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It was half past nine on a Thursday night when Akito found himself to be bleeding on his bedroom floor.
He wasn’t dying. If he was dying maybe he’d have been pressing down on the split wounds on his thighs with the towel instead of leaving it beneath him to soak the trickling blood into its dark nondescript fabric. He had been planning to do his own laundry that weekend anyway.
It was always sorta weird when it began to clot and leave globs where he couldn’t bother to wipe away the blood. He couldn’t bear to remain still long enough to give the wounds a chance to scab over, tearing a few open each time he shifted or poked at the cuts. Akito wasn’t even sure how deep the ones on his left thigh were under the bloody mess they left. The few littering his shoulder weren’t bad, maybe a little shaky; his hands had yet to stop shaking and he didn’t know why, his dominant hand still clutching into the red stained blade.
What spurred on this episode is obsolete now. He was essentially fine. Other than the shivering, the blood, and how he swore there was something weighing down on his lungs and limiting his air capacity. The cuts didn’t even hurt. Running the place over the opening only caused it to widen and bleed fresh once more. Akito let out an exhale of a chuckle.
It didn’t even hurt anymore.
His humour was cut short by footsteps on the hardwood hallway of their upstairs level. The Shinonome siblings were both trained to recognize both who were walking and how they felt, so Akito quieted his beating heart and listened.
Ena’s were most typically quiet and slow, hushed steps where she shifted the weight into her toes before her heel, the creaking of the wood panels managing to overpower her tiptoeing. Unless it was late afternoon, then her footsteps are much like an elephants. Their father, Shinei, has a distinct method of walking. The same volume regardless of time of day, the only difference being the cadence. A quicker uneven rhythm often could indicate some stress, likely work, he often didn't worry about his kids long enough for it to ruminate into stress. It was the slow steps that sent off warning signals. Slow, steady, no louder or quieter than usual. Anger. The type that builds within any Shinonome until they inevitably take it out in a way one shouldn’t. How ironic that the man who conceals it the most releases it so ruthlessly.
These footsteps met neither description. They were tentative, unaware of which wood slabs to avoid stepping on as another creak sounded through the hall. The steps continued to approach his room. The room where Akito bled, finally believing that blood really can smell like iron.
“Akito..? Your sister let me in. I finished my paper while staying at the café after practice and… Well you left your hoodie and I was worried you’d get antsy without it so I thought I’d bring it over on my way home.” Toya’s knuckle knocked against his door.
Akito wasn’t panicking, but he realised he was hyperventilating. His already static lacened room only grew more hazy. Without the cognitive function nor time to think of any semblance of a plan, Akito remained silent.
“She did say there was a chance you wouldn’t be home…”
Akito wanted to thank his sister for never knowing his exact whereabouts, though perhaps that wasn’t something to be grateful for.
“I’ll just leave it on your bed for when you get back.” Toya’s calm voice spoke to himself as Akito was forced to bear witness to the slow turning of the doorknob. Fuck. Toya shouldn’t have to see this. He didn’t deserve that.
Akito sat on his bedroom floor in only his boxers and a tank top, his tan skin appearing pale in contrast to the dark red blood covering too much of his left side. Toya clung onto Akito’s yellow hoodie over his arm, still in his jacket having just come inside from walking in the brisk spring air. This only made Akito feel more vulnerable.
Toya had always wanted to be closer to Akito. To breach that barrier and see more of him, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He wanted Akito to choose to trust him with his vulnerability. These aren't the ideal circumstances.
“A-Akito, you’re bleeding. Why are you…” While one hand clutched the hoodie even tighter, his other hand shakily covered his mouth, “Akito there’s so much blood.” His quivering voice sounded of horror.
Toya was afraid of blood. Akito knew that.
Maybe he should have locked his door.
Toya took a step forward into his room although it was clear he didn’t want to. Akito tugged at the damp towel beneath him, attempting to blot away at the half dried blood with only minor success, “H-Hey partner,” Akito’s voice hardly any more certain than Toya’s, “It’s gonna be alright. Just gotta get this cleaned up then we can talk, h-how’s that sound?”
Toya yearned to offer his jacket. To cease Akito’s constant shivering and provide some coverage but he couldn’t.
The taller boy shook his head, though it seemed like most of him was trembling in one way or another at this point, “Akito…” Toya repeated, finally tearing his grey eyes from his partner's tattered skin to stare into Akito’s eyes with a look he wished he hadn’t been the cause of, “Should I call someone? I… I could get your sister?” Toya knew to avoid seeking out the Shinonome parents unless he was actively dying.
“Don’t– She… I know Ena does this too. She’d blame herself and…”
Toya’s thin brows furrowed, he didn’t like that response but nodded nonetheless. He was processing so many things at once, “You did this to yourself…” He admitted, watching Akito blot away at the wounds with a nauseated look, contrasted by the lack of self concern Akito displayed, “…Why? D-Doesn’t it hurt?”
He could hear the tears welling up within Toya by how voice choked out, “It… It doesn’t hurt.” Akito avoided the frightened gaze directed at him. He wasn’t lying; it didn’t hurt. Not yet. It always took a bit for the pain to set in.
“…Can you put that down? I don’t like that you’re still holding it.”
Akito hadn’t realised that he was still holding the blade to begin with. Its edges jagged with how it had been forcefully torn from some mechanism. The original shine was replaced with a dull stain, matching the blood crusted beneath his nails and staining his fingertips. His jaw clenched. He felt paralyzed.
Toya crouched down to one knee, now within reaching distance of Akito. It seemed to help his balance and allow him to be on eye level with the boy he couldn’t read, “A-Akito please hand it over. Y-You’re scaring me.”
He raised his clenched hand, Toya quickly outstretched his own beneath Akito’s as the small metal sliver dropped into Toya’s hand. Neither enjoyed it.
Toya couldn’t close his hands, staring down at the stained weapon. What was he supposed to do with it now? Throw it out? Would Akito just dig through the trash for it the second he left?
Toya broke down in a sob, shaking and heaving with the blade in face up palm. Akito wasn’t sure how to react. The pale faced boy looked like he could pass out at any moment from how much he struggled for air.
“Toya, partner, it- it’s okay. I’m right here, it’ll be alright.”
“H-How… How can you say that?!” Toya sat down on his knees, back hunched in on himself, “You’re hurt… Aren’t.. Aren’t you scared?”
Akito swallowed thickly, unable to bring himself to lie, “...No.”
Toya sniffled, slipping the blade into his jacket pocket, “...How long have you?”
He expected this to happen. Akito took a deep breath. Toya forced a shaky breath, and Akito began.
“In junior high… B-Before we met, found a blade in the bathroom and I had heard about people who did that shit. I was a miserable prick and thought... Fuck it, couldn’t hurt to see what it’s all about.”
Toya didn’t miss the irony in that statement. He shuddered. Akito regretted his poor wording.
“I-It was bad, but I stopped. Shortly after we formed Bad Dogs I guess. I had better things to direct my frustrations towards…” The soaked towel did little to wipe away the leftover mess, but it kept Akito busy. He succeeded in avoiding facing his teary eyed partner.
“But I—” Toya paused, sucking in a breath while wiping at his face with the backs of his hands, “ It wasn’t enough.”
“…I just got a little stressed recently is all.” Akito didn’t have it in him to describe in detail his relapse over the past few weeks of self loathing and doubt. Toya didn’t seem like he could handle anymore either.
He allowed Akito to withhold the story, “…You should clean those and cover them,” Toya turned his head away, “I’m sorry, I can’t help… It’s… It’s too much.”
Akito put a hand on Toya’s cheek, not forcing him to face him again but providing some gentle comfort, “Hey, I know you aren’t good with this sorta thing so I can just… Go to the bathroom and you can wait here.”
Akito’s gaze was met as Toya turned back towards him, his own cold hand grasping over Akito’s on his cheek. The redhead couldn't help but notice how he had managed to smear his own blood on his partner’s porcelain skin. Even Akito found the sight to be sickening.
Toya’s eyes watered once more, “I don’t want to leave you on your own..! I want to come with you, I just… I won’t look.” Akito couldn’t refuse such a look.
Toya turned away as Akito stood. The pain began to set in as Akito winced as the movement agitated the fresh wounds. Toya clearly flinched at the sound, eyes squeezing shut with a sucked in breath. This was going to be a long night.
Akito began to hobble, walking proving to be more painful than he recalled. Fresh and flaking dried blood massacred his leg as the cuts tore open again upon the pressure and movement. He faintly heard Toya sniffle again as Akito made his way to the bathroom.
“Looks like Ena restocked again…” Akito stood against the sink, pressing his hip against the marble for support as he shuffled through the cabinet, “She’s the one always gettin’ me to run errands, yeah? So it’s… Ngh— I don’t know, bandages are always stocked and it sure ain’t my parents doing that.” Although he was the one draining most of their supply, Akito knew it wasn’t all him.
Toya sat on the edge of the bathtub, looking down at his hands in his lap, “…She cares.”
“Yeah, but she wouldn’t look me in the eyes if I ever asked if it was her.” Akito grumbled, pulling out a few gauze pads and a bandage roll. Turning on the sink, he pulled out a handful of tissues, holding them under the running water before he attempted to dap the dried blood off of his shoulder and thigh, “Well… fuck—” Akito clenched his teeth as he persisted and continued to wipe away the crusted red, “Guess you’re right. She cares. It’s just…”
“Difficult.” Toya exhaled, understanding caring but estranged families all too well.
Akito looked down at the bloody tissues, looking all too similar to what he had spotted in his sister's room a few weeks back. She claimed it was paint. Akito nodded, “Yeah, difficult.” He muttered before taping gauze squares over the cuts, a step he normally wouldn’t bother with, but did so for his partner’s sake.
Toya spared a glance, relieved to see that the wounds on Akito’s shoulder were now being wrapped, keeping them covered and to Toya’s comfort, concealed.
“You can go back home, if you want.” Akito murmured, tucking in the last piece of the bandage wrap to keep it secure.
“No..!” Toya stands with speed as if Akito was about to vanish before his eyes. He imagined that must be how it felt for him. That Akito was slipping through the pianist's fingers. For a moment Akito believed for it to be true.
“Alright,” Akito soothed, hands raised in front of him in surrender, “You can uh… You can stay the night. We’ll leave early for school tomorrow so you can get your uniform from home, alright?”
The knowledge that this was just another school night was displeasing to Toya. Akito didn’t look forward to waking up early for school either.
He nodded his head, “C’mon, let's get back to my room.” Akito turned, expecting Toya to follow him.
Toya went to follow, pausing as he glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hands clasped over his mouth with what Akito couldn’t differentiate between a sob or a gag.
When Akito turned, he was no closer to understanding which it was.
Grey eyed wide with horror, a tremor in the hands over his mouth as the tears flooding his eyes spilt over down his fingers. The salty tears caught the smudge of blood on his cheek, the now reddened tears tainting his skin. Oh. Oh god why did he do this.
Why did Akito subject his partner to this?
Scratch the fact that he had torn his own skin to shreds. Toya , the caring, but stoic musician was crying and it was Akito’s fault.
Toya could no longer see the remaining evidence of blood with how the tears blurred his vision, but it was the awareness of it that hurt. His breathing irregular and knees buckling inwards.
Akito stepped forward, hands landing on Toya’s shoulders to ground him. Or maybe prevent him from collapsing, “Hey, it’s okay. I– I mean…” Shit. Akito can’t comfort people for the life of him, “...They’re all wrapped up. Nice and clean so no infections.”
Toya still quivered, though his eyes attempted to focus on Akito now in front of him as opposed to his own reflection in the mirror at his side. Akito attempted to mend things again, “Here, how about this…” He reached a hand towards Toya’s cheek, nudging away his hands so Akito could cup the side of his face, thumb wiping away the dried smudge with the moisture of the flowing tears beneath the pad of his thumb, “It’s all gone. No more blood. Just focus on me, partner. I’m right here in front of you.” He reassured, although quietly, as to not alert the other members of the Shinonome household, “Can we go to my room? I promise it’s more comfortable there than this bathroom.”
The crying boy gave a shaken chuckle, followed by a sniffle and a nod. Toya didn’t yet attempt to speak, as Akito took a gentle hold of his wrist, leading him the short walk from the bathroom to the adjacent room.
Akito’s room was left in… difficult condition.
The word of the night, difficult . This was all so fucking difficult.
At least trying to comfort Toya served as a distraction from the whirlwind of feeling that preceded the relapse. Though the sight of his room didn’t do much to improve the odds of improvement.
The bloody towel.
“Just stay there for a sec, alright Toya?” He gave a hardly convincing smile, interrupting Toya just outside of the doorway.
Toya gave a nervous nod.
Akito hastily kicked the towel beneath his bed, grabbing a tissue and throwing it down to wipe the remaining stain with his foot before the tissue followed suit. Hidden away from seeing eyes. Luckily his floor material meant blood washed off easily. From his experience at least. He’ll deal with the crap under his bed another night.
“...Can I come in now?” Toya whispered from around the corner. Akito felt his heart break.
“Yeah. Yeah come on in.” Akito took the opportunity to pull on an old concert shirt, hiding some of the bandages on his shoulder and giving him at least a little more dignity.
He watched Toya peak into the room before wobbling in, eyes on the ground. It broke Akito’s heart to see Toya so nervous like this. Hurting more than the steady ache of his shredded skin.
Toya seemed unsure of his place. Shifting his weight back and forth, unknowing what he was supposed to be doing. His pale skin was still puffy and reddened around his eyes. Akito put a hand on his back to guide him toward his bed, “C’mon, we’ve both been through a lot so how about we get comfortable and just watch something. How’s that sound?” Akito proposed, desperate for a distraction for the two.
Akito observed Toya shed his jacket, folding it with shaking hands and laying it over the redhead’s desk chair. He was still wiping his tears while he crawled into Akito’s unmade bed. Luckily unaware of what laid beneath.
“W-We have to talk about that, Akito…” Toya sniffled.
Akito wrapped an arm around Toya, pulling him in closer to his side, “We could,” Truthfully Akito didn’t want to, “...But I’ll be right here next to you. Nothing will change and we can talk about it tomorrow.”
Call it procrastination. Calling it looking out for Toya.
Toya snuggled in a little closer, laying an arm over Akito’s stomach, his head coming to rest on his shoulder, “...You promise we’ll actually talk?” Akito could feel the tears through his shirt. The pressure against his shoulder made the cuts sting. He held Toya even tighter.
“Yeah, we’ll talk.”
It wasn’t dishonest, but Akito equally couldn't yet guarantee it was true.
“Okay.” Toya whispered, “I’m not hurting you, am I?” He asked, raising his head from where he laid against Akito’s shoulder.
“No. Never.” That too was a lie. He lied to his partner, brushing a stray hair from his face.
Satisfied with the answer, he leaned against Akito once more.
Once more Akito bore the pain.
He would always bear the pain. The weight. The stress.
Or perhaps Akito would just bear whatever pain he could find to prove a point.
“Can we listen to something?” Toya asked quietly, settling against Akito’s side.
Akito shifted, awkwardly having to reach into his back pocket from beneath himself to retrieve his phone, using his free hand on the arm that wasn’t taken to turn on his phone, “Y-Yeah of course. Just gimme a sec–” He searched the web looking for anything calming to play while the two wound down from the events that had just occurred.
He settled on a recording of a show by a musician Kohane had recommended to him. Some Japanese indie band that had been gaining traction. They fused unconventional instruments into melodic beats.
The video began playing, Toya adjusted his head on Akito’s chest to watch the screen with his half open eyes, mostly just listening. His weight on Akito’s shoulder shifted, causing the stinging pain to ignite once more. He clenched his teeth but didn’t mention it. That could wait for another time.
The pain fizzled out and Toya’s eyes seemed to be shut. Akito was alone once again. This time he realised he had to change, if not for himself then for Toya. For Vivid Bad Squad.
The rest of the video played out quietly until he must have dozed off.
Tomorrow will be tomorrow’s problem. At least they could face it together.