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English
Series:
Part 5 of toya torture nexus
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Published:
2024-06-03
Words:
857
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1/1
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25
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75
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just let me go

Summary:

Toya hates the memory; how Akito’s yellow streak had been so clumsily dyed, the slight chuckle to his voice as he introduced himself, the genuine interest sparking in his eyes as he took Toya in. He hates all of it.

Finally, his eyes land on the blue and orange characters clumsily painted onto the wall.

He decides to solve the problem in what might be considered a distinctively Akito-like manner; consider it a final homage to his partner before he leaves forever.

---

Toya regrets leaving his partner.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Walking around at midnight right before a snowstorm probably isn’t the best decision Toya has ever made.

It’s not predicted to start until the sun rises, but it’s still ever-present, cold lingering in the air as streets become slippery with ice. The time is a concern, too; Vivid Street is safe at night, but the rest of Shibuya isn’t anywhere near as trustworthy. Oh well. It's not that big a deal if he gets mugged or worse, not like he has any valuables on him.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this. It’s cold and dark and he’s an angsty teenager, screw him. If he can’t solve his problems he can at least be angry about them.

The lights change from bright to comforting as he crosses into Vivid Street. Being here feels wrong after he’s been driven out by one of its best performers. The lights aren’t as comforting as they are interrogating; apparently, everyone on the street had coordinated to aid in his misery, neon orange and blue glinting off of the frost.

Toya knows exactly where he’s going. Shutting out the rest of the world comes naturally at this point. The blaring music leaking out from late-night live houses doesn’t faze him, he just keeps walking, hood pulled up just in case anyone he knows is out tonight. No way in hell is he talking to anyone. If they ask he’ll just run.

Eventually, when he feels like he might die of the cold, the lights grow dimmer, less glaring. He’s close.

It doesn’t take searching, he knows exactly where he’s going, but he lingers as if he’s lost anyway. No one is watching, obviously no one is watching, but he doesn’t want to look desperate regardless. He doesn’t want people thinking he’s pathetic as he is. He doesn’t want this to be Vivid Street’s last memory of him.

The cold dissipates a little when he slinks into the alley. It’s nicely familiar; he pushes the feeling of comfort away. He shouldn’t like it here, that’s exactly why he’s here in the first place. He… he hates this place. Of course he does.

Toya hates the memory; how Akito’s yellow streak had been so clumsily dyed, the slight chuckle to his voice as he introduced himself, the genuine interest sparking in his eyes as he took Toya in. He hates all of it.

Finally, his eyes land on the blue and orange characters clumsily painted onto the wall.

He decides to solve the problem in what might be considered a distinctively Akito-like manner; consider it a final homage to his partner before he leaves forever.

Toya leans back, and then, with as much force as his weak body can muster, he punches the wall.

It stings. He does it again. Again, and again, and again, until his knuckles are burning and his whole body is aching, he doesn’t stop, he won’t until the blood covers their names. He can feel it, hot against his hand, he can see it smudging onto the wall. But he doesn’t stop.

He hits–

He wants Akito to hold him again.

–and he hits–

He wants Akito to kiss him again.

–and he hits–

He wants Akito to love him again.

–and he hits.

He wants him back.

He doesn’t stop until his body forces him to. Breath heaving white into the air, Toya staggers backwards, sliding down against the wall and settling roughly onto the concrete; the cold burns, even through his clothes. This is where he was sitting when he–

A street light shines dimly into the alleyway. He holds his hand up, inspecting the damage; blood leaks down, dripping from his fingers in a way reminiscent of his violin lessons. The knuckles are completely torn up and dirty. Come to think of it, they feel like they could be broken; Toya chuckles. Akito always said he wanted to give Toya the chance to experience things he missed in childhood.

He’s done so much towards that.

His first real friend (“Hey, I’m honoured you think of me that way, dude.”), his first trip to the arcade (“You’re tellin’ me you’ve never done this before?!”), his first smile (“Looks good on you, partner.”), his first crush (“You okay, dude? You look red.”), his first kiss (“That was… holy shit.”), his first love (“I… yeah. You too, Toya.”), and his first heartbreak (“Don’t you ever show your fucking face around here again!”).

Toya smiles. He doesn’t hate Akito, he never could. It’s himself that’s the issue. Akito was simply unlucky; now that they’re apart, he’ll finally be able to thrive.

He uses the last of his energy to lean out of the alleyway. He can see the pedestrian bridge that runs over Kamiyama Street; he considers walking out to it and doing what he wishes he was brave enough to, but ultimately chickens out. He’s too weak to walk home; even if he could, he’d probably get pushed back out, showing up like this.

Oh well. The alleyway isn’t that bad.

He takes a breath and lets the cold and the memories consume him as snow starts to fall.

Notes:

idk guys im not feeling that silly today. toya suffers for it

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