[fic] Save Me - Uruha/Ruki - 3/?
Title: Save Me
Chapters: 3/?
Author: BrokenHime
Genre: AU, angst, drama, romance
Warnings: (mentions of) attempted suicide, mentions of sexual abuse, teacher/student relationship
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: Uruha/Ruki
Disclaimer: I bought them on eBay.
Synopsis: His eyes looked empty. You would’ve thought that after everything that happened, you would see some kind of pain in those dark orbits. But there was nothing.
Comments: Chapter 3! There's a lot going on in my life right now, so I don't know when I'll be able to write/post chapter 4. Sorry for all the waiting!
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2
‘I just feel like I have to do something’ Kouyou said into his phone while making tea.
‘Like what, buy a white horse and scoop him into your arms and ride off into the fucking sunset?’
‘Akira…’
‘No, listen. You’re his teacher, he’s your student. Get too involved in this shit and he’s not going to be the only one with major problems.’
‘I know, Aki. But you haven’t met him. You haven’t seen him. Did you know that he never speaks to anyone? I’m the only he talks to--’
‘So I’ve been told, yes.’
Kouyou sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘Akira, I can’t stand by and be ignorant about this. He tried to kill himself once. When you look into his eyes, you only see his eyes. There’s no one behind them anymore. He asked me for help. Me. I can’t push him away. I--’
‘I know, Kou. I know…’
Both men stayed silent for a while. Both of them calmly breathing in and out. Both of them lost in thought.
‘You know,’ his friend said at last. ‘you really have to stop reading teacher/student BL manga.’
‘What do you--’
‘They’re a bad influence on you. Creating your own romantic story with the sad boy…’
‘I don’t--’
‘You pervert.’
*
The sound of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing was the background music to his live-action nightmare. His body was becoming numb with pain, his cheek rubbing against the tiles of the bathroom floor, his chest aching with every movement. The body made of flesh and bones hovering over him felt like a prison made of concrete and metal.
His eyes were closed. He couldn’t stand watching whatever came into his line of vision. A hairy arm covered in sweat, a face twisted in pleasure.
Heavy breathing turned into moaning. Moist and hot breath kept hitting his face. He felt sick. He tried to keep his body limp, hoping that it would hurt less if he did. But it didn’t. The throbbing pain between his legs increasing with every thrust.
Gasps, frantic movement and a groan signalled the end. Hot fluids filled his insides. He felt his stomach turn, but he knew that he wasn’t allowed to puke. If he did, it would all start again.
His father pulled away from him. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, a pleased grin on his face. He combed his fingers through his hair and looked down at his son.
‘You really are a good for nothing fag, did you know?’ He did.
‘Your mother should’ve let you die on this very floor…’ He knew.
‘Nobody cares about you’ and with this, his father left him lying on the floor. Takanori slowly opened his eyes. They were a bit misty with unshed tears.
Nobody cares about you. His mind kept replaying that phrase. Nobody cares about you.
He got up off the floor, his father’s seed dripping over his thighs. Two little steps and he was standing in front of the mirror, on the exact place his father stood first.
Please talk to me… His smile. I want to be able to help you… Those warm, glowing eyes. Please tell me if I can help? His gentle touch.
Takanori broke down crying.
*
‘Tell me about your home.’
Takanori was once again staring at the white desk of his psychiatrist. He truly hated that piece of furniture.
‘Do you like it at home?’
Tic-toc, said the modern clock.
‘It’s not my home.’
The psychiatrist frowned and touched his chin. ‘But you live there, don’t you?’
Takanori looked up and looked the older man directly in his eyes.
‘It’s not my home.’
The clock kept talking. Takanori didn’t.
*
Kouyou looked at his class. All his students were present, minus one. Takanori was absent. He has been for three days already. Kouyou started to worry. The last time he saw him was…
You can save me.
What if something happened to him? What if he tried to kill himself again?
Kouyou frowned. Maybe he could pay the Matsumoto-household a visit. He knew that it was unusual for teachers to do such things. But Kouyou promised his mother to keep an eye on him at school. Surely his mother would understand him if he told her that he was concerned by his absence.
He nodded to himself. If Takanori didn’t show up the rest of the week, Kouyou would go to his house.
*
It was Saturday and Takanori was sitting in a peaceful garden. Headphones were blasting music into his ears, blocking out the sounds surrounding him. The sounds of four old men bickering and moaning about today’s society a little further away, a bird singing his heart song. He had a sketchbook in his lap, a pencil between his fingers.
Suddenly, there was another muffled sound. Like someone was talking to him. Takanori lifted his gaze up from his paper, locking eyes with a tall man. His breath hitched in his throat. The gentle eyes of his teacher were looking back at him. He quickly did his headphones off and apologized for not hearing him earlier. Kouyou smiled at him once again and said that it didn’t matter.
‘How are you doing?’
Takanori shrugged. ‘I don’t know, to be completely honest…’
Kouyou nodded and sat next to him on the ground.
‘I was a bit worried about you. You didn’t come to school last week and I began to think that something may have happened to you. So I decided to visit you at home, but you weren’t there either. Your mother told me that you were here, so…’
Takanori lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re rambling.’
Kouyou laughed softly and scratched the back of his head. ‘I know.’
They stayed silent for a bit longer, Kouyou trying not to look at his student while Takanori openly stared at his teacher. He couldn’t understand why this man was doing this. He was nothing but kind to him. He offered to help him. He gave him the feeling that someone cared about him.
Kouyou then looked at Takanori, eyes locking once more.
‘How can I save you?’
The question came unexpectedly but it was sincere. But it wasn’t just a question for Takanori. To him, it felt like someone punched him in the gut while hugging him at the same time. Like someone was giving him oxygen while pulling him to the bottom of the ocean to drown.
‘Please, Takanori--’ That word again. Please.
His eyes clouded over with tears. He stood up, letting his sketchbook fall to the ground.
‘I should go. I need to get home.’ But Kouyou didn’t listen. He gently took Takanori’s hand in his.
‘I’m not letting you go. Not now. Tell me how I can save you.’
Takanori tried to get out of Kouyou’s soft grip, but it was like quicksand. With every movement he made, Kouyou held him even further until he was disappearing in his embrace.
He was panicking. He could feel his walls falling down, his emotions bubbling to the surface. He tried to fight it. He really did. Blinking away his tears and biting on his lip to keep everything bottled up inside.
Until he felt a pair of soft lips against his forehead. Then he broke down.
Chapters: 3/?
Author: BrokenHime
Genre: AU, angst, drama, romance
Warnings: (mentions of) attempted suicide, mentions of sexual abuse, teacher/student relationship
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: Uruha/Ruki
Disclaimer: I bought them on eBay.
Synopsis: His eyes looked empty. You would’ve thought that after everything that happened, you would see some kind of pain in those dark orbits. But there was nothing.
Comments: Chapter 3! There's a lot going on in my life right now, so I don't know when I'll be able to write/post chapter 4. Sorry for all the waiting!
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2
‘I just feel like I have to do something’ Kouyou said into his phone while making tea.
‘Like what, buy a white horse and scoop him into your arms and ride off into the fucking sunset?’
‘Akira…’
‘No, listen. You’re his teacher, he’s your student. Get too involved in this shit and he’s not going to be the only one with major problems.’
‘I know, Aki. But you haven’t met him. You haven’t seen him. Did you know that he never speaks to anyone? I’m the only he talks to--’
‘So I’ve been told, yes.’
Kouyou sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘Akira, I can’t stand by and be ignorant about this. He tried to kill himself once. When you look into his eyes, you only see his eyes. There’s no one behind them anymore. He asked me for help. Me. I can’t push him away. I--’
‘I know, Kou. I know…’
Both men stayed silent for a while. Both of them calmly breathing in and out. Both of them lost in thought.
‘You know,’ his friend said at last. ‘you really have to stop reading teacher/student BL manga.’
‘What do you--’
‘They’re a bad influence on you. Creating your own romantic story with the sad boy…’
‘I don’t--’
‘You pervert.’
*
The sound of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing was the background music to his live-action nightmare. His body was becoming numb with pain, his cheek rubbing against the tiles of the bathroom floor, his chest aching with every movement. The body made of flesh and bones hovering over him felt like a prison made of concrete and metal.
His eyes were closed. He couldn’t stand watching whatever came into his line of vision. A hairy arm covered in sweat, a face twisted in pleasure.
Heavy breathing turned into moaning. Moist and hot breath kept hitting his face. He felt sick. He tried to keep his body limp, hoping that it would hurt less if he did. But it didn’t. The throbbing pain between his legs increasing with every thrust.
Gasps, frantic movement and a groan signalled the end. Hot fluids filled his insides. He felt his stomach turn, but he knew that he wasn’t allowed to puke. If he did, it would all start again.
His father pulled away from him. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, a pleased grin on his face. He combed his fingers through his hair and looked down at his son.
‘You really are a good for nothing fag, did you know?’ He did.
‘Your mother should’ve let you die on this very floor…’ He knew.
‘Nobody cares about you’ and with this, his father left him lying on the floor. Takanori slowly opened his eyes. They were a bit misty with unshed tears.
Nobody cares about you. His mind kept replaying that phrase. Nobody cares about you.
He got up off the floor, his father’s seed dripping over his thighs. Two little steps and he was standing in front of the mirror, on the exact place his father stood first.
Please talk to me… His smile. I want to be able to help you… Those warm, glowing eyes. Please tell me if I can help? His gentle touch.
Takanori broke down crying.
*
‘Tell me about your home.’
Takanori was once again staring at the white desk of his psychiatrist. He truly hated that piece of furniture.
‘Do you like it at home?’
Tic-toc, said the modern clock.
‘It’s not my home.’
The psychiatrist frowned and touched his chin. ‘But you live there, don’t you?’
Takanori looked up and looked the older man directly in his eyes.
‘It’s not my home.’
The clock kept talking. Takanori didn’t.
*
Kouyou looked at his class. All his students were present, minus one. Takanori was absent. He has been for three days already. Kouyou started to worry. The last time he saw him was…
You can save me.
What if something happened to him? What if he tried to kill himself again?
Kouyou frowned. Maybe he could pay the Matsumoto-household a visit. He knew that it was unusual for teachers to do such things. But Kouyou promised his mother to keep an eye on him at school. Surely his mother would understand him if he told her that he was concerned by his absence.
He nodded to himself. If Takanori didn’t show up the rest of the week, Kouyou would go to his house.
*
It was Saturday and Takanori was sitting in a peaceful garden. Headphones were blasting music into his ears, blocking out the sounds surrounding him. The sounds of four old men bickering and moaning about today’s society a little further away, a bird singing his heart song. He had a sketchbook in his lap, a pencil between his fingers.
Suddenly, there was another muffled sound. Like someone was talking to him. Takanori lifted his gaze up from his paper, locking eyes with a tall man. His breath hitched in his throat. The gentle eyes of his teacher were looking back at him. He quickly did his headphones off and apologized for not hearing him earlier. Kouyou smiled at him once again and said that it didn’t matter.
‘How are you doing?’
Takanori shrugged. ‘I don’t know, to be completely honest…’
Kouyou nodded and sat next to him on the ground.
‘I was a bit worried about you. You didn’t come to school last week and I began to think that something may have happened to you. So I decided to visit you at home, but you weren’t there either. Your mother told me that you were here, so…’
Takanori lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re rambling.’
Kouyou laughed softly and scratched the back of his head. ‘I know.’
They stayed silent for a bit longer, Kouyou trying not to look at his student while Takanori openly stared at his teacher. He couldn’t understand why this man was doing this. He was nothing but kind to him. He offered to help him. He gave him the feeling that someone cared about him.
Kouyou then looked at Takanori, eyes locking once more.
‘How can I save you?’
The question came unexpectedly but it was sincere. But it wasn’t just a question for Takanori. To him, it felt like someone punched him in the gut while hugging him at the same time. Like someone was giving him oxygen while pulling him to the bottom of the ocean to drown.
‘Please, Takanori--’ That word again. Please.
His eyes clouded over with tears. He stood up, letting his sketchbook fall to the ground.
‘I should go. I need to get home.’ But Kouyou didn’t listen. He gently took Takanori’s hand in his.
‘I’m not letting you go. Not now. Tell me how I can save you.’
Takanori tried to get out of Kouyou’s soft grip, but it was like quicksand. With every movement he made, Kouyou held him even further until he was disappearing in his embrace.
He was panicking. He could feel his walls falling down, his emotions bubbling to the surface. He tried to fight it. He really did. Blinking away his tears and biting on his lip to keep everything bottled up inside.
Until he felt a pair of soft lips against his forehead. Then he broke down.