Hakanai Yubisaki

Author: simph8
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, Violence, Non-con, Underage, Kidnapping, Character Death
Characters: Chinen Yuri, Takaki Yuya, Yabu Kota, Inoo Kei, Yamada Ryosuke

Hakanai Yubisaki

(Ephemeral fingerprint)

Prologue

It had been fate. His life had never been particularly intense, nor interesting.

He was used to do his things.

He woke up always at the same hour and he had breakfast with the same things. When he took off his mother always kissed his forehead and his father patted his shoulder. He took the same train, followed classes in school with the same boredom, then he ran to prep school, where he talked only with a couple of other kids.

Then he went back home by train, he had dinner and went to bed at the same hour, perhaps re-reading one of his favourite books.

He liked his life, despite everything, it made him feel safe, the stability made him happy.

Because he liked to always know what was going to happen. Yuri didn’t like the unknown, he didn’t like surprises. He didn’t like to live day by day, wake up without knowing what was going to happen.

Then his father’s financial meltdown had arrived. Yuri had seen the world crumble down on him, lose its consistence, until it had completely buried him, burdening him with responsibilities that a thirteen years old wasn’t even supposed to know.

He had seen how ugly the world surrounding him could be, and he had never even bothered to get to know it, because he liked to hide behind his beloved routine.

He had found out, experimented on his own skin, that he couldn’t trust anybody, not even those very same parents who, without thinking twice, had rather send him to his death than risk their own skin.

He had been sold from his parents to the yakuza to pay the debt his father had with them. 

He had seen what could’ve happened to him, he had seen that there was no right choice between dying and being sold to psychopaths. Yuri had grown up fast, in those two weeks he had spent inside that warehouse which tasted of death, surrounded by other human beings, young like him, who had very little left of human.

When Yuya had made his appearance, he had hated his arrogance. He had hated everything about him, he had hated his hands, with those fingers long and tapered, he had hated those tattoos, so threatening. He had hated his attitude, as if everything was owed to him.

He felt nothing was going to be the same again. He had heard his steps echo in the silence of the warehouse, and when their eyes had met Yuri had understood that his fate was going to be bound to the yakuza’s for better or worse.

He had been able to test how heavy the man’s face could be against his face from the first moment. He had become his little personal whore, and that was never going to change.

It hadn't taken him long to bite the bullet and accept his life. He didn’t want to die, not yet. It wasn’t fair that he would die like that, only because a brainless yakuza had decided so.

His hatred had grown, day after day. All he did was think about his parent’s life, their happy smiles, the fact that they had completely forgotten about him, that they had erased from their memory those thirteen years they had spent together.

He sought his revenge, searching for the safest way, trying to convince himself that their death was righteous, because it was only because of them if he had ended up in the house of a sexual sadist, forced to comply to all his requests.

The day he had decided to be the one where he was going to kill his parents had come too soon. He could use a gun, because he had begged Yuya to teach him, and he had still felt insecure.

Yuya had found him, as usual, and he had reminded him of the life he led, what he had to go through, the humiliations, the wounds, the scars, the injuries he had received in those past two years, and then Chinen’s finger had moved on its own, pressing on the trigger.

He had pulled it, and a few moments later the bodies of those who had once been his parents lied next to each other, killed by that very same past they had tried to forget.

Things had changed from then. They weren’t perfect, but they had changed still the same.

He had felt a little more like a human, treated with a little dignity. He had liked that.

Then Hikaru had come.

Hikaru, with his cheap jokes, Hikaru with those glances he shouldn’t have thrown at him because he risked his life, Hikaru with his hands touching him like Yuya had never touched him.

Hikaru offering him a better life, a world with no violence, where he could’ve led his life next to a man who loved him, and who perhaps Chinen might’ve learnt to love.

He had wavered, because Yaotome was offering him a place he had never known, and for a moment he had gotten fucking scared of that.

Because he had never had a life like that, because he didn’t know what was waiting for him, because after his parents’ betrayal he was scared he was going to end up burned again.

Because he knew what to expect from Yuya, he had his life, there was a violence he was used to.

Hikaru was the big unknown, because no one could assure him it was going to be different.

Because he wasn’t going to put up with another betrayal.

He had grown apart from him, then he had thought about a way to talk to him, because despite everything the answer was clear in his head.

It had been a few weeks since the last time he had seen Hikaru, when he had had sex for the first time feeling loved.

Yuya had surprised him.

And, after all that time, it wasn’t easy.

The elder had started touching him, after having told him he knew what had happened with Hikaru, and Yuri had been expecting ropes, knives and everything he was used to.

Instead he had gotten to feel how good Yuya’s big hands could feel as they brushed over his skin, as they touched him without hurting him.

He had felt how good it was to have his lips over his body while he tried to bring him pleasure, he had experimented how good sex could be.

It had been.

He had always dreamed, in his little world, for something like that. Yuya was a good looking man and Yuri, despite all the yakuza did to him, had always been weak to him.

It was twisted, without a doubt. It was wrong, perverse and unhealthy, but he couldn’t avoid it.

And having sex with him like that, feeling him inside without any pain, had changed everything.

They had talked and Yuri had finally opened up, telling him all he had felt and thought those past three years.

And they had grown a little closer, and Yuri was fine with that, because it was still more than he thought he would’ve ever obtained that day, when Yuya had walked inside the warehouse and had bought him for sex.

And that new life, that new routine, at least for what concerned their time in bed, was more than welcomed.

Because finally he came every time they had sex, because he felt somehow respected, because he felt like a human being when he was in the same room as him.

Two weeks from then, Yuri had felt the world crumble down on him again.

Because he knew Hikaru had gotten the hint, because he knew that sooner or later one of them was going to burst.

They were time bombs, ready to explode and make irreparable damages.

And if Yuri couldn’t trust Hikaru’s control over his own rage, even less he trusted Yuya.

He had tried to make Hikaru calm down and had hated Yuya, who didn’t seem to have realized exactly the kind of situation he was in.

He had gotten close, slowly, while Hikaru definitively lost the perception of the reality surrounding him.

It had happened incredibly slowly in his mind, but Yuri was sure it must’ve taken a few seconds tops.

He had seen Hikaru dig the knife in Yuya’s flesh and he had heard the elders of them scream. He hadn't liked the scream, because it was the first time he had seen Yuya in pain.

And Hikaru had laughed. Laughed, like a madman, convinced he was doing the right thing.

Yuri had looked Yuya on the ground, his hand pressed on the wound, the blood spreading on the floor, and Yuri had felt all the pieces go to their place inside of him.

He had grabbed the heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table and he had bashed it against Hikaru’s head, with a strength and a rage that didn’t belong to him.

He didn’t want to be one of those people who remembered the good times they had spent with the man they loved.

He didn’t want to end up alone, in some crappy place with a crappy life, just because Yuya had died.

He didn’t want to live the rest of his life without the person he loved.

The ashtray went down a second and a third time against Hikaru’s head, by then on the ground and dead, but he couldn’t stop.

He had felt the blood spraying all over him, but he felt relieved of that, and he went on until he heard Yuya’s voice in his brain, making him come back from his frenzy.

He had looked around, lost, and had let go of the weapon in his hands, stumbling over to Yuya, who still sat on the floor, the knife in his abdomen and the blood dripping.

He had called 119, his voice shivering and the fear to lose him making him go mad.

He wasn’t sure he was going to survive losing Yuya.

Chapter 01

Yuri had a paper bag in his hands. He stopped in front of the building and sat on a bench.

He looked around a couple of times, unsure.

Maybe it hadn't been the greatest idea to go fetch him. Maybe he should’ve stayed home, waiting for him, like he had asked a couple of days before.

But he couldn’t help it. He rarely obeyed to his orders, at least to mild orders like that one; just like when Yuya told him to go and buy rice to the conbini and he came back home with half the stock. The elder had never done anything to him but snort and mutter some profanities.

He started to fidget. He was always nervous whenever he did something Yuya had told him not to.

He looked at the bag’s content; there were things Yuya particularly enjoyed, like daifuku, dango and dorayaki. He bit his lip and he jumps up.

If had caught a bus now he would’ve made it home in time. Or he would’ve had the sweets to justify his absence.

He was about to run to the bus stop when he heard Yuya’s voice, and he froze.

He subconsciously held tighter on the bag, his breathing suddenly heavier.

He turned around, slowly, looking at Yuya standing in front of him, leaning against a crutch, the usual frown on his face.

“I'm sorry.” Yuri started to say, averting his eyes. “I didn’t know what to do home while I waited for you and...” he handed him the paper bag. “I bought you sweets, the ones you like, from that place in Roppongi.” he murmured then.

He saw Yuya get slowly closer and then stop right in front of him. Yuri closed his eyes, waiting to be scolded.

Instead the elder’s hand rested on his head, caressing him softly.

“Thanks.” he said, taking the bag and peeking inside, and the younger saw him smile. “I love dorayaki, Yuri.”

“Mh.” Chinen sighed. “I know.” he muttered, turning his back on him.

He still felt uncomfortable being alone with him, especially after he had woken up in the hospital.

They had a routine, before. Except for the hours spent in bed, he had built a certain relationship with Yuya that Hikaru’s death had shred to pieces, and Yuri wasn’t sure he was going to be able to find a balance again.

He hailed a cab, deciding that he was going to think about his life with Yuya as soon as they would’ve gotten back home.

~

It had been a month since Yuya had gotten out of the hospital, and Yuri could see clearly he was boredom incarnate.

He complained about every little thing, but Yuri wasn’t particularly annoyed by that. He had grown accustomed to that whiny presence, and he had started to laugh at his bad jokes about his imminent death.

Right now he was washing the dishes; Yuya had been bitching for half an hour about being hungry and the fact that no one in that house was worrying about feeding him properly.

After the first two or three complaints, Kota had given up telling him anything, while Kei kept sitting in a corner of the couch, his knees up to his chest, reading a manga and eating ice-cream right out of the tub.

Yuya got up, getting behind Yuri and grabbing his hips; the younger jumped, instinctively pulling away and letting a glass fall in the sink, breaking.

Chinen saw the yakuza’s hand move fast to grab his hair, but that didn’t happen. He heard him click his tongue and then go back to the couch.

Kota threw a quick glance at him and then kept checking that month account books, without paying much attention to him.

“I'm sorry. You’ve startled me, I was washing and...”

“I don’t care about excuses.” the elder hissed. “Move your ass and cook. And throw away the glass shards.” he scolded him, sourly.

Yuri nodded without replying, and he started collecting the shards, careful not to cut himself. He quickly washed the last dishes, and then he started cooking.

After all, he thought with an hint of sadness, it hadn't changed much.

As per doctor’s order, Yuya couldn’t have sexual intercourse for at least a couple of months, or the wound could’ve torn open.

It wouldn’t have been pleasant having to do something to stop the haemorrhage.

So, technically, he still didn’t know how real Yuya’s change toward him was.

All he could think about was sex. He was terrified at the idea of having trusted him without a good reason to find out, in due time, that Yuya had stayed the same.

He was scared of finding out nothing had changed. He nervously brushed a hand over his arm, on two close scars in the proximity of his elbow that Yuya had given him a few weeks before the stabbing. 

They were there, white and deep, staring at him constantly. And all Yuri could do was to hope for the best.

He threw a quick glance at him; Yuya was smoking, his legs stretched on the couch, the bandaging peaking from under his shirt.

Kei, a few inches from him, kept reading undisturbed, as if he wasn’t even there. Yuya looked at him for a while, then he clicked his tongue and raised his eyes, meeting those of the youngest of them.

Yuri averted them immediately, and he focused completely on dinner.

~

 Once alone, Yuri got to the sink again, loaded the dishwasher and swept the room.

He knew how much Yuya hated chaos, and he had learnt soon that going along with his desires was going to keep him alive.

He had gotten used fast to his routing. Most of the times Yuya was away for the whole day, so he had learnt to manage his time.

He had thought, a few months before, to ask Yuya if he could go to school, but he had realized that things tended to get dirty without being used, that dust piled up under the chairs and the couch from one day to the other and that the pile of dirty clothes got higher by the second.

So he had decided that being out for hours, study in the afternoon, doing chores and put up with Yuya’s sexual whims was out of the question.

He heard Yuya mutter against the TV, comfortably lying on the armchair, and he saw him switch from channel to channel almost hysterically. He got close to him, slowly.

“I'm done.” he informed him.

Yuya raised his eyes on him and grabbed his arm, pulling him in his lap. Yuri struggled to keep his balance and put his knees down in the space between the armrest and Yuya’s legs.

“You can't have sex.” he uttered, grabbing the elder’s wrists. “The doctor said it’s dangerous.”

“Doctors can go fuck themselves.” Yuya muttered. “I want to fuck you, I haven’t touched you in over a month.”

The yakuza wiggled out of his hold, softly caressing his naked shoulders, and Yuri felt a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“I know, I know.” he replied, unwillingly. “But doctor’s orders are important. I promise you… when he’s going to give the okay we’re going to have sex whenever and wherever you want. You just have to hold on a little while longer.”

He saw Yuya open his mouth to reply, then close it and nod.

“Bring me coffee.” he murmured, taking his hands off of him.

The younger bit his lower lip, snuggling up to him and inhaling his scent, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“I like it when you caress me.” he whispered in his ear.

Yuya started doing that again, as slow as before, then he patted his butt.

“Come on, bring me some coffee. I need to work, and I risk falling asleep otherwise.” he asked, more kindly.

Yuri nodded, smiling, and got off of him. He turned the coffee machine on, pouring two teaspoons of sugar in a cup.

Yuya stood up, holding a hand tight to the wound on his stomach; he didn’t say a word and moved to the living room table, where is laptop was already on and left on the accounts page Kota had been working on before dinner.

Yuri put the coffee down next to the computer and then grabbed a book from the shelf, sitting on the armchair.

“Don’t you get bored?” Yuya asked out of nowhere.

He turned to look at the younger, his hair tied in a ponytail and his glasses on. Yuri raised his eyes from the book, confused. It was most likely the first time he got concerned at what he did in his free time.

“No, don’t worry.” he checked the time. “Actually, since I’m done with the chores, I can also go grocery shopping now instead of tomorrow.”

The elder nodded.

“Mh. Want some help with the water bottles?”

“No, thanks.” he said, uncomfortable, closing his book. “I’ve already gone with Kota last week, when you were in the hospital for your check-up.”

“Isn't it late to go out?” Yuya asked again, just as confused as him.

Yuri shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll keep myself occupied this way. You don’t like having me wandering around the apartment aimlessly, do you?”

“Ah... yes. That’s true.” Yuya muttered, still not convinced, as he watched the younger put his shoes and a jacket on. “Be careful.”

Yuri nodded. Then he grabbed his keys, his wallet and closed the door behind him.

~

It was late, and Yuri didn’t feel particularly comfortable walking down the streets in Kabuki-cho alone.

After a certain time, he was used to go out with Yuya. But that night he didn’t think he could stand his presence, and for the first time, he didn’t understand why he felt like that.

He had gotten used to his life, to Yuya’s violence at the most unthinkable times, whenever he needed to lash out.

He had gotten used to shower and ignore the scars, the cuts, everything. He had gotten used to that life and all the shit he had had to go through.

Then Hikaru had shown him something he had never known, and he had liked to have sex with him, consensual for the first time.

Yuya had tried to be better than his shatei, and he had managed to do that. For over two weeks he had lived in heaven, and he hadn't felt those emotions crushing him like that.

Right now though, being with Yuya almost made him uncomfortable, and he wasn’t used to it.

Because his pseudo-kindness toward him made him almost feel vulnerable, which had never happened to him.

He sighed.

He took a cigarette, lighting it up almost indifferently. It was more the gesture in itself and having something to do he cared about, more than an actual desire to smoke.

He remembered Yuya had gotten mad when he had realized a few of his cigarettes went missing, and when he had found him closed in the bathroom, smoking in secret.

Yuri hadn't understood why he had gotten mad, so he had gotten irritated himself, telling him it was perfectly normal that he had started smoking, with him doing that all over the apartment.

He had seen his hand raise, and that had been one of the first time he had seen it go down without hitting him. He had gotten relieved.

The elder had ignored him, telling him he wasn’t going to give him more money than he already did for groceries and whatnots. Yuri had smiled, knowing he had won.

He sat on a bench. The supermarket was a hundred yards away, and he hadn't even reached half a cigarette. He closed his eyes, enjoying the summer breeze, despite the suffocating heat.

Out from that house and far from his new worries, he felt fine again.

He put the cigarette out and then walked into the supermarket. He took a basket, and started walking through the aisles, grabbing the stuff they needed.

He liked that part of his life. Knowing that Yuya trusted him enough to let him manage the money and the chores had always made him feel good, as if he was considered for something other than sex.

He stopped at the conbini on the way back, and bought two cartons of cigarettes, one for himself and one for the elder.

He picked the bags up and walked out, and then he got startled. Yuya was next to the entrance, leaning against the wall, smoking.

“Yuya!” he said, worried, and uncomfortable all over again.

“You left your cell home. I forgot to tell you to buy me cigarettes.”

“Ah. I already did that. I'm sorry, I was a little distracted.” he admitted, without looking at him.

“Want some ramen?” the elder asked, him too looking elsewhere. “The shop is still open, we could have a nice midnight snack.” he said, careful to make his words sound casual.

“No, I'm still full from dinner. But I’ve bought meat for tomorrow, so if you want...”

“Shut up. This attitude of yours is annoying.” the elder interrupted him, clicking his tongue.

“What?”

“This way you have of trying and please me. You’ve been doing that since I’ve been stabbed from your little friend! It bothers me. You never did that, I don’t see why you should start now.”

“Wha... let’s not mention that Hikaru wasn’t my little friend but your shatei. It’s not my fault if you can't put a leash on your stupid watchdogs. And anyway, I'm doing nothing to please you, you’re not well and I'm just trying to make it easier on you!” Yuri said, loud.

“Well don’t, because it gets on my nerves. I'm not used to it. And it’s just a scratch anyway, I'm not dying.”

“You’ve risked it, thought.” Yuri said, his voice getting even higher in pitch. “And I... I felt guilty, because it’s my fault and...”

Yuya grabbed his arm, pulling him close. Slowly, Yuri raised his arms, hugging him and hiding against his chest.

“I'm sorry.” the younger said, holding back his sobs. “I didn’t know what Hikaru was going to do to you, or I would’ve never...” he stopped, not knowing how to go on.

He kept quiet, and Yuya didn’t add anything else. Yuri closed his eyes, just listening to the elder’s heartbeat.

~

Back home Yuri started putting away groceries, while Yuya sat at the table again, going back to work.

Once he was done the kid sat on the couch, reading. It was the schoolbook Yuya had given him for his birthday.

It wasn’t rare for the elder to buy him stuff, and Yuri liked that part of him which the elder tried to hide in any possible way, mostly raping him whenever he pleased.

Incredibly, when it wasn’t about sex, Yuya was quite attentive to what Yuri told him.

At some point the younger yawned, throwing a quick look at the clock. It was past one in the morning, and he decided to go to bed; the next day he had to do laundry, iron clothes and then go to buy the bandages to tend to Yuya’s wound.

And it was almost time to pull out the winter clothes. He needed to be proactive if he wanted everything to be ready for when Yuya would’ve gotten back, even though it was supposed to be late. He was going to Osaka with Kota to deal with some business, and Yuri knew he wasn’t going to tolerate any chaos once he would’ve gotten back.

“I'm going to bed, Yuya. I'm too tired.”

The elder nodded, ignoring him, and Yuya walked past him, taking the glass of water he had left on the table and emptying it.

He was about to leave when the elder grabbed his arm, pulling him close. He stood up and pulled Yuri’s head back, then he kissed him.

Yuri had always thought Yuya’s lips were soft. And he liked to kiss them, when it was consensual.

“Goodnight.” Yuya murmured, embarrassed, pushing him toward the bedroom. “Don’t wait me up, I’ll be late trying to put everything in order for tomorrow.” he sighed, throwing a gloom look at the computer.

“Okay.” Yuri said, low.

He bowed his head and reached the bedroom, getting straight under the covers. He tried to fall asleep, but it was like the first times he had spent there. He just couldn’t.

But, for once, when he heard Yuya join him a long while later and snuggle up to him, he wasn’t afraid.

Only when he heard him fall asleep he did the same, letting the elder’s breathing cradle him.

Chapter 02

Kota wandered around the apartment, aimlessly. Kei was sleeping, and he had gotten up first that morning, despite having the day off.

He walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring inside of it. He grabbed a beer, because it was the only thing that didn’t need cooking, and went sitting on the couch, turning the TV on and leaving it on mute.

He looked at the news, wondering when he was going to start see some changes in his life.

Kei’s conditions had improved, and visibly so.

He could hold him, caress him, and more than half the times he tried they even managed to have sex and get till the end. It wasn’t particularly satisfying, at least for Kota, but they did.

Every time they had sex, it felt like he was with a doll. He hardly believed Kei liked it, but Kota still appreciated his effort.

And thinking about his sacrifices he could still be satisfied, because he didn’t even care about sex, all he needed was for Kei to be happy. If Kei was happy, nothing else mattered.

He looked outside the window. The sun had risen, and its rays had started lighting up the room.

He decided to wait for Kei to wake up before making any plan for the day. He hoped he was in a good mood, because he wanted to take him out, perhaps take a little trip to Yokohama, since the weather seemed to be nice.

He was tired of being home. He wanted to be with him and forget for a while about the warehouse’s stench, the faces of those abandoned kids, their malnourished look, the smell of blood and death which got attached to his clothes, to his skin.

He needed a break, at least for a day.

He didn’t have to wait long. At eight sharp he heard Kei’s alarm ring noisily, and then he saw him walk inside the living room, unsettled.

He looked beautiful to him.

His long hair were a mess, he was brushing a hand over his eyes, yawning.

He wore sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt which had belonged to Kota. And despite all the problems, he looked like the best thing that had ever happened to Kota.

He got off the couch and walked to him. Kei smiled, hugging him and kissing him.

“Good morning.” Kota murmured against his lips.

“It’s nice to wake up and find you home, Ko.” the younger replied, brushing his face against Yabu’s shoulder.

Kota hugged him, tenderly.

“I wish I could be here more, but I'm too busy at work.”

The younger pulled away from the hug, he shrugged and tiptoed, pressing his face against Kota’s.

“As long as we’ve got these days to ourselves, right?”

“Right.” Kota smiled, delicately taking his hand. “Know what I was thinking?” he asked then. “We could take the car and go to Yokohama. Yuya told me about a restaurant which is supposedly incredible.”

Kei looked at him for a moment, staring into space, most likely unsure as to what to answer. He looked outside the window, and when he turned to face him again he was smiling.

“Okay. I like Yokohama, and it’s been a while since we’ve last been to a restaurant together.”

Kota felt his heart burst in his chest.

He hadn't heard that cheerfulness in Kei’s voice in a while, and that made him feel good.

He felt that, despite everything, tiredness was starting to slowly fade away.

~

Yuri got up when it was still dark outside. Yuya slept deeply, and in a while he was supposed to get up and to the hospital, for the last check-up with the doctor.

He was going to come back after lunch, and the younger decided to take advantage of that.

He got dressed quickly and headed out. He went to the coffee place, hungry. Even though hunger wasn’t what had brought him out; he wanted to think.

After the argument in front of the conbini, their relationship had gotten even colder, and Yuri didn’t know what to do anymore.

He ordered coffee and a pastry. He sat at a table outside, watching the neighbourhood slowly come to life.

He stayed there a long while.

He was scared at the idea of going back home. Before, he knew what to expect. Now he lived scared of a sudden loss of control on the yakuza’s part, as if he was a ticking bomb.

He bit his lip. The idea of falling back into that hell after having experimented how good it could be with him, terrified him.

A shadow descended upon his table and Yuri jumped, coming back to himself. He raised his head and saw three of Yuya’s shateis. He knew them. They had been at the apartment a few times, and they had always made heavy jokes about his condition.

He knew what they actually wanted from him, but he was also sure enough that they wouldn’t have dared to raise a finger on him, knowing he belonged to Yuya.

“What do you want? Yuya’s not here, if it’s him you’re looking for.” he hissed, standing up, determined to go back home now.

“We know he’s not here.” one of them chuckled, staring at him. “We wanted to know how’s it going at home. You know, today’s the day, right? It’s going to be hard for you to get up from the bed once he’ll tie you again to it.”

Yuri grimaced, then he smirked.

“Since when are you interested in this stuff? Dogs like you aren't even supposed to talk.” he snarled.

Another one of them grabbed his chin, pulling him closer.

“Don’t play with us, whore. If you didn’t belong to Yuya...”

“What would you do?” Yuri asked, wiggling out. “I'm sure you’d have troubles getting it up in the first place.” he said then, nodding toward their groin.

The third shatei grabbed his arm, dragging him for a few yards. The younger stumbled, making the chair fall, then he got pushed against a wall.

“Stupid, little bitch.” he heard him snarl.

Yuri saw him raise his fist, then a hand blocking his wrist.

He moved his eyes, and saw Kota in front of them.

“What are you doing?” he asked harshly, standing in front of the kid, covering him.

The three shateis backed off immediately. Kota wasn’t particularly scary, but they knew that going against Yuya’s right-hand man might’ve been a bad idea.

“He insulted us.” one of them hissed. “We were only making things clear.”

“Three men against a kid?” Kota clicked his tongue. “Go away now, before I decide to talk to Yuya about this.” he smiled, deviously. “And you know how dangerous it is to touch our aniki’s properties, don’t you?” 

Yuri heard him mutter something and then go away. Kota sighed, losing all his ‘bad boy’ stance, picking up the chair from the ground, then he turned toward him.

“Everything’s alright?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes, I...” he brought a hand to the side of his head, then he stared at his bloody fingertips .”It’s just a cut, nothing serious.”

“I'm going to mention this to Yuya, you’ll see he...”

“No!” the younger yelled, stopping him. “No, let it go. They’re just idiots. Yuya’s going to be stressed out already about the hospital, we really don’t want to irritate him more than that.” he murmured then.

Kota kept quiet for a few moments, staring at him.

“Yuri, are you sure everything’s okay at home? Because you both look a little on edge, lately.”

“Uh? Yeah, sure.” Yuri laughed, pretending to be cheerful. “Nothing much, you know. Yuya’s nervous about the wound, nothing else.”

“Mh.” the elder muttered, not at all convinced.

“Thank you about before. Now... I’ve got to get home to cook. Yuya’s going to come back eventually, and he better find everything ready.”

He bowed his head a little, then he went away. Once he arrived he leant against the front door, feeling his heart beating too fast in his chest.

He stared at the bruise on his wrist.

He sighed.

It had been a while since he had seen marks on his body, and he had gotten used to it.

Yuya’s return got closer. And so his fear grew.

~

Yuya was furious when he got back home. Yuri shifted his eyes from the pot and looked at him, keeping a distance.

“I hate hospitals. They’re a den for raving lunatics.” he burst without even looking at him, starting to take his clothes off.

“What did they tell you?”

“They tended to the wound. The doctor said I should avoid exerting for another week, but that everything’s fine.” he turned to look at him. “Is lunch ready? I'm starving.”

“In a minute. You’ve got time for a cigarette.” he replied. “If you want.” he added then, lowering his eyes.

Yuya stared at him, irritated, then he sat on the couch.

“I called to tell you I was coming back.”

“You’ve asked for things which take a while to cook, Yuya. It’s not my fault.” Yuri replied, trying to keep his voice in check, not at all intentioned to make him mad for real.

The elder snorted, lighting a cigarette up, his eyes fixated on him. He turned the TV on, distractedly starting to watch it.

Then he got up, looking bored, and got behind him, grabbing his hips. Yuri barely managed not to jump and closed his eyes, feeling the yakuza’s long fingers caressing his hips.

He basked in the light touch of the fingertips against his skin. He leant forward, resting his hands on the edge of the sink, while the elder kissed the base of his neck, nibbling on it. Yuri kept a lip between his teeth while Yuya’s hand went up on his spine, scratching him, pushing him against the sink and then tightening around his neck, while the other hand made a quick work of his clothes.

The younger panted feeling Yuya’s fingers inside him so harshly, but tried to held back any pained sounds.

The hand holding him loosened a little while the yakuza pushed inside of him, moaning his name out loud, getting to a fast pace soon.

Yuya brought his arm around his neck, making him arch his back, and leant to speak in his ear.

“Can you feel it, Yuri?” he whispered, biting down on his shoulder, the hold on his neck tightening.

Yuri propped himself up on the sink with one hand, grabbing Yuya’s wrist with the other in the attempt of getting more air, unsuccessfully; meanwhile Takaki kept pushing inside of him, the other hand to the younger’s cock, stroking him without putting too much of an effort in it.

Yuri forced himself to come anyway. He didn’t want to fight against Yuya’s methods anymore, he was just too tired.

When he felt him come he felt relieved. As usual.

Yuya pulled back abruptly and he fell forward, his throat hurting and his legs shivering. He closed his eyes.

He wanted to let himself fall on the floor, but he forced himself not to. Yuya smiled and whistled, all of a sudden cheerful. So he got up and headed to the bathroom, washing himself up quickly before going back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

He ate quietly, and see Yuya’s indifference toward him hurt him even more.

~

He laid down on the bed.

It had been two weeks. And things hadn't changed from the first time they had had sex after the doctor’s ok.

He appreciated Yuya’s efforts. He didn’t hurt him anymore, he didn’t cut him, he didn’t torture him.

Not like before, at least.

Yuya was at work. He hadn't been home for two days, and the younger was almost starting to miss him.

He heard noises coming from the kitchen, something falling and a groan, more startled than pained.

He sighed, brushing a hand over his face. Then he got up and tiredly headed to the kitchen.

Kei was trying to clean the flour he had spilled.

“Is everything alright?” Yuri asked, stretching a smile and crouching down, helping him clean.

“Yes, I'm sorry Yuri.” the elder told him. “I wanted to cook for you, since you look tired, but I’ve made it worse.”

Yuri smiled to him a little more sincerely, and caressed his head; Kei took that very willingly.

“Don’t worry Kei, I'm not tired. I'm just...” he shrugged, unsure as to how to describe the way he felt. “It doesn’t matter. What would you like for dinner?” he asked in the end, as he finished cleaning.

“Ice-cream!” Kei uttered, raising his hand and chuckling.

Yuri sighed. Kei had the incredible capability of eating tons of ice-cream without feeling sick.

Before they met Kota was almost always out to work, so his boyfriend spent most of his days watching dramas and eating ice-cream.

“We’re not having ice-cream for dinner, Kei.” he laughed, while the elder sat at the table and watched him. “But I’ve got meat, soy sauce and a few vegetables. You like grilled vegetables, don’t you?”

Kei nodded, smiling.

“Kota does them pretty good. But yours aren't bad either, they’re okay with me.”

“Good. I better start cooking then, it’s late.” he did just that, while Kei repositioned to Yuya’s armchair, his legs up to his chest, watching TV.

Yuri stayed in front of the stove, watching the meat and vegetables cooking. Had he gotten close to Inoo, the latter was going to want to talk, and he didn’t want to. Despite everything, Kei was very sharp, and he realized right away when something was off.

He looked at his wrists. The bruises those shateis had left there when they had grabbed him and pushed him against the wall showed on the clear skin. When he had seen them, he had started wearing wristbands.

Yuya hadn't asked, after all Yuri was used to wearing them. He hated people’s stares when they saw his scars, and he couldn’t take their eyes full of compassion and pity only because he was Yuya’s whore.

He took the meat out and put it on two plates, adding the vegetables and bringing them to Kei in the living room; the elder went sitting with him at the table, leaving the TV on.

Yuri had just started eating when he heard yelling from outside. He held his breath, recognizing Yuya’s voice, and he let go of his chopsticks and he saw the door been opened abruptly.

Behind Yuya, Kota tried to hold him in vain, and the kid watched the yakuza walk menacingly toward him. He got up from the chair, backing off until the elder managed to grab his wrist and push him against the wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shouted out loud, a grim look on his face.

“What?” the younger hissed, trying to wiggle out, unsuccessfully. “What do you want?” he snarled then.

Yuya raised Yuri’s arm, taking the wristband off and letting the bruises show.

“This! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s nothing.” Yuri replied, finally freeing himself and getting away, massaging his wrist.

“Who did that? I want names.”

“What do I know? I woke up and they were there.” he lied. “I must’ve hit somewhere.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Yuri.” Yuya uttered even louder. “Tell me the names.”

“There’s nothing to say.” the younger insisted, relentless.

Yuri saw Yuya’s face redden as he bit his lip and clenched his fists. He saw him raise it, then bite down on his own hand, hard. He heard him take a couple of deep breaths, while Kota stood in an angle, his body tensed, ready to intervene; Kei was still at the table, and looked the scene in front of him with an unusually serious stare.

Yuri saw Yuya’s finger bleeding, but he just averted his eyes.

“I'm going to take a bath.” he snarled, walking past him and slamming the bathroom door behind himself.

Kota sighed in relief, falling down on a chair and taking out his cigarettes.

“Why did you tell him?” Yuri asked, his voice low.

“He heard the shateis talk about you in a way he didn’t like and he forced me to tell him what had happened.”

“You might’ve as well name names.” the younger muttered.

“Oh, he knows them. He just wanted you to tell him.” he said, taking in a deep hit off the cigarette.

“Why?” Chinen was confused.

Kota shrugged.

“No idea. It’s hard to understand what’s going on in his head.” he put the cigarette out, then he patted Kei’s shoulder a couple of times. “Let’s go home Kei, I'm tired.”

Kei nodded, grabbing the bowl and the chopsticks and putting them in the sink, filling them with water.

“That way they should wash more easily.” he said, smiling to the youngest of them.

“Thanks, Kei.” Yuri smiled back to him.

He walked them to the door, waving at them before closing it.

He was left alone. He rushed to tidy up the mess he and Kei had made that afternoon. The two yakuza had been in Kobe, and Yuri wasn’t expecting them back so early, since they should’ve stayed the night.

He put the coffee pot on. Usually, when Yuya got out of the bathroom, he drank his coffee, smoked a cigarette and then he either harassed him or he got to work; and right now, he was quite scared of what reactions he might have.

He sat at the table, trying to trick time with some math exercises and distractedly stirring his coffee. He sighed, brushing his hands over his face.

When he heard the bathroom lock click he pretended to be focused on what he was doing; Yuya walked next to him, the clean home clothes Yuri always put on the edge of the tub already on.

His long hair were damp, and the tank top was slightly wet under it.

He sat on the chair in front of him, turned his laptop, drank his coffee and lit up a cigarette, as expected.

They kept quiet for a long while.

“You should’ve told me right away.” Yuri heard him murmur.

“Why? I don’t want you to... hurt people on my account.” he shrugged, indifferent. “I'm not worth other people’s lives.” he muttered then, turning the page and continuing writing.

“But they...”

“They didn’t do anything.” he interrupted the elder, finally raising his eyes from the notepad. “Kota intervened and we all got home safe. He’s threatened them, I don’t think they’re going to bother me again.

“The point is they shouldn’t have dared. You’re mine. And no one touches my things.” Yuya insisted, obstinately.

“Mh.” Yuri averted his eyes from him, tightening a hand over his own knee, nervous. “What do you care, in the end? Things are just things, aren't they?”

Yuya stared at him, lowering the laptop’s screen.

“What do you mean?”

“That it’s pointless for you to get mad, Yuya. That things don’t...” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter whether other people touch them or not. They’re still things, no? That’s what’s gotten you so worked up, just say it. Because I'm your object, and that’s what I'm always going to be.” he uttered, loud enough, then he jumped up and made as to walk away.

The yakuza followed him, getting a hold of his wrist.

“Would you mind telling me what the hell you’re talking about, Yuri? I got mad because...”

“Because I'm your property, that’s why.” Yuri went on. “Because you bought me and because you’re having fun playing this game of me and you, and I don’t understand what we are and you don’t...” he stopped.

He was crying and panting. He didn’t understand why it felt so hard to breathe, all of a sudden.

He was panicking. And Yuya hated to see him cry. He hysterically dried his tears up, turning his back to the elder, who looked confusedly at him.

“Yuri, I got mad because... you belong with you. And I want to be with you as... well, as a man.”

Yuri turned abruptly, holding back a laughter, feeling even more hysterical.

“Man? You’ve been with me as a man for three years. Don’t bullshit me, Yuya!” he yelled.

“But... I've changed, haven’t I?” the yakuza asked, more confused than mad. “I made an effort to show you it could be different.”

“Yes, I know.” Yuri calmed down a little. “It’s just that...” he paused for a few moments, then he shook his head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Yuya grabbed his arm, delicately now, and bit his tongue while he saw the younger hesitate.

“You’ve got to tell me stuff, Yuri, because I'm trying to change, but you need to point out what I'm doing wrong.”

The kid wiggled out of his hold and went sitting on the couch, the knees up to his chest, thoughtful.

“Well... it feels the same.” he admitted. “Aside from sex, of course.” he rushed to say, seeing the elder’s scowl. “You keep ordering me around, yelling at me, treating me as if everything should always go your way.” he murmured.

Yuya kept standing for a while, then he sat on the opposite end of the couch, crossing his arms.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, dry.

“I wish you didn’t give me orders anymore. And... well, you could ask me if I'm in the mood for it.” he muttered.

“In the mood for what?”

“Sex. That... well, that hasn’t changed, Yuya.”

“Fine.” he said, without looking at him. “That’s okay. Any other request?” he asked, the same tone as before.

Yuri bowed his head and shook it.

“I thought you would’ve appreciated my efforts. It’s hard for me Yuri, I...” he clenched his fist. “It’s the first time for me.” he admitted, unwillingly.

“Why are you doing all of this, Yuya?” Yuri asked, tired. “Why bother?”

“I'm trying to change. For real.” the elder repeated. “I like you, Yuri, I...” he took a deep breath. “I love you.”

Yuri raised his head and smiled, sadly.

“Stop messing with me, Yuya.” he murmured.

“I'm not.” the elder uttered. “I'm serious. I do love you.” he repeated. “And I really want to be better for you.”

“I just want to stop being afraid. I used to know what to expect, our routine, while now... I don’t. I'm always scared you’re going to lose it and...” he stopped, biting on his lower lip.

“I've made you a promise, Yuri. And you know I always keep my promises.”

“Perhaps it’s not enough.” the younger said, his voice barely audible.

Yuya opened his eyes wide and kept quiet for a few moments, then he smiled.

“I thought so.” he chuckled. “Yes, I knew it. It’s normal, I guess.” he hit his hands on his knees. “I think I'm going to have a bath.”

“Another one?” Yuri murmured instinctively, staring at him.

Yuya shrugged.

“Can I?” he asked.

“I’ll go setting everything.” the younger offered as he stood up, but Yuya gently pushed him back on the couch.

“I'm perfectly capable of turning the tap on my own.” he said, but he stood still.

Yuri pressed his forehead against his legs.

“You can go, if you want.” Yuya said all of a sudden, without looking at him. “You can... go away, if you desire so.”

“I don’t want to leave, Yuya.” Yuri stared at him, his eyes wide open.

“Then why do you keep looking so depressed? Why can't I make you happy?” Yuya got mad, as he finally looked at him. “That’s all I want, for you to be happy. Always.” his breath was short. “And if I can't, then you should go somewhere where you can.”

“I want to be with you.” Yuri replied, getting on his knees on the couch and leaning toward him. “Had I wanted to leave, I would’ve followed Hikaru. I... it’s you I want, I told you.”

“But I don’t want to see you sad. I know it’s wrong but when I took you... I don’t know. Maybe you reminded me of myself a little. I couldn’t let you be like that.”

Yuri opened his mouth to reply, then he closed it again and closed his eyes. He got even closer to him and signalled him to lay on the couch, then he crouched up against him, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“I believe you, Yuya. And I'm happy here, you have to believe me.”

The elder’s hand slowly moved on his hip, caressing his soft skin. Yuri held tight onto the fabric of Yuya’s shirt, pressing himself further against him.

“What can I do to really make you happy?” the yakuza murmured in his ear.

He held him tight; Yuri was so small he disappeared against him.

“I like it when you hold me, Yuya.” the younger admitted, without raising his face or letting go of him.

The elder let out a nervous chuckle, and didn’t stop. He brought his hand under his shirt, brushing the naked skin of his hip and back and leant down to kiss his forehead. Yuri rolled his head back, allowing Yuya’s lips to reach his neck, kissing it and biting softly on it.

Yuya’s hand ventured down, touching lightly the soft skin of his groin, keeping away from his cock, half-hard already. Yuri moaned softly, biting Yuya’s shirt and moving against his hand, trying to get more.

“Do you want to?” the elder murmured in his ear.

Yuri nodded, then he raised his head and kissed him, greedily. Yuya grabbed his hips and brought him on top of himself, kissing him back with the same rush while he was still touching him.

He brushed his fingernails up his back, without hurting him; he rolled his head back and let Yuri kiss his neck, bite it, as he held on to his shoulders, moving his hips against the elder’s.

Yuya took his shirt off and Yuri took care of his pants until he was naked on top of him.

The yakuza took a few moments to look at him and touch him, until his hand moved lower weakly wrapping around his cock.

Yuri’s hands held even tighter onto his shoulders, and Yuya felt his fingernails dig into his flesh and moaned his name, softly.

Yuya stroked him faster, as his other hand slipped up Yuri’s chest and reached his mouth, pushing inside so that the younger could make them wet. Yuri opened his lips and let them in, sucking and licking on them, moving all his weight on his palms, resting on Yuya’s chest.

The elder stared at him as his fingers went in and out of his mouth, Yuri’s tongue sultrily wetting them. The yakuza bit his tongue and tightened his hold on the younger’s cock, while he brought his fingers to the younger’s rim, prepping him fast.

Yuri’s moans got louder, but then Yuya’s hand was gone from inside him and relocated to his hip, his fingers digging into his flesh.

Yuri got up from him, quickly, and rushed to free him from his clothes; then he laid back on top, feeling Yuya’s cock pressing hard against his stomach. He slipped down to his leg and took it into his mouth, sucking on it right away.

Yuya pushed him away almost immediately, groaning and pulling him back on his lap as he started to push inside of him. Yuri clenched his eyes and bit his lip, while Yuya had started touching him again to distract him.

He pushed inside slowly, trying to will himself to give him time to adjust to the intrusion. He grabbed his waist, and all he wanted was to dig his fingernails into his pale skin, to see the red marks of his fingers on him again.

But he had promised. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and loosening the hold on him, focusing on the hoarse voice moaning his name, making him feel aroused as hell, and he started thrusting a little harder inside of him.

It didn’t take Yuri long to come on his chest, but instead of letting him collapse Yuya made him back off a little, his hands resting on his knees. He wanted him to feel him completely, deep, he wanted to let him see he could satisfy him, and that he was capable of getting turned on without necessarily having to hurt him.

He rolled his head back and thrust his hips up hard, as much as he could, and a short while later he was spilling inside of Yuri.

Yuri slowly got off of him, unwillingly, and laid down next to him, letting the yakuza hug him again, ignoring the mess.

Yuri closed his eyes, caressing his neck and collarbone. He smiled, like an idiot.

“Why are you laughing?” Yuya asked low, caressing his face and brushing his hair off his forehead.

“I'm happy.” he admitted, without looking at him. “I'm almost afraid this isn't real.”

Yuya’s arms tightened around him, he held him even closer against himself as if to prevent him from getting away.

“You don’t have to be afraid. Remember the promise.”

The younger nodded, as the smile grew wider.

“I love you too.” he whispered, hiding his face against the elder’s chest.

Yuya tried to keep himself in check, while his hands tightened on his flesh.

“Really?” he murmured in his ear.

“Yes. Really.” Yuri replied, low. “I love you.” he said again.

They kept quiet for a while, then Yuya snorted.

“I'd say now we really have to take a bath before going to bed.” he complained, looking at himself.

“Definitely.” Yuri chuckled.

“You can wash my hair.” the elder suddenly sounded excited. “And my back. Ah, no one ever did that!”

Yuri smiled and nodded. He raised his eyes on him, shyly.

“You could...” he sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing.” he sat up, trying to leave, but Yuya grabbed his hips and pulled him close again.

“Come on, tell me. Didn’t we say we should be able to tell each other stuff?”

“You could wash my hair, if you feel like it. I like when you touch my hair, so...” he noticed Yuya’s surprise, and he got nervous. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s stupid, I'm sorry.” he murmured, fidgeting.

“No, it’s not. We’re together now, aren't we? And I like touching your hair too. I can wash your back as well, want me to?” he asked then, his tone so innocent that Yuri was almost speechless.

“Y-yes. Of course.”

“Good.” he patted his butt. “Then go set everything. I’ll go take some clean clothes.” he got up and, whistling, he disappeared into the bedroom.

Yuri kept still, stunned. His smile hadn't disappeared yet, and he wished it never had to.

Chapter 03

Kei woke up early. He sat up, brushing his eyes. The night before he had fallen asleep late because he wanted to be with Kota, watching a movie.

They hadn't spent time together in a while, and he had promised to himself he was going to make a genuine effort to make their relationship better.

He knew that, after all, Kota hadn't really been happy the past eight years, and that thought made him feel bad. Because since he had known him, he had always wished for his boyfriend to be happy.

From time to time he dreamed about when they were still in school, when their life was still simple, serene, unmarked by Kota’s job, by his medicines and the visits to the hospital.

That night he had dreamt about it too. And the awakening hadn't been the best, on the contrary. He got up and went taking a quick shower.

He had to do a lot of stuff; grocery shopping, cleaning and catch up with a few dramas. Perhaps he would’ve sent Yuri a mail and asked him if he wanted to meet that morning.

Done with the shower he took some rice from the cooker. It was cold, who knew at what time Kota had made it that morning.

He ate, unwillingly. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he knew he had to eat anyway, or he was going to feel uneasy.

And that he would’ve seen that concerned look in Kota’s eyes, and he really didn’t want that.

He put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then he grabbed a hat, pulling it down to his glassed, and he went out.

He rushed inside the conbini. Thanks to the drugs keeping the anxiety in check, most of the days he managed to live a normal life.

The problem, were the bad days. When he woke up screaming in the dead of the night, when everybody looked like a threat.

When nightmares tortured him to the point that even Kota was incapable of making him feel better.

But luckily, it had been fine for a few weeks now.

He grabbed a crate of water, hoping he was going to be able to take it home. It wasn’t far, less than a mile, but he his arms had never been too strong.

He sighed, heading to checkout, dragging the crate and the shopping cart.

As he was putting the groceries inside the bags, he saw Yuya walk inside the conbini, the sunglasses on and his hands in his pockets, the usual bored look on his face. He looked around for a while, before acknowledging Kei’s presence.

Kei saw him click his tongue, then he ignored him. The younger rolled his eyes, nervous, and went on putting his groceries into bags.

After less than a minute Yuya reached him at checkout, putting a chocolate bar and a crate of water on the counter. He kept looking around, nonchalant and apparently not at all intentioned to talk to Inoo.

Kei got annoyed and, without saying a word, he grabbed his bags and the water, leaving the store. Yuya stared at him for a while, with an amused smile on his face, while the younger plodded along the street.

He grabbed his crate and reached him. Without saying anything he took his crate as well, and headed toward Kei’s and Kota’s home.

“Hey!” Kei uttered, walking faster. “What are you doing? Give me that back, you idiot.” he told him sourly, trying to recover the crate.

Yuya stepped aside, snorting theatrically.

“Don’t bust my balls. I'm helping, am I not?” he uttered. “Do you have some problem with me carrying your water?”

Kei shut up and stared at him for a moment, then he tightened the hold on his bags and went on walking.

“I could’ve done that on my own.” he complained.

“Of course. With those skinny arms of yours.” Yuya muttered. “You can barely carry the groceries, go figure two crates of water.”

“It’s one, can't you count?”

“Who do you think this is for?” he nodded toward the crate he had bought. “I figured you could’ve stocked up, since I was there.”

“I don’t need any special treatment from you.”

“I wish Kota could hear you. I always told him you only like to play the retard.” the elder snorted.

Kei kept quiet, then he lowered his head and kept walking next to him; they didn’t say another word until they reached the building’s front door. Kei opened it and then they went up to their floor.

“I didn’t have time to tidy up this morning.” Kei muttered without turning around, taking off his shoes and heading toward the kitchen.

Yuya shook his head, very little interested to the state his apartment was in. He went straight to the pantry, putting the crates of water on the floor, then he joined Kei back in the kitchen.

“Give me some water, I'm parched.” he asked him, collapsing on a chair.

Kei raised his eyes on the yakuza, frowning.

“Take the bottle, a glass and drink if you want.” he muttered, without paying too much attention to him.

Yuya stared at him for a while, then he grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer.

“I'm tired of this attitude, Kei. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

The younger grinned, disdainful.

“I told you what I had to tell you three years ago, Yuya.” he hissed, and Yuya let him go as if he was burning.

“So things haven’t changed for you.” he stated, his voice flat.

“Think I would forgive a rapist?” the younger snarled, looking at him with hatred. “You’re just like everybody else, Yuya. You’ve played the part of the friend with me, but in the end you’ve proven you’re just an animal. Yuri would’ve been better off dead than with you.” he spat.

Yuya kept quiet, his mind blank.

He missed the relationship he used to have with Kei. He missed coming over when Kota was working, and spending the day on the couch, watching a movie or a drama together, stuffing themselves with chips and ice-cream, and he missed the way they ganged up on Yabu together.

He had always known Kei wasn’t going to take his decision to take Yuri, but he hadn't imagined, three years before, that he was going to have to live with his despise for this long.

He turned his back on him, he put his shoes on and he left the apartment. He wished he would’ve heard Kei’s voice stopping him, telling him that it was time to make things clear, but Yuya had never believed in miracles.

So he got back on the street, the sun too hot, a weight on his chest he wasn’t used to, and Kei was nowhere in sight.

~

Yuri stopped in the middle of the road, doubt and confusion on his face. He had just gotten out of the conbini, when he had seen Yuya head inside. It was rare for the yakuza to go there, since he didn’t have the first clue as to how go grocery shopping. He had been about to cross the street to reach him, when he saw him get out, two crates of water in his hands and Kei following him, looking irritated.

He was floored; in the three years he had known, he could count on one hand the times they had spoken to each other.

He saw them argue and then head to the younger’s house.

He wanted to do something, but it felt as if his legs weren’t working, and he wondered why he was feeling like that.

He trusted Yuya, he knew he felt absolutely nothing for Kei, but at the same time he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach.

He went back home in a rush, wondering if it was actually jealousy.

He closed the door behind his back and closed his eyes. He threw a quick glance at the clock.

He wanted to call Yuya, tell him to get back home because he felt sick, and he knew he would’ve felt better the moment he would’ve seen him walk through the door.

But he kept still, without knowing what to do, say or think. He felt his breathing troubled, while the uncomfortable images of Kei and Yuya naked in bed tormented him, still knowing they would’ve both cut off their legs before doing something like that.

He sat on the couch and lit up a cigarette. He kept staring at the wall in front of him for a few minutes, then he resolved to grab the remote and try and watch something on TV.

It was afternoon, and there was nothing interesting on. At times like these he would’ve usually called Kei, but this time he kept staring at his cell as if he was scared it was about to ring.

He slapped himself a couple of times to try and get a grip. It was impossible.

Yuya hated Kei, with all himself. Every time he was around he was nervous, as if his presence bothered him on some level.

Kota, after the initial complaints, had soon let him be, Yuri remembered quite well a fight the two yakuza had had a few days after his arrival.

Yuri was crouching on the bed, bleeding, and Kota had arrived unannounced. He had seen Yuri, and the younger had quickly covered himself, too ashamed to be seen like that.

Kota had snorted, he had brushed his hair off his face and then he had stared at Yuya, nervously.

He had grabbed his wrist and had dragged him out. Yuri couldn’t hear much, but he remembered that the subject had been Kei.

He tried to keep his mind off of this. Going back to those days wasn’t going to help.

He sighed, checking the time again. Yuya had been out for almost two hours now.

He rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling.

He just hoped he was going to come back home soon.

~

Yuya held the knife tight in his hand and closed his eyes. He focused on the laboured breath of the boy beneath him, feeling good again.

He could feel his terror and it made him feel powerful, as it had always been, as it had been right once, before he tried to be different, to be better.

But Kei was right. He was a heartless and soulless monster, and that was never going to change. He could’ve played all the games in the world but, in the end, what really pleased him was to have a naked body tied to the bed, while he held a knife and brushed the blade over the immaculate skin, staring at the blood running over it.

He pressed the blade against the shoulder blades, watching them closely. They were so white and pure, even though it mustn’t have been the first time someone hurt that body.

And Yuya felt strong, good.

Right now, he belonged to him.

He saw the younger’s twitches, and watched as he tried to loosen the ropes keeping him against the headboard.

The smile on the yakuza’s face grew and the blade pressed harder, until he saw the first droplets of blood.

His hand slipped on his hip, leaving a cut there as well, this one bleeding more profusely.

Yuya took the blade away, and looked at that body, satisfied.

Yes, Kei was fucking right. He was a monster, and not even his appearance as a nice boyfriend had managed to tame the animal roaring in his chest.

He felt his own heartbeat grow faster, and he cut again. It was fast and abrupt, and the boy under him screamed, his body tensing for the pain.

Yuya turned him around, as much as the ropes allowed him, and he raised a hand, letting it hit his face. He slapped him once, twice, three times, until his face was a mask of blood as well.

“I don’t like whines.” he murmured, irritated.

The boy bit his lip, nodding hysterically, trying to stop his tears, and then Yuya started hurting him again, hitting him when his pained groans bothered him too much.

He got disgusted at himself when he realized he was hard. He turned the boy around again, pressing his face against the mattress, knowing that he could’ve come only if he wasn’t going to look at it.

He focused on the bleeding back and pulled his pants down, brushing one hand down the boy’s spine and bringing the other hand to his cock.

He stoked himself fast, digging his fingers in his victim’s injured flesh, as the younger sobbed quietly.

He closed his eyes, because it was easier, and knelt between his legs. He came all over his back, staining it even further, moaning Yuri’s name.

He kept still, trying to breath normally and to repress the hatred he felt for himself.

He freed the boy quickly and fixed his own clothes. He left some money on the bed, and he rushed out of the building.

~

Yuri woke up abruptly when he heard the front door opening. Dinner time had come and gone and he, tired of waiting for Yuya, had ate something and then he had fallen asleep on the couch, too irritated to bother reaching the bed.

He watched the elder walk in, trying to get hints about his mood. He didn’t want to say anything that would’ve risked making him even more nervous.

“I'm home.” he heard him mutter while he took his shoes off, leaving them in the entrance.

The younger reached him, showing him an unsure smile, which Yuya most likely took for sleepy.

“Welcome back.” he murmured.

Yuya didn’t pay much attention to him, a quick peck to his lips before heading to the kitchen, inspecting the fridge.

“All the food’s cold.” Yuya complained.

“Of course it is. It’s past eleven.” the younger replied, annoyed.

The elder didn’t even turn around, and he kept looking as if the fridge was going to cook something for him.

“Fix something up, then. I'm starving.” he ordered in the end, slamming the door closed.

Yuri snorted again, but without saying anything he started cooking, trying to make as quick as possible. He was tired and annoyed, and it looked like Yuya hadn't noticed at all.

The kid saw him take his clothes off in front of the bathroom door, abandoning them on the floor. Yuri closed his eyes, swallowing a curse. He spent his day cleaning after him, and he refused to believe that it was so hard for the yakuza to put the dirty clothes with the laundry.

He lowered the flame under the pot on the stove, to give himself some time to pick up Yuya’s stuff. He put the clothes on the armchair, for the time being.

Then, he noticed the blood on the cuff.

Yuri raised an eyebrow, confused. That day, in theory, Yuya had to work the whole day at the office, so he didn’t understand how the stain had gotten there.

He bit his lip, but he went back cooking anyway, deciding he was going to think about it later.

Yuya would’ve been even more unbearable if he hadn't found his food on the table, and Yuri was not in the mood to stand him, not tonight.

He put the plate down the moment Yuya got out of the bathroom, and when he walked inside the kitchen his eyes fell on his right wrist immediately. He didn’t see cuts or anything.

He closed his eyes for a moment and then, with his usual tired smile, he sat in front of him as the yakuza started eating.

After dinner Yuya went sitting on the couch while, again, Yuri washed the dishes. He put the dirty clothes away, unable to avoid looking at the blood once again.

He felt tired, exhausted, he couldn’t bring himself to think.

He went back to the living room and sat on the armchair, far from Yuya, who still kept not noticing anything strange.

Yuri crossed his arms, distractedly watching the TV, snorting from time to time. When Yuya decided to get to bed, they laid down without saying anything more than ‘goodnight’.

Yuri couldn’t really sleep, he had too many stuff going through his mind. When he was sure Yuya was sleeping he got up, he went to the couch, bringing his legs up to his knees and lighting up a cigarette, in the quietness of the night.

He felt like crying, vent, but he couldn’t. He despised himself. He hid his face between his legs, taking deep breaths in the attempt at calming down.

He stayed alone for a few minutes, then he heard Yuya walking toward the room and leaning against the doorstep, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

“Why aren't you in bed?” he asked, yawning.

“I wasn’t sleepy.” Yuri replied, shrugging.

Yuya yawned again and went sitting next to him.

“Something on your mind?”

“No. Should it?” the younger asked, nervous.

“Don’t know. You’ve been out of it for a few days.”

“I’ve been thinking... about stuff.” Chinen tried to tell him, without even knowing what exactly he was talking about.

Between the two of them, Yuya was the one out of it in his opinion.

“Like what?”

“School.” Yuri confessed, saying the first thing that got to his mind, even though right now he didn’t really feel like talking about school.

He knew Yuya wasn’t going to approve, but it was better than what he was actually thinking.

“School? What do you mean? Why do you care so much?” the yakuza asked, wholly awake now.

Yuri shrugged.

“Well, I’ve missed three years, and there are the tests to be admitted to second year of high school in a while. I thought... I don’t know, I could try it. I've got some money for the books. I thought I could go to the public school here in Kabuki-cho.” he said in a rush, hoping Yuya wasn’t going to interrupt him.

Takaki stared at him for a while, bewildered, then he burst out laughing coarsely. He got up and turned the light on, and when he got back on the couch he was still laughing.

The younger looked at him, annoyed, and lit up another cigarette.

“Why this crazy idea now? You don’t need school. You can do whatever you want, I just need to order it to someone in the neighbourhood.”

“I don’t want you to. I want a degree and I want to look for a job on my own. Out of here. I don’t like Kabuki-cho, you know that.”

“Well it’s here you’ve practically grown up, right? You should at least acknowledge that.” Yuya spat, sourly, and he wasn’t laughing anymore.

Yuri bit hard on his tongue to prevent himself from replying.

He hadn't grown up there, he had grown up in Meguro, with parents who had always skilfully pretended to love him.

He had grown up going to a nice private school, with his friends, with everything he could’ve possibly wanted.

He had gotten himself to San’ya before and into that house later by accident. Just because Yuya was a sadistic paedophile who wanted a nice thing to clean the house and spread his legs everytime he felt like it.

He closed his eyes, swallowing down every word that came to his mind. Yuya didn’t like to talk about before, and he didn’t want to put him in a worse mood than this.

“I want to go to school, Yuya. Please, it’s all I ask.”

“Absolutely not. Who’s going to think about the house then? Who’s going to cook?”

“Me. I don’t need any extracurricular hour, I’ll be there just in the morning. I really want it.”

“It’s crap. You don’t need to go.” the yakuza insisted.

Yuri sighed, massaging his temples.

Why couldn’t Yuya change? Why did he have to make everything personal, why couldn’t take a moment to focus on what Yuri wanted?

“I'm going, Yuya, whether you want it or not.” he snarled, turning to look at him.

The elder grabbed his collar and pulled him close.

“If I say you won’t go, rest assured Yuri, you will never set foot inside a school. It’s my decision.”

“Since when? Just because you don’t like school it doesn’t mean you have to forbid me to live my life and build a future. I'm tired of this nice façade, Yuya, if everything has to stay the same anyway!” he yelled, running to the bedroom and getting under the blanket, turning his back on the door.

“So what do you want to do?” the elder asked, reaching him. “Want to throw everything to the wind?”

The younger sat up, looking at him. He bit his lower lip, while Yuya didn’t tear his eyes from him.

He was terrified, he was not ashamed to admit it. He was scared to go back to how it was before, but at least he would’ve stopped feeling constantly betrayed by  a sensibility that Yuya didn’t have, that he was never going to have.

He would’ve stopped hoping into something more, he would’ve stopped believing that perhaps one day the elder was truly going to see him as something important.

And he would’ve suffered less. He would’ve started sleeping again, because if everything were to go back the way he was before, he wouldn’t have had any thought to keep him awake.

Nothing would’ve mattered anymore.

“It’s alright.” he hissed. “It’s alright if everything go back the way it was.”

Yuya grabbed his chin, holding so tight that it hurt, but Yuri bit his tongue to avoid making any sound.

The elder grabbed his neck next and pushed him to the centre of the bed, tearing his pyjama off of him, grabbing his hips and digging his fingernails in, scratching him and making him bleed.

Yuri clenched his eyes, holding the sheets tight in his hands, biting hard on his lips.

It was alright. It was the only way, he had always known that. He had hoped things could’ve been better only because he loved him so much it hurt, way worse than this.

Yuya’s fingernails ran down his chest, torturing it as it was used to.

He groaned softly as he felt the wounds bleed, and then Yuya turned him around, pressing his face against the pillow, and Yuri bit the case, because he didn’t want to make another sound, or he knew Yuya’s madness would’ve unleashed. He felt him caress his back, softly, and he clenched his eyes even harder. He didn’t know what was to come, he didn’t know what he was going to go through, he didn’t know how mad Yuya actually was.

The yakuza’s fingertips brushed his wounds, drying up the blood, then they moved down to his butt and his thigs.

Yuri felt him lean over him, his forehead pressed against the back of his neck.

“Why are you doing this to me, Yu?” he heard him whisper, so low that he was almost sure he had dreamt it.

“Because it’s fine. Because I'm tired of being disappointed by the people I love.” he murmured, while he cried quietly.

Yuya’s hands gently tightened around his shoulders, and Yuri cracked his eyes open.

“I'm going to learn. I just need time.” he turned him around again and hugged him. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Yu.” he admitted, without looking at him. “This is what you don’t get. You’re sure I'm not making any sacrifices, but I am.” he sighed, staring at him now.

But the younger kept quiet, and the silence was crushing Yuya.

“I want your happiness, Yuri. And I really want it, that’s why I’ve kept telling you you should go with someone who’s capable of making you happy.”

His arms tightened even more around the kid’s naked and small body, and Yuya felt the younger do the same, as he shook his head.

“For better or worse, I’ll be with you. And if I have to give up on something to do so, I don’t care. Mine are just whims.” he pulled away a little, smiling to him and drying up his face. “I promise you won’t hear about it again.”

Yuya barely smiled back. He didn’t feel good. He had never fallen in love, he had never had someone loving him, so much, unconditionally.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say and when, because this thing with Yuri was all new to him. It was the first time he had felt so clueless.

He nodded, and hugged him again.

He leant his head down, pressing his lips against the younger’s, and he actually felt better when he felt how tender and soft his mouth was while it kissed him back.

He felt good when Yuri’s hands started caressing his back, when he felt his body press against his own, claiming his attentions, a different kind now.

Yuya kept kissing him and touching him, until he heard the kid’s moans grow more urgent, then he moved his mouth down his chest, trying to ignore the signs of his passage there, and moved down to his cock, wrapping his mouth around it.

Yuri panted, weakly gripping Yuya’s hair and moving slowly inside his mouth, so hot that he felt it wouldn’t have taken him long to come, while the yakuza’s fingers pressed inside of him, preparing him carefully.

Yuya liked to have sex with Yuri while looking at his face. Lately he had discovered that looking at it, twisted by pleasure, was relaxing and it made him feel good, he managed to ignore the weight on his chest.

He pushed inside of him slowly, because he didn’t want to hurt him again, and he focused on the look on his face and on his moans as he started to thrust, pulling almost all the way out and the pushing back inside.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking it at the same pace of his thrusts inside that body he adored, until he felt him come, spilling on his hand, his head thrown back and a sound of pure pleasure on his lips, hoarse and incredibly arousing.

He grabbed his hips, feeling Yuri’s legs wrapped around him as he held on to him.

He kept thrusting, faster and faster, until he spilled inside of him with an animal-like sound.

He kept his hands tight on him for a few moments, as he tried to recover his breath. Then he laid down next to him, the younger nestling against him.

“I love you.” the yakuza heard him whisper.

He breathed in deeply and held him tight, without looking at him. He stared at the ceiling, listening to Yuri’s breathing.

“I love you too.” he answered after a while.

He could feel Yuri smile and he could imagine it. He felt sick at the thought of what he was hiding, of what he had done that afternoon, what he most likely would’ve done again.

Because Yuri didn’t want to be disappointed by the people he loved anymore, and Yuya didn’t want to disappoint him.

But that was a side of him, it existed and it pushed to come out. Yuya was only glad it had stopped coming out with Yuri.

And, hoping it was never going to happen again, he fell asleep with the kid close to him.

Chapter 04

Yabu got back home tired, more than usual. He had worked until late because Yuya had decided to disappear for the whole afternoon, leaving him alone to do everything. He wasn’t even done, which made him quite nervous.

He slammed the door behind his back, taking his shoes off and hanging the jacket, walking inside the living room in the complete darkness; Kei must’ve already gotten to bed, he though.

Instead he found him sitting on the couch, smoking, his knees up to his chest, and he got nervous, not knowing in what state he was.

“Kei-chan?” he called, keeping a safety distance, trying to ascertain if the bomb was actually going to go off. He turned the light on and his boyfriend seemed to get back to himself. “Is everything alright?”

Kei raised his eyes on him, blinking a couple of times, then he smiled tenderly to him.

“Of course, Ko. I was waiting for you, I don’t like to go to bed alone.”

The elder smiled back to him.

“I'm sorry I'm late. I haven’t seen Yuya the whole day, and I’ve had to work alone.” he justified himself.

“He was here today, around noon. I ran into him at the conbini.”

His boyfriend looked at him, even more confused, watching him crush the stub and lit up another cigarette.

“Yuya? He hadn't been here in a while.” he commented, cautious, not knowing what was going through Kei’s mind; the younger anyway, nodded and kept quiet. “Did the two of you talk?” Yabu went on, as if he was speaking alone.

Kei shrugged.

“He took the water home.” he puffed the smoke out. “I was uncomfortable, and we argued. Then he left.”

Kota sat next to him, taking a cigarette for himself. He looked at the packet, sadly empty. Kei laid on him, resting his head on knees, and the elder started caressing his hair, knowing it used to calm him down.

“I miss him.” Kei admitted, low.

“I know.” Yabu murmured.

“I can't forgive him for what he’s done to Yuri, he... he didn’t deserve so much pain.” Kei whispered.

“I know.” the elder said again, his hand still brushing Kei’s hair back.

He wished he could’ve done something to make the two of them make up, but he didn’t know how. He had been floored as well when he had found out Yuya had bought the kid, and even knowing about the yakuza’s past, about the pain he had had to deal with, he couldn’t justify him; especially not with what he had had to go through with Kei.

He understood, almost, that in Yuya’s mind it was right, that it was normal, and he tried his best to nod and keep quiet whenever the elder said he had saved Yuri by taking him away from the warehouse, where the best thing that could’ve happened to him was to die; that sex had come after. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell Kei that things had changed, that they were better, because that didn’t erase the years of torture Yuri had been subjected to.

He sighed; he didn’t understand Yuri either, he didn’t understand how he had managed to fall in love with Yuya, not with all the violence he had experimented.

Perhaps, he thought, it was a mechanism of defence, a way his brain had found to avoid going crazy, to avoid the level of depression Kei had reached.

He smiled to his boyfriend.

He leant down to kiss him and, after a moment of hesitation, Kei kissed him back.

Kota smiled again. He wanted to have sex with him, to touch him, to feel him around himself as he took him and thrust inside of him.

He wanted something more, but he definitely didn’t feel like ending up inside the bathroom, leaning against the door as he reached a hardly satisfying climax, then having to go back to soothe a crying Kei.

He made that kiss suffice and then he put out the cigarette in the ashtray, the younger doing the same.

“Let’s get to bed, it’s late.” he whispered in the end, the smile never leaving his face.

Kei nodded and stood up, walking to the other room and throwing himself on the bed, holding his pillow tight as he watched Kota change. The elder then joined him, and fell asleep holding Kei in his arms.

~

Kei tightened his fingers around the coffee cup, throwing a few glances at Yuri, while the younger ate some breakfast at the coffee place close to his apartment.

He had been observing him for a while, trying to understand his relationship with Yuya, to understand whether he was supposed to do something about it.

He sighed, and Yuri raised his eyes on him.

“Is there something wrong, Kei?” he asked.

Inoo smiled and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t sleep well tonight, and I'm still a bit out of it.” he kept quiet for a few seconds. “Yuri, are you happy?”

Yuri raised his eyes again and opened his eyes wide. He thought about the argument he had had with Yuya last week, and how he could still feel the wounds on his hips and  chest.

He thought about how bad it had felt to have Yuya impose his ideas on him, and he felt a weight on his stomach.

The past few days had been weird; it was like Yuya was studying from some manual ways to actually make him happy.

He didn’t know whether he was happy in the way Kei was asking about, but he didn’t want to complain with him, not after having seen them together that day and Yuya had then disappeared for the whole afternoon.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Kei shrugged.

“I don’t know. I'm worried about Yuya’s decision. I don’t know what to think about him.”

“Since the two of you barely speak to each other, it’s hard for you to form an opinion, isn't it?” the younger replied sourly.

Kei blushed.

“I do have an opinion. And it’s because I know Yuya that I'm saying this isn't normal.”

“People change. And he’s trying to change. What’s wrong with that?”

Kei hesitated, shaking his head.

“He’s done things I didn’t expect of him.” he murmured. “When he’s bought you, Kota and I were floored. He’s treated you like an animal.”

Yuri fidgeted. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want the memories from those months, especially the first ones, to flood his mind.

He had struggled hard to allow himself to forget or, at the very least, to try and not be obsessed by it. Despite his sacrifices, there were nights where his past haunted him, it visited his nightmares and reminded him of what he had been going through with Yuya.

He stood up, nervous, banging his hand hard on the table, and Kei backed off instinctively.

The younger closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying not to scare him. He was mad at himself, because he allowed every single insinuation about his relationship with Yuya to make him waver.

But Kei didn’t know what he was going through his mind, he didn’t know that everything was hanging on a thread so thin that Yuri felt sick only thinking about it.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured, and Kei got closer again, with the same slowness, and got to his side. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that I… I'm trying to pretend everything’s fine, but...”

He clenched his eyes tighter and his fists as well, searching for the right words to say, to make Kei understand what was happening, but words died on his tongue.

“That’s okay, Yuri.” the elder whispered, resting his hand on his shoulder, caressing him slowly. “You don’t have to keep everything in, you can talk to me.”

Yuri kept staring at the table, his eyes watery, while the feeling of impotence and of having failed was crushing him.

The only thing Kei got was a hug, followed by him crying.

The elder hugged him back, hesitating, and didn’t say a word.

Despite everything, he knew that no soothing words nor accusations toward the yakuza were going to help him.

~

Kei had to admit that pretending to be a little denser than he actually was had always been his thing. It amused Kota, before the rape and a few years later, when Kei seemed to have partially recovered.

When he was Yuya’s friend, he liked to use that attitude on him as well, because the yakuza liked it somehow, and it allowed him to show to Kei crumbs of his humanity and sensibility left there from his past and the horrors of his job.

Kei had believed in it. And with what he had done, the exact moment he had bought Yuri, the elder had disappointed them all.

During the past three years he had tried to help the younger; he liked to believe that seeing him wear that mask to survive his past, the violence, had made Yuri strong enough to bear with what Yuya did to him.

Kei didn’t doubt for a moment that Yuri wore scars beyond the visible ones, those more difficult to ignore.

Because the cuts, the bruises and the burns, he could ignore those. Whenever he showered or got dressed he could close his eyes and pretend he didn’t have them on.

But the invisible scars, those he couldn’t ignore; they were there. Thin, smooth, and they grew every day, and trying not to think about them was impossible.

Yuri was bound to think about them every time he pondered about his life. He was going to feel their weight, their humiliation, he was going to feel the acrid taste of his own blood.

After having taken him home and made sure he was better and that his crisis was over, after having heard what the problem actually was, Kei had stood still for a few moments in front of their building, pondering as to what to do.

He had sighed and had brought his hands over his face, massaging his temples. Then he had checked the clock and had headed toward the building where Yuya worked.

Kei walked inside the huge building in the middle of Kabuki-cho. It was quite far from his apartment, the neighbourhood was made almost entirely by yakuza and their family. Only a few of them were out of the loop, only a few businesses had escaped the tight vice of the yakuza.

The rest of them had abandoned a long time ago to the system, which worked as law for them. No one there trusted the police. For whatever problem, they went to the family.

Kei closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t like to be far from home, from the only place which made him feel safe from the evil in the world.

He opened the door, determined. There weren’t many people inside, and Kei knew almost all of them.

Yuya and Kota were there too, surrounded by the elder’s shatei, the most trusted ones. Kota jumped up when he saw him, worry on his face, because Kei hadn't been there in years. But for once, Inoo wasn’t looking at his boyfriend. Also, he looked far more serious than he had in a long time.

He was ready to show Yuya he was tired of his arrogance with Yuri. Because even though his mind wasn’t going to change, it wasn’t fair for Yuri to keep being hurt by a man who didn’t deserve him.

Kota walked to him slowly, because he didn’t know how to deal with what was happening. Kei smiled to him though, he let the elder caress his face and then he pulled away.

“I’ve got to talk with Yuya.” he said.

The elder nodded, and signalled the shatei to leave the room with him.

Once the door had closed once again, Yuya stood up and lit up a cigarette. Kei leant toward him and took it, smoking it himself.

Yuya clicked his tongue and lit another one up, without commenting.

“Is there a specific reason why you’re here?” he asked, nervous. “Last time you said you had nothing to tell me, right?”

“Right. But that was before Yuri burst out crying in the middle of breakfast because he’s in love with a hypocrite son of a bitch.” Kei said, losing the tender smile he had put on for Kota, alongside his innocent tone.

Yuya was paying attention to him now. Not so much for having been insulted, more for what he had said of Yuri.

“Yuri doesn’t cry in public.” he said, hesitant.

“Listen Yuya, I don’t know what are your plans about Yuri, I don’t know what you want to do and I don’t know how it’s going to end, but Yuri deserves to be happy.”

“I know, damn it!” the yakuza uttered, turning to look at him. “I know, I don’t need you to come here and lecture me, Kei.”

Inoo took a step back, closing his eyes briefly. He knew he didn’t have to be afraid of him, that for better or worse Yuya wasn’t going to hurt him, but Kei hated screaming. He hated whenever men got too close, when they waved their hands in front of him.

He took a deep breath and looked at him again.

“It’s time to stop with the games, Yuya. Let him be free to live his life, let him free to live like a normal teen-ager. Free him from your presence. It’s unhealthy for him, can't you see that? He keeps repressing and repressing just to please you, because he’s decided to sacrifice his happiness to you.” he paused, shaking his head. “Didn’t you take enough from him already, Yuya? Haven’t you humiliated him enough? What else do you want? What other proof does he had to take you? He had asked for one single thing, and you couldn’t give it to him.” he told him.

Yuya was floored. Kei’s words, usually so childish and distracted, hurt more than a knife right now.

No, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand what Yuri was going through.

When Yuya had been a kid, he had never felt anything for his own jailers, and he had never thought something like that was even possible.

During his adolescence he had felt grudge and hatred toward those aniki who played him as they pleased, he had found some peace only when he had seen their corpses in his room, surrounded by their blood, oozing from their wounds, and right in that moment he had decided to hide the origins of his career, of his own life, hiding those scars and those burns with tattoos. Tattoos on tattoos, because it was the best thing to do, because he was ashamed and he wanted to forget.

But it was impossible to forget, and he knew that. He had been an idiot to think Yuri could be any different.

He had undergone horrible tortures, similar to what he had had to bear through, and Yuya couldn’t do anything to drive them away. He clicked his tongue, brushing his hands over his face, repressing the instinct to scream and throw everything on the floor, hitting someone or something, just because he didn’t know what to do.

He stared at Kei, still in front of him. He felt judged, and he didn’t like the feeling.

Kei had already said enough about him and his life, and seeing him like that once again bothered him.

But he was right; there was no denying that.

He had kept pushing and pushing Yuri, without realizing how he felt, how he was treating him.

Because Yuya didn’t understand him. He spent night after night trying to understand why Yuri was still with him, how he managed to let Yuya touch him. He though restlessly, wondering when the dream would’ve been over, when he would’ve seen Yuri’s back as he left their apartment.

And what made him feel even worse, was that all he was doing now was aimed to make him happy.

Perhaps it had been involuntary, in the beginning. Perhaps he really wanted a whore ready to use at every hour of the day and night. And he couldn’t deny how much violence he had used, just to see him bend.

Because Yuri reminded him of himself, little and arrogant, and all he had wanted was to take that look off his face, because it reminded him of when he had surrendered to the violence, without being able to fight back.

He had wanted to break him, because it was the only way he was going to convince himself he had been right to cave to his aniki.

Because, had Yuri surrendered, he would’ve felt better.

But with time, he had truly tried to make him feel happier. He had given him more responsibilities, he had tried to make him feel useful. He had let him free to go out whenever he wanted, he had bought him stuff he desired, even though Yuri had never dared asking.

Even when he had seen him with Hikaru, he had told himself it was how it was supposed to be.

But then Yuri had changed everything, and Yuya had felt happy for the first time in his life.

He had Yuri next to him, it was right, it felt good. He knew he still had to become better, to try and be a man worthy of that name for him.

He knew it, and he was trying. For him, born and raised in a vortex of violence and abuse, it was hard to change, and having Kei throwing reality in his face like that hurt.

He clicked his tongue again. Again and again, then he grabbed a chair and threw it against the wall.

Kei instinctively hid behind Kota’s desk, clenching his hands around the wood.

He bit his lip and backed off when Yuya walked toward him. He clenched his eyes when he saw the elder raised his hand, but a few moments later he opened them again. Yuya patted his shoulder.

“Thanks.” he murmured.

Kei nodded, slowly.

“Mh. I didn’t do it for you.” he muttered.

“I know. That’s why I'm thanking you.” he commented, then he left him alone in the room.

Kei heard the door close. He felt like crying. He didn’t know why, but talking to Yuya, no matter the subject, had made him feel good.

He hated that side of himself. He missed Yuya, he missed his presence at his apartment, he missed the evenings spent together and Kota complaining about them.

But he couldn’t afford to cave.

Kei had given him all his trust and Yuya had taken it, walked all over it, destroyed.

And Kei was tired of being disappointed.

~

Yuya walked inside the apartment, holding a heavy plastic bag. He took a deep breath, then he took his shoes off, listening to the familiar sound of the TV and the pots coming from the kitchen.

He stretched a smile, leaving the bad in the entrance.

“I'm home!” he yelled so that Yuri was going to hear, then he walked into the kitchen.

The younger turned to look at him and smiled, and just because of that smile Yuya suddenly felt good.

“Welcome back.” he told him.

The yakuza got close to him, hugging him from behind and kissing his cheek, and he felt relieved seeing that there was no concern on Yuri’s face.

He felt him abandon to his hold, pressing his back against him and turn to kiss his lips.

“I'm making miso soup. Then I've made some yakiniku and some fried vegetables. What do you think?” he asked, pointing at the plates.

“That I'm starving.” Yuya said. “And I would’ve definitely died already, if it wasn’t for you.”

Yuri chuckled, and Yuya turned him around. The younger looked at him, confused, while the yakuza caressed his face. Yuri kept still for a moment, then he softened.

“Yuya, is everything okay? Maybe you’re too hungry.” he mocked him.

The yakuza smiled and kissed him again, feeing Yuri’s arms around his neck as he pressed his body against him.

“I'm fine, don’t worry. I just... I missed you, that’s all.” he admitted, embarrassed, backing off.

Yuri smiled again and finished fixing the food on the table, then they both sat down.

They ate while watching a drama. Once they were done Yuri stood up, handing Yuya the ashtray and the lighter as he tidied up the table.

The elder grabbed his wrist though, and pulled him closer, kissing him again, harder than before, holding him tight. Yuri’s skin was hot, and his breathing was heavy already when he felt his fingers undo his shirt, leaving him half-naked.

Yuya picked him up and the younger wrapped his legs around him, kissing him again, unable to control himself now. Yuya wanted to touch him and be touch, and to brush his skin, taste it, kiss it.

He put Yuri down on the bed and Yuri took off his own clothes, fast, Yuya doing the same and then laying down on top of him.

He kissed him once again, those lips like a drug to him.

He touched him, harder this time; Yuri moaned as he felt the elder’s fingers brush his cock, teasing.

But Chinen had no intention to leave everything to the yakuza, so he wiggled out from underneath him, he got on top of him and pushed him down. He leant down to kiss his neck, as he felt Yuya’s urge in his breath, as he read it in his eyes.

He slipped down his chest, slowly; he wanted to take his time, wanted to drive him crazy and treasure those moans he was hearing, music to his ears.

His hand slipped down between his own legs, and he started stroking himself; Yuya could feel their cocks brush at every upstroke and he pushed his hips against him. All that Yuri did was shift a little, teasing him more, making him feel more and more aroused without giving him any form or relief.

Yuya sighed, frustrated, and pulled him closer to kiss him. He grabbed his head, holding tight on his hair and pulling him harder. Their cocks touched, and Yuya stopped kissing him.

Want was crushing him and he hoped that, whatever Yuri had in mind, he was going to rush to it.

Chinen went back kissing his neck, in no rush at all, as if he didn’t want to feel him inside as well.

But he kept moving slowly, hearing his own moans blend with Yuya’s, which grew higher as the younger inched toward his groin.

He kissed his thighs, almost accidentally brushing his cock’s tip with the side of his face. He kept stroking him like that, making him crave this more than anything.

More than once he saw Yuya’s hand grow close to him, threatening, ready to grab his hair and thrust inside his mouth forcefully, as he had always done, but every time he saw him lowering it.

Yuri let go, and finally wrapped his lips around the head, grinning at the animal-like sound the elder made.

He ran his tongue on the hot and tense skin, feeling Yuya’s fingers through his hair, light, without pushing him; so Yuri took him wholly in his mouth and started licking and sucking on him, because seeing Yuya lose control like that when they were in bed, made him feel good.

Because he felt sex wasn’t all he wanted, that he wasn’t there for a mere physiological need, that there was something more. And Yuri tried to convince himself it was like that now, always.

Because for Yuya sex was vital as the air he breathed, and by now he knew that. He shook his head, erasing those thoughts and going on moving his mouth on him, until the elder harshly pushed him away.

Yuri grinned, haughty, while he saw the other try and catch his breath.

Then he leant back against the mattress, shamelessly spreading his legs, a clear invitation for the elder to take him and do as he pleased with him, and Yuya didn’t need to be asked to do just that.

He attacked his lips, his chest, his cock, harsher than Yuri had been, but the younger was fine just like that.

He felt Yuya’s fingers prepare him, push inside of him, slowly followed by his tongue, proving him one more time that he could care about him. He pushed his hips against that mouth and those fingers, wanting more, and then Yuya pulled away, grabbing his legs and pushing against his rim, thrusting inside in one swift movement.

Yuri arched his back, holding back a pained sound and his tears, holding tight onto him, hiding his face in his chest, while his ears were full of Yuya’s pants, made hoarse by arousal.

He felt him start to thrust a few moments later, and it didn’t take Yuri long to adjust, to move against him, shamelessly, asking him to take him faster, harder.

Yuya brought a hand between their bodies, stroking him quickly; he wanted to feel Yuri come, he wanted to hear him moan of pleasure, and his wish got granted when, a few minutes later, Yuri spilled on his hand, digging his fingernails in his back, unable to hold back his moans.

Yuya let him go and kept thrusting inside of him, without giving him any rest, and a short while later he was climaxing inside of him, with a moan that sounded more like a scream.

He collapsed next to him, their heavy breathing the only thing left in the room. Yuri turned toward him, smiling, his eyes wet.

“I love you.” he said, his voice broken.

“Me too.” the elder replied confidently, pulling him closer. “Is everything alright, Yuri?” he asked then.

The younger nodded, hugging him back.

“It’s just sweat, don’t worry.”

Yuya knew he was lying, but he didn’t dare to reply. Who knew what thoughts were going through his boyfriend’s mind, and he realized he had to act fast if he didn’t want to risk losing him.

“I've got something for you.” he said. “I’ll go take it.”

He got up, ran to the entrance and got the bag. He took a carpet and rushed back to the bedroom.

He took a deep breath, feeling Yuri’s stare on him, which only made him more nervous.

“You know, I’ve thought about it. I wasn’t fair with you, I’ve kept imposing you my ideas. It’s just that... I know you’ve heard this a thousand times, but I need to get used to all of this. And you need to tell me, Yuri, because bowing your head and letting me get away with it won’t change anything. Believe me.”

The yakuza kept quiet for a few moments, then he handed the carpet to the kid.

“What’s this?” the younger asked.

“Documents for school. I enrolled you today. You’ve got the admission exams in two weeks.”

Yuri didn’t say a word, holding the papers tight in his hands. Then he lowered his head, and all of a sudden he was crying.

It was weird, because perhaps Yuri had never really dared to hope in such a change in Yuya. He had desired it, but he had never believed.

In the end, perhaps, he had settled: taken away the torture, the wounds, the burns, Yuri could be satisfied anyway. That afternoon, after his outburst with Kei, he had started to tell himself that there was really nothing more he could’ve asked for.

Yuya loved him, in his twisted way, and Yuri felt trapped inside that spider’s web that he himself had started to weave, that far summer afternoon, giving his violated and broken body he so much despised to Hikaru. That was the moment things had gotten complicated. Perhaps he had wished for Yuya to find them, even though he couldn’t say in what reaction he had been hoping.

Maybe he desired death, and in his selfish and egotistical desire he hadn't hesitated to bring Hikaru into this, innocent victim of that game of power, despair and tyranny.

Listening to Yuya’s words now, after having had sex with him like that, made him feel good.

He couldn’t stop crying, holding to his chest those papers, which looked so normal, but that represented his whole world to him, all his hopes, all the promises he could ask for.

Yuya sat next to him, hugging him and asking why he was crying, unable to mask the concern in his voice.

Yuri shook his head, trying to find a way to keep himself in check.

“I'm happy.” he panted, sobbing, barely raising his head from the elder’s chest. “I'm happy, Yuya. I'm glad that you’ve thought about me.”

“I'm sorry I'm so harsh at times. I just... I don’t see it.”

Yuri shook his head and kissed him, and Yuya found his lips even softer and warmer than before, wet by his tears.

The younger rummaged through the books Yuya had bought him. There were actually more than those written on the list the school had given him.

“I’ve taken a few.” the yakuza shrugged. “I thought the books you have already weren’t going to be enough for the test, so I went with Kota and... well, I must’ve exaggerated.” Yuri laughed and  hugged him, hiding once again between his arms. “It’s hard for me to make you happy, Yu. If I had been you... I wouldn’t have had the strength.”

Yuri shook his head.

“I love you.” was all he said.

“I know, that’s what I'm talking about. I...” he took a deep breath, nervousness eating at him again. “Nothing. All that matters it’s for us to be able to talk to each other.”

Yuri pulled away, sitting next to him.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” the yakuza replied, fidgeting.

“Yuya, what is it? You literally just said we should talk to each other.”

Yuya kept quiet, hesitant. He didn’t know whether he wanted to inform Yuri circa his past, bare himself that way, allowing the younger to know every secret which during the years had fed the beast, which had made him the monster he had met three years before.

But Yuri kept looking at him with those deep eyes, and Yuya understood that if he wanted to make this work, he needed to tell him everything, to get rid of those demons which kept haunting him after all those years.

“I've been through this, Yuri.” he admitted. “I was about your age when I joined the family and, you know...” he chuckled, nervous. “My aniki, four of them, they kept me in this room. I couldn’t go out, there were no windows. I barely ate, I barely drunk. When they came back, I had to do everything they asked, and I mean everything. If they weren’t please, if I fought back...” he closed his eyes, nervously brushing a hand over his shoulder, tattooed heavier than the rest of the body. “Well, let’s say it wasn’t pleasant.” he finished, his voice husky.

“Then why have you done this to me, Yuya? You knew what I was going through.” Yuri murmured, his voice broken.

Yuya chuckled.

“I don’t know. It’s always been normal for me, you know? Even before I became a yakuza. I’ve run from an alcoholic father who raped me. My mother, before leaving us, sat in a corner crying, ignoring my sobs. I was tired of being poor, tired of my father, tired of living.” he shrugged. “In the end I surrendered, Yuri. For years I’ve done whatever my father wanted and for years I went along what my aniki asked. I was angry when I saw you, because you’ve reminded me of myself. And I wanted to bend you, to break you, because I would’ve felt less guilty, less filthy. I... I wanted to get rid of my demons, abandon them on you, even though I didn’t know you.” he shrugged again.

Yuri stared at him, his eyes misty again. He slowly reached out his hand, brushing the tattooed skin of his shoulder. Yuri had always noticed that, from the wrist to the shoulder, almost up to the neck, the drawings were thicker, the colours more vivid, the lines harder.

“Why are these thicker?” he asked, low, tears ready to fall and his voice hoarse, almost desperate, as if he didn’t really want an answer.

“Because I've got their marks on me. Every night, after they were done with me, the cut a line on my arm. One after the other, day after day. When I killed them my arms were almost completely covered in them. And I couldn’t stand it, I wanted to tear my skin off, because seeing them made me sick. That’s why I'm covered in tattoos. With these I’ve lost the last trace of humanity I had left and in the end they won. I’ve become a monster, just like they wanted.”

Yuri remembered that the only time Yuya had told him about those tattoos he had told him the legend of the nishikigoi, a few months before, the day of his disastrous birthday. The first time he and Yuya had talked for real.

He let his fingertips slip down his skin, staring at every line, every colour, every drawing.

“Did you feel better after killing them?” he asked then, staring at the scars on his own arms.

Yuya shrugged, indifferent.

“Yes, I felt good. I felt good because they were dead and I was free. That’s why I wonder how you can be next to me, how can you not hate me as I hated them.”

“Don’t compare yourself to them, Yuya.” the younger whispered, brushing his face and kissing him softly. “You’ve never treated me that way. You’ve given me a home, clothes, food, I’ve never lacked anything. It’s true, at first it’s been hard, but...” he paused, looking for the right words. “But we’re together now, aren't we? There’s no reason to think about what’s happened.” he said, his voice higher than usual.

Yuya caressed his face, tenderly, showing him a sad smile.

“No, Yuri. I'm no better than them, trust me. They wanted me like this, and I couldn’t fight them. That was life for me. I wanted to feel better by ruining your life like them and my father had ruined mine. I wanted to stop suffering, and I thought it was the right way. I'm sorry.”

The younger shook his head.

All in all, they weren’t so different. In order to feel better, to stop feeling pain, both him and Yuya had been selfish.

To get rid of a suffering which had been crushing them day after day, they hadn't hesitating sacrificing innocent people. Yuya had bought him, pouring on him the weight of years and years or rapes, scars, wounds and burns that were never going to leave him anyway.

Yuri had killed Hikaru, after having involuntarily seduced him, after having almost accepted the hand the other was offering him, which would’ve freed him. Instead he had refused it, and he had lashed out on him the moment he had stabbed Yuya, he had been brutal, he had taken his breath away from his, blow after blow.

He hugged Yuya, kissing him again. He let the yakuza hug him, kiss him, touch him, and all he wanted was for him to take him again and again, and to take his breath away.

He groaned when he felt him push inside of him, slowly, as if somehow like this everything could be fixed or forgotten.

Yuri arched his back and moved against Yuya, until he felt him come inside of him once again.

The yakuza stayed on top of him, his arms tensed, trembling for the effort, but he didn’t move.

They looked at each other and smiled, and Yuri raised his head to kiss him.

“I love you.” he whispered.

“I love you too.” the elder replied, and only then he collapsed next to him.

Then he hid his face in the crook of Yuri neck, and cried.

He sobbed like a child, and all the younger did was hug him, murmuring that everything was going to be alright. But they both knew it was a lie, that nothing was going to erase the pain they bore inside, engraved on their souls.

The night was still long and Yuya, who hadn't cried since the night he had run from home, got rid at least of a part of the pain he had had inside for over seventeen years.

Chapter 05

Yabu watched Kei wandering around the apartment. He snorted, slightly irritated.

He looked at the book he was reading, as Kei walked back and forth from the bedroom to the living room, then heading to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and looked inside, then he came back and threw himself on the couch.

Kota closed his eyes, trying to keep himself in check. He hated whenever Kei wallowed aimlessly like that, without any apparent reason to live. He usually ended up watching television or something. Or he stayed in bed and rested, or he did his chores.

He liked that; he always said chores distracted him, that they allowed him to feel useful, less of a dead wright. Usually, before their fight, Kei went to help Yuya at his place too, since the yakuza was completely hopeless in that field. He couldn’t vacuum, he couldn’t cook. Doing the laundry and ironing were unknown subjects, even though Kota had always thought that he was just lazy and that he wanted to give Kei something to do. He had never said anything, because Kei had always found it a pleasant way to kill time and to repay Yuya for all the help he had given them, always trying to lift some of the weight off of Kota’s wallet.

Kota had never been rich. Joining the yakuza had helped, for sure, but at first his money disappeared into hospitals and extremely expensive drugs which Kei took to keep in check anxiety, depression, nightmares, fear.

There been a time, when he didn’t Yuya so well, where he barely managed to eat, cause he’d rather let Kei have food and medicines.

He had lost a lot of weight, and he still wore the marks of those times. Then Yuya had casually started to raise his income. At times he tried to make it pass as overtime, sometimes he used to say he had made a mistake and had deposited the money on Kota’s account instead of his own.

The younger had tried to give the money back, but Yuya didn’t want to hear it. He was interested in Kei’s condition, he spent time with him whenever he could, when Kota was away from home for days, and Yuya offered to keep Inoo company.

They spent hours together, and Kota wondered what in the world they talked about, different as they were. And they truly were. Way to dress, to eat, to live. To face the world.

And seeing that Kei managed to open up, to slowly become again the one he had once been, had always pleased Kota, and had made him realize he couldn’t do everything on his own.

During those years instead, since Kei and Yuya had fought, all the results obtained had disappeared. Kei had closed himself up again, he wore once again that mask he used to protect himself from the world.

He had become quieter and he had started getting out less often, and Kota was tired and he felt useless, as if all the improvements Kei had achieved were merely because of Yuya.

He knew that his jealousy was completely pointless – Kei had never showed to care more for Yuya anyway – but he still felt a step behind his aniki.

And the mere idea of talking about it with either of them, just to be made fun of, wasn’t an option.

He heard Kei shuffle around again toward the fridge and now, out of complete exasperation, Kota slammed the book close and stood up.

Kei raised his head, confused.

“Ko?” he called him with his innocent tone.

The elder sighed.

“Kei, why don’t we do something?” he asked, getting close to him and smiling. “We can go down to the bay and have some ice cream, how about that?”

Kei pouted, then he shook his head.

“I don’t feel like driving till there.”

Yabu sighed again, more heavily than before.

“Then we can stay in the neighbourhood. We could sit at a coffee place and take some fresh air, uh?”

In response, Kei threw himself on the couch.

“No. I don’t want to go out.”

“Want to watch a drama?”

“There’s nothing I want to watch.”

“Then I can help you tidy the pantry or the closet, don’t you always say I'm a mess?”

“Mh. Yeah, I'm not dying to do chores right now.”

“Is there something you feel like doing?” Kota spoke louder now, nervous.

Kei rolled his eyes and turned his back on him.

“No. Just let me be.”

“It’s because of Yuya, isn't it?” the elder went on, his voice as loud as before.

Kei didn’t even turn to look at him.

“You’re an idiot if you think that.” he muttered.

“I may very well be an idiot, but that’s all I take from your attitude. We haven’t done something together in a while, Kei. I kill myself at work day after day for you and you don’t even have the decency of doing something with me.” he burst, feeling the anger overwhelm him.

He was tired of feeling put aside, with all the sacrifices he had made and was still making, just because Kei was sad and depressed for the whole situation with Yuya.

Kota deserved some understanding and consideration. For once, just once, he wished he could’ve felt he came first in the list of Kei’s priorities.

“What are you talking about, Kota? Yuya’s got nothing to do with this. He’s just an idiot, like you.”

“I'm tired, Kei. Every night is always the same story. We stay home because you don’t want to go out, you always ignore what I want to do. I’ve been with you for years, I've helped you in the worst moments of your life. Damn it, I've become a yakuza for you!” he yelled, frustrated.

Kei stood up, his face a mask of both anger and disappointment.

“What does it mean?” he hissed. “I never asked anything, Kota, I didn’t ask that you give up on your life, your college, your family. Don’t dump on me the weight of your stupid decisions.”

Kota kept quiet for a moment, then he acted out of instinct; he raised his hand and for the first time in his life, he slapped him.

Kei fell back on the couch, his face pale and a hand on the spot Kota had hit.

He lowered his head, his eyes watery as he started shivering.

“You’re such an ingrate, Kei. I'm glad to realize you never gave a damn about my love for you.” Kota whispered, trying to feel guilty for what he had just done, but without managing to do just that. “I’ve given everything to you, my whole life. I did it because I wanted to make you happy, and not once I’ve regretted what I’ve done. But if all you can think about is Yuya and your stupid fight, then I don’t see why I should stay here anymore.”

Kei didn’t say a word. It was the first time they fought like this, Kota had never raised a hand on him, and all that speech was making his head spin.

“Say something!” Kota yelled, his fists clenched.

The younger kept quiet still, without looking at him. He couldn’t put an order to his thoughts, he just couldn’t understand.

Kota shook his head, then he grabbed a bottle of meds and threw it on the couch.

“Here. This is probably the only reason why you’re with me anyway.” he murmured, then he turned his back and stormed out.

~

Yuya went to open the door, and he couldn’t speak for a few seconds. Kei stood in front of him, his head low; he was crying incessantly.

“What’s happened?” he asked, anxious. He looked around, looking for Kota, and started fearing the worst. “Come on in.” he murmured, moving from the doorstep. “Yuri, make some tea.” he yelled then.

“Don’t raise your voice!” Kei shrieked, pushing him away and getting on the floor, bringing his hands to his ears, starting to murmur something unintelligible and swinging back and forth.

Yuri rushed to the entrance, but Yuya pushed him away, his eyes still on Kei, who was crouched on the floor, sobbing.

“Go to the kitchen.” Yuya whispered to his boyfriend. “And don’t worry.”

“But Kei...”

“Kei’s having a crisis. Don’t worry, I know what to do.”

Yuri’s mind was a mix of different memories and feelings. The jealousy of when he had seen them walk together out of the conbini, Yuya worrying too much about Kei’s mood swings, the bloodstains on his shirt.

But he obeyed anyway and walked to the kitchen, waiting. Yuya, on his part, sat on the floor in front of Kei, softly resting his hands on his shoulders, but the younger wiggled out of his hold again and backed off, crying harder than before, screaming that Yuya wanted to hurt him; he started kicking, trying to keep him away.

The yakuza got closer, slower, he grabbed his hands and whispered that everything was going to be alright.

“Kei, it’s Yuya. Calm down, no one’s going to hurt you here.” he murmured, a voice so tender that made Yuri feel sick.

Inoo kept sobbing, chanting Kota’s name.

“Kei, count with me, alright?” the yakuza asked. “Count to ten with me. One...” he began. “Two... three...” he went on, his voice soothing.

Kei breathed in deeply and opened his eyes.

“Four...” he whispered. “Five...”

“Good, Kei-chan. See that no one wants to hurt you?” Yuya smiled. “Six...”

Kei nodded, tightening his hands around Yuya’s.

“Seven... eight... nine... ten.” he finished, as he slowly stopped crying.

They kept quiet for a while, studying each other, then the younger sat next to him.

“What’s happened?”

Kei started swinging again, biting his lower lip and twisting his hands, hurting himself with his fingernails. Yuya took his hand, holding it tight.

“Kota... we fought.” he murmured, his voice broken. “He slapped me and he told me that all his sacrifices have been useless, because he thinks I don’t love him.”

And he stated crying again. Yuya opened his eyes wide, bewildered.

“Slapped you?” he repeated. “Wh... why?”

“Because I told him that no one’s forced him to be with me all these years, and he’s lost it. He said that the only reason why I'm still with him are my meds and he’s left.” he explained, bringing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face behind them.

The yakuza kept quiet and brought an arm around him, holding him close, trying to soothe him.

He closed his eyes.

He hadn't had a serious crisis in years, for sure it had never happened because of Kota, who would’ve rather being maimed than hurt him. He sighed, wondering what had happened to make him lose it like that.

He brought Kei on the couch, still hugging him. From the kitchen, Yuri stared at them, wondering why he kept feeling like the third wheel. He wanted to leave, pointing out to Yuya that he really couldn’t be so sweet and nice to Kei, after having spent three years insulting or ignoring him.

But he kept quiet, his fists clenched. He averted his eyes when the yakuza walked toward him.

“I’ll go look for Kota.” he told him, putting some meds down on the table. “Give him this one as soon as he recovers, then make him eat something and give him this one. Okay?” he asked.

Yuri nodded.

He thought back to his life, to all he had gone through. Annoyed, he stood up, ignoring Yuya’s confused stare. It didn’t last long though, and he went to the entrance, putting his shoes on and leaving him alone with Kei.

~

He didn’t have to look for long. He walked throughout Kabuki-cho for half an hour, then he reached the park, deserted at this time of night, and found Kota sitting on a bench, his head bowed and resting on his hands.

He sat next to him, hesitating. He knew Kota very well, but he didn’t know what state he was in now.

The man next to him raised his eyes on him and sighed deeply, ignoring him.

“You know why I'm here, right?” Yuya asked, lighting up a cigarette.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Yuya. Leave me alone.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you want. I just left Kei in full-on panic attack at my place, and you caused it. I want to know why the fuck you slapped him.”

“Since when do you care? I wasn’t under the impression you were the better man between us.” Kota snarled, turning to look at him.

Yuya grabbed his collar and pulled him closer, annoyed by that attitude so atypical of Kota.

“What do you want to do, Yuya? Hit me? Go ahead, what does it change? All that matters is for Kei to be happy. And for him to be fine only when he’s at peace with you, not me.” the younger burst, struggling to get rid of the yakuza’s hold and standing up. He breathed out, brushing his hands over his face. “I'm tired of working my ass off when he’s not even happy with me.” he said, looking elsewhere.

Yuya kept quiet, finishing his cigarette. He crushed the stub on the ground, watching it.

“Do you mind telling me what’s gotten into you, Kota? This isn’t you. Come on, you’ve hit Kei; under normal circumstances, you would’ve killed anyone trying to do the same!”

“Then what’s me exactly?” Kota hissed, irritated.

“Kei loves you. Where did you get this insane theory that he doesn’t want to be with you?” the yakuza asked, bewildered. “Come on, Kota, you’re even more of a moron than I thought!” he uttered, then he got up and turned his back, making as to leave.

“Because it is what it is, Yuya! I’ve tried to ignore it at first because I was glad that Kei could make friends, despite everything. But since the two of you have fought it’s like everything’s gotten back like it was before. It’s hard, Yuya. It’s hard, when he thinks about someone else.”

Yuya turned around, clicking his tongue. He shook his head.

“You must be out of your damn mind.”

“Do you think you’re better than me, Takaki?” Kota hissed. “Do you really believe that what you’ve done for us during these past years makes you better than me? I'm tired of being put aside. I’ve given my life to Kei because I love him, I did everything I could to make him trust me again. And see the way he’s opened with you without showing any fear, while I had to fight for it...” he brushed a few tears off his face, nervous, irritated because he really didn’t want to talk to Yuya about it. “It’s not so rosy, Yuya.”

Takaki turned to look at him again. Yes, perhaps he could understand. Understand his pain, his anger, that incomprehensible jealousy which had led him to slap Kei. He shook his head, while guilt crushed him from the inside.

He almost couldn’t forgive Kota for having slapped his boyfriend when he, ignoring any moral or humanity, had spent years torturing Yuri and ended up hiding behind the barrier of eternal love.

Kei was right, after all. The scars on who was now his boyfriend weren’t going to disappear with love words.

But there was nothing Yuya could do but feel regret. There was nothing he could do but look at Kota, pity him.

“You’re a moron.” he murmured, looking at him as he fell on the ground and started crying.

He got close, resting a hand on his shoulder and lighting up another cigarette.

He had never seen Kota cry. He had met him with a smile on his face, a strength he had never witnessed in anyone else. He had had his moments at times, but it was rare. He could be gloomier, more thoughtful, but every time he got back home he always tried to be positive.

Imagine a Kota who had harboured that kind of thoughts for so long, made him nervous.

Yuya had always seen Kei as someone to protect from all that evil that he committed in the first place, raping, pushing drugs, selling human beings, killing.

Imagining him in a sentimental – or worse – sexual way, made him sick.

“He’s never going to forgive me, is he?” Yuya heard Kota sob, his voice broken.

He kept quiet and shrugged, not knowing what to say. Kota chuckled.

“How could he?” he whispered. “I wasn’t fair to him. He should hate me.”

“Kota...” Yuya snorted. “It doesn’t make any sense, and you know that.” he grabbed his arm, trying to get him up.

He was about to desist, when he heard steps behind them and turned. He saw Kei standing there, a few metres from them, Yuri running behind him.

“Ko!” Inoo yelled, running toward his boyfriend.

He walked past Yuya, almost without seeing him, and fell on his knees in front of Kota, hugging him and hiding his face against his neck as he started crying again.

“Don’t leave me.” he sobbed.

Yabu hugged him back, holding him closer, kissing his head and apologizing over and over again.

“I don’t want to be without you, Ko. I don’t want to, please.” the younger went on, unable to stop.

“I don’t want to leave you, Kei. I'm sorry, I was an idiot, I...” he stopped, kissing his forehead. “I'm sorry.” he whispered.

“I don’t care. I just want you to be happy Ko, I swear.” Kei raised his head to look at him. “I love you. I don’t care about the meds, I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too. I was angry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“So you’re not leaving me?”

“No. Of course I'm not.” Kota murmured, trying to smile, the younger smiling back and throwing himself at him, kissing him.

He closed his eyes, imagining of being somewhere else, back to when they were in school, when they led a happy life.

And he felt better, because he was happy. For real. Happy of getting out, of waking up every morning and seeing Kota next to him, spoiling him rotten.

And for a few moments he felt like he hadn't in years, willing to change, because without Kota nothing made sense to him.

He pulled away and stared at his boyfriend.

“I love you.” Kei heard him whisper, and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

“I love you too, Ko-chan.” he replied as he hugged him again.

Kota was so glad to have Kei in his arms again and Kei was so glad to realize the elder wasn’t going to leave him, that neither of them had noticed that Yuya and Yuri were long gone.

Chapter 06

Yamada saw him walk in and he knew that getting to the end of the day was going to be harder than usual.

The yakuza was visibly angry, his glasses on the nose, the jacket behind his shoulder, the first buttons of his shirt undone.

He had walked inside the room without taking his shows off; the kid had tried backing off, unsuccessfully.

Yuya’s hand had grabbed his wrist, pulling him close, then the slapping started.

Yamada slipped against the wall, his nose bleeding and his lip broken, already knowing he lacked the strength necessary to survive the afternoon. His sight was foggy and the blood streamed down his face.

The elder grabbed his hair and dragged him through the room, then he threw him on the bed. Yamada knelt up, his head spinning, trying to crawl unsuccessfully.

Yuya mounted on the bed, on top of him, and tore his shirt with a knife, then he stated cutting him, ignoring his pain and his tears.

Yuya was tired of being like this and being unable to repress it.

Yamada, as opposed to Yuri, was going to bend.

Even if he had to cut all of his skin, even if he had to bleed him dry, even if...

He brought a hand to his own belt, undoing it quickly and grabbing Yamada’s hair again, pulling him close and holding him tight, since the younger kept struggling.

Then he stopped, looking around. He pushed Yamada back on the mattress and got dressed again. He tied his wrists on the headrest, without getting concerned whether the ties were too tight; pain should’ve already become a daily habit for him.

He held tight onto the knife, feeling his fingertips slip on the handle, then he brought the blade close to Yamada’s already hurt body. He fed on his eyes, full of fear and hate, then he pressed it on his skin, seeing it break.

The blood drops streamed on his chest, his hips, his ribcage, staining him and marking him as his property; even though Yuya didn’t want any property at all.

He had Yuri, back home. The only thing he really needed. He didn’t care much about Yamada, he was an object, temporary, nothing else. There was going to be someone else after him, and then someone after that.

Because he didn’t want to see Yuri’s pain or tears again. What scratched in his chest was a beast, but Yuri wasn’t going to see it anymore. He wasn’t going to see the animal again.

But in the meantime Yamada was crying, he hurt trying to hold back the sobs, and Yuya was deaf to his begging.

He got off the bed only when his fingers were stained with blood and when Ryosuke, exhausted by those hellish hours, had stopped rebelling.

~

Yuri grabbed his books and put them back inside the bag, ready to go home. He had some stuff to do before Yuya’s return, and he didn’t want to give him any excuse to complain about his little efficiency since he had started attending school.

But the younger didn’t mind. Yuya was mildly jealous of the time he spent without it, he just needed to get used to it and be patient.

He walked out the building, heading toward Kabuki-cho and stopping at a supermarket.

He shopped quickly, and he was just about done when he felt his cell vibrating in his pocket. It was a text from Yuya, informing him he wasn’t going to be home for lunch, that he was going to see him that evening.

Yuri put his cell back and sighed. There were many afternoons Yuya didn’t spend home by now, and when he got back his clothes were more often stained in blood.

He became aggressive whenever Yuri asked about work, and the younger had learnt quickly to keep quiet. He was better left in doubt than with a seriously angry Yuya.

He was headed home, trying to balance the bags, when he heard his name. He stopped on the sidewalk, turning around and seeing a boy about his age running toward him.

Despite the hear, he wore a long-sleeved shirt, a pair of jeans and he had a hat low on his face. He reached him, stopping him front of him and panting, trying to recover his breath.

“Do I know you?” Yuri asked, confused.

“I don’t think so. I wanted to talk to you, do you have a minute?”

Yuri took a step back, suspicious.

“No. Who are you?” he asked.

The boy shook his head, grinning and staring at him.

“I'm Yamada Ryosuke. I'm a prostitute for the yakuza, you should know something about it. I’ve heard about you around.”

Yuri kept looking at him, his muscles tense and ready to run.

“I'm late. Yuya is going to be home in a few minutes.” he lied, holding the bags tight.

“I guess you don’t want to make him mad, do you? Yuya’s not nice when he’s hungry.” he chuckled. “I should know that.”

“What does that mean?”

The other boy didn’t reply, but he rolled his sleeves up, allowing Yuri to see the whitish scars on the dark skin.

Chinen stopped breathing.

He knew those scars. He knew their depth, he blade that had made them. And he knew who had wielded that blade.

Finally the pieces matched, coherent. Yuya’s nervousness, his lack of will to have sex, the blood on his clothes, the absence from work, everything.

He bit his lip, confused by the revelation. He didn’t even notice Yamada getting closer, he didn’t notice his hatred, oozing from him.

All of a sudden everything went dark and his body touched the ground. Then, nothing else.

~

He woke up on a bed. The room was coloured, and Yuri recognized it immediately.

He sat up, seeing Kei’s clothes on a chair and Kota’s suits hanging in the closet. He felt his head spinning, and he couldn’t put an order to his thoughts that he felt a violent nausea. He stood up and headed to the bathroom.

He threw up and fell on the floor. He closed his eyes and cried.

The door opened, and Kota knelt next to him.

“How are you feeling?”

Yuri raised his eyes, looking at him. The words died on his tongue, and he just shook his head.

He had woken up in what looked like a warehouse. It looked a lot like the one where the yakuza kept the kids waiting for their fate, whatever that was.

The smell of death and blood and the feeble whines were still burned on his mind. He looked around. Yamada was in front of him.

He tried to move, but his hands were tied to a metal support behind him; his legs hurt.

But Yuri had never been one to give up easily. He kept moving them, trying to free himself from the ropes holding him, obtaining only wounds on his wrists and a laughter from Yamada.

The boy got close to him, his eyes full of hatred and rage, and Yuri might’ve understood him, hadn't he been in this situation.

“What do you want from me?” he snarled.

“Yuya had taken away from me what little dignity I had left. And now I'm going to take away from him the only thing he cares about.”

Yuri shivered. He was sure that nothing could compare to the sadism Yuya had shown him during the years, but he was scared nonetheless.

He hated being scared, he hated showing it, but when he saw Yamada grab a knife all he could do was hold his breath, too worried to do or say something else.

He got back to bed, Kota holding him. He felt pain all over, his eyes hurt and speaking was a torture.

He had no idea how he had ended up there, but he was grateful he was here instead of Yuya’s place.

He didn’t know what to say or how to act.

He just wanted to sleep and forget. He leant his head against the pillow, slowly, to avoid the bandages slipping off, and he fall asleep again.

Yamada thrust inside of him. He groaned, and Yuri wanted to kill him. He wanted to get up, grab his hair and bang his head against the floor over and over again.

He hated him and he hated himself. The wounds on his hips, deeper than the ones Yuya used to give him, kept bleeding, but the only thing Yuri could focus on was Yamada’s cock raping him.

He had screamed when he had pushed inside him the first time, and his own fingernails dug in his palms had made him bleed.

And that had been the first of a long afternoon, turning fast into days off hell and torture.

After having come inside of him Yamada had had his fun torturing him again, then he fucked him again, pulling out in time to come all over his face.

He felt the smell and taste of his come and his own blood. He felt him take pleasure from the torture as he raped him, as he grabbed the knife and used it on every spot of his skin, watching the blood spreading.

Yuri had cried too, but Yamada had ignored him. He had grabbed his hair and had started hitting him, then he had forced his mouth open and had thrust between his lips, coming in a few minutes on his tongue.

Yuri had no idea how long it had been. He just knew he was tired and that he wanted to wake up, next time, in a better place.

Yuri woke up that he was still at Kota’s and Kei’s. He sat up, staring at the wall in front of him, covering himself.

During his stay he didn’t say a word, nothing about Yamada.

Kota walked inside the room from time to time, he sat next to him and tried to talk to him, unsuccessfully. Kei brought him food, but Yuri felt sick just looking at it, and he left everything there as it was.

It was the dead of the night now. The clock on the nightstand said it was two a.m., and Yuri hugged his knees, wondering where Yuya was, why he still hadn't come and got him.

He stared at the closed door. He bit his tongue and closed his eyes again.

He didn’t remember exactly what had happened. He just knew that Yamada had stopped raping him and had gotten up. The relief he felt was feeble, because he was just waiting for a blade to hurt him again.

He heard screaming around him, but his head was laying on the filthy floor, and he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.

He heard steps growing closer and hands touch him, but he pulled away, screaming and opening his eyes wide, but all his mind could register was Yamada grinning and laughing and hurting him.

He kicked with all his might. He sobbed and yelled to leave him be because he couldn’t take it anymore. He screamed off the top of his lungs, scratching his assailant, unable to look at him again.

He was tired, and all he wanted was to be somewhere else, warm, safe and next to Yuya.

He woke up all of a sudden. He was screaming, despite his throat hurting, he couldn’t stop, the nightmares haunting him like nothing of his past with Yuya had ever done.

Maybe he got Kei a little better now. Maybe Kota was right saying that his mental health had been saved by the fact that he lived with Yuya.

Because when it happens only once the memory is a torture, day after day. It haunted him, it followed him, a worm digging its way throughout his brain, moving, creeping in, scary as hell.

The memories were all there, with the feeling of those hands on him at all times, that breath against his skin, that wish to scream, to be saved.

He felt trapped, he couldn’t recognize the people around him, because they all seemed to look at him with pity and compassion. And Yuri understood Kei.

Kota had always been right. The constancy of the violence had saved him. Yuri had survived because Yuya wasn’t going to allow him to end up like Kei. He had survived because he had no other choice, because the routine had saved him from the madness of a single rape. Because in the end, despite the violence, despite the lack of dignity, the same hands and the same body had been hurting him day after day.

Having been at Yamada’s mercy made him feel filthy, for the first time.

He had gotten used, lately, to Yuya’s tenderness, he had gotten used to love, and had ended up being thrown on a floor again, tied like an animal.

And Yamada had reached his goal in the end. He had gotten his revenge for what Yuya had done to him to avoid hurting Yuri.

He had destroyed Yuri, he had destroyed Yuya’s happiness.

Yamada had finally managed to make him feel like a whore and nothing more.

He finally calmed down and held tight to Kota, who could do nothing else but hold him back and try to soothe him.

~

When he opened his eyes it was still dark, and he could see the sun rising from the window.

He stayed in his corner until he heard knocking on the door. He didn’t move and kept staring out the window. He didn’t want food, he didn’t want to see anybody.

He didn’t want to see Yabu and Kei and their compassion. He didn’t need to be pitied anymore.

“Yuri...”

The voice he heard startled him. He saw Yuya on the doorstep, for the first time hesitant. Yuri felt good all of a sudden and jumped up, running to him. He hugged him, held him, hiding his hurt face against his chest, waiting for him to reciprocate; it took a while.

But Yuri didn’t care. Yuya was finally there, and there was nothing else he could ask for. He slowly raised his head and smiled to him, but Yuya didn’t smile back. He pushed him on the bed, making him sit down.

“How are you feeling?”

Yuri shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about him, with him less than with others. He didn’t want him to think about it or to do anything rush. He wanted to fall asleep with him, because he needed him, because Yuya was the only one who could grab him and pull him out of the abyss where Yamada had thrown him.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here, finally.” he whispered, his voice hoarse and his eyes watery.

Yuya fidgeted; he didn’t look at him as he slowly caressed his head. Yuri pulled away for a moment when he saw the yakuza’s hand getting close, but then he bit his lip and nestled against him again, his fists tight around his shirt.

“I'm sorry.” the younger murmured.

“It’s my fault, Yuri. I should’ve fought harder to repress that side of me.”

“No, Yuya. You... you tried not to let it surface with me. You could’ve, but you’ve chosen not to. I'm tired of being the good one, I'm actually glad you lashed it out on Yamada instead of me.”

The elder bit his lip, unsure as to what he should’ve said. He had never been particularly proud of what he used to do to Yuri nor of what he did to Ryosuke, and having involved his boyfriend in Yamada’s revenge made him feel horribly guilty.

Yamada should’ve tried and kill him, but he had chosen to be subtle instead and had destroyed the only thing which really mattered to him.

And when he had seen Yuri laying on the floor, sobbing and scared, his blood had run cold. He had walked to him while Kota dragged Yamada away, but all Yuri had done was kick and scream and scratch him, and Yuya had felt useless in front of the desperate rage enlivening Yuri’s torn body and soul.

He hated himself. He had promised Yuri he was going to make him happy, that he wasn’t going to have to ask for anything, that he was going to start respecting him; instead he had ended up in a warehouse, tortured and raped for days.

Yuya held him tight, letting his hands slip on the delicate and injured skin, kissing his lips as if it was the last time he was going to do it.

“I love you.” Yuri whispered as he kissed him back. “I love you, Yuya.” he repeated, crying and trying to hold back his sobs.

Yuya stared at him, trying to soothe him; he brought his mouth close to the younger’s ear, still hugging him.

“I love you too.” he murmured, closing his eyes and feeling Yuri’s hands clench on his clothes, as he finally lost any restrain and cried his heart out.

~

“Kota, where’s Yuya? I want to go home.”

Yuri stared at the yakuza’s face, but he saw by the corner of his eye Kei averting his gaze and bit his lip. Yuri looked at them both, uncomfortable, and nervously scratched his arm, carefully avoiding the wounds.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance to the two of you.” he went on. “Yesterday Yuya was here, and...” he paused, feeling troubles breathing.

“Yuya’s not here, Yuri. He’s away for work. It’s going to take a few days, you can be here as long as you want. The guest room’s yours.” Kei murmured, shifting his wait uncomfortably.

Yuri shook his head vigorously.

“No, thanks. I want to go home. Tell me where Yuya is, I’ll join him. I don’t care how far he is, I want to be with him.”

The eldest of them stood up and walked toward him, but Yuri backed off, shaking his head.

“Kota, where’s Yuya?”

“He’s away for work.” he swallowed. “He’s not coming back.”

“What... what does it mean?” Yuri whispered, unable to tear his eyes from him.

“He moved.” he replied. “To Sendai. He asked me to take care of you.”

“He... he left without me?”

Kota didn’t answer. But Yuri didn’t really need him to.

Since that day, Yuri hadn't spoken much. Kota didn’t know what to do or what to say to make him feel better.

The first days he heard him sob in the dead of the night, or he woke up because of some nightmare and he screamed.

To Kota, it felt as if he had gotten back to when Kei had been raped.

He watched Yuri crying in bed and he felt useless. Kei tried to approach the younger the least possible, intimidated by that new attitude of his.

Kota had tried calling Yuya countless times, but the phone kept ringing without any answer. From time to time he saw Yuri on the couch, listening to Yuya’s registered voice mail. At first he used to leave messages, then he had stopped.

When he wasn’t in school, he roamed throughout the neighbourhood. He walked and walked, for hours, then he got back home. He cooked, he didn’t eat and he went to bed.

The hours he spent in school were useless. Kota got calls from his teachers asking what had happened for him to change this much, and he could never give them an answer.

It’s because of his guardian he explained He’s had to move for work and Yuri couldn’t go with him.

It was close to the truth. Yuya had moved and Yuri had stopped living.

It had been three months. Kota was tired, even though Yuri showed slight signs of improvement. The nightmares, or at least the screaming, had disappeared, and he heard him cry less often. But he was still incredibly quiet and lacked any vitality.

Kota was home that day. He was helping Kei spreading out the laundry. He took a quick glance to the clock, anxious. Yuri wasn’t used to have a clear schedule, not with Yuya nor since he had moved in with them, but he had always been caring enough to inform them when he stayed in school or when he didn’t come back home.

He checked his phone again; maybe he hadn't heard the call or the e-mail. But there was nothing.

Kei looked at him, sighing.

“Are you worried?” he asked.

“A little. He should’ve gotten out of school ages ago. It’s not like him not calling.”

“We’ve got to give him time to... elaborate this. He needs time.”

“I'm worried, Kei.” Yabu murmured, shaking his head, as he kept laying out the sheets. “I don’t know what to do to make him feel better.”

“Maybe we should talk with Yuya.” Kei said, wincing, as if he wasn’t really the one making this suggestion. “You know, all the bullshit about ‘I'm leaving because he’s safer with you’, it doesn’t make much sense.”

“I can't track him down. No one in Sendai’s been very helpful, and the family is even more cryptic than usual.”

Kei didn’t reply, and they kept working quietly. Then, more and more concerned about Yuri’s absence, Kota finally decided to go out and look for him.

~

Kabuki-cho wasn’t too big, but that didn’t mean it was easy to find someone. This was still Tokyo, not a country town, and Kota had had to come to terms with that.

He knew every nook and cranny, both because he had been living there for a long time that because his work required for him to know the neighbourhood like the palm of his hand.

But Yuri knew it almost as well, and he was desperate. Kota had already took a mental note of the most likely places where he could be, so he set his mind to it and started looking.

When he stopped, it was already dark outside. There was no trace of Yuri, and even call a couple shatei to help had proven useless. He tried to call him again, but he got no answer.

He went back to the main road, discouraged, heading back home. He was about to inform Kei, when he came up with one last option before going to the police to report him missing.

He walked faster, wishing with all his might it was the right one.

He slowly turned the key into the lock and just as carefully he took his shoes off, leaving them in the entrance, the floor covered in a thick layer of dust.

He looked around. He threw a quick glance to the kitchen and he saw a used bowl and a pot abandoned in the sink. From the living room he could hear the TV but no one was watching it, so he headed toward the bedroom.

The scene in front of him was heart-breaking. Yuri was in bed sleeping, hugging a pillow, his cell on the nightstand. He was so deep asleep that he couldn’t hear it ring.

Kota sat on the edge of the bed, slowly caressing his hair, as a smile appeared on Yuri’s face.

“Yuuyan...” he muttered, taking his hand and holding it tight.

“Hush.” Kota murmured. “Sleep now. It’s going to be okay, I promise.” he whispered.

Yuri nodded, holding his hand tighter as he went back to sleep.

That situation, Kota decided, definitely had to end.

Kota waited for Yuri to wake up to bring him back home. He didn’t want to bother him, since he barely slept at their home anyway. The signs of the lack of sleeping and the unbalanced way he ate showed clearly on Yuri’s body, thinner and thinner, his face hollow and the bag under his eyes deep.

When Yuri got up and walked out of the bedroom he saw Kota right away, but he didn’t seem too surprised.

“Kei and I were worried.” Kota said, averting his eyes and going back watching the TV.

“I'm sorry.” the younger replied after a long silence. “I should’ve called, you’re right.”

He sat next to Kota on the couch, stealing a cigarette from his packet on the coffee table in front of them. He lit it up and rolled his head back, staring at the wall in front of him.

“Yuya’s shirts and pants aren't here.” he said, slowly. “And neither are his horrible leather shoes.”

Kota looked at him, then he took a deep breath.

“Maybe we should head back home. Kei must...”

“And all his stuff is gone from the bathroom.” Yuri interrupted him, his voice louder now. “His suits are gone, his slippers too. He took his hairbrush and even the damn shower gel.” he panted, as his breath got heavier.

“Yuri, calm down. Let’s go home and...”

“He couldn’t wait to leave me, could he?” he asked. “I... wasn’t I clean enough for him? Was I too tainted after what Yamada did to me? Maybe he didn’t want to touch me anymore. Or he didn’t want me around, and he just needed an excuse. But I didn’t mean to bother him Kota, I just needed him to feel good again. You told him, didn’t you Kota?” he asked, turning to look at him, urge in his eyes. “You told him I love him, right?”

Yabu stared at him for a moment, then he leant over and hugged him.

“You’re not tainted, Yuri. You’re beautiful, and you have to believe me when I say that Yuya didn’t leave because of what Yamada did to you. You have to believe me when I say that he knows you love him, and that he loves you back.”

“But he left. He abandoned me, I just want to be with him. He promised he was never going to leave, and he never breaks his promises.” Yuri sobbed, grabbing his shoulders and hiding his tears against his shoulder.

“Yuya wants to protect you. He doesn’t want anything else to happen to you. He wants you to live your life, to forget him and find someone who can make you happy.”

“I don’t want anybody. I don’t want to be happy if I'm not with him. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he tell me? He’s a coward.” he uttered.

Kota bit his tongue and didn’t answer; he kept holding him, caressing his hair, trying to soothe him.

~

Sendai was big. Kota had been there only a couple of times, and always with Yuya. They didn’t make a lot of business there, their range extended more to the cities closer to Tokyo. But Kota was willing to try this.

After having brought Yuri back home he had stuffed a few clothes in a bag and he had left, making sure he had enough coffee for the ride.

He had to do something, or Yuri’s life would’ve crushed, bringing him to his complete undoing.

When he arrived it the city, it was morning. He stopped the car in an alley close to the train station, he rested his head on a wheel for a moment and he yawned. He grabbed his phone, checking Yuya’s phone one last time, but it was useless.

He left a message out of despair. There had to be a reason why he had left it on. Maybe he listened over and over again to the messages Yuri used to leave him.

He started driving again, getting closer to downtown, he parked his car and went to eat something, caused he was starving.

He was about to pay, when he got an e-mail. He opened it, confused, reading an address from an unknown sender.

Praying that it was Yuya, he got back to the car.

Kota looked at the building. It was in the suburbs, not the nicest neighbourhood.

He grabbed his gun and checked it worked properly. Then he hid it in the belt and put on his jacket.

He walked inside the building and up to the third floor, entering an open door.

Yuya was there.

He looked different. His clothes seemed to be too big, he looked thin. He wasn’t looking at him and he wasn’t saying a word. Kota felt the anger mount inside him and rushed to reach him.

“Thanks for receiving me.” he snarled. “Do you have any idea how crazy all of this is?”

“Let it be, Kota. Things are just fine.” Yuya shrugged. “It’ll pass, and this is how it’s supposed to be. I'm not cut out for that life.”

“You’ve got to stop making decisions for him, Yuya. You’ve got to stop thinking you know what’s best for Yuri, because you’re hardly ever right.” Kota told him, clenching his fists. “You’ve always made the wrong choice, but this beats them all. If you didn’t want him to suffer, you shouldn’t have bought him in the first place!”

Yuya raised his eyes on him and grabbed his collar, pushing him against the wall. He clicked his tongue and then he backed off.

“Are you here about something serious?” he asked, sourly.

“I'm here for Yuri and to bring you back to Tokyo.”

“No way. You know that.” he murmured, turning his back on him again.

“Fuck you Yuya, be reasonable for once. Don’t you realize what you’ve left behind? Did you listen to his messages? Last night he went to your place to sleep, because it’s the only place where he feels safe. He thinks you left him because you don’t want to touch him, because you don’t want to be with him after what Yamada did to him.”

The elder turned abruptly, his eyes wide open.

“It’s not like that.”

“I know that, but he doesn’t want to hear it. You’ve got to come back. He’s not okay, his... mental sanity is hanging on a thread, and you’re that fucking thread. Please.”

“This is all because of me, Kota, can't you see that? Why no one understands? It’s because of the animal I am that Yuri...” he paused. “It’s my fault.”

“Maybe, but Yuri doesn’t feel like this because of the rape. He feels like this because you left, you’ve abandoned him when you’ve promised you were never going to. Last night he cried like a baby. I’ve left as soon as he’s fallen asleep to beg, if that’s what it takes.”

Yuya shook his head.

Kota didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how he felt, what it had been like seeing Yuri on the floor, bleeding, after Yamada had used him for who knew how long.

Kota didn’t understood how it had felt to get close to him and being mistaken for Yamada. Yuri hadn't recognized his voice and his hand and he had struggled, begging to be left alone.

He had never done that with him. He had never cried and had never fought back so hard. He had never begged him to stop, to let him go.

He didn’t want to see him like that again. He didn’t want to put him in danger, knowing he could be the cause of his pain.

He was sure that one day Yuri was going to forget him and that he was going to start living that life Yuya had taken for himself when he was only thirteen.

He was going to find a nice person, with a nice job, who was going to love him for who he was, who was going to be sincerely willing to make him happy. It was going to be someone who knew how to love another human being, not an animal like him.

Yuri was going to forget about him. The memories of them together were going to fade, and he could’ve gone on. He was strong, Yuya knew that much. He was strong, and he was going to overcome this, even though it now seemed impossible.

Yuri’s life needed for him to stay away from him, and Yuya was tired of looking at him and only being able to think about how much he had hurt him.

“No, Kota. I can’t. I’ve made my choice.”

Kota stared at him, his lower lip so tight between his teeth that it was about to start bleeding.

Then he walked to the yakuza, to his aniki, and he knelt in front of him, touching the floor with his forehead.

“Please. Just come. You don’t have to speak to him, but please come and see what you’ve left behind. And when you’ll see how much Yuri’s suffering, then you’ll tell me if you still believe he’s going to forget you. It’s been three months, and all he’s done is waiting for you.”

Yuya grabbed him and pulled him up. He had never seen Kota lower his head and beg. He felt uncomfortable for how stubborn he was being. He wanted to tell him he couldn’t, that he was bound to waver if he had seen him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.

“It won’t change anything, Kota. Know that.”

“Fine. But I have to try.” the younger murmured, turning his back on him and walking down the stairs.

Yuya followed him, his eyes low, until they reached the car. Kota threw him the keys and sat on the passenger seat.

“You drive. I haven’t slept in forever.” he muttered, then he closed his eyes.

Yuya managed to chuckle and got in, starting the engine.

He was in no rush to arrive to Tokyo.

~

It didn’t take them long to get back to the capital; Yuya was a much more reckless driver than Kota anyway. He parked close to Yuri’s school, and Kota looked around, trying to spot him in the crowd.

When he did, what he saw was the exact same thing he had been seeing for the past three months.

Yuya, anyway, was used to it, and Yabu heard him hold his breath.

Yuri’s uniform was a mess; his shirt wasn’t tucked in, he looked down on the ground as if he didn’t care in the slightest where he was going.

He was limping a little, teetering, because of the lack of both sleep and food. He looked even more depressed in Kota’s eyes. His hair was a mess and his face more hollow than usual. He averted his eyes. Seeing him like that was painful, every time.

He threw a glance at Yuya, who couldn’t stop looking at him. His fists were clenched around the wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because he loves you.” was all Kota said, as he lit up a cigarette.

They saw him stop in front of the gate and look around, then grab his cell phone and type something in.

When he put it back in his pocket, Kota’s phone vibrated.

Sorry to bother you at work. I don’t feel like going to school. I think I’ll go walk around somewhere, see you later tonight.

Kota sighed, throwing his head back and turning it in time to see Yuri. He thought he had walked away already, instead he was staring at them.

Him and Yuya were looking at each other, and Kota wished he wasn’t there right now.

Yuri’s face was emotionless as he watched Yuya. His hands held his bag tight, and he didn’t move.

When Kota sat up, ready to do something, the younger finally turned his back and walked away, fast.

Yabu turned toward Yuya.

“Do something!” he uttered, looking at him, bewildered.

“Wha... what the hell do you want? I told you I wasn’t going to change my mind.”

Kota stared at him, then he clenched his fist and hit his aniki as hard as he could.

“Go to Yuri.” he snarled. “You’ve seen it with your own eyes now, how bad your absence is for him. Go to him, apologize, beg if it’s necessary, but you have to bring him to forgive you and come back to Tokyo, or next time you’re going to be here it’s going to be for his funeral!” he yelled.

Yuya looked at him, biting his lip.

“You’re a moron, Kota.” he hissed, getting off the car and slamming the door behind himself.

Kota saw him run across the street, and when he saw him disappear around the corner he fell back against the seat.

Everything was going to be fine.

~

Yuya ran on the sidewalk, looking around. He spotted Yuri easily and reached him, grabbing his arm to make him turn around.

Yuri struggled, but he couldn’t move; he got even more irritated when the people around them lowered their eyes, getting away and pretending they didn’t see them, as if they weren’t actually there.

“What do you want?” he uttered.

“I need to talk to you Yuri. I...”

“About?” the younger interrupted him. “How you’ve abandoned me during the worst moment of my life? How you’ve washed your hands of me? I could accept being your whore, Yuya, but I can't stand being treated like an animal!” he yelled.

“Yuri, I did it...”

“You did it for me? Did you, Yuya? If it was for me, you would’ve stayed in Tokyo, instead you’ve left, without taking  any responsibility. But then again, what’s new?” he panted, his eyes misty.

He brushed them dry with the back of his hand. The street was suddenly empty, and he hated himself for having put on that pointless show.

Yuya stared at him, without knowing what to say. His mind was blank, and speaking alone seemed impossible. He wanted to tell him he hadn't meant to abandon him, that he didn’t want to wash his hands of him. He never wanted to leave him, because he cared about him more than he did of his own life.

He wanted to allow him to lead a real life, one worthy of its name, but Yuri wasn’t going to understand. And looking at him, he realized what damage he had done by leaving like that.

As much as he tried, every time he did something for him ended up making him suffer more and more, and he wasn’t sure Yuri was going to keep forgiving him.

He was tired of disappointing both Yuri and himself.

He fell on his knees on the ground. He wrapped his arms around his waist, hiding his face against him, biting hard on his lower lip.

“Forgive me.” he whispered.

Yuri froze in his hold, but a moment later his hands were in the yakuza’s hair, pulling him back and staring hard at his face.

“I'm glad to see you.” he murmured. “I thought I would’ve never seen you again.”

“I thought I could give you something better.” the elder said. “I hate myself because I couldn’t change completely, and I’ve ended up disappointing you again. I can't, Yuri. I can't stand and see that I can't make you happy.”

“But I am. I am, I am, I am.” Yuri took his hand, kissing its palm. “I'm completely yours, Yuya. I want you. Nothing else.”

“It’s not going to be easy.” the elder whispered, but Yuri shrugged as if he hadn't even heard him.

He smiled to him.

He felt good now, seeing him. Yuya stood up and hugged him. Yuri tiptoed and crashed their mouths together.

The elder enjoyed the taste of that kiss as if it was a new life filling him, as if he hadn't truly lived these past months.

When he pulled away, they were both smiling.

“I’d say it’s time to go home.” he told the younger.

“Yes. Yes, let’s go to our home.”

Epilogue

Yabu stretched, pushing the covers away. He stared at the wall for a few moments, trying to decide whether he should’ve gotten up or not, when he heard groaning next to him. He turned and saw Kei hitting the alarm clock on the night stand.

The younger’s arm fell back on the mattress, and Kota smiled. He got close to him, hugging him and slowly kissing his face, seeing Kei starting to smile as well.

He held him closer, his mouth directly to his ear.

“Good morning, Kei-chan.”

“’morning, Ko-chan.” he mumbled, turning into the elder’s embrace.

“I don’t have to work today.” he told him. “Want to go for a trip? How about Kyoto?”

“I haven’t been in Kyoto in ages.” Kei sighed, content. “Fine. Let’s have something for breakfast and then I’ll fix up something to bring along for lunch. How about that?”

“Best plan ever, Kei-chan.”

He pulled him up and kept kissing his face, relishing the younger’s childish laughter.

“I love you.” the elder murmured, almost afraid to say the wrong thing.

But Kei’s smile grew wider as he pressed himself completely against him.

“I love you too, Kota.” he replied, turning and kissing him. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re going to the kitchen for breakfast. I'm starving, Ko!”

Kota chuckled as he watched Kei jump up and head toward the bathroom. He kept hearing his voice talking to him, and he wished to live the rest of his life exactly like this, with Kei smiling to him every day.

~

Yuri stuff his books in his bag quickly. He was late. Yuya was waiting for him outside the school to go somewhere shopping, he hadn't really understood where; but that morning he had been late too, so he hadn't had time to ask.

Yuya had been back for a few months now, and he had finally started living again. He was never going to stop being grateful to Kota and Kei for having taken care of him. He was still alive because of them, because of them he had found the strength to get up from bed every morning despite Yuya’s absence.

He turned toward his class mate, one of the few he had befriended, and waved.

“Okamoto-kun, I’ve got to run. I’ll call you later for the science project, okay?”

The kid raised his eyes from the book he was reading.

“That’s okay.” he murmured, smiling shyly. “See you tomorrow, Chinen-kun.”

Yuri smiled back and ran away.

Yuya hit his foot on the ground, nervously. He leant against the car, lighting up a cigarette and checking the time.

Yuri was late. He snorted, impatient, and was about to call him when he saw him run toward him, challenging the street’s traffic to reach him.

“Sorry I'm late, Yuuyan.” he panted, smiling.

“Are you stupid?!” the elder inveighed, hitting the back of his head. “Did I never teach you to check for cars before running in the middle of the street like a maniac?!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Anyway, are we ready to go? What use do we have for a new closet, anyway? Isn't ours good?”

“Mh. I thought to put some order to the apartment. We’ve got so much stuff, a new closet might be useful.”

“Whatever.” Yuri replied, shaking his head and getting into the car. “But I'm seriously hungry right now. Can we have lunch first, Yuu?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.” the yakuza muttered, starting the engine.

He was nervous, actually. It was kind of hard to explain to Yuri he wanted to get rid of everything from their past life, that he wanted to start anew.

He was going to turn the page on their story, somehow.

And on the new chapter, there was going to be room only for him and for Yuri. Like a beautiful fairy-tale, the beast long defeated.

He was going to do his best to keep it like that, for the person he loved and that he was never going to leave again.