Do you ever feel already buried deep?

Author: simph8
Rating: R (for themes)
Warnings: AU, Aftermath, Angst, Cemeteries
Characters: Chinen Yuri, Yabu Kota, Takaki Yuya
Notes: Story is set after 'Hakanai Yubisaki'.

Do you ever feel already buried deep?

Yuri woke up in the dead of the night. His breath was uneven, the sweat rolled down the sides of his heads; he looked around, terrified, trying to make out shapes in the darkness of the room.

It took him a moment to recover and closed his eyes, trying to calm down, bringing his hands to his face. He fell back on the bed, trying to convince himself that there was no one else in the room, that the shadows were just a spawn of his nightmares.

He spent a few minutes alone, listening to the noises coming from the street.

He was sleeping over at Kota’s and Kei’s who, as opposed to him, lived on the second floor of a building on Kabuki-cho’s main street.

When he had been living there, when Yuya had left, he had a hard time sleeping, both because of the noise and the nightmares torturing him back then.

At his apartment, the one he shared with Yuya, he couldn’t hear anything. They lived far enough from the street to avoid being bothered by cars and people. It hadn't taken him long to manage to sleep there, even considering the trauma of having being bought by Yuya.

He came from San’ya, where he had learnt to sleep with one eye open, because anything might’ve happened at any moment.

Right now though, the thing bothering him the most were the nightmares. He had gone back to living with Yuya, but those hadn't disappeared. From time to time, more rarely now, he woke up screaming. Other times, like now, he just woke up startled, trying to run away from the shadows inhabiting his dreams. 

Once he recovered he decided to get up and eat something. It was the dead of the night, but he hadn't really eaten dinner, and right now he was starving.

He put his slippers on and headed toward the kitchen.

He thought he was completely alone, but when he passed through the living room he found Kota on the couch, staring at the TV.

“Why are you up?” he asked, his voice low. The yakuza turned abruptly toward him.

“Yuri. You scared me.” the elder said, sitting up. “I'm not sleepy, I was trying to will myself to sleep watching some TV.”

“Is there something interesting on?” Yuri asked, sitting next to him.

“Not really.” Yabu shrugged. “And why aren't you in bed?”

Yuri kept silent for a moment, trying to ponder his answer. He wasn’t particularly willing to tell him about his nightmares again.

When he had been living there he had opened up more than once with him, telling him how he felt, talking about his nightmares and how scared he felt whenever he was alone.

And after those months he really didn’t want to pour his problems on him all over again.

“I'm hungry.” he averted his eyes, staring at the floor. “I'm sorry I haven’t eaten at dinner, but I really didn’t feel like it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve saved you something from dinner. Come on, I think I might be eating something as well.”

Yuri nodded and followed him to the kitchen. They heated some miso soup and some leftover meat in the microwave, and they started eating.

“Is it just hunger?” the elder asked then, without looking at him.

Yuri shrugged.

“Yes. Why?” he asked, faking indifference.

“Call it instinct. Or force of habit. Kei...” he paused, turning to look at the bedroom’s door. “I'm used to it.”

“It was just a nightmare. Nothing more.”

Kota nodded, and Yuri wondered what he was thinking about.

When Yuya had left for his work trip he had asked whether he wanted to stay home or if he’d rather sleep at Kota, and Yuri had felt as if he needed a baby-sitter.

He hadn't liked that and so he had lied and told him he had no problem sleeping at their apartment on his own.

But he had found out soon he wasn’t used anymore to the solitude which had kept him company before Yamada.

He was scared of being alone, incredibly so. He hadn't spent one night alone since the day he had woken up at Kota’s place, after they had saved him from Yamada.

The first day without Yuya had gone down pretty well; he hadn't left the house, eating chips in front of the TV, telling Yuya he was studying when the elder called to check in.

Then the night had come. At sundown he had started looking around suspiciously, as if he had been expecting something to come out the door to hurt him.

He had managed to resist a few more hours, then he had heard a noise outside the front door. He had heard banging on it, and he had sought refuge inside the pantry. He heard steps chasing after him, hands grabbing him, pushing him down and...

And then he had woken up. He was shaking, and he remembered having fallen asleep on the floor while he looked at the ceiling and thought about Yuya, his life, what he should’ve done to make things go back to what they were.

He had tried to sleep again, and the nightmares had come back. He had called Kota, terrified, begging him to come and get him and asking if he could’ve stayed with them as long as Yuya was away.

He had been there three days now. He hadn't been able to do otherwise.

And he knew he couldn’t go on like that, or he was going to destroy himself. He hated that weakness, because he had never felt it before. He had always faced obstacles with his head held high, even the worst ones, because he wasn’t willing to let anyone walk all over him.

Yet, he didn’t understand why he couldn’t recover from what had happened to him. He should’ve hated Yamada, but the only one he hated was himself.

“Want to talk about it?” Kota asked all of a sudden. “About your nightmares?”

Yuri shook his head.

“No, I...” he held tight onto his bowl. “I don’t understand. I don’t know why I keep being...” he paused.

Even thinking about saying it out loud, about that word, making it more real, bothered him.

“Afraid?” Kota finished for him.

The younger closed his eyes and nodded. Kota scooted closer, patting his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed. It’s late.” he murmured.

Yuri bit his lip and finished the content of his bowl, then he stood up and headed back to his bedroom, after having wished Kota goodnight.

He laid down on the mattress, lighting up a cigarette; then he reached out for his phone.

He wanted to hear Yuya’s voice, to be cuddled, soothed. It was the dead of the night, but Yuri was fairly certain the yakuza was still up. When he had called, earlier that evening, the elder had told him that with all the work he had to do it was likely he wasn’t going to make it to bed.

He heard the phone ring a couple times, then Yuya picked up.

“Yuri! Is everything alright?” he asked, alarmed. “It’s late, I thought you were sleeping.”

“Yes, I... I woke up to go to the bathroom.” he lied. “I missed you, I wanted to hear you.” he whispered, taking a long drag off the cigarette.

“I miss you too.” Yuya said, in one of his rare moments of affection. “Come on now... three days and I’ll be back with you.”

“Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?” Yuri asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Ah. Didn’t I tell you? There’s been a few problems, I risk being arrested at the airport if I come back tomorrow. I'm sorry.” the elder apologized.

“Oh.” Yuri murmured. “Don’t worry. I’d rather know you’re in Taiwan for a few more days than in jail for life.” he tried to chuckle to ease the tension.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, now. Go back to sleep.” Yuya murmured. “It’s the dead of the night there.”

“More or less.” Yuri replied, yawning. “I’ll call you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Yuya.”

“Goodnight Yuri.”

Yuri hung up, then he stayed a little while longer looking at the display. It showed a picture of him and Yuya, Yokohama in the background. Every time he looked at it he felt better, relieved. He felt he had something to fight for, something worth protecting.

He had Yuya.

He had never even thought that one day he might’ve gotten arrested. He had always seen him so confident, so arrogant, feeling above the law, that he had gotten convinced he could basically do anything without worrying about consequences.

He laid down on the bed again, covering himself up to his shoulders.

He wondered what he would’ve done, had Yuya been arrested.

His life would’ve been over. He shook his head, trying not to think about it.

He shouldn’t have thought about this kind of stuff when he was about to sleep. Kei always told him he tended to be too pessimistic.

Yuri usually shrugged when he heard that but, he knew it, the elder was right.

He should’ve tried to be more positive, one way or the other.

~

When he walked out of school, Yuri saw Kota waiting for him in the car. He walked toward him, confused, leaning against the passenger side.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised.

“I came to get you. I wanted to bring you somewhere.”

“Somewhere? I thought trips were only reserved to Kei.” the younger tried to joke.

“Usually.” Kota chuckled. “But this isn't really a trip. It’s more of... a lesson, one that should help you move on.”

“I don’t need lessons. I need time.” Yuri murmured.

“I know. Trust me, I know. But it’s better for you if you recover soon. You can't go on like that, you know that too.” he sighed. “Come on. Get in.”

Yuri obeyed, hesitating. He opened the door and sat next to him, after having thrown his bag in the back seat. He leant against the backrest, turning on the radio until he found a song he liked.

Kota hated pop. And ever since he had known Yuri, he also hated those five guys dancing around the stage.

He was tempted to switch station, but he didn’t. It was going to be a challenging day for Yuri; maybe it was better to get him in as good a mood as possible.

~

When they arrived, Kota turned the engine off and looked at the kid next to him.

“Why are we at the cemetery?”

“To help you get back to life.” the yakuza replied, getting off the car and walking to open the passenger door.

“I don’t think I'm coming. I can stay here.”

“Come on, don’t act like a brat.” Kota replied.

Yuri bit down on his lip, staring at the row of tombstones in front of him. He slowly obeyed and slammed the door behind him.

He followed Kota with his head low, passing over dozens of tombstones, all similar to each other. Flowers, incense, pictures. All the colours from the flowers, all those people were making him feel sick. Yuri didn’t want to be there, he didn’t like that feeling.

He had never been to his parents graves either. Over a year before Yuya had told him they had been buried close to where they had interred the empty white coffin where he was supposed to be.

All Yuri had felt back then, was the instinct to go and destroy those tombs, to stand in front of his name, his date of birth and that of death, screaming to the world that he was alive and suffering, bearing through the humiliations Yuya put him through.

But he had never done such a thing. The dead weren’t worth the trouble, not even his own parents.

Kota stopped all of a sudden and Yuri, lost in his thoughts, walked against him, before looking around.

The etching on the tombstone stood out on the black granite.

‘Yamada Ryosuke finally rests in peace, in spite of everything’.

Yuri felt the air disappear from his lungs and his legs shivering. He wasn’t sure he could stand any longer on his own feet. His eyes were fixated on those words, those dates, those flowers so fresh, and in the end the picture.

It must have been Yamada when he wasn’t much more than a kid, and the one with him was Kota for sure, ten less years on him. Yuri slipped on his knees and brushed his fingers over it.

Kota was kneeling, and Ryosuke was between his arms. They were both laughing, they looked happy. It belonged to another time entirely.

Yuri had never seen Yamada smile, not during those days. He had seen a face twisted by anger, madness, hatred, suffering.

“How did you know him?” he murmured, his eyes misty; he didn’t feel ready for the story the yakuza was going to tell.

Kota bit his lip and averted his eyes for a moment, then he sat down next to him.

“I met him when I had first joined the yakuza. His mother was a prostitute, and he’s born into the brothel in our territory. Another man used to run it back then, Yuto was his name. He... he had bought Yamada.” Kota brought his hand on top of Yuri’s, brushing Yamada’s face in the picture. “Ryo was eight. I made a mistake, I got too attached. I wished I could’ve given him a better life, but I’ve only made things worse. Yuto has tried to punish me by through Kei, but Yuya saved him. He killed his aniki and to punish me he made Yamada stay at the brothel, forbidding me to get close to him again. The last time I saw him I promised we were going to still be friends, that one day we were going to meet again. Instead, next time I saw him I put a bullet through his brain, to protect you.”

Yuri raised his eyes, getting closer to Kota and drying his tears. The elder’s voice was steady, and he wondered what kind of effort it was taking him to avoid crying.

Yuri caressed the granite. Yamada had been a victim to violence, just like him. He had tried to escape that vicious cycle his life had become, and all Yuya had done was make his wavering sanity even worse.

So, just like Yuya had before him, Yamada had chosen Yuri to take the violence out of his body and onto his.

Yuri held Kota’s hand tight, then he burst out crying.

He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was crying for the person who had managed to bend him, break him.

But he needed to forgive him. He owed him at least that.

All his life Yamada had needed a gesture, some kindness, something to make him believe there was hope for him in a world which had just hurt him over and over again.

He hoped that, by forgiving him, at least Yamada’s soul could’ve been free.

He was alive. He needed to walk with his head held high, he who had the chance to do so.

Yuri needed to hope and to forgive. And to forget.

~

The way back home was quiet. Kota was right, that leap in the past, those explanations no one had ever given to him, had helped.

He understood why Yamada had been so brutal with him. He understood and he couldn’t hold a grudge against him, just like he had managed not to hold one against Yuya.

He felt tired, and when he got back home all he wanted was to get to bed and sleep.

But when he walked through the door he heard that voice, and all of the pain suddenly went away.

In the living room, sitting uncomfortably with Kei, there was Yuya. Yuri ran toward him, throwing himself at him and kissing him.

“You said you were going to be back in three days.” Yuri murmured between the kisses.

“Lie. I wanted to surprise you.” the elder whispered, embarrassed. “Want to go somewhere together?”

“Yes. I’ll grab my stuff and we can go.” he stood up and ran toward his room.

Yuya stared at Kota, close to Kei, and smiled.

He was glad of his new life, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. In time, he told himself, they might’ve also become a couple of idiots, just like Kota and Kei.