Our Dead Souls

Author: simph8
Rating: R (for themes)
Warnings: AU, Aftermath, Angst
Characters: Chinen Yuri, Arioka Daiki, Yabu Kota, Yamada Ryosuke, Inoo Kei
Notes: Story is set after 'Hakanai Yubisaki'.

Our Dead Soul

That night it was pouring rain, and the drops hit the smooth surface of the window almost violently, but the kid didn’t care too much. He pressed his forehead against the freezing glass, wondering why in the world had he left the sweatshirt on the bed when he had gotten up, but he felt too tired to even think about walking back to the bedroom to get it.

In the silence of the night all he could hear was his boyfriend’s slow and deep breathing; he had been sleeping for a while now, and he had no intention to wake him up, to steal those few moments of peace he managed to get from that life.

The younger sighed, closing his eyes. He felt tired, not sleepy. He hadn't been able to rest in a long time.

The last time he had slept properly had been when he was around eight, before ending up in that circle of violence, which had clung to his skin as if it was a layer covering his whole body.

And he didn’t want to think about that patina of filth on him, all he wanted to keep in mind was how good it felt when his boyfriend’s hands were on him, with a delicacy so weird if compared to what he was used to. He wanted to feel the burn of his lips against his chest, he wanted to keep the sharp scent of his skin, and hold on to that every time he was at work.

Thinking about him while someone else was fucking him, helped him to carry on. Remembering how his boyfriend told him he loved him helped him to survive, as if he had an anchor to his ankle bringing him down, while the elder held on to his hands to keep him afloat.

He had been living like that for too long, even though he always tried not to let him see that, to pretend they didn’t live in slavery, that everything was fine; lately, though, he had been having some troubles keeping that mask whole.

It was tiring to pretend, especially since he felt he had lost the faculty to feel, despite the way his heart burst every time he replied he loved him too.

He was scared of not being enough, that he couldn’t give all of himself, and even though he knew he was paranoid, he couldn’t help but feeling out of place.

He felt out of place in their apartment, when they held each other, when they had sex, which wasn’t really sex at all, but a mere need to feel loved, forgetting everything else. He felt out of place there, where everything looked normal, something he had never known and that, he knew it, he was never going to experience wholly.

From time to time he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to die. Die and stop suffering, stop feeling like fodder.

He clawed at his own skin, already brutalized with too many scars to be ignored. He wished he could’ve destroyed that body that too many men had claimed, destroy every single cell, seeing his blood stain the floor and then lay down and die.

But it wouldn’t have been fair, and he knew it. His boyfriend didn’t deserve it, it was too cruel. He wasn’t going to condemn him to that guilt, he wasn’t going to scar him for life.

He owed him at least that.

He sighed again, and again he closed his eyes. He heard steps behind him and then a blanket being put over his shoulders, and he smiled, feeling warmer.

“Thanks.”

“Ryo-chan, why don’t you come to bed? I know technically it’s still summer, but it’s really cold.”

The younger nodded and stood up.

“I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to bother you.”

The elder held him tight, kissing him softly and caressing his cheek with the back of his hand.

“You never bother me, Ryo. I love you.”

Ryosuke felt his eyes wet all of a sudden, and he thanked the darkness covering that moment of weakness.

“I love you too, Daiki.” he pressed further against him, feeling finally safe.

That was all that mattered. Slowly, everything else had long since faded.

~

Daiki startled, coming back to himself. He hadn't gotten lost in his thoughts for weeks, remembering a past that was never going to turn into future. He tilted his head, apologizing with the clerk who had been calling him, concerned, then he rushed to the check-out.

He wasn’t used to buy groceries here; there was a conbini closer to his place, but for a while now he’d rather go farther to do his shopping, spending as little time as possible inside that house. Too many memories there.

His ears filled soon with the useless chit-chatting of old ladies waiting at the counter, complaining about how energetic said kid was or how the husband of the lady living at the top floor had fun with the waitress from that restaurant and so on.

He listened to them, their voices interrupted from time to time by the sound of the register, as the clerk patiently ran every article.

He looked around, trying to get distracted. He watched all the people shopping, with much less focus than him, apparently wishing they could be done soon; he watched them one by one, until he saw a familiar face.

He slit his eyes, staring at him, rummaging through his memories, what he had managed to save from the years before, gotten even slimmer in the past few weeks.

The boy looked bothered, tired, debilitated. He was too pale, and something told Daiki that the surrendered look on his face was not the one he remembered.

He stepped closer, getting a better look at him, then he managed to hear the ladies’ voices again and he got back to himself. He paid for what he had taken and rushed out the conbini, lighting up a cigarette.

The boy got out a short while later, and there Daiki placed him in his mind, and the rage wrapped around his heart, crushing it in its long and cruel fingers.

He was tempted to follow him, before remembering why he felt so alone, why he didn’t want to go back home, why he couldn’t sleep at night.

Revenge was a harsh path to follow, he knew that all too well. He knew that when he was in the warehouse, he knew that when he had started his relationship with Ryosuke, he knew it when he had seen the lifeless body of the person he loved.

Revenge brought suffering. In a chase for power where everyone was both victim and executioner, it made no sense to try and ruin the life of those who had already ruined it on their own.

All of them had already survived a past which had been cruel to each of them.

He clenched his fists and kept watching him, until the cigarette burnt his lips. He groaned in pain and threw the stub on the ground, and there the kid turned toward him, attracted by the sound.

He got closer, slowly, the look on his face that of who doesn’t care about the world surrounding him. But he couldn’t stop looking, as if he felt something stirring in his mind.

“Arioka-kun?” he whispered in the end.

“Uh. Chinen?” the elder asked back, almost hoping he had gotten confused.

“Yes. Yeah, it’s me.” he seemed to lighten up a little. “I thought...” he paused, biting his lip. “I thought you were dead.”

“Well!” Arioka uttered. “I thought you had been bought by Takaki, so I knew you weren’t having it easy.” he stared at him. “But I guess I wasn’t too far off. Does he feed you, at least?” he asked, wondering why he felt so concerned about him.

He wished he could’ve ignored him, turn his back on him, run as far as possible and forget, because forgetting was the only thing which could’ve made him survive.

He didn’t want to blame him for things he hadn't done, but just like Ryosuke before him had, he found it the easiest thing. It was easy to believe that Chinen was the evil, that it was his fault if they had ended up in that situation.

He was easy to think he was the reason, and forget he was just like them. Just because he had only one monster, all day and every day, it didn’t mean he was more or less guilty than them.

Arioka clicked his tongue, irritated by his internal conflict, and let it go. He wasn’t going to allow time, rage or revenge to steal his soul.

“I'm not hungry, lately.” the younger shrugged. “And Yuya’s working in Sendai now. He left, didn’t you know that?”

Arioka opened his eyes wide, surprised.

“They didn’t tell us. Anyway, Yuya didn’t spend much time with us.” he shook his head. “Why did he leave?”

“I couldn’t say.” Yuri replied sourly, a sarcastic smile on his hollow face. “Maybe he’s gotten a promotion and he’s decided to dump everything here in Tokyo.”

“Oh.” Daiki nervously scratched his head. “I’ve got to leave now. We... we’ll see around, alright?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t come here often, but Kabuki-cho is really close. We could meet there, what do you say?”

Daiki wondered why Yuri wanted to see him again and why he looked so incredibly depressed. Yuya was out of the games, wasn’t he? He should’ve been free. At least, if the yakuza hadn't sold him to some brothel before leaving.

“Yeah, fine... why not?” he agreed.

And it was when he saw the relieved smile on Yuri’s face that Daiki felt as if, somehow, he had betrayed Ryosuke.

~

Yabu had just parked his car home, and he watched the main road leading toward Shinjuku when he saw Yuri walk up the street, carrying the shopping bags. He walked toward him and saw him startle, cause he hadn't seen him coming.

“I'm sorry. I... you scared me.”

“My fault.” the elder said, tiredly. “Give me the bags, they look heavy.”

“Mh. Not too much.” Yuri replied, but he handed them to him nonetheless.

“Where did you go?” the yakuza asked, sincerely curious. “Wasn’t the conbini closer?”

“Shinjuku.” the kid commented, shrugging. “I saw there were a few things on sale and I went back to take them.”

“Are you trying to save money? You really don’t need to.” Yabu tried to reassure him.

“Well... I also needed a change of air.” he murmured. “If I'm not in Kabuki-cho I manage not to think about Yuya too much. That’s good, right?”

Kota nodded, slowly, without finding the strength nor the will to reply.

“Let’s go home, Yuri. Kei must be waiting us for dinner.”

~

Yuri was eating his ramen distractedly, while Kota desperately tried to make conversation; his boyfriend was of no help at all, too focused on the TV.

“Yuri, isn't that the idol you like?” he asked all of a sudden, his mouth full, pointing his chopstick at the television.

Chinen raised his eyes on the screen and saw his favourite idol ran with a basket on his shoulders trying to catch some balls.

“Y-yes.” he admitted, blushing when he saw the man stumble and fall on the mattresses on the side of the treadmill. “Didn’t know you watched this show.”

“Yeah, from time to time. It makes me laugh. You’ve been eating later the past few nights, so you missed it.”

“Ah. Yeah, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t need to. You’ll eat when you’ll eat.” Kei reassured him, smiling.

Yuri tried to smile back, then he lowered his eyes and focused on the ramen.

He had been watching the show with Yuya, a few times. The elder usually made fun of it, but he laughed, and Yuri was sure he was truly happy with him, he was sure they could work together. For sure he didn’t think that day after day he holed up inside a room with another boy, torturing him as he had once tortured Yuri.

He had convinced himself that there couldn’t be anything too wrong in their relationship, as unhealthy as it was. He thought he had finally managed to change Yuya, to have been good enough, important enough to erase the demons from his past.

He had truly believed it, in those moment of perfect peace, that being with him was enough to erase the scars, the tears. When they were in bed, and Yuya touched him without hurting him, and Yuri felt like he could’ve burst for how happy he felt, for having believed in him.

Now he felt like an idiot, because he had entrusted his life to him, and see how easily he had messed with him, how good he had been at showing him a man who had never existed, how easily he had believed his every word, made him feel sick.

Everything around him reminded him of just that. Even a silly TV show smelled of those ephemeral yet happy moments which he hadn't been able to hold on to.

Yuri bit his lower lip, then he threw a quick glance at Kei.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could’ve gone out together. Maybe we can go grocery shopping here in Kabuki-cho, how about that Kei?”

Yabu stayed focused on his dinner, surprised and hopeful about that change in Yuri’s attitude. He hid a smile behind his napkin, pretending to be wiping his mouth, and hoped his boyfriend was going to be cooperative, knowing how much he liked to spend time with Yuri.

Kei looked at the younger, as a matter of fact, as a kid in front of a Christmas tree.

“Of course I want to! I’ve been dying to do something together. We can buy a lot of stuff and then we can cook something nice for when Kota comes back home. We can turn it into a pyjama party or something, if we get enough junk food. How about that, Ko? Can we?” he asked, turning toward his boyfriend.

“Of course. We’ve got a lot of dramas to catch up on.” he promised, smiling.

Kei clapped his hands a couple of times and then threw his arms around him, hugging him tight. Yuri smiled, trying to contain the bitterness he felt in his throat, as he attempted to focus on the next day only.

~

The morning after, Yuri didn’t really feel like going to school, which happened often since the yakuza had left. And walking around the streets he realized how ridiculous it was, considering that he had had to beg to be enrolled and to make Yuya accept that he wasn’t going to live in his shadow forever.

Thinking about all those efforts wasted made him feel even worse, but when he was in class his mind was elsewhere, during his tests he couldn’t focus, and at home his head seemed to burst whenever he tried to study, and he always ended up closing the book and doing something else.

He sat at a coffee place, trying to ignore the looks of the people walking down the road, whispering almost frightened Yuya’s name. The yakuza’s shatei rather not look at him, afraid of who knew what kind of punishment the elder might’ve unleashed upon them, even from Sendai.

After the first and only time Yuya’s minions had tried to put his hands on him, no one had dared getting close to him. The only yakuza Yuri had contact with were Kota and Yuya.

A short while later Yuri saw Arioka walking down the street, looking around cautiously. He smiled, relieved, and walked toward him, bowing a little.

“Chinen! I was hoping to find you.” the elder greeted him, smiling. “I tried to ask around, but no one answered. Does it work like that here in Kabuki-cho?” he asked then.

Yuri smiled, caustic, and nodded. Then he pointed at the chair, inviting him to join him.

“Yes. At least when you ask about me. Anyway, I'm glad to see you. I thought I would’ve asked about you to Kota. You know, Yuya’s henchman.”

The younger saw Daiki’s expression shift for a split second, but he didn’t ask. He had had enough, after Ryosuke, of the issues between the yakuza and their whores.

“Well, I anticipated you. You know, I thought about what you said yesterday, and I'm really glad to meet with someone who... you know. Who’s not from where I am.”

Yuri nodded again, and sipped on his soda.

They kept quiet for a while, unsure as to what they should’ve said. They weren’t friends, they had spoken only at the warehouse, and Yuri remembered him only as the one who had opened his eyes as to how things worked there.

He remembered often the day Daiki had been brought away, as if he was a piece of meat.

“Where do you live?” the younger asked, trying to break the ice.

Since Yuya had gone away, the silence and solitude he had once loved so much seemed to weigh a ton.

“Close to Shinjuku, not too far from here. The... the brothel’s close, and we all live in the same building. Nothing fancy, of course. What about you?”

Yuri turned around and pointed at the end of the road.

“Top floor of that building. It’s Yuya’s apartment.” he murmured, repressing his tears.

He took a deep breath, taking advantage of the fact that Arioka wasn’t looking at him.

“Wow. It’s got to be nice.”

“It’s pretty big. But having to clean it every day gets annoying.” he chuckled, biting the inside of his cheek.

“And are you staying there even though Takaki’s gone?” the elder asked, curious.

“Mh. Yeah, well, I'm living with Kota now. To get some fresh air, you know. I figure I’ll go back there soon.”

“Got it.” Arioka stared at him for a while. “That’s a school uniform? Takaki lets you attend?”

“I kind of begged. I’ve been with him for a long time, he knew I wasn’t going to try any trick. He was going to find me anyway.” he replied, bitter.

“Well that’s normal. They always find you in the end.” Arioka commented with the same tone.

“Did you try to run?”

“No, not me. I’ve been remissive enough. But others have tried, and they’ve regretted it later.”

Yuri didn’t ask, he didn’t want to know how they had been punished. He still had nightmares of his own, it was pointless to add up to that.

“Do they let you out of the district? Yuya had forbidden me. Who knows what he thought I could do.”

“Well, we can come here. The family’s bound to spot us, if we’re in friendly territory.” he shrugged. “We can't go any further, or we get punished. Anyway, we’ve got most of the day free, we tend to work nights.”

“When you put it like that, it looks like a regular contract.” Yuri joked.

“Well... it sort of is, right? Many of those like me try to focus on what happens to them. Of course, it’s not pleasant to be forced to sell themselves out, and at first all I wanted was to die. But then I told myself it wasn’t fair. If I manage to see it as a job I manage to survive and keep my sanity.”

Arioka closed his eyes, thinking about how Ryosuke hadn't been able to, how he had let the events suffocate him, destroying his own life and burning it like a bunch of dry branches. Ryosuke had born a weight too heavy for his frail shoulders, and he had decided to throw all his hatred on Yuri. From time to time, Arioka hated him for it.

He hadn't trusted them, their love, he hadn't trusted the fact that he could’ve shared some of his pain with him, that it was right to do so. Instead he had chosen to keep him out of his mind, of his life, and had sought revenge his own way.

And he had found death.

Even though Daiki couldn’t know that, Yuri too was thinking about Ryosuke. He was just another victim turned into executioner only because he couldn’t bear to live that life, he couldn’t bear to have his body and his mind constantly assaulted.

He couldn’t hate him. He could only feel pity and sadness for that soul, which was hardly going to find peace. He wished he could’ve seen him one last time, to tell him that he could’ve kept hurting him, but that it was never going to help.

Perhaps if he had told him that back then he would’ve been saved, Kota wouldn’t have been forced to kill him and he wouldn’t have had to bear in his heart the weight of a death he hadn't been able to avoid.

He kept quiet, until Arioka stood up.

“I’ve got some money.” he told Yuri. “About we go to a mall or something? Take our minds off of everything?”

Yuri nodded, willingly. Perhaps getting distracted with something so trivial was what he truly needed right now.

They spent a pleasant day together, and when him and Arioka parted ways Yuri felt better.

They had made small talk the whole morning, finding out they had a few interests in common; they had made a promise to meet again soon.

Now, unwilling to be alone when he had found some sort of a good mood, Yuri called Kei and told him he had gotten out of school earlier, that they could meet now to go shopping for the night; Kei managed to make him promise he was going to buy him ice-cream and told him he was on his way.

Maybe, if he had made an effort, he would’ve managed to wear that mask again, the one he had worn for so long with Yuya, the one which had already saved him once.

~

That night, after both Kei and Kota had gone to bed, Yuri sat on the couch, setting aside the bowls of pop-corns, the bags of chips, the bottles of coke and beer, and lit up a cigarette.

His phone buzzed and, curious, he grabbed it. It was Okamoto, one of his classmates; a fairly shy kid, Yuri had always wondered how in the world he had managed to survive public school.

The e-mail was short, he asked about his health, concerned about him missing school, then he asked him to join him for an history project.

Yuri replied he had had a fever and that he would’ve been glad to work with him. Then he added he was going to meet him the next day in school.

Once he was done, his phone still in his hand, Yuri bit hard on his lower lip; he told himself that what he was about to do was going to make him feel worse, but he just couldn’t help it.

He needed to hear his voice, because he was tired to live off of memories.

He dialled Yuya’s number and listened to his voice mail, his heart clenching, then he waited for the acoustic signal.

“I'm sorry to bother you. But then again, you’re not going to listen to this message, right? So I can speak my mind. I met an old... well, let’s call it friend. His name is Arioka Daiki, he’s at the brothel in Shinjuku. He’s nice, you know? We get along fine, today we’ve spent some time today. Then I went grocery shopping with Kei and tonight we’ve made some sort of pyjama party. Kei has stuffed himself with ice-cream and chocolate, then with pop-corns and chips while we watched a drama. He’s fallen asleep like a baby, Kota’s brought him to bed a little while ago. I missed you so... well, I thought I could leave you a message. I'm sorry. I must sound like an idiot.” he whispered, trying his hardest not to cry. “I miss you, Yuya. Why don’t you come back? Please. I miss you.” he sobbed in the end, hanging up.

He pulled his legs up and hid his face between his knees, trying to breath evenly and not let Kota hear him.

He just needed to make an effort. Maybe then, one day, he would’ve managed to put Yuya in a far corner of his mind, without allowing him to make him suffer anymore.

Just an effort. Nothing more.

Then everything would’ve been over, he would’ve found his peace and freedom, even though it was never going to be real.

He had found his freedom when Yuya was next to him as his boyfriend, and now that he was alone he felt in chains.

But it could be fine.

Just a little more.

Then it was going to be over.