go through the 5 stages of grief in a split second, his ears bleeding their hearts out as they were assaulted by his best friend’s questionable music choices. ‘ This is good music,’ his friend had said at some point,  loud, poppy songs, with a horribly done rap, the soundtrack for their little trip as Tooru started to sing along to the songs that Hajime knew he knew by heart, even after all these years. 

It made him want to punch and kiss something (preferably Tooru) at the exact same time in both annoyance for his friend’s taste’s and gratitude for the ease that had settled between them again. 

He wanted to do something, express his thoughts, let the other know everything he was thinking, everything he had missed out on those 9 years all alone.

But, for once, Hajime just let it be.