Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Amagai in a long time. Maybe it was because they were older, and the candy-colored lenses of their childhood had long broken. Nothing lasts forever, as Ryo had learned at a young age when he’d come home from school to find his parents crying at the kitchen table.

Before they had gone bankrupt, their family name had meant so much more, and everything had been looking up. Now, it was almost comical to look back and see how much had changed. The only way that they’d survived was because Ryo’s father was a people pleaser. And just like his father, Ryo wasn’t expected to do anything more than that. Needless to say, he'd adjusted to the lifestyle pretty quickly. If there was Ryo’s thing his father had taught him, it was to adapt. That was the only way to survive. It was both a blessing and a curse, the help they got from the Amagai family. Ryo supposed a lifetime of debt was better than no life at all.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t at least a little excited when he found out he was transferring to Senomon. Especially since he’d be with Amagai again. For a little bit, Ryo daydreamed about what would happen, how it would go, just to distract himself from his newfound responsibilities. It almost made him forget all he was leaving at Nami High. When they had started, Ryo had thought it would be like before. But Amagai had made it very clear that he didn't give a shit about Ryo or his family the moment he had gotten out of the car in front of Senomon for the first time. Maybe Ryo was the stupid one for expecting more than a “long time no see”. Or maybe Amagai didn’t remember him. He had changed, in more ways than one. They both had.

Money, Ryo realized, changed everyone, for better or for worse. In that way, Amagai was right. It was the only thing that motivated people. Just like his parents. They were lucky to still be alive, to still be together, after all that had happened. The thought plagued Ryo more often than not, ever since his parents had lost their fortune.

But Ryo couldn’t forget about how they had sold him out to the Amagai family without hesitation. He knew why they did it, but it still hurt to think that they didn’t care enough to spare him. That they didn’t care enough about their own son to not sell him into a life of near slavery. That he was but an object to be used, his value measured on how well he could serve another.

Sometimes Ryo wondered what life would have been like if they’d never gone bankrupt, if his father hadn’t bet on the wrong deal, if he and Amagai were still friends. But those thoughts stayed locked away in the back of his mind. What mattered was that he showed up to Senomon every morning, early enough so that he could stand and wait for Amagai, cold morning air sneaking down his collar. And when he heard the familiar sound of the limo door opening, and Amagai’s designer leather shoes hitting the pavement, all the thoughts and doubts in his head would disappear.

&&&

The weekends were never fun. Ryo stayed at home for most of the day, resting. As much as someone like him could rest. Often, Amagai would call him at some random hour and he’d have to leave once again. There were rules when it came to working for Amagai, not unlike the ones he’d been taught when he was young and he had to follow his parents to important events. Don’t sit unless Amagai sits first. Stay silent unless you’re addressed. Always arrive early so you’re there before Amagai is. Ryo had internalized these rules, so he could be perfect, the perfect servant for Amagai.

But it was times like these, when Ryo was alone, walking through the dark or in the early hours of dawn, that he felt most alone. Who was he without Amagai Kohei? He had no real sense of purpose without him. There was nothing left for him at home.

There, Ryo’s parents didn’t say much. And when they did, they spoke in soft, lilting voices, as if they were scared that something bad would happen in the comfort of their own house. The passion that had once driven them was gone. Or maybe, it had never been there in the first place.

There was nothing to do in the house itself, the walls barren and the air warm and stagnant. They didn’t have many decorations, rooms filled with old furniture, and what little they had been able to keep after the bankruptcy.

It was a wonder they had been able to keep the place this long, with how unstable their income was. He had been apprehensive when he’d first seen it, after they’d sold the old mansion and moved out within the week. Ryo remembered being confused about how their quality of life could have changed so drastically in such a short period of time.

“There is beauty in austerity, Ryo.” His father had told him, as they lugged the small boxes of their belongings into the sad house, which was more like a shack. It never stuck.

It was nice, at least, to have home-cooked meals. (Even if Ryo had to keep pretending he didn’t notice the amount of rice in their bowls getting smaller and smaller.) It didn’t distract him from the aching bruises under his shirt, or the blood on his uniform his mother would carefully scrub out each night. The next morning, like clockwork, Ryo would leave and walk back to the school, to dirty it yet again.

If he had free time, he would leave and help a fisherman down the street move boxes. Ryo didn’t get paid very much, and the boxes were often heavy, filled with god knows what, but it kept him busy. Ryo didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, to be useless and lazy. So he did the only thing he knew how. He worked. The old man didn’t address him, just pointed to where he should start, and at the end of the day, he slapped a few hundred yen into Ryo’s hand. It wasn’t much, and the amount varied from week to week, but it was something. Often, Ryo would use it to buy himself something from the convenience store on the corner, so he wouldn’t get too hungry at home. The rest, he would save. Ryo found it always helped to have spare change in your pocket when you lived like him.

At night, in the comfort of darkness, was Ryo’s least favorite time of the day. Sleep never came easy. The soft, rhythmic exhales of his parent's breathing were the only sound in the room. There was nothing to distract him from his thoughts, nothing to do, nothing to keep his hands busy. That and the cheap futon they had bought was itchy and thin. Ryo hated it more than anything else, to be left alone to his mind. Especially since Ryo didn’t trust it to wander to half-formed fantasies and delusions of how his life could have been if it hadn’t all gone wrong when he was ten. But there was nothing he could do now, he supposed. No use crying over spilled milk. Or blood, in his case. The good thing about wearing red was that no one ever saw you bleed.

&&&

“Have you eaten?” The question catches him off guard. It’s nearly midday, and they’re both sitting in the gym as usual, on the old couch that Amagai had gotten some of the other students to lug in a while ago. Ryo remembered how much Amagai had yelled at the two cronies to carry the couch up the stairs.

Ryo’s stomach had been grumbling for a while, but he supposed it would be rude if he asked to leave while on the job, so he’d been ignoring it. Amagai didn’t approve of slackers, or breaks for that matter. He shook his head, and Amagai tossed him a wad of cash. 

“...Thank you.”

Amagai blew a hair out of his face. “Don’t mention it.” Ryo started to walk away, the yen heavy in his hand, but a good kind of heavy, the kind he hadn’t felt in a while. “Get something for me too,” Amagai called over his shoulder. Ryo nodded, and made his way down the rickety stairs.

The rest of the day, Ryo felt happier. Maybe they weren’t friends like before, but this meant that Amagai thought of him at least. Maybe even cared about him, at least enough to give him time off. It might have been stupid, but his good mood lasted Ryo all the way home. After a while, it became a pattern. Amagai would send him out on errands, and leave him a little money for himself. Even if Amagai only did it because he thought it was a charity, Ryo was still grateful.

&&&

Ryo was tired. He’d had a very long day already, and trekking on his own halfway across the city to a dingy basement bar was the last thing he wanted. Apparently, Amagai’s dad was friends with the owner and was letting them use the space. Though Ryo knew the Amagai family had no real friends. Only those who they could use and take advantage of. Like his family.

He knew the moment he’d seen the collection of delinquents in the room that the alliance would be precarious. There was no way they’d all get along. Ryo had no idea how Amagai was planning on making this work. Although he expected large amounts of yen to be involved. Money talked, after all. And he had been right, Amagai letting rolls of money spill out onto the table and the floor. The room had gone silent after that.

Ryo listened to the way Amagai spoke to the others, the way confidence coated his words, making them more convincing, taking them from mere pipe dreams to a real, tangible goal. Ryo had always envied this about Amagai. He was louder, more forceful, and could make people do what he wanted based on words alone. In that way, he hadn’t changed much from how he had been as a kid.  Amagai, to him at the time, seemed so sure of himself. Ryo had wished he could be like that, that he wouldn't doubt himself, that he could one day mimic what Amagai had. He had always been the one to make the decisions for Ryo, to protect him. How the tables had turned.

Ryo had always been quiet and had never really been as sociable as Amagai, but Amagai hadn’t cared. He’d helped him anyway. But Ryo wasn’t Amagai, he couldn’t be no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t as bloodthirsty, as violent, or as unpredictable. He could protect him, but he could never be him.

“Keep quiet and do as I say. I’ll show you the glorious view from above.”

Ryo’s jaw clenched, as Amagai continued talking. Those words, they sounded too familiar. He zoned out, whatever Amagai said after that lost to his ears. There was no way he couldn’t have remembered. What he’d said to the assorted hoodlums had sounded identical to what he’d told Ryo as a kid. It was jarring, to hear Amagai say things like that to people he barely knew. Weren't those words special? They had been made just for Ryo, after all. Ryo knew he was clinging to loose strings. But he wanted to think that what they’d had was different, that what Amagai had said to him mattered.

Amagai left first like he always did, and Ryo followed. He watched Amagai get into his limo and drive off after, just as pissed as always. Ryo, on the other hand, felt more dour than usual. He had no desire to destroy the SWORD schools. Frankly, he could care less about them. He had heard stories of some of them, back when he had been at Nami High, but he’d never paid them any mind. Ryo heard footsteps behind him, getting closer. Someone else was leaving early as well. He looked out of the corner of his eye and spied one of the kids from Ebara, the one with the braids. Sameoka, he remembered.

“I’ve been wondering,“ The boy started, walking closer.  “You were the head of Nami High, so why are you at Senomon? And underneath the Amagai group's punk, no less? As strong as you are-”

“It’s none of your business,” Ryo said, cutting him off. “Keep your nose out of my affairs,”

He walked away, but he could still feel Sameoka’s eyes on him. Most people, or rather most delinquents, didn't care enough to figure out what was going on between him and Amagai. Or they were smart enough to know that they shouldn’t ask. Even if he downplayed it quite a bit with Amagai, he’d build up quite the reputation at Nami High. One which still preceded him, it seemed. But somehow, the day felt like it got worse after the meeting. Ryo had no idea why someone showing slight concern for his situation made him feel so uncomfortable.

&&&

It was the big day, and yet, Ryo didn’t feel excited at all. He supposed marching to the Oya area and disturbing traffic was ample entertainment for most of the delinquents around him, but not Ryo. Amagai didn’t seem that excited either, as Ryo had yet to see a smile on his face that day. It was instead replaced by an expression of pure hatred, of bloodlust Ryo had never been able to understand.

Nevertheless, he walked, and he followed, like any good pawn would. He held back for the first part, letting most of Amagai’s soldiers clear the way. Even though Amagai never said it, Ryo knew he was happy with his behavior, compared to the others at Senomon. They all followed Amagai in fear, or more in fear of Ryo and the fact that he’d do whatever Amagai asked. He was the only one with undying loyalty. It made Ryo feel a bit of satisfaction to know that he was Amagai’s right-hand man, even if Amagai treated him like an attack dog. Ryo didn’t mind, if it was for him. It was his job, after all. Amagai was nothing if not strategic, and Ryo could feel he was saving him for a bigger challenge. Which turned out to be Takajo Tsukasa.

They’d cornered him in an underground parking lot, and Ryo wasn't that surprised to hear that Tsukasa recognized him. They’d never met, but seen each other in passing. Ryo was tired of people bringing up Nami high anyway. It’d never meant anything to him, not like Amagai did. Amagai nodded, and Ryo took that as his chance to start.

Right away, he could tell fighting Tsukasa was different. Most of his battles were over in seconds, most of his opponents so incompetent that they couldn’t hold their own. It had been so long since he’d fought someone who could match him, who was an equal. No one at Senomon was like this, and no one had come close at Nami either. If this was what Tsukasa was like, Ryo could only imagine what power the rest of Oya held. Ryo nearly forgot the whole point of this battle was to annihilate Oya in the first place. Even if his face didn’t show it, Ryo was giddy to finally battle someone who might, for once, beat him. But it was dangerous to think that way with Amagai. He knew if he made one slip up, one mistake, that his job, and livelihood, would be on the line. So unfortunately for Tsukasa, he couldn’t fight for fun.

And luckily for him, Tsukasa was already tired, because it only took a few calculated strikes to knock him into the wall. Ryo started to walk away, before Tsukasa grabbed onto his jacket. But just when Ryo got his hopes up, Amagai swung his metal pipe down. Ryo stared as the pipe came down over and over again onto Tsukasa, Amagai hitting him until he stopped twitching.

“Why are you struggling with trash like this?” Amagai spat out after he finished, to which Ryo could only glare at him. He couldn’t expect Amagai to understand, to know what it was like to fight someone for real, not when he used money and weapons to get his way. Ryo himself was Amagai’s weapon, after all. Maybe that was why Amagai compared him to a tool. This was all Ryo was good at in his mind. Ryo did his work for him, because Amagai didn't want to get his hands dirty. Or because he thought that those under him were so lowly they didn't deserve to feel his touch in the first place.

Ryo flinched as Amagai kicked Tsukasa even more, and he stared down at the blonde boy in pity. This hadn’t been a fair fight. The whole idea of raiding Oya with an alliance wasn’t fair. But Amagai had never been known to play by the rules, and who was Ryo to question him? If this was Amagai’s idea of reaching the top, then Ryo would follow. He had to.

&&&

They were back in Senomon, walking to the gym like always, while the students behind them lugged Tsukasa down the halls. The boy had fallen unconscious on the way there, his feet dragging softly across the floor. Ryo could hear the jeers from the other students behind him, but he paid them no mind. As he walked beside Amagai, he felt the need to say something for once.

“They’re going to come after us.”

“I’m not dumb, Suzaki, I know that.”

“Then-”

Amagai patted him on the shoulder roughly, making Ryo jump. Amagai smiled, the same insanity in his eyes that Ryo had come to both love and fear. “Don’t worry about it. That’s not your job.” He grinned. “I have it all planned out.”

Ryo nodded, but the response didn’t reassure him. Amagai walked ahead, yelling to the students lined up and down the halls, and Ryo was left, as always, to his thoughts.

They had won today, but that didn’t mean they would win tomorrow. And if what he had heard about Oya’s students was true, they were in for it. And Ryo for one, was dreading it.

It wasn’t that he hated beating people up. He just didn’t get a sick sort of satisfaction out of doing it like others around him. Sure, he'd gotten good at it, but that was out of necessity. When you worked for someone like Amagai, people tended to be scared of you, especially if you looked like Ryo. Most of the time, his face in itself stopped anyone from initiating conversation. Not that it mattered, it was better if no one talked to him. That was what Amagai had always said. No one needed to know who Ryo was in the first place. He was but a pawn, loyal to his king.

No, It was the knowledge that Amagai was happy that he followed orders, that he was doing as he was told, that Amagai was watching, that he wanted this. To know he was being a good tool, was what drove him. It almost made him ignore the dried blood under his fingernails that never disappeared and his constantly bruised knuckles. The pleasure was short-lived, but in those few moments, he felt that he mattered to Amagai, in some twisted way. As long as he could be useful, he would continue.  

The devotion from his childhood has morphed into something more, something more dangerous. Nevertheless, Ryo was happy to fulfill his promise to him, even if he didn’t remember anything. He had made a promise, back then, and he was going to keep to it. Even if the boy he loved would never care, he still would.

Chapter Text

It had been a good couple of weeks of Amagai Kohei, all things considered. His allowance had increased, his grand plan was finally being enacted, and everything was strangely…fine. It wasn’t often that Kohei felt that way. It was all going exactly how he wanted, except for one thing.

Lately, he’d noticed something was off with Suzaki. Not necessarily with what he did, but his attitude. Suzaki wasn’t a happy-looking dude, but even so, he seemed more gloomy than usual.

He’d mentioned it to Saboten, who hadn’t been much help. “He always looks that way,” Saboten had remarked, as he chugged another one of Kohei’s cheap beers one afternoon. “Don’t see what changed.”

Kohei had rolled his eyes, taking a long drag from his cigarette. The fractured light from the window above him highlighted the smoke, as he stared off into space. The gym wasn't a good place for a hideout in his opinion. He needed something better. Something grander.

But from here he could look down on all the sad little people below him, red-clad students milling around under his watchful eye. None dared incur his wrath, remembering what had happened when Kohei’d first shown up. Most of them were on his payroll anyway. His father never noticed if money went missing anyway, so the amount he paid them didn’t matter. The only question was if they were worth the money. Most people tended to do whatever he said once he pushed cash into their hands. That was how it always went with Kohei.  

Saboten was the same way. Kohei doubted he would go along with anything he said if he wasn’t being bribed. Kohei knew deep down he was still bitter about being stripped of his label as leader of Senomon. But he hadn’t been any good at it, so in Kohei’s mind, he was a great improvement.

Maybe he shouldn't have been watching so intensely. Perhaps that was the problem. Suzaki was probably fine, as always. They hadn’t had any problems lately. Not like Kohei had had with the other dimwit students. He was about an inch away from caving Saboten’s head in at this point.

Kohei could still remember the day he and Suzaki had taken Senomon over, bodies strewn across the floor all over the school. It was then he’d first realized how strong Suzaki was, how much potential he had. That day, Suzaki had proved his loyalty to Kohei. The sort of loyalty that was hard to come by. Kohei had always known they would end up this way, moving to the top together.  But he wondered what made Suzaki so loyal in the first place. Surely not the fact that they used to be friends. Kohei supposed money could motivate anyone to go to such lengths.

The only thing that was different now from back then was that Suzaki and he weren’t on the same level anymore. Suzaki was his personal guard, so to speak, bound to him by his parent's obligations. Kohei almost felt bad for the guy, but they had been separated for so long that he couldn’t make himself care. It had been years since they’d seen each other, even longer since they’d had a friendly conversation. Considering how bad friends had been for Amagai before, they were better off with whatever they had right now. As long as Suzaki did what he was told it would all go well.

He and Suzaki had a special relationship, one Kohei wasn’t quite sure what to call. He was proud of Suzaki, for everything they had achieved, and would continue to achieve with this new battle. Yet there was one little thing that irked Kohei.

Sukaki was the only one who had truly seen him when he hadn’t been Amagai, but someone else. Someone softer. The real Kohei, the one even his parents didn’t get to see. And that made everything with Suzaki more dangerous. Suzaki couldn’t know how much he cared, how much he knew, lest he use it against him. It was better to insult him, to remind him of his place each day than to mend the bond they had before.

Suzaki was no different than the rest of the airheads at Senomon, Kohei told himself. He was just slightly more pleasant to look at.

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to tell Saboten about it, but it had been circling his brain as of late, and it made more sense to get it off his chest.

“Really? So you’ve known him since you were kids?” Saboten asked incredulously. Kohei had forgotten most people didn’t know the true story between him and Suzaki, on account of the latter keeping his mouth shut most of the time. Which gave Kohei the perfect opportunity to spin it into something better.

“Yeah, his dad’s business fell through, and my family’s group scooped him up and made him a chauffeur. We keep food on their table,” Kohei grinned. “He’s been my pawn for a long, long time.”

And he’ll never stop. Kohei thought to himself. He found that he talked about Suzaki like he was a prize, like having Suzaki as a pawn was something special. In a way, it was. No one else was like Suzaki.

“Pawn, huh,” Saboten took a long drag out of his cigarette, and it was then that Suzaki returned from his expedition to the convenience store, drinks in hand.

“The guys from Kiri High are out front,” He said, walking toward them.

Right on cue, Kohei thought. He was tired of rounding up random schools to join the alliances, and some had backfired already. Most of the lesser-known schools in SWORD and the surrounding area were apprehensive about taking on a school like Oya. Luckily Senomon had enough manpower to squash the insurrectionists before they told anyone. It was join or die, and it seemed most of their district had chosen death.

“Hey, Saboten. Round up the pawns up.” Saboten nodded and walked away, and Suzaki handed him his drink as Kohei put out his cigarette on the ashtray. Kohei recognized that it was the same drink that had been his favorite as a kid. Interesting.

Suzaki reached to give him the spare change from his pocket, but Kohei stopped him. “That’s for you.” Suzaki’s eyes widened slightly, and he bowed slightly. “Make sure you earn it.” Kohei gave him a small smile, or at least what he thought would pass as one. He knew Suzaki would be able to see the sentiment behind it. He wasn’t stupid.

Suzaki, however, stared down at Kohei, eyes filled with an emotion he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Am I just a pawn?” Suzaki said, a slight tremble in his voice. “I thought we were friends.”

Ah. So he’d overheard. A beat passed, the tension in the room making Kohei’s heart beat faster. Suzaki wasn’t usually this direct. Nor did he ever ask these types of questions. That was why Kohei liked him, because he was quiet and obedient, exactly what he needed. He didn’t pay people to talk back.

“People only gather around me for money. You’re no different, are you?” Kohei scoffed. No, Suzaki wasn’t. There was no other reason for him to act like that. It was only logical.

“I-”

“Friends can’t be trusted.” Kohei interrupted. “Pawns are all I need.” He knew it sounded rehearsed, and it was. It’d been repeated over and over in Kohei’s head, drilled into him over the years by his parents. Maybe somehow, Kohei thought, if he repeated it enough, it would be true. Kohei knew he wasn’t a likable person. So he’d given up trying.

He knew Suzaki could see through it, he’d always had. But he wouldn't call him out on it. He couldn’t. Kohei knew he wouldn’t, and he was glad he didn’t.

He cracked open the soda can, and Suzaki said nothing after that, leaving the way he came.

Even if Kohei didn’t want to admit it, he needed Suzaki. But he'd rather eat broken glass than utter that out loud to anyone. Vulnerability was something someone like him didn’t need. Friends didn’t get you anywhere.

&&&

“No one would come for you if you got taken,”

There was that feeling again, that one Amagai had come to know so well. The feeling of dissatisfaction. Not with everyone else, but with himself. What Tsukasa had said to him had stunned him, if only for a second. Amagai had wanted to scream that he was wrong, that he was more important than Tsukasa would ever be, and that he had a future. But he knew that wasn’t true. His blood family discarded him just like everyone else. The only difference was that he didn’t have a found family to replace them. Kohei had never known what it was like to be loved unabashedly by someone, and never would. The two people who had brought him into the world had denied him that.

Kohei wasn’t as interested in business as his parents, at least not to the degree they were. He wasn’t the only heir in the Amagai family, either. What with his uncles and extended relatives scheming to take over the group for themselves, Kohei knew there was always someone who could take his place. He was like a pawn to them himself, a piece on a chessboard, collateral damage. His parents shoved money in his hands to keep him quiet.

Kohei doubted his parents had even wanted a kid in the first place if they hadn’t had to make one for the sole reason of competing with the other business groups in the area. That air of fragility, the knowledge that he could be replaced any second, that he was expendable, haunted his every waking moment. It was why he was so loud, so aggressive. He was the only person who could look out for himself.

Ever since Kuryu had fallen years ago, the land in and around SWORD had gotten way cheaper. Most of the other families would have abandoned ship by now, but Kohei knew his family was smarter than that. They were close to dominating the region like they intended, and Kohei had realized the best way to curb any rebellion would be to control the schools there as well. Kuryu had fallen to a bunch of delinquents and hoodlums, after all. Maybe if he cleared the board before the Amagai group moved in, they’d finally take him seriously.

But it was comments like Tsukasa’s that made him realize his assimilation was incomplete. All the kids at these schools were too poor to go anywhere, too poor to move, and the infrastructure of their neighborhood was terrible. That was why they turned to their gangs, to be their makeshift families, to make up for the love they lacked at home.

Kohei yearned for it, somewhere in his brain he knew that was what was missing from his life, the missing piece. But the rational part of him told him no. They wouldn’t love you, they can’t. You’re not like the others and you never will be. Your place is above them, it always has been. That was what it told him, day in and day out. And Amagai chose to believe it. Whether it was his intuition or the voices of his parents, he believed it. It hadn’t led him astray so far.

When the morning finally came, the excitement started pumping through his veins even more. The moment he’d awakened and opened his eyes to the light, Kohei had felt good, despite his neck cramping from sleeping on the couch.

He knew they would win. This would be a day of triumph for him. Sure, it was bad news that Ebara had dropped out, but Amagai had never liked those blockheads anyway. He didn’t think the others in the alliance had either.

Oya arrived right on time, the sun high in the sky by then. Saboten went out to gather the calvary, and the sound of metal pipes banging against the side of the buildings rang out through the air like music to Kohei's ears.

As the fight commenced, Kohei watched from his perch, focusing on one pawn after the other, watching as they wreaked havoc on the attacking delinquents. Even with the home advantage, there was still a kernel of doubt in Kohei’s mind that it would all fall through. Kohei called in some more favors from the other schools he and Suzaki had pillaged, just in case. The point of fighting was to subdue your enemy, at any cost, and no one was getting left behind.

His doubts were confirmed when Suzuran showed up. So Oya was starting an alliance too. How cute. Kohei couldn’t wait to see them all die. So he yelled at anyone who was stationary, and walked back up to the gym, just to unleash his secret weapon. Suzaki. With him, they had a chance at winning.

The others raced in, and Kohei’s tide of red met them. And off went Kohei’s best pawn, leaping into the fray like he always did. Watching Suzaki fight was more entertaining than anything else. The way he unbuttoned his jacket before he raised his fists, how his body moved, his long legs, the way his face remained unchanged, even with the screams of terror from his opponents. Nothing stopped him, nothing got in his way for long. Swift, emotionless. Perfect.

Gone was the shy boy who sat at the back of the classroom alone at school. Suzaki no longer looked so helpless, so innocent. He had grown up, his expression intimidating enough to the point where no one approached him. There was nothing that got under his skin, nothing that angered him. Most normal guys would have cracked under Kohei by now. The fact that Suzaki hadn’t was a further testament to his loyalty. It made him glad that he had Suzaki to himself.  

Even he could admit that Suzaki was handsome, although he didn’t let himself dwell on it. Sometimes he would catch himself staring, admiring how pretty Suzaki was when he was focused on the battle before him. Suzaki never notices, and Kohei would like to keep it that way.

Kohei had known Suzaki long enough to know that he only looked scary. The guy was still as timid as he’d been a decade ago. He was closed off, and shy, around strangers. Kohei remembered how he’d talked for him, led him around, and protected him. He remembered how Suzaki had lit up when they’d been alone, how interesting a person he was when they didn’t have to worry about being seen.

Kohei wondered if that part of Suzaki was still there, that it hadn’t been bottled away and run down from the last ten years. He also wondered how much Suzaki had actually done when he was at Nami High, how much he hadn't told him. Kohei might ask someday. Or maybe he wouldn’t. But it didn’t stop him from thinking about it.

Even now, Kohei still heard snippets of his preceding reputation from the other students. It was surprising, to say the least, when even Tsukasa had heard of him. It wasn’t his business what his pawns did anyway. Even when Suzaki had first transferred, the whole student body had been gossiping. Amagai wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere in the school there was an actual Suzaki fan club. The way the other students talked about Suzaki made him kind of mad, jealous even. He would say that it was because Suzaki didn’t deserve the attention, that he wasn’t good enough, but deep down Kohei knew better.

The fight, to say the least, was not going as he had planned. So it was time to up the stakes. Kohei pulled out his pocket knife, the one his dad had given to him as a gift when he turned thirteen. It had skewered quite a few people in its time, responsible for many school expulsions. Luckily this school didn’t have a knife rule.

He strung up Tsukasa, who didn’t even protest at being manhandled, so battered at this point his eyes barely focused. Kohei knew once the others from Oya saw him they’d freak out. Egging your enemy on, taunting them with the one thing they could never get, was the most fun. And what better way to do that than to ruin Fujio’s number-one man?

He cut the rope as fast as he could, watching as it slipped from the hoist and Tsukasa went falling onto the floor. Kohei was tired of hearing his snide remarks, tired of it all. Unfortunately for him, that stupid bastard Fujio caught him just in time. Kohei couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t half dropped Tsukasa just to see if anyone would do anything, and he had been right.

He could hear Tsukasa’s voice in his head again, and Kohei found himself wondering, for a split second, if anyone would catch him the way Fujio caught Tsukasa.

But there was no time for those types of realizations, as Tsukasa was already making his way up the stairs to the loft. Surprisingly he could still hold his own, even after being beaten half to death and tied up for a full day. He had enough strength to break Kohei’s finger clean in half, which made Kohei yell out in pain as the bone cracked. The wrench didn’t help him in the fight at all, and in a second they were tumbling over the side of the rail.

Kohei felt his head spin as he hit the ground, his muscles burning. He scrambled for the wrench, climbing atop Tsukasa to finish the deed, but was kicked down before he could. Before he knew it, he was screaming for Suzaki again.

The new Oya alliance surrounded them, the last few soldiers Kohei had, and the one true one, Suzaki. His soldiers ran off in fear as more people trailed in, leaving even amid Kohei’s promise of payment. Things were not looking good. He felt like an animal, pushed into a corner, sure death was to await him. Or worse, embarrassment. Just like he always did, Suzaki got back up, steps heavy on the ground as he limped in front of Kohei to protect him. Kohei almost couldn’t believe it. After everything, all the insults, the neglect, all of it, Suzaki was still going.

Kohei watched as his final pawn, his most valuable one, gave it his all. He was beautiful, even in this moment, as he and Fujio clawed at each other. Kohei had never seen someone fight like Suzaki did. Fighting for him, Kohei, at the expense of himself. He was entranced, but it became clearer and clearer that both Suzaki and Fujio were deadlocked. How could Fujio still be conscious? Suzaki was perfect, nigh undefeatable. It scared Kohei that he finally might have found his match, maybe even more than the fact that his school was clearly losing.

Kohei realized, at that moment, the reason why Suzaki was going so far. Why Suzaki cared so much, why he hadn’t given up on Kohei like everyone else. There was someone who still loved him.

Fujio was knocked to the ground, and Kohei cheered. Until he got back up again, and Suzaki was the one falling instead. So Kohei did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his pocket knife and went in for the kill. Those Oya bastards would keep their mouths shut after this.

Everything went silent, for a second. Kohei waited, expecting the feeling of blood to trickle down his fingers, the rough exhale of Fujio as his guts spilled out. But they never came. He looked down, at his knees, knife in hand, was Suzaki.

“What are you thinking?!” Suzaki shoved Kohei away as blood dripped from his hand onto the gym floor. “You can’t be using a thing like that,” He crawled toward Kohei, gripping his jacket with his hands. The look on his face was so raw, so desperate, it made Kohei’s heart sink into his stomach. At that moment, his whole world shrunk, the only thing he could focus on was Suzaki.

“We’re…going to enjoy that view, right?” He stuttered out, fists grasping tighter at Kohei’s jacket. Kohei blinked, realizing what he meant. “That’s what I’ve always thought. That’s why I always stood by you…you don’t even remember, do you?”

Suzaki was wrong. Kohei did remember. All too well, the promise he’d made, all that he had done for Suzaki. All for it to lead to this.

“Sorry…for not being useful.” Suzaki bowed, as low as he could with his injuries, curling into the space near Kohei’s feet. Kohei was at a loss for words. Suzaki had never shown him this much emotion, Kohei wasn’t sure what to do. “I guess now…we’re Oya High’s pawns,” Suzaki said, his eyes staring into space. Kohei gritted his teeth. He knew Suzaki had said that on purpose, just to rub his defeat in, to remind him of how bad a person he was.

“What are you saying? You lost one fight,” Fujio exclaimed. “That’s all,” But Kohei knew, that it wasn’t just one fight to Suzaki. It never had been. His whole life had been dedicated to Kohei, to serving him, to lose was to fail at this. To lose was to admit Kohei had gone too far, that he was beyond the point of protection.

Suzaki lifted himself onto his elbows, staring up at Kohei softly. “...Let’s start over,” Suzaki’s voice trembled, and Kohei could hear the emotion in his voice. “Can we be friends again? …Kochan?”

He wanted to tell Suzaki to stop, to shut up, that that stupid nickname belonged in the past. He knew what Suzaki was doing, knew what he was fishing for. But it seemed so genuine, that Kohei couldn’t bring himself to yell anymore.

At that moment, he wanted to crawl into the ground. He couldn’t understand how Ryo could lie ruined next to him and not give a damn about the crowd of people around him. All judging them. There was nothing to hide behind, nothing he could do now. They all laughed, and there wasn’t a damn person left to help him. The urge to grab Ryo and run away was so strong he had to clench his fists. He wanted to run away and hide, just the two of them, away from the madness Kohei had created.

His words meant nothing to the delinquents gathered there, they wouldn’t think higher of him. He had been humiliated. His father, if he knew, or if he even cared, would have been disappointed. Never before had Kohei felt so embarrassed. There was nothing he could do now.

“Give me a break,” He stammered out, trying to pull his face into a sneer, and Suzaki’s eyes fell.  He looked back up at Fujio, calming himself. “We lost this time. But we’ll crush you.” He kneeled down to Suzaki’s level. “Ryo and I.”

He heard the sound of sobbing, quiet, so foreign Kohei almost forgot what it had sounded like. But he saw Ryo’s tears fall down his face, mixing with blood and dirt splattered across it. He grabbed Ryo’s chin, wiping the tears away roughly. “Don’t cry, you moron.”

Ryo apologized again, but Kohei didn’t chastise him this time. He had fought well. It was Kohei who had failed him.

The crowd dispersed, leaving him and Ryo alone, for once.  They were finally alone now, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. Kohei winced as he lay down on the gym floor, the hard surface jarring. At this point he didn’t care how dirty it was, or how ruined his jacket was getting, he just wanted to rest. Now that the fight had ended, and the adrenaline was long gone, he was hyper-aware of the injuries he sustained. His hand still ached, even trying to move his finger sent shocks of pain up his arm. Ryo lay down beside him, a painful exhale leaving his body.

“Damn it…can’t see the sky from here.”

“Back to the start line…for us,” Ryo said, turning towards him. As Kohei looked over at him, he began to smile, no trace of anger or resentment anywhere on his face. How could he have been so ignorant? It was all so stupid. All Kohei had needed had been right here the whole time. As they began to laugh, Kohei promised himself that now that he had a second chance with Ryo, he wasn’t going to ruin it.

Chapter Text

He’d asked the lady at the front desk where a certain delinquent might be found, but apparently, there were many different students in the hospital currently, so she just pointed him in the general direction. Ryo eventually found the room, the door left ajar. It was silent, save for the sound of the oximeter beeping steadily. The sun lit the room softly, and Ryo’s uniform was a stark contrast to the washed-out white of the walls.

Tsukasa looked...better than he’d expected. His face was still heavily bruised, small cuts all peppering his skin, but he was breathing steadily and looked peaceful. A good portion of his head was covered in a bandage, as was his abdomen, from what Ryo could see. At the very least, he was in good hands, and Ryo was confident he’d recover eventually. Ryo wouldn’t come back again, not sure if Tsukasa even wanted to see him. It was better to check in now while he was still unconscious.

After a few minutes of just standing there, Ryo decided to leave. As he walked out the door, he nearly crashed into someone else. He almost stuttered out an apology before he realized who it was. Fujio, he recognized.

“You-”

Shit. He stopped in his tracks, Fujio still standing in the doorway. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Fujio spoke up.

“I won’t tell Tsukasa you visited.”

Ryo looked at the blonde-haired boy again, still fast asleep. “Thanks,”

“You know, I knew somehow you weren’t as bad as the rest of the guys at Senomon. I could tell the moment I fought you.” Ryo turned back towards Fujio, who had an earnest expression on his face. “Thank you, for checking in.”

“I’m still with Amagai,” Ryo said.

Fujio shrugged. “I know. But I’ve made friends with weirder people.” There was a small smile on Fujio’s face, and he looked like he was going to say something else, but Ryo walked in the opposite direction before Fujio could even finish his sentence. He should have known better than to come there. So much for good old-fashioned empathy. He only hoped Kohei never got tipped off about this.

&&&

The past few days had been different, to say the least. It had been nearly a week since their failed assault on Oya, but somehow, Kohei seemed like he was in a better mood. He’d even helped Ryo bandage up his hand after the fight. Ryo had done the same, Kohei wincing as his finger was wrapped into a cast. There had been no words, only actions, the tenderness in Kohei’s eyes making Ryo’s heart jump.

Kohei had told him to take a few days off, that he wasn’t needed for a bit. At first, Ryo had thought he was being dismissed, that Kohei was mad at him again, but the other boy had smiled at him instead and told him he’d done well. It was new to feel this type of affection, and it made Ryo feel special, somehow. It almost made him ignore the searing pain in his hand altogether.

When he finally did return to school, Ryo wasn’t sure how to feel. He came in later than usual, around mid-morning, unsure if he’d made the right decisions. When he laid eyes on the school again, he felt even more strange.

The building wasn’t in good shape, but it hadn’t been the image of beauty in the first place, so Ryo was sure it didn’t matter. Like his father said whenever something broke around the house, “damage builds character.” Whatever that meant. Ryo felt bad for the soldiers cleaning it up, but they had done it themselves. (Though throwing the desks and chairs out the windows wasn’t a bad idea, no one used them anyway.)

Ryo had never quite understood the self-destructive nature of most delinquents, how they wouldn’t even strive for a better education. Ryo hadn’t been to a “normal” school in years, and even he was a little shocked by the state of Senomon. Kohei had said that the school was nothing before they’d arrived, and maybe he was right. Most of the schools in this part of the city, just like Oya, were underfunded and abandoned by the supervisors, had been for decades. There was no way to fix them, and no one would ever try. Until then, they would continue cranking out hoodlums and miscreants to fill the streets.

The other students milled around, still nursing their wounds. Ryo could hear some of them whispering, but whenever he glanced at them they shut up. Even if he had lost, and bled out on the gym floor, he had still given it his all, which was more than any of the other students could say they had done. Ryo had fought well. Even if it had taken him a bit to realize it, he knew it was true.

He made his way up to where he knew Kohei would be, but the couch was empty, save for Saboten passed out upon it. Ryo walked closer, walking as loud as possible, but Saboten didn’t stir. The lazy motherfucker. Ryo couldn’t say he’d ever actually seen the guy fight. He picked up an empty beer can from a nearby table and chucked it near the edge of the couch, the clanging sound waking him up.

“Where’s Amagai?”

Saboten rubbed his eyes, still groggy. “...Went out for a smoke.” He responded, glaring slightly at Ryo.

He nodded, turning toward the balcony nearby. Ryo could see Kohei’s silhouette through the ripped fabric that had been strung up to cover it and approached him. Kohei usually didn’t go outside to smoke, preferring to make everyone around him inhale the fumes as well.  For him to go outside meant that he had some real thinking to do.

Kohei turned his head slightly and nodded. His face was pensive, as he looked out at the school, like a king looking out at his castle. But his castle, no, their castle was in ruins, and Ryo wasn’t sure how they would put it back together again. Was he supposed to greet him? He wasn’t sure. Ryo couldn’t tell what type of mood Kohei was in today.

Kohei exhaled slowly, smoke spilling from his lips into the cold morning air, before he cocked his head, offering Ryo the cigarette. Ryo didn’t smoke, and yet…he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this. He took a thin drag, trying not to cough it back up. The smoke was aromatic, heady, almost. Gradually, his lungs get used to the feeling, and the taste in the back of his throat.

“How’s your hand?” Kohei finally asked, gaze still fixed on the surrounding buildings.

“Better. I got some more bandages for it yesterday.”

“It’s not infected?”

Ryo shook his head, passing the cigarette back.

“That’s good,”

Ryo stared out of the corner of his eye as Kohei took another draw, Ryo still transfixed by his lips and the way they curled around the cigarette. He realized that their lips had touched indirectly, and felt his stomach jump a little. He had no right to be feeling this way. He didn’t know what he was feeling. They’d only just reconciled, Ryo didn’t want to make it weird and be delusional.

“How’s your finger?” He asked tentatively, as Kohei passed the bud back.

Kohei showed him the cast, a thick white casing haphazardly covering it. “It’s seen better days, that’s for sure.”

Ryo tried not to gag as he inhaled again, his lungs eventually adjusting to the acrid taste like he had adjusted to the strange silence between them the day had brought. It was different than before, Ryo feeling he could ask anything now, and that Kohei would respond. But he wasn’t going to, because he knew he wasn’t ready. Kohei would talk when he wanted to, but Ryo wasn’t going to push him. At least not yet.

They went back and forth for a while, before Kohei stubbed it out and left. Ryo followed, because he always did. A few steps behind, never too close, so that he wouldn’t cross the thin lines Kohei still drew between them.

Kohei, surprisingly, didn’t spend the day reprimanding the other students for failing him as Ryo had expected, instead in a sort of melancholic state Ryo had never seen before. He started walking around the school seemingly without rhyme or reason, though Ryo had come to know that Kohei never did anything without a purpose.

It was to show the students that they still had a leader, and that they shouldn’t think of rebelling now, even though the rift in the school was clear. Maybe that was why Ryo was there, to intimidate them. Just like when Kohei had first used him, the others knew Ryo could deal with them in a heartbeat, and chose not to repeat their mistakes. Ryo didn’t mind being paraded around if it meant that the impending coup he knew was coming would be postponed.

Kohei eventually stopped roaming after they’d circled the school twice, and made his way back up to the gym, steps slower than usual. He hadn’t said a word to Ryo the whole walk, and his expression was unreadable.

Someone finally made a move when they were making their way up the stairs, and Ryo barely registered it as some random student chucked a can at their feet.

“Hey, I never got my money,” They both jerked their heads toward the perpetrator, whose face paled once they turned around. He crept backward, the crowd of students surrounding him just as on edge as he was.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get yourself killed-” His friend whispered, loud enough that Ryo picked it up.

He looked toward Kohei, who shook his head.

“Leave him. We’ll deal with them later.”

He started back up the stairs, and Ryo could only glare at the gathering of students before he followed. He knew the only way most of the people at the school followed Kohei’s orders was because he paid them, but it still made him angry that they would demand more. He had been the only one who’d stayed, the one true soldier. If anyone deserved more money, it was him.

The gym was in even worse shape than the rest of the school, partly because of Ryo and his battles. He could still see some blood stained on the floor, though a few scattered guys were scrubbing it off. The rest of the broken equipment had been pushed to the side and strung up in the corner, made into more haphazard sculptures of trash like the rest of the school. Besides that, it was empty.

“Yo,” Kohei called out to Saboten, who was lazing on the couch like always. “Get us lunch.” He sat down on the couch and opened his phone like nothing was wrong.

Saboten seemed shocked, but that quickly evolved into something akin to a grimace. Ryo had never known Kohei to order Saboten around this much, getting lunch was usually his job. Ryo sensed that things were going to change, and were already changing, between them. Slowly, just maybe, the scales were equalizing.

“What do you want?” Saboten sighed, not even trying to hide his distaste in his voice, something Ryo would have been apprehended for in an instant.

“Yakisoba pan. Get me a drink too.” Kohei looked up from his phone, glancing at Ryo expectantly.

“Uh…same for me,”

“Gotcha,” Saboten said, pocketing the money Kohei tossed at him, and walking away.

Ryo had no idea what to do now, as Kohei was still scrolling on his phone, the latest model, he noticed. Ryo had been in a strange space where he was above the others and still below Kohei and his cronies somehow, and now he was free. Maybe it was because Kohei had realized Ryo was a much more valuable asset than the others, not to be wasted on menial tasks.

Ryo usually didn’t eat lunch until after school, since he was always busy, so eating with someone, let alone Kohei, was new. He sat there for a while, staring at the ceiling, not trying to look too closely at Kohei, in fear of disrupting his calm.

Kohei noticed his silence, looking over at him. “You seen the new Marvel  movie?”

“I don’t watch movies,” Ryo replied hesitantly.

“Oh,” Kohei nodded. “I can’t tell if it’s any good or not,”

“I never watched the series when I was a kid,”

“What, really?”  

Ryo wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. Surely they had more to talk about than these trivial things. But maybe Kohei needed his mind off of his own failure. Ryo knew he did.

“You should come over sometime, I have most of the movies on DVD.” Ryo nodded, not sure what to make of the proposition. “Well, except for the X-Men ones, but those aren’t that good,” Kohei trailed off, and Ryo searched for something to say. He’d been over to Kohei’s house a lot when he was young, but now it was probably completely different. Ryo doubted the house even looked the same, if it was the same house. Kohei’s family was always increasing profits, upgrading to the next best thing, whereas his had fallen into obscurity.

“That’d be nice,”

Kohei stared at him. “You never told me what happened to you at Nami High.” His tone had changed, and Ryo bit the inside of his cheek softly. He hadn’t expected Kohei to actually want to know about his life after he left. But they were friends now, right? And old friends had to catch up, when they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. In a way, Kohei was seeing him truly for the first time, and vice versa.

“It wasn’t that different from here.”

“But you must’ve done something,” Kohei said insistently, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So tell me.” Ryo couldn’t resist, and proceeded to tell him about his old high school, and Kohei, surprisingly, listened.

Nami High was one of those schools where it wasn't on most people’s radars like Oya, nor big or strong enough to make a name for themselves. Not until they’d gained their champion, Ryo. Once he’d proven he could beat anyone he wanted to, the students worshipped him like a god, almost. With that and his knowledge of strategy, which the school had previously been lacking, Nami High began ascending the ranks of the SWORD schools. There were others, but not nearly as strong as he.

To Ryo, it was all trivial, his life not having any real purpose there. He had no future now, not with his parent’s financial failures. The name of Suzaki had faded into obscurity, a name that no longer demanded respect when uttered.

However, it wasn’t trivial to the kids at Nami, who had gotten it in their heads that they could rule the city, as long as they had Ryo. In turn, they sucked up to him, to the point where Ryo considered leaving even before his father transferred him. They grew tired of his antics eventually, how he trained most of the day and didn’t bother going out. He didn’t have the money to, why should he? Whatever distrust they had in Ryo was dispelled once he started fighting, and once he led them into battle.

Ryo sort of missed being the leader, having everyone rally behind him, but all the manpower in the world couldn’t replace the approval he sought. He told Kohei about the school’s inner squabbles, the way they operated, including who he’d left in power. Ryo supposed it would be good information to know if Nami ever went after them.

All the while, Kohei nodded, obviously intrigued about the school and Ryo’s experience. “So you were like Murayama.”

“Who?”

“The former leader of Oya,” Kohei stated, like it was common knowledge. Ryo cocked his head in question. “He graduated two years ago, I think he’s with Sannoh now. Anyways, you were saying?”

“Ah…that’s pretty much it.”

Ryo didn’t feel like getting into much more of it, as he hadn’t had many friends. Sure, there’d been his second in command, and his first girlfriend, but Ryo wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Kohei about that, or if he even wanted to know. It still left a guilty taste in his mouth.

About that time, Saboten returned with their food, and any talk of new alliances or wars was thrown out the window. Saboten went off about how hard it had been to find the sandwiches, and how Kohei should’ve made Ryo do it, that he was the student representative or something. Kohei didn’t look amused.

“Ryo’s more important than you.” He said simply, unwrapping his food like nothing happened.

Saboten sputtered, but sat down nonetheless, cracking open a can of soda. He made much less interesting conversation, that was for sure, and Ryo could tell Kohei didn’t like him that much. Ryo almost wanted to throttle him, and he assumed Kohei felt the same, but he kept quiet, focusing on the first bites of food he’d had in nearly 18 hours.

“So, Amagai,” Saboten had started. Ryo could already tell from his tone he was about to say something he was going to regret. “What’re we going to do about Oya? We’ve got a lot of unhappy campers here who don’t want to follow you anymore.”

Ryo tensed, expecting Kohei’s temper to explode like it always did. And just when he was in a good mood, too.

Surprisingly, Kohei didn’t, sighing instead. “Let them talk. They don’t make the decisions.”

“But-”

“I don’t pay you to ask questions. And if you keep asking annoying ones I won’t pay you at all.” Kohei’s voice was calm, but the threat was very real, and Ryo, like always, was glad he was on Kohei’s side.

The look on Saboten’s face was of pure disdain, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut as they ate.

Suddenly, Kohei’s phone started ringing, and the boy grimaced as he saw the screen. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

Ryo could spy from his corner of the couch that the contact's name read Father, and he decided it would be a great time to stretch his legs. Ryo had known how bad Kohei’s relationship with his father was from day one, and he knew it was better to give him some space.

But walking the halls turned out to be the last thing he should’ve done. Ryo could hear the student whispering behind him, and before long, he heard footsteps behind him, the number growing as some of them trailed out of the passing classrooms.

So this was how it was going to be now. Ryo knew most of the guys at the school lived in fear of him, but now and then one of them would get a little bold, which led to a few fights a day more often than not.

He could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, one whisper sticking out. “If he couldn't beat Hanaoka, how can he beat all of us? I mean, he failed once, he can do it again.”

“What do you want?” Ryo said, shooting a glare at the nobody student behind him who had said it.

“Oi, you,” One of them called out, making Ryo roll his eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“You think you can just strut around here after letting us down?” Another one said.

Ryo turned around, seeing as four guys approached him. “I don’t need to talk to you.”

The main one sneered. “That battle was a waste of time, and you lost it for us.”

Ryo raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you run away?”

The group exchanged glances. They were all obviously underclassmen, metal pipes in hand. It was clear they had intended to gang up on him. “We did all the hard work, and you and that blonde shithead make us fight for nothing,”

“You should’ve stayed at Nami High, instead of serving that prick,” His friend chimed in. “He only likes you because you probably suck his dick.”

It wasn’t like Ryo had chosen to move schools, but that last comment made him seethe. In half a second the guy was on the ground, Ryo’s fists knocking him to the floor in an instant. The others jumped into battle, but not before Ryo hit them first, his long legs reaching them before they could reach him.

When he fought, Ryo found he didn’t need to think, and now was no different. All he did was feel, and the adrenaline pumping through his veins drove him. The group’s metal pipes quickly became discarded, skidding across the floor after Ryo threw one of them into another, but not before one of them landed a hit on his shoulder. The other students watched in horror, and possibly excitement, as he knocked them all down in under a minute. He dusted off his jacket, and walked away, leaving the guys groaning on the floor.

Though he liked being here with Kohei and hadn’t been attached to Nami High in the first place, Senomon took a lot of effort to keep in check. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to fight too many of the student body in the coming weeks. His bruised ribs would thank him.

&&&

The end of the day came sooner than expected, and Ryo wasn’t sure what to do. Ryo went down as usual with Kohei, escorting him to the limo that always awaited him, watching him get in like he always did. But the day wasn’t done surprising him, because Kohei gestured for him to enter, smiling. Ryo grinned back and got into the car, the door closing behind him as Kohei moved over.

Kohei turned to him suddenly, and without saying anything reached his hand out to Ryo’s face. His fingers rubbed at his cheek, and Ryo sat there petrified. It was almost like what had happened at the end of the fight, but…softer.

“You had some blood,” He said. Ryo nodded in affirmation, his heartbeat loud in his ears. What was he supposed to say? Where were they even going? Ryo could only look out the window, as the car moved. He could see his father keep glancing back at them through the mirror. It felt weird to be in the same car he had watched drive away so many times before. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

“...Where are we going?” Ryo almost didn’t want to ask, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“The mall. I need a new jacket.” Ryo recalled what had happened to the last one, and felt slightly guilty. But he could tell Kohei hadn’t meant it that way. His only fear now was that he had enough yen in his pocket.

Ryo hadn’t spent a lot of time downtown, mostly because there was no need to. Why go to a department store when you could barely afford a week’s worth of food? Ryo could vaguely remember from his childhood how the tall buildings had looked, the brightly colored lights, and his parents, how happy they had been. Or at least they seemed happy, when they were still clad in nice clothes and expensive jewelry. Ryo’s father had had to pawn off his priceless watch when they’d gone bankrupt, and Ryo had never forgotten what it looked like.

The limo let them off in front of one of the malls, and before Ryo could even get out, his father was already opening the door. It felt weird, to see his father with his head bowed so low, so…obedient. But Ryo ignored him, as he expected Kohei to want him to.They walked inside, and Ryo surveyed the surroundings.

“Where do you want to go first?” Kohei asked.

“You can pick,” Ryo said, curling his fingertips in his pockets. The place reeked of money, of elegance, of something he’d forgotten long ago.

Kohei nodded and walked in the direction of the escalator. What ensued was probably the longest shopping spree Ryo had ever known, with Kohei dragging him from store to store, seemingly buying whatever he wanted. He asked Ryo for his opinions on certain things, like which shade of red suited him best, as if all the jackets didn’t all look the same to him. Kohei eyed a certain one, running his hands down the sleeves.

“You want that one?”

“No. It’d look good on you, though.”

Ryo shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I don’t have any money, Kohei.”

“Who said you were paying?”

“What?”

“Let me buy this for you,” Kohei said insistently. He stared at Ryo, something telling him that if he refused Kohei’s proposition the results would be much worse than the guilt of receiving such an expensive gift.

“Okay,”

Kohei checked out and added the jacket to his already growing number of bags, most of which had been handed off to him. Ryo gaped at the receipt, the amount of yen more than his family had made in months. And Amagai Kohei had the privilege to spend it all in one day. Ryo didn’t know how to feel, so he swallowed whatever feelings were building in his stomach, instead focusing on whatever irrelevant thing Kohei was talking about.

The day ended on a good note, even if Ryo’s mind wasn’t free from thought. They ate together again, Ryo’s stomach fuller than it had been in weeks, and for once he felt like everything was back to normal. It was like they’d never been apart, never had a rift in the first place. He could only hope it would last. Ryo didn’t want to go home, but his arms were aching, he had a headache from all the bright signs, and he could feel his body tiring.

Kohei noticed and made the executive decision to finally leave. The sky was darkening now, the air colder than it had been, and Kohei handed him the bag with the jacket in it once they entered the car.

Ryo tried his hardest not to make eye contact with his father, who was also doing the same. Kohei either was oblivious to this or simply didn’t bring it up, and Ryo couldn't decide which one was worse.

“Take him home.”

Ryo stayed silent, only hoping his father continued to be as discreet as possible. He only nodded and started the car, and Kohei continued talking to him like nothing was wrong.

When they reached his house, Ryo swallowed the knot in his throat, reaching for the handle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Somehow he got the words out, and Kohei nodded.

His father opened the door before he could, making his arm jerk,  and Ryo glanced up at him, trying to keep his face expressionless. His father remained with his head bowed as he got out, obedient as ever.

“Ryo,” Kohei called out after him. He turned back, staring into the car. “I had fun today.”

“...I did too,” Ryo smiled back. “See you,”

He walked away then, counting the steps toward his door to distract him from how strange he felt. Once he was inside, Ryo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He peered out the small window, watching the limo drive away, and sighed.

He was more tired than he’d ever been, and even more confused. He toed off his shoes, glancing in the direction of his mother, who was passed out across the kitchen table, bottle in hand. He didn’t bother waking her, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. She wasn’t conscious most of the time he was home, and Ryo couldn’t blame her. Their lives weren’t good, hadn’t been in a very long time.

But Ryo knew that now Kohei was looking after him, he wouldn’t be living like this much longer.

&&&

Ryo had not had a good day like he’d expected. Sure, there’d been Amagai, but he’d had to leave early to attend one of his father’s business meetings, leaving Ryo to hold down the fort. Some old punks from Nami High had tried to jump him on the way home, his uniform had ripped again, and he hadn’t eaten since the night before, on account of being too busy.

It was starting to get dark out, as he walked down the street, a slight limp in his legs. Truth be told, he still hadn’t fully recovered from the fight at Senomon, and it showed. Getting into a new fight every day didn’t help, but it couldn’t be avoided. He saw the familiar flashing lights of a convenience store on the corner, and he picked up the pace. He quickly checked his pockets, finding just enough yen to get him at least half a meal.

As he walked in, the owner started to greet him, but quickly averted his eyes after Ryo glared at him. He wasn't in the mood. Ryo rushed down the aisles until he found what he was looking for. Today hadn’t been what he’d expected, but maybe food would fix it.

However, life had a funny way of screwing him over. Standing next to him in the aisle was Takajo Tsukasa.

Ryo cursed inwardly. Of all the places he could've chosen. He hoped Tsukasa wouldn’t notice him, but it failed. The other boy looked over at him, expression unchanged. He was still wearing a cast, his face half covered in bandages. Tsukasa was the one who broke the silence.

“You’re holding up well.”

Ryo paused for a second before responding. “Wish I could say the same about you.”

Tsukasa chuckled bitterly to himself. “How’s mister nepo baby treating you?” Ryo could hear the pure disdain in his voice.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I think it is, considering you stuck with him even after all that shit in the gym. Fujio almost died.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t your fault. You saved him. For that, I’m grateful.”

Ryo nodded, picking up the cheapest meal he could find. Tsukasa fumbled with a similar one, grimacing before Ryo picked it up for him.

“Let me,”

“Thanks,” Tsukasa said, seeming a little surprised by the action but grateful nonetheless. They headed to check out, and Ryo searched his pockets for the right amount of coins, before Tsukasa pulled out a bill.

“...Thank you,” Ryo didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t mention it.” He paid for his things as well, before gesturing to one of the tables outside. “Eat together?”

Ryo nodded, and they went out together. For the first few minutes of their meal, nothing was said, Tsukasa just as hungry as he. Ryo felt bad for his earlier hostility, realizing Tsukasa didn’t mean him any harm. If anything, he was the nicest company Ryo had had in a while. Eventually, Tsukasa spoke up, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to stay there. You could transfer. We’d be happy to have you.”

Ryo jerked his head up from his food. Tsukasa couldn’t be saying what he thought he was saying. “Transfer to Oya?”

“Sure. No one would bat an eye. Well, maybe Todoroki, but who cares about him.”

“I…appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”

Tsukasa cocked his eyebrow, more concerned than anything else. “So he does have something on you.”

“Well, not anymore.”

“Care to tell me about it?” Tsukasa obviously didn’t want to pressure Ryo, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d told someone about it, if ever.

So Ryo launched into an abbreviated version of his whole life story, about how his family had once been rich just like Amagai, but had since fallen from grace, and were now basically slaves to their every whim. Maybe it was a little different from most delinquents' stories, but his family’s poverty was hardly unique in these parts.

“Wait…so you were his servant? To support your family?” Tsukasa seemed almost appalled, whatever he expected Ryo’s story to be far better than what he’d told him.

“Pretty much.”

“Are you still…doing that?”

Ryo shook his head. “It’s gotten better. We’re…. friends now.”

"That’s good.” Ryo thought for a second, the words in his mouth heavy. They were on the tip of his tongue, had been for weeks, months, years even, but he’d never spoken them aloud. He could tell Tsukasa noticed, his eyes searching Ryo’s face. “But what else?”

“...I feel like it’s not enough.”

“Eh? Why?”

Heat rushed to Ryo’s face, and he stared at the can of soda in his hands.

“Oh, so it’s like that.” Tsukasa chuckled, staring at Ryo with a smile on his face.

“Yeah.” Ryo felt petrified, his eyes glued to the table in front of him.

“Have you tried, y’know, flirting with him?”

“What? No… How do I even…”

Tsukasa sighed, almost laughing as he covered his face in his hands. “Suzaki, you can’t just sit there and expect him to get the message if you don’t do or say anything.”

“What if I ruin it? I mean, we only just fixed it. I don’t wanna make things worse by being weird.”

“Look, I don’t know how deep that guy’s emotional problems go, but it’s painfully obvious that he’s not straight, I can tell you that much.” Ryo turned his head, raising his eyebrows dumbfoundedly at Tsukasa. “Oh, please. The hair? The way he walks? All the jewelry and shit? You don’t have to worry about him being homophobic” Tsukasa paused. “And if you do, just beat him up. You know he can’t fight.” Ryo sat there dumbfounded, as Tsukasa shoveled another bite of food into his mouth. Or call me. I’ll do it for you.”

“I…I guess you’re right.” Ryo thought for a second. “How would you go about it? I mean, I don’t know what to do, to get him to…”

Tsukasa took a long swig from his drink, blinking as the solution came to him. “Play hard to get. Act like there’s someone else in your life, like you don’t give a shit about him.”

“But I don’t really feel that way.”

“He doesn’t know that.” There was a hint of a smirk on Tsukasa’s face. “He’ll come crawling back eventually. I mean, don’t you want to torture him? He deserves to suffer a little.”

“Maybe just a little,” Ryo grinned back.

Chapter Text

Kohei had never felt so strange in his life. His body ached, his hand was still basically incapacitated, his reputation was at an all-time low, and yet, he wasn’t angry. The days had passed in a melancholic way, his brain strangely silent despite everything. It was like he’d finally awoken from a deep sleep, like he was seeing the whole world anew. And it was all because of Ryo.

Kohei knew he’d never be able to make up for what he’d done to him, how he’d treated him all these years. The shame curled in his gut, its voice the same as his parents's when it reprimanded him.

You can’t do anything right, it said. Without your money, you’d be nothing.

Kohei wanted to yell that it wasn’t true, but deep down he knew he couldn’t argue with himself.

You think he’ll take you back? After everything you did? You ruined the one friendship you had.

I’ll fix it, Kohei thought to himself. I’ll be better.

You can’t do that. You’re a failure.

That was all Kohei ever was to his family, to everyone else. His confidence was a facade, a carefully crafted personality that was designed to scare others, to protect Kohei from his own thoughts. Because when he sat down and thought, things got out of hand.

He knew it wasn’t right, but he found himself drinking more often than not, the burning of the alcohol down his throat a distraction from his emotions. It would cloud his head so much until he didn’t have to think, so that he could stay in his room alone, the darkness a solace from the rest of the world. The shadows made the decorations look jagged and no longer familiar. There, no one could see him, and he couldn’t see himself. His brain would finally be quiet, but at some point, the drinks would stop working and Kohei would find himself hurling into his toilet in the early hours of the morning. Time passed slowly as he lay on the tile of his bathroom floor, the soft light of the city outside illuminating his body. His head hurt, even more than his hand, and smoking only helped slightly. When he went to extinguish the buds, he half considered putting it out on his hand, if only to feel half of the pain Ryo was likely experiencing. He was the one who deserved to hurt, not Ryo.

Eventually, Kohei woke from his daze after almost a week, deciding it was time to return to school. His parents hadn’t batted an eye when he didn’t go, probably assuming he was sick again. All the comfort in the world couldn’t replace the lack of compassion Kohei was used to at home. He could probably amputate a leg and his parents wouldn’t notice or care.

Surprisingly, after he got all ready, the familiar weight of his jewelry on his skin, he felt better. When Kohei looked in the mirror he didn’t feel as lost. Sure, he looked tired, but it was nothing a little makeup couldn’t fix. Kohei stared at his own reflection for a while, added things until he was finally comfortable with his own face.

He'd never been able to do things alone, he knew that now. But Kohei was only just realizing that being with someone else didn’t make you weaker like his parents had taught him. As he’d looked at Hanaoka and all his friends, his stupid smile, and the way they rallied behind him, he’d known, in an instant, what he’d been missing. If he and Ryo fought together, they would be unstoppable. Not as master and servant, but as friends. And once they did, the three-school alliance would be done for. When he’d returned to Senomon, revenge had been the last thing on Kohei’s mind though, a new feeling kindling inside of him. He may have lost, but he had regained something valuable in the process.

Kohei promised himself he would be better for Ryo. He had to.

&&&

What was most surprising about Kohei’s return was that Ryo’s behavior was mostly the same. He was still quiet and reserved as always. But Kohei was tired of that. He wanted to see the real Ryo, the one he kept locked away.

It didn’t matter how many lunches he had to buy him, or how many days out they had to spend together, Kohei needed to see it. Ryo had been through a lot, he knew that. He’d never been the most sociable even as a kid. Kohei knew he was a lot, that he hadn’t been the kindest to him in the past. He could only hope he wasn’t giving Ryo whiplash with his new improved behavior.

As the weeks passed by, Kohei could feel things were improving. Ryo was no longer afraid to ask questions, to talk to him, to speak for him, even. Whenever he smiled, Kohei smiled too, and whatever Ryo wanted to do or wherever he wanted to go, he complied. On top of all of it, Ryo wore the jacket he’d bought him often, and every time Kohei saw it his chest felt warm inside. It was like he was wearing a marker, one that said that he belonged to Kohei and Kohei alone.

He felt stupid when he asked for Ryo’s opinion on clothes himself, knowing full well Ryo had lived out of the cradle of luxury so long that it meant nothing to him, but he did it anyway. He wasn’t going to let Ryo starve, not like his good-for-nothing father did. Kohei couldn’t imagine what it was like to live at home with someone who’d sold you out, he didn’t dare ask. As long as Mr. Suzaki kept his head down and his mouth shut, Kohei would tolerate him. He would catch Ryo glancing at his father now and then, which made him angry for some reason. Kohei soon got the idea that one day, he should drive Ryo on his own, if only so they could really talk.

Then Kohei got a better idea.

“You…want me at your house?” The other boy looked shocked, and Kohei couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Ryo so confused.

“Why not? Just for a bit, I usually go out on the weekends anyway. My parents won’t be around either.”

Ryo looked at him, and Kohei could tell he was weighing his options. “Sounds good,” He finally said, and Kohei smiled.

“Great,” Ryo smiled back, and Kohei’s stomach flipped. “I’ll pick you up then.”

The day in question arrived, and Kohei had to fight himself to get out of bed and not chicken out. He didn’t know why he felt so weird. He wasn’t showing Ryo all of his family’s secrets. They were just doing something normal friends did. There was nothing strange about it, so he shouldn’t feel bad. Right?

He’d gotten the address of the Suzaki home from his father, which prompted his parents to respond “Can you believe they still have a house,” and “It’s a wonder they’ve survived this long,”  The whole conversation left Kohei feeling sick to his stomach, but he bore it only to finally figure out where Ryo slept at night.

It was a ways outside of the city, farther than Kohei had expected from Senomon. He’d have to ask how early Ryo woke up to arrive at the school before he did, with a distance like this. The buildings around him gradually lessened in quality, until he’d entered a new world. His GPS wasn’t wrong, but Kohei couldn’t believe the Suzakis had fallen this far. The house that supposedly belonged to them wasn’t much of a house, and it appeared to him like a strong gust of wind would be enough to topple it.

Nevertheless, Kohei honked, and in a matter of seconds, Ryo was walking down the driveway toward him. He stopped, once he realized Kohei was driving. He hadn’t been behind the wheel in a long time, and it felt strange. Kohei was used to other people driving him around. But today, he wanted it to be different. Today he felt like showing off.

Kohei looked up at him, excitement already flowing through his veins. “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

Ryo stared at him with wide eyes, but his expression quickly changed, as he opened the door to the passenger seat. Kohei was quick to turn the car around and drive in the opposite direction, lightly bumping a trash bag on the way down. Ryo noticed, poking his head out of the window.

“When’d you get this car?”

“For my birthday, a few years ago,”

“Aren’t you worried about scuffing it?”

“Not when I can buy ten more,” Kohei said, keeping his eyes on the road. It was a nice sports car, a sort of bribe from his father, and Kohei rarely took it out. It was a wonder he hadn’t wrecked it, almost as unbelievable as the fact that it hadn’t been scrapped yet, but Kohei was smart enough to not park it out on the street. He knew it was a stark reminder of how different their lives were, what Ryo could’ve been if his family hadn’t descended into poverty. But he also knew Ryo would appreciate him being honest, and Kohei was done lying. “Have you eaten yet?”

Ryo shook his head. “Not since last night.”

“No breakfast?” Kohei asked incredulously. “What, is there no food on the table?” He laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but he should have known better than to joke about Ryo’s quality of life.

“Not lately,”

Kohei wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t directly his fault, but he still felt bad. “I’ll talk to my Dad, see what I can do.”

“Ah, you don’t-”

“Your family deserves to live. And I don’t think you can hardly call living in a shack and starving living.”

Ryo stared at him earnestly, before nodding. “Thanks.”

The rest of the drive was mostly quiet, which gave Kohei more time to focus on driving, and navigating a city he wasn’t yet familiar with. Why his family moved here, he would never know, but he wasn’t complaining. The SWORD area was fun, even if it was full of good-for-nothing hoodlums who roamed the streets in search of a purpose they would never have.

Kohei started to dread showing Ryo around his house, knowing it was on a whole different level from what Ryo was used to. For once, being filthy rich was starting to feel shameful. He tried to swallow the weird feeling in his stomach when he drove into his family’s private gated neighborhood, and up the driveway to his home. He took a deep breath and got out of the car, looking back at Ryo as he gaped at his home.

“So you moved out of the old mansion?”

Kohei shrugged. “Dad wanted to be closer to his business deals. He got the house through a real estate negotiation.” The house was grand, that was for sure. It wasn’t like the traditional houses that other families had preferred, a far cry from Kuryu’s massive base, but it was impressive nonetheless, its modernity a stark contrast to some of the other mansions on the block. Most of it glimmered white, and the new house smell had never really left, simply overtaken by the expensive art pieces his mother insisted on decorating the lobby with. Kohei knew one of them cost more than the Suzaki family made in a year.

He was surprised Ryo remembered his old house, the one with the ornate wood detailing, but if Ryo was flipping out over the exterior of this one, he was going to lose it when he saw the marble flooring. And the stairs. And the chandeliers. He supposed his family might be a level above filthy rich at this point. Personally, Kohei preferred houses that didn’t look like big white clusters of blocks, but he lived in one, so he wasn’t complaining.

They walked in, and Kohei shrugged his shoes off, stopping and waiting for Ryo to do the same. “You wanna see my room first, or do you want food? I can get the chef to make us something.”

“We can go to your room.”

Kohei gave him a rundown of the house while they walked up the stairs, Ryo walking a footstep behind him still. Kohei desperately wanted to tell him to stop doing that, but he remembered that he’d drilled it into Ryo from day one of his employment, and he knew old habits died hard. Especially since Ryo had been so well trained.

Ryo didn’t gawk as much as he’d expected, probably remembering his glory days of being a mansion-bound kid himself, something that Kohei wondered if he still secretly desired. He knew Ryo just wanted to stay with him, that it was all that mattered to him, but Kohei wanted to provide for him now. Maybe, once they were out of school, he could become Kohei’s bodyguard and could live with him. The idea was far-fetched, but Kohei wanted to keep Ryo as close as possible. As stupid as it sounded, he didn’t know if he could live without him again.

“So uh…this is it,” Kohei said as he turned the doorknob, opening the door. His room had been cleaned up and was in better shape than it had been since his mental crisis the weeks before, but it still felt incredibly intimate to let Ryo in. He was hoping Ryo wouldn’t look too closely at some of the carpet stains left behind from the liquor Kohei’d bought that had been particularly stubborn and refused to rub out of the fabric. It was considerably darker than the rest of the house, and there were boxes of shoes overflowing out of the walk-in closet in the corner, on top of the clutter he’d tried to push to the sides. Kohei hadn’t let the help in his room in weeks, simply because he didn’t trust them, and the state of his room didn’t matter much anyway, because it didn’t get visitors. Until now.

Instead what drew Ryo’s eye was the view, the large, full-length windows to the west of the room overlooking the city. From there, you could see everything, an endless span of tiled roofs and factories before him. It made Kohei feel like he was sitting on a throne above the world, one that he was now going to share with Ryo.

The door to the veranda was ajar, and Ryo stepped through it, his hands finding the metal railing.

Ryo’s hair moved slightly with the breeze, a pensive expression on his face. “You really do sit above the rest of the world.” He remarked. “It must be lonely up here.”

Kohei looked at him, caught off-guard. “Yeah, sometimes.”

It won’t be anymore, not with you here.

Ryo turned back to him, and the moment ended abruptly. “So you said you had a chef?”

&&&

Having Ryo around, without the same power imbalance, was a strange, but welcome surprise. He felt with every meal they shared, with each thing they did together, they came closer to being the same as they were as children. Ryo joining him in the limo after school became a routine, and every day ended with something new.

The other students noticed pretty quickly, but they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut at the very least. Kohei knew many of them were stewing in contempt for him, and to see him treat another student with higher regard wasn’t helping, but there was nothing they could do about it. They were all cowards, Ryo was not.

Bit by bit, Kohei felt things were healing between them. Nothing was perfect, that was for sure, but he was still going to keep trying. He could tell Ryo was still keeping a few things from him, but so was he. Kohei was learning that vulnerability was a two-way street. Which sometimes led to him feeling like ripping his skin off if only to distract himself from his embarrassment. But he knew the momentary pain would be worth it if he got to see Ryo’s smile.

Kohei noticed that Ryo had a curious habit of disappearing every other day around the same time, always with the same excuse. Working out, he said. It sounded like a load of bullshit. He didn’t want to push at first, but it had become a habit, and eventually, Kohei wanted to get to the bottom of it. Was there some secret girlfriend? Gambling, perhaps? Or maybe Ryo was extorting the underclassmen, though that might have been a long shot. Kohei started to ask around, and found out Ryo never left the campus.

“He’s probably in the weight room again. That’s where he usually goes.” One of the students said, averting his eyes from Kohei as he was interrogated.

“The what?” Kohei didn’t even know they had a weight room. Though he’d never really done an in-depth tour of the school, that was for sure. He was sure there were plenty of places the students liked to hide from him in.

Saboten spoke up.“You know, the room next to the- You know what, I’ll show you.”

“How come you didn’t show me before?” Kohei scoffed.

Saboten shrugged. “You never asked.”

“Just because I don’t ask doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.” He could tell that Saboten rolled his eyes at that, but the other boy led him through the halls to the room. It was on the far side near the gym, somewhere Kohei never walked because he was always in the loft anyway. The door was covered in graffiti, like most of the surfaces at the school, but thankfully it still looked like it opened normally. Many of the doors had been ripped off their hinges during the siege, adding to the already momentous pile of garbage outside.

“I guess he’s supposed to be in here.”

“I’ll find out myself.” Kohei pushed the doors open, and sure enough, Ryo was there, the sound of his hits against the punching bag in the corner echoing through the room. The few other students in there cleared out as soon as they spotted Kohei, and Ryo noticed, ceasing his practice and turning around.

“Don’t you ever get tired of training?” He said, his voice echoing slightly in the large room. It annoyed Kohei somehow, to see someone so dedicated to something they were barely getting paid for. Secretly, it impressed him, knowing how hard Ryo worked and how he hadn’t given up after all this time. There was no room at the top for slackers. It took effort to be that good, he knew that. But it didn’t stop him from being slightly jealous.

Ryo didn’t respond, only glancing over at him once before going back to hitting the punching bag. He walked closer, leaning on the wall, staring at Ryo once again.

“I mean, why practice on a dummy when you can find some other student to beat up?”

Ryo hit the dummy again, and Kohei stared at the veins in his exposed arms, feeling the heat rise to his face. Ryo had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, giving Kohei a nice view of his biceps, and the muscles in his shoulders that Kohei had only seen glimpses of under his uniform.

“Practicing on this means I keep my form.”

Kohei nodded, trying to keep his eyes focused on Ryo’s face instead. “Form? What, did you take martial arts before or something?”

Ryo nodded, and Kohei cocked his head. Yet another thing he hadn’t learned about Ryo yet.

“I can teach you some if you want.”

“I’m good.”

The punches finally stopped, and Ryo stared at him, his expression serious. “If you don’t want to lose to Takajo again, you need to train.” It would’ve sounded patronizing coming from anyone else, but Ryo was being sincere.

“You know I don’t want to fight that prick again.”

“But you might.”

Kohei couldn’t bring himself to say no when Ryo looked at him like that. “...Fine.”

Ryo smiled, and Kohei shed his jacket onto the floor. Ryo’s gaze followed his movements in a way that made his stomach churn, but Kohei ignored it as best he could. Ryo was right, he needed to learn how to fight properly. He could deal with his intrusive thoughts later.

What started as harmless sparring had spiraled, admittedly, into something more, after an hour. Kohei was determined to get the upper hand on Ryo, even though he’d been thrown onto the ground countless times. He didn’t know how Ryo always had the strength to get back up no matter what and had never thought about how much dedication it took. His body ached, but at the same time, he craved it, wanting to keep fighting. Maybe this was the high that the other delinquents talked about, what drove them to start useless fights day in and day out. Kohei had never understood it, had always thought it was about power, but now he knew he’d been wrong. Being with Ryo was enough to provide him with seemingly endless stamina, even though he was sure his arms and legs would be bruised the following day.

When they finally stopped, Kohei’s chest was heaving, his muscles thrumming with energy. Ryo was the same, his forehead beaded with sweat, and Kohei watched out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead. He lay on the ground, letting his pulse settle, before finally talking again.

“Where do you wanna go for dinner?”

“Oh, I…already have plans,” Ryo said softly. “I should’ve told you, sorry.”

“With who?” Ryo didn’t have other friends. There was no one else he should be eating with except Kohei.

“Does it matter?”

“It does, if it's someone who’s not from the school,” Kohei said. “It’s not that Fujio guy, is it?”

Ryo stared at him darkly, and Kohei was almost afraid to speak again. He knew Ryo would never hurt him, couldn’t, but the thought remained. He’d seen firsthand what damage Ryo’s fists could do, and he prayed he was never on the receiving end.

“Forget it,” Kohei left the room, digging his hands into his pockets. If Ryo didn’t want to spend time with him he could’ve just said so.

The halls were mostly empty, and Kohei went searching for Saboten. The guy was horrible company, but at least he was a distraction. Though Kohei was tired of paying for expensive bottles of alcohol that tasted like piss whenever they went out. He found him sprawled on the gym couch, attempting to twirl a butterfly knife in his hands yet again. The buffoon had been trying for a month now to get the hang of it, and yet he still couldn’t do it. The knife fell to the floor when Kohei entered the room, and Saboten’s focus pulled away from his mundane hobby. Saboten reached for the knife, but Kohei picked it up off the floor swiftly.

“I don’t know why you try, you’re not getting any better. Might as well give up.” He sneered, twirling the knife perfectly in his hands. Saboten sputtered, reaching for it, but Kohei scowled, and in a moment of impulsivity, chucked the knife over the railing with all of his strength.

“Hey! That cost me a lot of yen,” Saboten exclaimed, and Kohei rolled his eyes.

“So buy another one. I give you money.”

“Not enough,” The guy muttered under his breath.

Kohei jerked his head around. “I don’t see you doing much work around here. You don’t deserve more.”

“What, because I don’t let you push me around like you used to do to Suzaki? I know you’re friends now, but-”

“But what?” Saboten clammed up, his face full of fear. “Spit it out.”

“I mean…don’t you think you should keep him on a tighter leash? The other schools know about him now, he might leave.”

For once Saboten had a point, and Kohei stared into space for a few seconds. Ryo wouldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t. He promised. And yet, he was going to eat with god knows who, (though Kohei suspected it was indeed Fujio and his stupid group of friends) which made Kohei…scared. Ryo was his pride and joy, the one thing that made Senomon stand out, that made his existence at this school less miserable. They were partners, he could leave.

Kohei turned back to Saboten, who was looking at him inquisitively. “He’s not a dog. He can go where he wants,” His voice was quieter, it had lost the venom from before. Kohei didn’t feel like explaining anymore, and left Saboten alone again, kicking an empty beer can around on the way down the stairs.

The night passed companionless, Kohei not bored enough to resort to calling any of the dipshits in his phone who would leave his wallet lighter. Nor did he feel like going on a date, or finding some other girl to spend the night with. Every girl he had ever dated or fooled around with had fit a mold, they had all wanted one thing from him, and they had never made him feel like Ryo made him feel. Ryo was nothing like them.

He was tall, lanky, made of lean muscle concealed by his old ill-fitting uniform. His skin was no doubt covered in scars and bruises, as most delinquents were. His face barely showed emotion, a stark contrast to the giggly girls Kohei would pick up at parties, who laughed at everything he said even if it wasn’t funny.

He was nothing like them, and yet- Kohei wanted him. Wanted him so much it hurt. He didn’t know what he was feeling, he only knew that if he didn’t do something soon he was going to regret it. Never before had he wanted someone to love him so badly, to see him for what he truly was, to take him apart completely and put him back together again. Sleep did not provide relief from his emotional turmoil, Kohei’s dreams plagued by attempt after attempt to start the conversation he dreaded, or worse, fleeting images of him and Ryo entangled together that left him hot and needy. He’d tried to lay off the alcohol, he really had, but he couldn’t stay away from it when he felt like this. No one noticed when things went missing from the fridge anyway, what was one or two bottles?

His parents would never approve if he told them. That he’d found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. They wanted him to continue the family line, with someone “eligible” in their eyes. A loveless marriage, just like theirs. Not with one of the servants. But they never had to know, or maybe they wouldn’t care. They hadn’t cared when he’d spent his entire childhood trying to impress them, or when he’d thrown parties while they were out on business trips. They barely paid attention to him and his antics, even when he intentionally screwed up, pushing more cash in his face like it solved anything. Kohei suspected he could set himself on fire and they wouldn’t even bat an eye.

Why would they care if he went and loved a boy? Not just any boy, but the one person in his life who had ever truly cared for him? Ryo was all he had left, the only tie to the world that he cared about. And Kohei would do anything to keep him near him.

Chapter Text

​

Tsukasa, for one, was starting to get fed up with Kohei’s antics, but Ryo couldn’t blame him. Even if he’d accepted his feelings, Ryo was still scared. Distancing himself had only made Kohei gloomier, and he didn’t miss the look he gave Ryo when he was headed out to see Tsukasa.

​

“But he is getting annoyed, isn’t he?” Tsukasa asked him, as they walked together one evening. The park they were in was more of a glorified dumping ground for trash than a park, but so was most of the city. Ryo hadn’t been so close to Oya territory before, though he knew he was safe with Tsukasa.

​

“Yeah, I guess.”

​

“Good. He should have to work for it.”

​

“I don’t like making him feel like he has to compete for my time…”

​

“You and I both know that half the schools in this city would die to have you. He knows that. And if he wants to be more than friends, he should have to make an effort. You could leave at any time, right?”

​

“Sure,”

​

“So he’s scared. The more scared he gets, the more desperate he’ll get. And then you can make a move.”

​

“I feel like you’re just telling me this because you don’t like him.” Ryo had to resist the urge to remind Tsukasa that not everyone was just able to ask out their best friend and get away with it. Maybe it had been easier for him because he and Fujio had the same economic standing.

​

Tsukasa shrugged, smiling. “Maybe. But with what he’s done to you, you can’t blame me.”

​

“No,”

​

“Your hand heal up?”

​

“Yeah, but it scarred.”

​

“Eh, that’s to be expected. It’s a wonder you didn’t tear a ligament or something.”

​

“The knife wasn’t that sharp.”

​

“It cut through that rope.”

​

Ryo shrugged. Knives were knives.

​

Tsukasa sighed, as if he were mulling over something, before speaking again. “So…I’ve been thinking.” Ryo nodded. “I talked it over with Fujio, and he wants you to come to Oya. ”

​

“What? Me?”

​

“Look, just to see what it’s like. And to talk. He wants that rematch just as much as you do. But he wants it on good terms.”

​

“I don’t know if Amagai would let me go-” Ryo started, but the blonde boy interrupted him.

​

“Who said you need to tell him? Just say you’re going on a walk or your mom is sick or something.”

​

“But-”

​

“Fujio’s not stupid. He knows Amagai doesn’t treat you right. I don’t care if you’re saying he’s changed."

​

“I’ll think it over.”

​

“Good,”

​

Ryo wasn’t usually afraid of other delinquents, much less those from Oya High, but the prospect of going there after he’d only recently been fighting with them was less than favorable. Who knew what would happen, what people would say? And if word got to Kohei, things were bound to go south. On the other hand, Senomon wasn’t any better. None of the underclassmen were really loyal, and if he slipped up once, the fragile control he and Kohei had created would shatter. In that case, seeing the other side never hurt. Maybe it was finally time to make a visit to Oya High.

​

&&&

​

Tsukasa met him a little ways away from the school, on a bridge over one of the many rivers of god-knows-what running through the district. His sullen expression lightened when he saw Ryo, and he waved. The boy’s injuries were almost completely healed, and the only reminder of the fight that was left was the slight yellow bruising under Tsukasa’s eyes.

​

“Hey,” Ryo said, stopping before him.

​

“Hey.” Tsukasa looked him up and down, noticing his clothes. “No uniform?”

​

“I thought it would be better if I didn’t wear it.”

​

“It doesn’t matter either way. All the guys know your face.”

​

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

​

“You wanted a rematch, right? So does Fujio. And if you’re worried about the others, I’ll make sure no one touches you.”

​

Ryo nodded in thanks, and they were off. The Oya district was different from his, still not in great shape, but there was an air of life that the city around Senomon lacked. Ryo wasn’t very familiar with it, but Tsukasa answered all his questions, and he even had some of his own.

​

“Have you given it any more thought? Transferring, I mean.”

​

Ryo went silent, thinking for a second. “I…I want to stay. I think Kohei needs me. And the commute is too far anyway.”

​

Tsukasa nodded. “I understand.”

​

“I’ll graduate soon. Once I do, I can probably come here more often.”

​

“Yeah, but who actually graduates? Our old leader was at Oya for like 4 years overdue.”

​

Ryo raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know if it's the same at Senomon.”

​

“I get it. You’re tired of being a student. Once you’re not, you can get an actual job, instead of being with Amagai.”

​

Ryo didn’t want to tell Tsukasa that Kohei would probably just give him another job anyway. He had no intention of leaving now. Ryo didn't get to respond because when they turned the next corner, the old school building came into view.

​

Oya wasn’t any better looking than Senomon, but what stood out to Ryo was the large gate in the front.

​

“I would have brought you in the back way, but I figured you might want a grand tour,” Tsukasa said. ‘C’mon.” He gestured for Ryo to follow him, and he did, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. Ryo had only met the full-time students, he had no idea what would happen when he met the others.

​

For a few minutes while they were entering the school, nothing happened. There weren’t many students on the first floor or in the courtyard, and no one noticed Ryo’s presence. It wasn’t until they climbed the junk-cluttered stairs that people started to realize what was going on.

​

“Hey, isn’t that-”

​

“What’s he doing in our school?!”

​

The whispers got louder, but if anyone said anything too brash, Tsukasa gave them a glare. Ryo focused on walking as quietly down the hall as possible. The school itself was not unlike Senomon in its disrepair, but it was considerably older. The graffiti on the walls was layered and cemented in a layer of grime that would probably take bottles of cleaner to remove. There was no need for chairs, most of them broken anyway, and they had been strewn out in the halls. Every now and then, they would pass a sculpture of sorts, made of the piles of furniture from years past. Ryo didn’t know where Tsukasa was leading him, as they turned corner after corner, and a crowd had started to amass behind them. Ryo kept his head down, even as familiar faces poked their heads out.

​

“Takajo.” Someone spoke out, and Tsukasa’s head turned. “You should know better than to bring him in here.” It was the tall one, whose glasses were now fully intact. Behind him, his two cronies, whom Ryo hadn’t bothered to learn the names of. There were too many people at this school anyway. He sneered at Ryo, but he held his gaze.

​

“Ryo can handle himself.”

​

“Did you tell Fujio?”

​

“He knows.” Tsukasa gave the other boy one last look before beckoning Ryo further. They climbed yet another flight of stairs before they reached the top of the school. It wasn’t a very windy day, but the sky was overcast and dull, like it usually was near industrial areas. It was the same sky as Senomon. There were a few students there, but far off in the corner, Ryo spotted Fujio.

​

“You. Out.” Tsukasa ordered, and the students narrowed their eyes at Ryo, but complied. Fujio turned, and in an instant, he was halfway across the roof and beaming at Ryo.

​

“You made it! I was worried you’d get lost.”

​

Ryo nodded, not sure if he should smile back. They weren’t supposed to be this friendly. But Ryo had saved Fujio, and that must’ve meant something to him.

​

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Tsukasa said, smirking before heading to the stairs. Ryo’s eyes remained glued to the ground, face passive.

​

“So…Tsukasa tells me you’re doing better.”

​

“Something like that.”

​

Fujio cocked his head, staring at Ryo for a few seconds. “You look better.”

​

Ryo shrugged. “I didn’t have that much healing to do.”

​

“There was your hand,” Fujio said, his smile dropping. He grabbed Ryo’s wrist suddenly, but Ryo didn’t stop him. He turned his hand over to look at the palm, the long, pale scar stretching across it. “It’s not that bad.” He stared a bit longer before looking up at Ryo’s face. “I never said thank you, you know.”

​

“You don’t have to thank me. I just did what was right.”

​

“Still, compared to Amagai, I mean…” Fujio stopped. “You know what I’m talking about. He’s a bit…”

​

“He’s working on it,” Ryo said, desperately wanting to change the subject. He knew Kohei had some screws loose, but didn’t they all? No one could really blame him; everyone had been through something. But he at least had money to fall back on. “How have you been?”

​

“We’re recovering. The battle was hard on everybody.”

​

“I’m sorry.”

​

Fujio shrugged apologetically. “That’s how it always is. Though hopefully if we fight again, it’ll be less intense.” Though Ryo had no doubt that Kohei was planning revenge, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a part of it now. “I know our schools will still technically be enemies for a bit, but I want you to know I don’t have any hard feelings.”

​

“Really?

​

“You actually understand what fighting is, what it means. Amagai doesn’t. But maybe you can teach him. He doesn’t seem like he has many friends.”

​

“We used to be closer.”

​

“Tsukasa told me about that.” Fujio went silent, staring at the sky, before turning back to Ryo. “If being around him makes you happy, then maybe it’s worth it.”

​

“I want to try,” Ryo sighed. “I know deep down he’s just scared.”

​

“Aren’t we all,” Fujio said. He walked over to the railing and stared out into the distance. Ryo followed, the wind licking at his hair ever so slightly. The other boy was quiet for a moment, as if mulling something over, before speaking again. “He has something on you, though, right?”

​

Ryo glanced at him, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t like telling people what happened. Even though Kohei used to brag about it to get attention, as if it were an achievement. “You could say that.”

​

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I was just wondering. Tsukasa’s been real cagey.” And thank god for that, Ryo thought to himself. “But if it's some really serious shit, we’d be happy to help. No one deserves to be treated that way. That’s not what fighting is about.”

​

“It’s a long story.” Ryo started, not sure where to go from there. He knew Fujio only wanted to help, and that if he and Kohei hadn’t reconciled, he might take him up on that offer. “My family used to be like his. Powerful. Rich. I don’t remember much of it, if I'm being honest. But we lost it all, and his family took us in. For a price, of course.” Fujio nodded, expression serious again. “My dad is their driver. But he wasn’t enough, so I became Kohei’s…” He drifted off, searching for the right word, but it never came.

​

Whatever Fujio had been imagining was far from what was spoken, Ryo was sure. “That’s…wow.”

​

“By that point, I hadn’t seen him in years. And he’d changed. I thought maybe, if I did well enough, fought hard enough, he would-”

​

“Accept you.” Fujio finished.

​

“Right.”

​

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, the silence growing.

​

“So does he?”

​

Ryo turned to the other boy, staring at him. No doubt Fujio had been through similar things to him, but he looked so much more cheerful, so full of life. Ryo had always envied people like that. The little life he did have was stolen from him at a young age.

​

“Now he does.”

​

They stood there for a while, the cool breeze a nice distraction from the heaviness of the conversation. Eventually, one of them spoke up again.

​

“Do you still want a rematch?” Ryo said quietly.

​

“Of course I do! That wasn’t a proper fight, you know.”

​

Ryo chuckled. “I guess not. We’ll have to have an official meeting, though.”

​

“Say the word, and Tsukasa and I will be there.”

​

Ryo smiled, and Fujio beamed back in a way that only he knew how to. It wasn’t hard to believe that he’d been able to rally so many people behind him when he was this nice. If Ryo weren’t so committed to Senomon and Kohei, Oya would have been a nice place to be.

​

He bowed, because he didn’t know what else to do. “Thank you for having me.”

​

“Yeesh, you’re so formal, no one does that,” Fujio laughed. Seeing his smile made Ryo giggle too, and the grin didn’t leave his face even after the other boy walked him to the front of the school.

​

&&&

​

“Let’s go out tonight,” Kohei said suddenly. They were both in his room, sprawled out on the floor reading magazines. Ryo had been so engrossed in his he’d barely registered what Kohei said.

​

“Where to?”

​

“You’ve never been clubbing, have you? I can get us into some of the best in the city,” Kohei was smiling again, but it was the sort of smile he had when he was bragging about something, as if he needed to around Ryo.

​

“Alright,” Ryo agreed apprehensively. He glanced at the clock and realized how late it was. He’d spent the whole afternoon after school at the Amagai estate, he and Kohei doing whatever piqued their interest. Dinner had come and gone, and Ryo still hadn’t been sure if he should return home or not. But it was Friday, and the weekend didn’t really have any limits anymore. His parents didn’t care how late he came home now, still downing the same amount of cheap alcohol, and blaring the same shows on the old-as-shit TV. The only attention he got was when he slapped down his weekly pay on the table, which he felt almost as bad about dishing out as he did when he received it.

​

Kohei seemed preoccupied with things other than dysfunctional parental figures, gazing at his reflection in the mirror in his room. “I need to get my roots done soon,” He sighed. As Ryo watched Kohei fidget with his hair, he silently wished it could be his fingers running through it and not Kohei’s. He got up and stared into the mirror next to him, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket absentmindedly.

​

“...I think it’s nice.”

​

“My dad hates it. He says it’s too long.” Kohei chuckled. He turned to Ryo, eyeing him. “You should dye yours.”

​

“Really?” Ryo looked at him, glancing down at himself. “...What should I do?”

​

Kohei reached out to touch him, brushing his hair out of his face, almost like a caress, his fingers surprisingly gentle. Usually, if Kohei was touching someone else’s hair, it was to pull it. “Blonde highlights, maybe. The peekaboo kind.” His heart was beating so hard in his chest, he prayed Kohei couldn’t hear it.

​

Ryo had no idea what he was talking about, but if Kohei liked it, then he would do it.

​

When they got into the car, Ryo tried more than ever to avoid his father’s gaze, even as Kohei listed off a bunch of places they could go, how good the alcohol was, where they could get a VIP room, and other things Ryo never had the luxury to think about. Whatever Kohei thought was best, he supposed. He nodded as if anything of those things mattered to him, though Kohei probably didn’t notice his confusion.

​

Ryo was grateful when they finally pulled in front of the club, never having been more eager to get out of the car.

​

“I’ll call for you later,” Kohei said to Ryo’s father, slamming the car door behind him. Ryo took one last glance at his father, who averted his eyes quickly as he. What little remained of their relationship had not been helped by his new treatment via Kohei. He had been spending so much time at Kohei’s lately that he’d barely been home, and the only times he’d really seen the man were in that god awful car, which might have been better if only because it spared Ryo of awkward questions when he did return.

​

The first club Kohei had chosen was an interesting one, that was for sure. It was so far out that Ryo had become doubtful it would be any good, but what did he know? It was large and smack dab in the middle of a city block, the music so loud it shook the walls from the outside. They were meeting up with some other people, though, who Ryo didn’t know. Kohei’s “friend” was at least in his mid twenties, which begged the question of how Kohei even met these people in the first place. Some other guys and two girls followed him, their names lost to the music like everything else. Nevertheless, they got in without a hitch, and Kohei headed straight for the bar. It was simultaneously too light and too dark inside, the strobes and blacklights casting strange shadows over everyone.

​

Kohei led him through the crowd to the bar, which was slightly less crowded but still loud. He said something to the bartender, but Ryo couldn’t hear over the bass of the song playing. It was so strong the floor was shaking a little, and he knew his ears would be mad at him later. He took whatever Kohei handed him and gulped it down, even as it burned his throat. Kohei was trying to talk to him, something about his connections, but Ryo could barely make it out. What he was able to decipher, he just nodded and agreed with, smiling just as wide as Kohei. As long as they were together, he was willing to try anything. And if this was what Kohei wanted to do, so would Ryo.

​

Kohei grabbed his arm after they were done drinking and led him to the dance floor, the mass of people moving as one.

​

“I don’t know how to dance,” Ryo yelled over the music.

​

“It’s not that hard,” Kohei yelled back, pulling him deeper into the throng of people. They were able to carve out a spot for themselves, next to some random other group of people. The air was so hot around him, and the music drowned out everything else. Ryo thought for a second that maybe all the yelling and noise was what Kohei liked, because it kept his brain busy and focused on other things than reality. Already he was realizing how effective it was, because whatever he’d downed had made him a lot less uptight and the world was more colorful, but less focused. Ryo didn’t care; his whole world was right in front of him.

​

Kohei looked so beautiful like this, shaded in neon lights, as they moved together. Maybe it was the liquor talking, or the loud music, but he looked almost ethereal. Everything seemed to slow, and neither of them cared where they were, who was watching. Ryo didn’t know how long they spent there; the only thing that mattered to him was how pretty Kohei’s smile was.

​

They alternated between the dance floor and the table that Kohei’s friend got, which was supplied with an endless stream of exceedingly bizarre drinks. No one seemed to care that Ryo was there either, Kohei simply introducing him as his friend and leaving it at that. It was really just a few other dopey guys and some very drunk girls at the table, whom Ryo didn’t care so much for. The clubs started to blend together, each one louder than the last. Time passed, but how much no one knew, and eventually it was time to go home, as they trudged down the dark streets, now empty of anyone except other drunken partygoers.

​

Kohei’s friends were a rowdy bunch, and Ryo got the impression that they weren’t that close to begin with, but at that point, he seemed not to care. The walk back to the limo was tumultuous, Kohei still on a high from whatever he’d been drinking, and his movements were uncoordinated and brash. Ryo didn’t need him starting any more fights this month, so he kept him close.

​

Even during the car ride back, it was like they were attached at the limb. It was obvious Kohei wasn’t sober, far from it, as he laughed at nearly everything Ryo said. Ryo had never known him to be a clingy person. It wasn’t like he was never drunk; Kohei brought alcohol to Senomon more often than not, but Ryo had never seen him like this. He could see his father’s eyes flicking back more than once during the ride, watching. Kohei was so close, too close, and he wondered if he was even aware there was someone else in the car, let alone Ryo’s dad.

​

For a second, Ryo wished he wasn’t there, that it was some other nameless chauffeur, so he didn’t have to act like he didn’t enjoy Kohei’s touch as much as he did, like the roaming hand on his thigh didn’t make blood rush to his head. But the anxiety Kohei was causing turned into something else, something stranger. He wanted to stare into the reflection of his father’s eyes, as if to rub it in his face that he had made it farther up the hierarchy than him. That he didn’t need him anymore. Not with Kohei. Kohei, who actually cared for him now.

​

He focused on prying Kohei’s hands off of him, as they both laughed. Ryo didn’t think he’d ever seen Kohei so happy, so carefree. Together, like always.

​

Getting Kohei into the house was a whole other struggle. The house was silent, no one but the service home, but Ryo still tried not to make too much noise. He was having a hard time walking in a straight line, but Kohei was even worse. It took them 5 minutes to make it up the stairs, Kohei giggling to himself the whole time, and elbowing Ryo slightly when he tried to lead him up.

​

“Y’know, we should have a bar in Senomon…”

​

“Sure, Kohei,” Ryo tried not to laugh too hard. “Who would pay for that, huh?”

​

“Meee….”

​

As he lugged Kohei across his room, he wondered how enjoyable it was to drink if you ended up like this. He had been mumbling nonsense half the way home, some phrases more coherent than others. Ryo had stopped paying attention a while ago, more focused on making sure both of them didn’t collapse. Kohei could barely stand, half leaning on Ryo’s shoulders as he dragged him to his bed. Suddenly, Kohei pulled his face toward him. “Y’know, Ryo, you’re really pretty…”  Kohei slurred in his ear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His breath was warm, and way too close.

​

“...You’re drunk.”

​

“’s not a lie.” His finger ran over Ryo’s lips softly, the touch foreign and strange. Kohei’s eyes were slightly glazed, but Ryo could tell some part of him was conscious. The smell of alcohol always disgusted Ryo, and it wasn’t any better when carried on someone’s breath. Kohei leaned forward and was just an inch away from him, but Ryo pulled back. There was a hint of betrayal in Kohei’s eyes as Ryo lay him down on the bed. “...You need to rest.” Kohei groaned in protest, but he was out like a light, leaving Ryo alone in the dark with his heart racing.

​

&&&

​

Kohei didn’t bring up what happened that night, and neither did Ryo. He doubted his friend remembered it, considering how Kohei sometimes bragged about how drunk he’d gotten in the past. In Ryo’s eyes, it wasn’t an admirable feat, getting wasted and waking up in an unfamiliar place with strangers. Part of him wondered what was going on in Kohei’s life for him to drink so much. It was common for delinquents to crack open a can every now and then, but he knew from experience that people only drank like Kohei when they had something they wanted to escape from. His father did the same thing, squandered the little checks he got for liquor to take the pain away.

​

What had held him back from kissing him was the sinking feeling in his gut that Kohei’s alcohol-addled mind wouldn’t remember, and wouldn't take it seriously.  But Ryo was sure now that if he confessed, it would be for real, and he was going to make sure Kohei wouldn't be able to forget it.

​

Now that they’d had one successful outing, he and Kohei were going out whenever possible. Shopping, restaurants, even two house parties, the list went on. Each time, Ryo felt like he was inches from the edge, that maybe this night would be the one to end it all, to put a stop to the weird place they were in. Kohei was always too close, and then not close enough, and Ryo was torn between staying the way they were and breaking the invisible wall immediately.

​

Maybe he’d been hoping this night clubbing would be like last time. If only he could’ve been right.

​

The club was more flashy than the last few, glaring white and in a weird part of town. They weren’t that far from Oya, but Ryo would never point that out to Kohei. The bouncer looked at them funny, but Kohei had yet another friend who got them in. The table they had was white, everything was white, and it made Ryo’s eyes sting. The drinking started again, this time accompanied by cloudy drinks and games as well. Ryo wondered if Kohei purposely lost so he could drink more, but he shelved that for later. He wanted to go and dance again, but they didn’t. The conversation had turned to other things, and Ryo was barely paying attention.

​

“...and I told him to bring it here, and he didn’t!” The other guy got a little too loud for Ryo’s taste, and he turned to him. The look on his face must have been angry, because the guy’s expression faltered. “Geez, what’s his problem?” The guy asked Kohei.

​

“Nothing, Ryo’s fine. Right?” He looked at Ryo, and understanding, turned to his friend. “We paid good money for that bottle, but you don’t need to scream about it,”

​

“What bottle?” Ryo asked about the music.

​

“Weren’t you paying attention?” Kohei yelled over the crowd around them, and Ryo shook his head. “Well, could you go and ask one of the workers if it's on the way? It’s the big blue one,”

​

Ryo nodded and got up, steadying himself on one of the bars near him. The lights were blurred now, but he could make out the shape of an employee through the mass of people writhing against the strobing lights.

​

When he returned to the table after sorting it out, the conversation had taken a very different direction.

​

“...so what, are you guys a thing or something?”

​

“Me and him? You’re joking. I wouldn’t be caught dead fucking him,” He heard Kohei say, and somehow he knew who he was talking about. “He just works for me, that’s all.”

​

“Oh, right, the Suzakis are under you guys, I forgot.” The ugly one laughed. “Must be nice having a personal slave,”

​

Kohei shrugged, but the smirk on his face was evident. Whether it was part of his larger-than-life persona or real, Ryo couldn’t tell.

​

“Mm, you seemed pretty close to me…I mean, the money you pay him must count for something,” The drunk girl curled on the other guy’s arm said. “Oh, look who it is!”

​

Ryo looked down at the table, and Kohei’s smile faded. Suddenly, everything was too loud again, and the bottle in his hands went crashing onto the floor. He could feel the cold liquid splash across his shoes, but he didn’t care. The glass shards splintered across the floor and onto the table, and the other yelped. Ryo took one last look and walked away as fast as possible, eyes burning and bile rising in his throat. He could hear people calling after him, but he ignored them. He should've known. Kohei hadn’t changed.

​

&&&

​

Finding his way back home was a struggle, but Ryo didn’t care. He’d walked long distances before, before Kohei drove him. The bright lights didn’t even register to him anymore, as tears streamed down his face. He knew he probably looked crazy to other onlookers, but he didn’t care. Most of them were so drunk they barely noticed. He knew his feet would take him where he needed to go. That, or the last running bus line. He felt numb, like there wasn’t anything inside of him. He felt stupid for expecting anything different, for putting any faith in Kohei.

​

Maybe that was why he ended up where they used to go when they were kids. Ryo did what he had always done and sat down on the side of the dock, staring at the water and shipping yard before him. The sun had long set, and the only lights left were from the ships in the distance. The sky was overcast, and Ryo could tell a big storm was coming. The darkness and the cold felt calming, like a comforting embrace after a long day. He was so tired. Of Kohei, of his parents, of everything.

​

How long he sat there, he didn’t know, but the tears stopped falling eventually, and he was left shivering as his chest heaved. Ryo heard a car door slamming in the distance, followed by familiar footsteps, and he didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Ryo knew Kohei would find him eventually. If he hadn’t been following him, then he still remembered. Where else would Ryo have gone? The dock was the same as ever, albeit more shabby than it had been years ago. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want to be found.  

​

“So you came all the way back here, huh?”

​

Ryo heard the familiar voice from behind, but did not turn around. Ryo stayed silent, watching the waves in front of him. The sky had grown increasingly darker, and the waves were beginning to get more choppy. Ryo had come to the conclusion while he’d been sitting there that there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t hurt Kohei or compromise their relationship. There was no fixing it; what was done was done. He’d been a fool to believe Kohei had actually cared about him. Ryo should’ve stayed a tool, like Kohei had always said. There was no point in dreaming of more.

​

“Oh, come on, Ryo, you know I didn’t mean it. Let’s go home, okay?”

​

Home? What home? The so-called “shack” he and his family lived in, or the mansion that Kohei isolated himself in? Ryo had not felt he’d had a home in a long time, and maybe Kohei was the fool to think he could replace all Ryo had lost with money and hard-earned compliments.

​

“Ryo? I’m serious, this is ridiculous.” He could tell Kohei was getting desperate now, his voice taking on a new tone. Good, he thought to himself. Let him beg. Maybe then he’ll finally understand how you feel.

​

Ryo finally spoke up, turning around. “Do you not like being around me?”

​

“What?” Kohei said. “Is this about the club? I didn’t mean-”

​

“You act like I’m some burden when you’re around other people. I thought we were different.”

​

Drops of water had started to fall from the sky, hitting the dock with increasing frequency, but Ryo didn’t care. The rain wouldn’t kill him, and he wanted to see Kohei looking not-so-polished for once.

​

“We are, I just…”

​

“You don’t want to lose face, that’s it. It’s all about reputation to you.” There was venom in Ryo's words, the same venom Kohei had used when he berated Ryo before everything had changed. He knew his words hurt, wanted them to hurt, so Kohei could know how he had felt all those months ago. Maybe it was wrong to feel this vengeful, but Ryo was done making excuses for Kohei. “I’m nothing but a tool. Something you can use, and throw away once you’re tired of me.”

​

“I-” Kohei couldn't get the rest of his words out, an expression Ryo had never seen before on his face.

​

“Would it be so bad?” Ryo said, his voice breaking. “If we were together?”

​

Or are you afraid of loving me in front of the eyes of others? The question remained unsaid, but it hung in the air, the silence deafening.

​

Ryo stared at Kohei, at how his eyes glistened and his lip trembled. The sound of the rain hitting the dock was rhythmic, like his beating heart, and the cold air nipped at his face, and tears stung his cheeks.

​

“No,” Kohei finally said. “It wouldn’t,” He clenched his fists, and Ryo could see how he was digging his nails into his hands. He walked closer until he was in Kohei’s space, staring down at him.

​

“Then what are you afraid of?”

​

Kohei’s eyes finally met his, and Ryo wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt so vulnerable. He knew after this, there was no going back, that he would never be able to leave. But Ryo wasn’t sure he wanted to. He lifted one of his hands to wipe away Kohei’s tears, his fingers running softly over the other boy’s cheek. Kohei’s gaze drifted toward his lips, and then back up again, his breath coming out in shudders now.

​

“I’m sorry,” Kohei mumbled. He was shaking now, repeating the phrase like a mantra. As if Ryo was strong enough to hold a grudge against him in the first place. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

​

The kiss was not nearly as gentle as Ryo had always imagined in his fantasies over the years, but he could feel the raw emotion behind it. Ryo wanted, needed, to show how much he cared. Kohei’s lips were warm, and his teeth bumped Ryo’s as the kiss deepened. He kissed like he was afraid he’d never get to touch Ryo again, like this was all they had. When Kohei finally pulled away, he was crying again and leaned into Ryo’s shoulder.

​

“It’s alright,” Ryo wrapped his arms around him, threading his fingers in his hair as Kohei sobbed. It wasn’t quiet, nor pretty, but Ryo would never reprimand Kohei for it. “It’s okay,” Kohei’s fingers dug into his arms, but Ryo did not stop him, instead rubbing comforting circles into his back with his hands. It was minutes before Kohei finally stopped, his breathing becoming more stable. They were both soaked by the rain now, and Kohei had started to shiver. His hair was in his face, and the waves he had were more defined now, even as they dripped water onto his clothes.

​

“Let’s go,” Ryo said softly, and Kohei took his hand as they ran back up the street towards the car. Thankfully, Kohei had driven himself and was not accompanied by Ryo’s father or the limousine. Kohei was in no condition to drive and begrudgingly handed the keys over to Ryo, even as he was nearly attached to his side. Ryo didn’t ask what had happened after he’d left, nor about his father, and simply drove. Kohei grabbed a cigarette pack from the glove compartment and promptly lit one up, shuddering as he took the first drag. He sighed as he settled into the seat, surprisingly calm even throughout Ryo’s borderline erratic driving.

​

Kohei’s room was warm, an oasis compared to the outside. He shepherded Kohei in, and they both shrugged off their wet jackets.

​

“You’re going to stay,” Kohei’s voice was near trembling again. “Aren’t you?”

​

“Of course.”

​

The other boy stared at him, eyes still glassy, but he didn’t cry again, instead dropping his jacket onto the floor.

​

“Leave yours there too, it’s fine,” Kohei said, as he reached to unbutton his shirt as well. They were both soaked to the bone, and it made sense to change, but Ryo’s face still flushed in the dark. He didn’t feel like it was appropriate to stare, not now at least. Kohei looked up at him strangely, but continued changing, almost as if he didn’t care that Ryo was there. “I have some extra clothes you can borrow. Until those ones dry.” Ryo blinked, taken aback by the response, but accepted the old pajamas regardless, still trying not to stare at Kohei’s bare chest out of respect.

​

“Thank you,” He ran his hand over the fabric, noticing how it was more worn than other clothes he’d seen Kohei wear. Considering all the new clothes Kohei bought, Ryo wondered what made him keep such things around still.

​

Kohei said nothing in response, busy unhooking all the jewelry from around his neck. He glanced at Ryo, noticing how his gaze was averted, an amused look on his face.

​

“You can stare. I don’t mind.”

​

Ryo’s words got caught in his throat, and whatever he meant to say was erased in an instant. “I’ll go change,” Ryo ducked into the bathroom, his pulse racing. When he returned, Kohei was lying on the bed on his side, staring out the window pensively. Ryo walked over and sat beside him.

​

“You should sleep,” He reached out and petted Kohei’s head, his hair damp but soft to the touch. Kohei leaned into it, sighing lightly.

​

“So should you,” He turned and nodded toward the blanket. “I hope you don’t think we’re moving too fast.”

​

Ryo chuckled slightly. “I think we passed that point.”

​

Kohei gave him a small smile back, but his eyes were drooping, and Ryo lifted the blanket for him to get under. Within minutes, Kohei was out, but Ryo couldn't sleep. He drifted on and off, the hours passing by slowly. He gazed at Kohei in the dark, transfixed on his figure. Kohei seemed so small now, out of his usual clothes and away from all the distractions. His white hair was in disarray, and he was drooling slightly. Despite that, Ryo still wanted to reach out and touch him. Kohei looked…vulnerable.  All that was left was the real him, the one no one but Ryo had ever seen. It made him feel warm inside, to be able to be this close to him. Ryo wanted to spend forever with this Kohei, to look at him until he couldn’t anymore. He'd be a mess in the morning, but maybe it was worth it. The tiredness would be a reminder of the fact that this wasn’t all a dream.

Chapter Text

​

Kohei was described as a “turbulent” child to his parents, though the magnitude of that word meant nothing to him at the time. He got anything he wanted, and on the off chance he didn’t, kicking and screaming would do the trick. Whatever therapist had gotten in his parents’ ear suggested he spend time with other boys, other children he could “relate” to. As if anyone really knew what it was like to live the life he had.

​

It was probably because of a business deal that he and Ryo met, on account of how they’d been introduced. Kohei had been shoved into an itchy suit that was an awful tan color, and Ryo had looked equally as uncomfortable. The Suzaki family had been renowned for their success at the time, and it showed in every part of the family’s appearance.

​

The first thing he noticed about Ryo was how long his hair was, which covered his face in a way Kohei’s mother never would have allowed. Ryo’s parents shepherded him forward, the boy’s eyes still fixed on the ground. Through his curtain of hair, he looked up at Kohei, who flashed him a smile. The rest was history, he supposed. Though things had changed drastically of late.

​

To be in love, Kohei realized, was to be in pain. But not like the familiar sting of a blow to the head during a brawl like he was used to, or that of realizing for the first time that there was no point in begging your parents to pay attention to you, that their business came before their son, and that your whole family was based on transaction alone. It was a dull, constant ache that had started in his chest and had only grown as each day with Ryo passed.

​

Every time they held hands, every time Ryo smiled at him, every time he heard that familiar nickname from his childhood, Kohei felt it. Was it the same for Ryo? Or was the mere act of being perceived not petrifying enough for him? No one had ever paid attention to Kohei the way Ryo did. No one knew all the little details but him. He couldn’t hide; he couldn’t run from it anymore. Nothing Kohei usually did to avoid these types of emotions would work. For the first time in his life, there was someone who had seen him, every part of him, and had not run away. Not even in the face of death had Ryo run.

​

And it terrified him.

​

These days, they were more inseparable than ever, and even Kohei’s parents had noticed something. It was on one of the rare days his father dined with him that it was brought up. The dinner was as fancy as it was tasteless, as though the scarcity of its ingredients was enough to satisfy the stomach. Though Kohei could appreciate the finer things in life, this type of cuisine he despised. It was too polished, too far removed from the rest of the world. Only the crème de la crème could afford to eat this way, like birds.

​

“You and that Suzaki boy are friends,” His father said, the question implied. He sipped his tea quietly, but Kohei could see his disapproving eyes over the cup. There were no such things as “friends” in his eyes.

​

“Aren’t we supposed to be?”

​

His father put the cup down, inhaling softly. “You should be careful associating yourself with…people such as him. It doesn’t look good for this family.”

​

“Didn’t you hire them?” Kohei spat back. “And you know I don’t care about that shit.”

​

“When you take over the company, you will.”

​

“By then you’ll be dead and gone, so I won’t have to.”

​

His father grimaced, but said nothing.

​

Kohei took another bite of his food and watched in silence as his father finished his meal.

​

Every time Kohei finished talking with his father, he felt like ripping his skin apart. There was no negotiating with that man, not on an emotional level. The private room of the restaurant he’d been brought to was too barren, too empty. Kohei marched down the stairs toward the car, where Mr. Suzaki waited obediently. After what he’d learned about Ryo and his family, he couldn’t say he cared very much for the man. The car door slammed behind him, and the familiar leather seats welcomed Kohei again.

​

“Take me home.”

​

“But, your father-”

​

“Just take me home. Figure it out later. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” Kohei ordered, not able to make himself sound as intimidating as usual. His father had robbed him of his usual ferocity.

​

The old man obliged, and the car took off. Kohei would have reprimanded Mr. Suzaki for driving so fast if he weren’t so tired. The city lights blurred past him, and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He was so tired of his parents’ scheming, of their hidden social cues, of it all. Kohei’s name would do all the talking in the future; they’d made sure of that. And if that didn’t work, he had Ryo to back him up.

​

Kohei glanced at his phone, wondering if he should call him. He bit his lip absentmindedly, the pain barely registering amidst his thoughts. He tasted blood eventually and resumed tapping his foot rapidly against the car floor. Kohei decided he’d wait to call Ryo until he was inside the house at least, Mr. Suzaki’s eyes still wandering through the rearview mirror.

​

His fingers hovered over the call button even as the front door shut behind him. When Kohei finally pressed it, he held his breath until the call went through.

​

“Hello?”

​

The familiar voice on the other side made him shiver, and Kohei stayed silent for a second.

​

“Kocchan?”

​

“I’m here.”

​

“I thought you were with your dad,” Ryo said. “That dinner you mentioned.”

​

“Well, I’m not anymore. Want to come over?” Kohei’s voice was shaking now, but he couldn’t muster enough strength to make it stop.

​

“Now?”

​

“Yeah,” Kohei fumbled with the keys in his pocket, already headed toward the garage. “I’ll pick you up.” His heart was beating faster than normal, like he’d just been knocked down in the middle of a fight. God, Kohei hated it.

​

“Alright,”

​

Ryo was waiting on the corner near his house like usual, dressed in an outfit Kohei had picked out for him not long ago. It made Kohei’s stomach flip to see it now. He pulled over and rolled down the window, words on the tip of his tongue. Luckily, they weren’t needed, as Ryo sensed the mood immediately after seeing Kohei’s face.

​

The other boy got in, and before he could even start whatever sentence he was going to say, Kohei was on him.

​

Ryo was only shocked for a moment, his hand coming up to cup Kohei’s face as they kissed. The wound on his lips stung, but the pain left him wanting more. Just like the cigarettes he smoked, the heady rush that kissing gave Kohei was addicting, a feeling that made him never want to pull apart from Ryo.

​

When they did, Ryo’s face was pleasantly flushed, his eyes glittering slightly.

​

“You’re happy to see me,”

​

“Shut up,” Kohei started the car, and Ryo rolled down the window slightly. The cool night air slipped in, nipping their cheeks ever so softly.

​

“I take it dinner didn’t go well.”

​

“Same as ever.” Kohei gripped the steering wheel tighter. “He doesn’t like you.”

​

“So he knows?”

​

“I don’t know. Probably. Not like it matters now.”

​

Ryo nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

​

They hit a stoplight, and Kohei lit a cigarette, which was his way of saying no. He passed one to Ryo, who lit his with the tip of Kohei’s, glancing up at him for a second. Kohei met his gaze, recognized the heat in it, and promptly fixed his eyes on the road before him.

​

They hadn’t gone very far for a couple dating for three months. A few clumsy handjobs here and there may have been enough for Ryo, but not for him. Kohei hadn’t brought up the topic, which was his fault. He knew Ryo was aware of what he wanted, what he thought about whenever they made out for too long, but it was never spoken about. Ryo never pushed or asked him for more. The silence was killing him.

​

By the time they pulled into the Amagai compound’s garage, Kohei had smoked his cigarette down to the filter, and his stomach was still churning with anxiety. He tossed the bud in the trash on the way up to his room, kicking his shoes off somewhere along the way.

​

“Did you eat?” He asked Ryo, as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the floor in the vicinity of his laundry basket.

​

“Yeah,” Ryo did the same, sitting down on Kohei’s bed slowly. Their clothes now got mixed up so often that it wasn’t clear what had belonged to whom first. In Kohei’s mind, everything he could get was Ryo’s too.

​

Ryo stared up at him, and Kohei got a strange sense of deja vu, remembering all too recently that Ryo had been in the same position with a knife clutched between his hands. It must have shown on his face, because Ryo took Kohei’s hand in his and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it. Kohei inhaled softly, not daring to pull his hand away. The darkness in Ryo’s eyes seemed to deepen every time Kohei looked at them.

​

“You don’t feel like talking tonight, do you?”

​

Damn Ryo, for knowing him too well. Kohei felt like he was breathing too loudly, too fast, that Ryo must be able to hear his pulse beating through his chest, the sound of it filling the room. But Ryo just looked at him, stared and stared, and Kohei couldn’t take it anymore.

​

“I…” Words didn’t matter anymore; at some point, they’d become capable of communicating without them. Or maybe they’d always been this way.

​

Kohei leaned down to kiss him again, more gently than before. Ryo pulled Kohei’s arm to his chest, ushering him down slowly onto the bed. The pace was driving Kohei crazy even as he climbed into Ryo’s lap and wrapped his arms around him. Ryo was so gentle with him, like he was afraid Kohei would run away any moment. It would have made him angry if he weren’t so in love.

​

Kohei ran his hands down Ryo’s chest, feeling the imprint of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. Ryo let out a quiet gasp when Kohei’s hands dipped under it to caress his skin, and Kohei nipped at his tongue slightly. He could feel the other boy getting harder underneath him, but Ryo had made no movements to satisfy himself yet. Kohei shifted in his lap, trying to egg him on to no avail.

​

Ryo’s hands started to wander too, though not everywhere Kohei needed. Ryo started to kiss long Kohei’s neck, teeth just barely grazing his skin, leaving him on edge. Kohei was almost panting now, and he could feel himself getting more aroused. Ryo wasn’t oblivious to Kohei’s hard-on, though he sure wasn’t doing anything about it, which was making Kohei desperate.

​

He pulled away from Ryo for a second, whose lips were deliciously swollen, and pushed him back onto the bed and pillows. The mattress dipped underneath him, and Ryo’s hair splayed out onto it. He looked pleasantly surprised, hands still at Kohei’s sides.  

​

Kohei felt strange being above Ryo like this, so exposed. But it was now or never. He pulled his shirt over his head, not as smoothly as he would have liked on account of his jewelry. He could see Ryo’s eyes raking over him, admiring him in a way that felt foreign. No one he’d ever slept with had looked at him like this. And they certainly hadn’t been in love with him.

​

Ryo’s hands ran over his chest, and then down, and further still, one of them playing with the button of his pants. At first, it looked like apprehension, but with the way Ryo’s hands began to fondle him, and the smirk on his face, Kohei knew better. Ryo’s slender fingers ran over the growing bulge in Kohei’s pants, making his hips twitch.

​

“Quit teasing me,”

​

Ryo pulled his hands away, albeit slowly, still with that stupid smile. Kohei resisted the urge to roll his eyes and began pressing kisses into Ryo’s collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks across his skin. Kohei slowly moved downwards until his hands rested on Ryo’s hips, and the outline of Ryo’s cock in his jeans was inches from his face.

​

Ryo jerked up, grabbing Kohei’s shoulder.

​

“You don’t have to do this,”

​

“I want to,” He looked up at Ryo through his lashes, contemplating his next move. “If you want,”

​

Ryo nodded, almost too eagerly, and Kohei began unzipping his pants slowly. Ryo’s hand went to the back of Kohei’s neck, playing with the hair at his nape. Kohei mouthed over the growing wet spot in Ryo’s boxers, and the other boy let out an exhale so obscene Kohei knew it would haunt his dreams for months. He shuffled Ryo’s pants down to his knees before wrapping his hand around his dick.

​

He thumbed at the tip, rubbing it in the way he knew drove Ryo crazy, and licked a long stripe up the shaft. The grip on his hair was tightening, but Kohei went deeper until Ryo’s cock hit the back of his throat, and he had to suppress the urge to cough.  He wasn’t going to ruin this for Ryo or himself. Right now was all that was keeping him sane.

​

“Shit…” Ryo’s head was tilted back into the pillows, his breath quickening. Kohei took the increase in noise from him as a sign that he was doing something right, as he bobbed his head faster.

​

Kohei could barely keep himself together, reaching down into his boxers to relieve some of the pressure building inside him. He would be lying if he said sucking Ryo off wasn’t getting him off alone, but there was something extra lewd about humping his own mattress while doing it.

​

Ryo’s hands moved to the front of Kohei’s head and pulled him off, a thin string of spit still connecting Kohei’s lips to the other boy’s cock.

​

“...I want to make you feel good too,”

​

“You are making me feel good,” Kohei stared at Ryo, at the mess he had made, how eager he was.

​

He knew from Ryo’s eyes that that wasn’t enough for him.

​

“I know what we can do,” Kohei leaned over Ryo, reaching for the nightstand and its contents. Not many people came into the bedroom in the first place, but Kohei had always kept things in case. Ryo looked like he was about to self-combust at the sight of the lube and condoms.

​

“You want to-”

​

“Yes,” Kohei said shortly. “It’s fine if you don’t, I underst-”

​

He was cut off by Ryo lunging up to kiss him, and any doubts he’d had on how the rest of the night would go were erased. Kohei’s pants were promptly pulled off him, and the remainder of their clothes accumulated in a pile next to the bed.

​

It wasn’t long before Ryo was warming the lube between his fingers and easing one in slowly, far more considerate than anyone Kohei had been with before. Not that he let many get this far, and he hadn’t in a long time. He hoped that Ryo would be the only one from now on.

​

The only thing Kohei was left wondering was who Ryo had been fooling around with all these years, because his fingers seemed a little too skilled for someone as inexperienced as he. A second one entered, as easily as the first, making Kohei moan softly. A jolt of pleasure stops his train of thought as Ryo’s digits brush against his prostate.

​

“W-wait…”

​

Ryo immediately pulled back, concernedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

​

“No, no, it feels great,” Kohei bit his lip, trying to distract himself from the warmth pulsing through his body. “I just don’t want to come yet.”

​

“Ah.”

​

“I want to come with you inside me,”

​

Kohei had never seen Ryo look at him like that, a smile growing on his face, as he kissed him again, open-mouthed and filthy. Kohei eventually had to pry Ryo and his fingers away from him, exhaling softly as he steadied himself while Ryo rolled the condom on and slicked himself up.

​

Kohei spread his legs invitingly, staring up at Ryo through his eyelashes. He wasn’t stupid; he knew he looked like a wreck right now. But he also knew Ryo liked him that way.

​

“Ready?” He asked.

​

Ryo leaned over him, bracketing Kohei in with his arms as he kissed his neck. Ryo sank in slowly, and Kohei tried to keep his legs from quivering. He can barely breathe, the arousal coursing through his body dizzying. Kohei could hear the other boy curse under his breath as he fully sheathed himself, his palms shaking slightly.

​

“Are you alright?” Ryo’s voice sounded strained, and Kohei could tell from his breathing that he’s just as desperate as Kohei.

​

“Yeah, you can…move,” Kohei pushes out, wrapping his arms around Ryo tighter. Ryo moved slowly at first, each thrust careful and observant, as if he were afraid Kohei was going to say stop any moment. As if that could be farther from the truth.

​

Kohei continued kissing Ryo’s neck, and his thrusts grew faster, making Kohei pant softly. Ryo grabbed at Kohei's hips and moved them upward, the new angle pulling a broken moan out of him. His skin felt overheated, and he could feel the coil in his stomach coil tighter and tighter. Kohei wasn’t going to last long at this rate, hearing the noises Ryo was making, and the way he was fucking him.

​

“...Kochan,’ The innocent nickname took on a new light once it spilled from Ryo’s lips, making Kohei shiver.

​

“Say it again.” God, he sounded pathetic, but he was so lost in the moment that it didn’t matter to him.

​

“Kochan…Please,” Ryo’s thrusts were growing more erratic, and Kohei could barely keep him together as the pet name became like a mantra on Ryo’s lips.

​

Kohei couldn’t give a warning before he came, the tension snapping inside him as his body lit up with pleasure. His legs wrapped tightly around Ryo’s hips, and he could feel the other boy's hips stutter inside of him as he met his release. He faintly registered Ryo groaning and slumping down onto his side, their chests rising and falling in tandem.

​

Eventually, Kohei pried his eyes open again and stared at Ryo, who looked just as dazed as he. He reached out to brush the hair from Ryo’s face, who smiled in return.

​

“Feel better now?”

​

Kohei blinked slowly, his eyes focusing once again. He nodded slowly in response, still enamored with Ryo’s expression. “Thank you,” He mumbled, curling into Ryo’s side.

​

&&&

​

“Did you really forget?” Ryo asked one day, whilst they watched the city from the roof of the school, most of the other students departed. Kohei had been too tired to go out that day, but thankfully, Ryo hadn’t minded.

​

Kohei turned to him. “About what?”

​

“Our dream,” Ryo said quietly, his fingers circling the tap of his soda can. His eyes stared into the distance, at the sprawling city around them. The setting sun painted the dilapidated buildings gold, and for a moment, you could forget that they weren’t falling apart.

​

“...No, I didn’t.” Saying it out loud felt freeing, like finally letting go of a heavy load he’d been carrying for far too long.

​

Ryo was silent for a bit before he spoke again. “We’re close now, aren’t we? To achieving it.”

​

Kohei turned to him, smiling softly. “Yeah.” He held Ryo’s gaze, his hand reaching out to touch Ryo’s. His finger ran over the back of his hand before turning it over to touch the palm. The long, dark red mark from the knife was still there, the skin mostly healed. Ryo would have the mark for the rest of his life. “I hate it. That I did that to you.” Kohei gripped his hand tightly, fingers ghosting over the scar in the middle.

​

“It’s fine,” Ryo said softly. It wasn’t. They both knew it.

​

“I hate that you forgive me.”

​

“You know I always will.”

​

“Still.”

​

“We have plenty of time to make up for it. Now that we’re on top.”

​