Pale Tortured Blue 5/? | Uruha/Aoi | NC-17
Chapter 5:
There will always be people who find car rides therapeutic; those who enjoy conversations with windows down as the wind murmurs in their ear while the speedometer increases steadily. Yet Shiroyama wasn’t one of those people. It’s been years since he owed a car and he has almost forgotten how the leather of the steering wheel felt underneath his palms. The arrow kept moving progressively to a larger number without rest till it stopped at 100, causing his heartbeat to come to a halt. He’s never driven at such high speed before yet the driver seemed to be completely unperturbed. Kouyou managed to keep the conversation flowing smoothly, his grip light on the steering wheel, the other hand resting on the gear stick. Kouyou’s car was an automatic one, yet the position of his hand made Yuu feel nostalgic about his old manual Honda Jazz. If Shiroyama didn’t sell his car off back then, maybe he wouldn’t have to endure this taxing conversation with Kouyou right now. But then, it was impossible to rewind time, otherwise he’d already been someplace else, doing better things than this. Especially when that driver was clearly speeding.
“Pretty sure it’s an‘eighty’ zone.”
“Where is Aoi’s mother?” Kouyou merely ignored the previous statement, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of them. And why did this question have to arise? Somehow, Yuu was not too surprised. It was terrifying.
“We don’t live together.”
“Divorced?”
“Never married.” Yuu didn’t particularly like divulging information about his family, ever since he started to receive questioning looks from his neighbours. ‘Child conceived out of wedlock’, ‘single workaholic father’, ‘mother ran away with her lover’ - these phrases permeated his neighbours’ conversations way more often than he would like to hear. Don’t get it wrong - folks in his block were always pleasant and amicable to him and his son, but the sentiment never died down behind his back. Whether it was out of pity or disdain, he couldn’t care less. All he ever wanted was for people to stop mentioning his family status every time he was an earshot away from them.
“You sure do have kids early.”
“Are you going to interrogate me every time we’re alone?” Yuu was close to losing his patience. “I’m starting to regret coming with you.”
“Well, I’ll need to catch up on your life if I want to be a part of it, right?”
Yuu looked incredulously at the younger male. “Who said you’re going to be a part of it?”
“Well, too bad, get used to it because I’m going to be a regular from now onwards.”
Annoyed, Shiroyama looked away.
“What was she like?” Disregarding the other’s blatant disinterest in resuming their chat, Kouyou kept pushing. Because persistence always bore fruitful results, and Yuu was going to give him answers whether he wanted it or not. Kouyou staunchly believed he deserved to know whatever the other was hiding from him all this while; the younger man was too old to play the awkward teenager’s game of avoiding each other - he was not going to simply back off when the closure was almost there. Yes, he wasn’t going to specifically ask for the reason behind Yuu’s sudden disappearance. Been there, done that. Didn’t work. So he guessed, he would have to work around the topic until he got every single necessary detail to piece the whole picture together.
“Why do you want to know about my ex so bad?”
“Just answer the goddamned question, Shiroyama.” Now Kouyou was the one close to losing his temper.
“She was just like you; pushy as hell.”
“See?” Kouyou smirked. “Wasn’t it easier just giving me the answer instead of going around in circles?”
“Why do you care so much?” The other hissed, fed up with the younger male’s busybody attitude (not like much had changed, it seemed).
And what was Kouyou supposed to say? Um, yeah, because you sort of left me without a warning and disappeared for eleven fucking years? Because I clearly harboured some feelings for you and your sudden disappearance literally crushed me the first few months? Wasn’t this obvious? “Because you are a good person.” Despite these invasive thoughts, that was all Takashima could muster in the end.
But what did he mean by ‘good’? Yuu clearly broke his brother’s heart and to some extent, Kouyou’s.
As if reading his mind, Yuu could only sigh in return. “You’re deeply mistaken. I’m far from being a good man.”
Yet again, this fell on Takashima’s deaf ears. Sometimes, it felt like he was constantly filtering the other’s answers, selecting only those that aligned with his convictions. Instead of replying to the previous statement, he pulled over to the side of the road and looked at Yuu. “Can I kiss you?”
Well, this was totally uncalled for.
“Kouyou, it’s been eleven years.” Frowns definitely didn’t belong on Yuu’s surprisingly youthful face, yet fatigue was written all over it. Years of stress had done its job.
“So can I?” Should Kouyou actually push his luck right now? Maybe those destructive feelings for Yuu were long gone but he still needed to know what effect he was having on the other man. How else he was supposed to stroke his ego?Wasn’t it right?
“Kouyou.” Yuu looked at him sternly.
“Yes or no?”
“No!” The other finally snapped, his face immediately acquiring a horrified expression. “L-look. I don’t think you should be asking me this right now.”
“Fair enough.” Kouyou merely shrugged.
“Can I go home now?”
You don’t have to look at me with those pleading eyes. They have never worked on me and never will.
Nonetheless, soon Takashima found himself changing the gear shaft into ‘drive’ as he turned the car back onto the main road and set off in the direction of Yuu’s place.
Maybe bitterness was never able to demolish the soft spot for one particular brunet in him after all.
x
Showing up at work now suddenly transformed into the arduous task familiar to millions of workers. However, that wasn’t the case for Yuu right up until this week. His neighbours were probably correct: he embodied the definition of a workaholic; guess old habits indeed died hard and they simply carried on to his later life. Yuu absolutely loved his job, he didn’t know what he would have done if it wasn’t for this latest career choice. Yet today Shiroyama felt like he had been stripped of his sanctuary. The reason behind such disheartening feelings was being in contact with Takashima Kouyou. This guy had to re-appear in his life when he had anticipated it the least, not even mentioning that now the other two people were back in his life again. He could handle Yutaka’s presence but all three at once, with so much negativity accompanying their return? No. It was definitely an overload. Well, perhaps negativity wasn’t the most appropriate term for it - perhaps, ‘baggage’ was the better-fitting word. And his bitter, almost non-existent relationship with Takanori was at the heart of it. So where did the issue with Kouyou fit in all this? Was it more important than dealing with his brother’s resentment? Yuu no longer understood his priorities anymore.
However, one thing he was absolutely certain about was the dreadful feeling sinking in his chest as he stood right in front of the CEO’s office. With a tightly clenched fist, he knocked on the door, awaiting the cue to enter the room.
“Come in.” The familiar baritone echoed from behind the heavy door. Yuu let out a breathy sigh.
“Good morning Takashima-san,” he greeted the younger man politely. Regardless of Kouyou’s almost tactless behaviour last night, no one had gotten rid of basic courtesy yet even though Yuu wished he could just ignore the other man’s existence. Kouyou was also technically his boss, and his career and livelihood basically depended on this man. Maybe Shiroyama should change the way he talked to the younger man - after all, wasn’t the key to success was to build rapport with the higher ups? But it was Yuu’s personal life that Kouyou was interested in, and outside the hospital, Shiroyama took orders from no one. Whatever happened after working hours stayed after working hours. At work, he was supposed to be at least diplomatic.
“Morning Yuu.” Upon seeing the brunet, Takashima smiled though it never reached his eyes.
Was something up? Yuu felt even more unsettled. However, he tried to brush these nagging feelings away. It’s just Kouyou.
“You know you can call me Kouyou when it’s just us two. How was your night?”
“Should we get straight to the issue?” Yuu declined to answer. The younger man didn’t seem dissatisfied. “You called me in to discuss work-related issues.”
“And you’re absolutely correct about that.” Kouyou pushed a piece of paper across his table. “I’ve got your new draft schedule right here. The office is trying to re-organize the roster so that it fits your timetable at college since you are going to work part-time from now onwards.”
“College?” Yuu shook his head in disbelief. “I thought it was just a few workshops every now and then.”
Kouyou’s solemn expression didn’t signify anything pleasant yet the man remained eerily calm.
“Unfortunately, you do need to have at least a diploma to resume your duties of a chief nurse. That is the minimal requirement that you need to fulfill. There’s also the issue of mandatory postgraduate clinical training.”
“How long is the course?”
“Three years but will probably take longer for you since you’re doing it part-time. We’ll never know though,” Kouyou quickly added before the other could interject. “Maybe you’ll be able to get some leeway due to your previous experience.”
“But this is such a…waste of time.”
“You’re going to be compensated. It’s all paid for by the hospital. And yes, you will still be doing your job, just not so…directly, for the lack of the better word.”
Yuu definitely didn’t really like where this conversation was leading.
“…What do you mean.” It wasn’t even a question.
Kouyou’s expression remained unchanged, and it wasn’t giving the other too much hope. For once, Shiroyama hoped for that familiar smirk to reappear on the younger one’s lips.
Please don’t tell me this is happening.
“We had a meeting early this morning,” Takashima started. “The board of directors was outraged that the information regarding your employment was, roughly speaking, falsified. I’m not surprised that they were not aware of this, as the board typically deals with more pressing issues such as selection of heart transplant receivers. Don’t get me wrong - they were not mad at you. They were angry that the previous CEO withheld this crucial information from them. I heard that Yoshiki-sama was a very practical man and liked to be…frugal. It was more profitable to underpay you than paying a legitimate graduate the actual salary. You also never showed interest in raises or bonuses. Yes, it’s an extremely dodgy practice, I know.”
“Honestly, I don’t really care about that little discrepancy. The pay was still more than I’ve bargained for.” And it was the truth. “But yeah, I’m not sure I like where this is going…”
“Unfortunately, I could not retain your title of the head nurse because you’re technically not accredited by the Ministry. As for now, you are registered in our system as an unlicensed nurse and have been revoked from your old duties.”
Yuu almost felt his soul being torn apart upon hearing those words.
“Wait, what-”
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Kouyou interrupted him.“You’ll still get to see patients but probably won’t retain the same authority over other nurses. I know that the staff respects you - they will surely work around this issue. No one is going to discriminate you over the loss of a title.”
But here was where the other was wrong. Boy, some people would totally take advantage of this situation. With every success, there was bound to be a jealous party - there would be enough people delighted by this news. Yuu just didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.
But what could he do?
“So it still happened after all,” Yuu said bitterly. “I thought you were trying to help me.”
Kouyou almost seemed apologetic. Defeat certainly didn’t suit him.
“I can’t just unilaterally go against their decision. These people are our primary shareholders. We’re lucky that this issue was contained within hospital grounds.”
But this wasn’t enough for Yuu.
“I thought you said Takanori’s argument was not strong enough to demote me.”
“It was not solid enough to fire you but sufficient to convince the directors to rescind your current title. His argument had loopholes but legally he is right. And when it comes to law, there’s too many regulations that you have to abide.”
“You were so confident about winning.”
Takashima caught the resentful notes in the other’s voice. “Maybe it’s time for me to realize that I cannot bypass legislations whenever I feel like it. I’m not a teenager anymore.”
“I guess that’s how you got away with rape, huh.”
Completely taken aback by such outburst, Kouyou could just blankly stare at Yuu. An awkward silence filled the room.
Ah, it’s been a while since he’s thought back about it.
“Yuu.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Shiroyama apologized quickly for his outburst at such inapt time, yet there was nothing apologetic in his expression. There was no trace of guilt in those hollow eyes.
“We can discuss such private matters outside the working hours,” Kouyou said coolly after regaining his senses. “I hope you understand your circumstances. I apologize for any inconveniences that arose due to this decision. All of your expenses are being taken care of, so treat this as paid training. While I cannot guarantee that your salary, privileges and authority will remain the same, you will be thoroughly compensated by the end of it. I did everything I could within my power.”
Lies. It’d only been one day and Kouyou had already stopped pushing the agenda further. So much for empty promises... Yuu, however, knew that there was only so much Kouyou could have done without jeopardizing the hospital’s reputation and his position as the CEO. Yet somehow Yuu managed to work there for seven years without trouble. How deep was Takanori’s hatred that he decided to stir the pot so early? He literally joined the team this week and was already trying to throw Yuu under the bus. All this fancy legal education ended up turning against him. Well, Yuu was no stranger to humiliation. Nevertheless, Kouyou didn’t exactly fail his promise - he indeed prevented Shiroyama from being fired or stripped off all of his duties. The younger didn’t owe him anything, so maybe lashing out wasn’t the greatest of the ideas. The board could easily overrule the CEO’s decision despite his highest authority within the establishment. The directors were also capable of firing Takashima and appoint someone else in his position if he went against their wishes. And, strangely, that wasn’t going to benefit Yuu in any way.
“Like I’ve already mentioned, the clinical manager has released a new roster for you. Meanwhile, the office should have sent you an email with all the details pertaining your course in college. You will receive all the documents necessary for the subject requisite waiver shortly.”
“Understood.”
Shouldn’t he feel privileged that a chief-fucking-executive was personally organizing everything for him? Yuu, however, did not feel this way at all. After all, they put him into this position in the first place. But did they? Or was it the dodgy ex-CEO, who thought he would get away with it? And what was the HR thinking? Wouldn’t they feel responsible for falsifying data? Or were they paid enough to zip their mouth and pretend there was nothing wrong? It was no wonder the whole hospital was re-structured. And if Takashima Kouyou had to play by the rules, then no one should underestimate Takanori’s power as a lawyer, especially teamed up with Akira. They were the ones responsible for the quality of staff thus directly affecting the livelihood of its workers. Even a CEO could not really erase the repercussions of going against the legal advisor.
Yuu left the office with a heavy heart, knowing that he could no longer maintain the same relationship with his co-workers. The only place where he commanded respect has been taken off his radar again. All hard work during the past eight years just went down the drain - he was reduced to almost nothing. Was his little brother so thirsty for vengeance? And how immature was Suzuki to participate in this petty revenge? What good did it do to them? To feel superior to Yuu? Eleven years had passed, people would have moved on by then.
But then what about himself, why did he have to remind Kouyou how he had wronged Yuu before?
No
It wasn’t the same.
A heinous act like rape could not be justified by any means. Scars associated with this traumatic experience may never heal. The act was too despicable to even utter its name, and Yuu wondered how the fuck he managed to come to terms with it. Yes, he accepted his fate and moved on in the end. He could never forget it though, yet managed to gather enough willpower to forgive the perpetrator. Perhaps, in the past, he hadn’t prioritized his feelings over his brother’s enough, claiming that the abuse was the way to go - that it was the only solution to the nightmare that could have unfolded if he hadn’t played by Kouyou’s rules. Now he finally understood that being a pushover wasn’t going to solve his problems but rather further contribute to the self-destruction. He might feel defeated but then, did Kouyou actually break him? Definitely not. Kouyou had to pay for the damage he had inflicted on the other - in Yuu’s mind it involved jail time. Well, him being a hustler wasn’t exactly legal either; but these two acts weren’t comparable on the moral level. One involved two consenting parties, the other didn’t.
Nevertheless, Kouyou paid his price. Maybe not with twenty years of imprisonment, but with a similar, no less traumatizing experience of being sexually assaulted as well. Again, being a victim did not necessarily cancel out your own crime, but it indeed prompted Kouyou to slightly appreciate empathy. Of course Shiroyama would have never wished such distress upon Kouyou’s younger self (or anyone) but karma had been ahead of him. He felt sick at the notion of wishing someone ill but it wasn’t like he never had such thoughts before. It had made him retch because nothing substantial would ever come out of it.
Thus, all he could do was kill them with kindness.
Then how come it felt like he never got anything in return?
x
God knows how many years it’d been since he was involved in something academically related again. Yuu found himself feeling incredibly restless during the lecture, his ears drowned in the monotone voice of the presenter. His eyes kept darting across words inscribed on the PowerPoint yet nothing seemed to settle in his mind. They felt meaningless to him. What was the point of him understanding the science behind protein transport when he was ER-savvy enough to resuscitate a patient on the brink of death? And Shiroyama wasn’t being cocky about it: he was the (ex) chief nurse for a reason.
“It’s only the first day of school and you’re already dozing off.”
Yuu jerked at the sudden voice by his ear and immediately turned around. The owner of the voice cryptically smiled at him. Unfortunately, he had already forgotten her name - not that he cared to remember any of them. It wasn’t like he was going to be all chummy with his cohort and become a part of a ‘friendship’ group. While it was still a new experience to him, since Yuu only had high school education due to his past financial commitments, it was basically the same shit. College did not turn kids fresh out of high school into mature adults right away. Classes barely started but he could already feel annoyance rising up in him. He was almost the only mature-aged student in his cohort.
“Can I borrow your pen?”
“Go ahead.”
Shiroyama was normally more courteous than this. He was just tired. Tired from having pointless classes. Tired from fighting for subject credits with his year coordinator. Tired from unnecessary icebreakers with other students, whose names he still cannot remember. Honestly, he’d rather work three nights in a row than waste his time here.
Turbulent thoughts were about to absorb his mind when his phone screen (still with cracks on it) lit up, indicating an incoming message.
“How’s class.”
Takashima didn’t even ask for his permission (when did he ever?) to use his phone number for personal matters. They weren’t friends. Barely colleagues. Kouyou was his superior and Yuu was the former’s subordinate. Was it even professional to be so involved with your employees? Just because they had history eleven years ago, it didn’t give Kouyou the right to control his life outside work...well, he guessed schooling was job-related since it was being paid for by his workplace.
He probably had to reply Kouyou after all.
“I don’t understand anything.”
“It’s ok, you haven’t been back to school in a while. You can ask me for help anytime.”
Did Kouyou even work? How did he have time to reply so fast? This was definitely a breach in professionalism, together with him barging unexpectedly into Yuu’s apartment or trying to kiss him. What was all this for? They were done eleven years ago.
“Oooh, that’s cute.” Startled, Yuu almost dropped his phone. He had forgotten that he wasn’t sitting alone. Meanwhile, the lecturer barely made progress with the sixty-slide PowerPoint presentation, still stalling on page fifteen. “Your girlfriend?”
“Something like that.” Not wishing to entertain the conversation, he just mindlessly agreed to whatever guess the girl just said. In the mean time, his fingers were busy typing the next reply.
“Ask you for help? You are a businessman, not a medical student.”
“Guess you didn’t know that I almost became a doc.”
Wait, what? Kouyou actually went to a medical school? After all that fuss about parents pressuring him into medicine back in Japan?
“Thought you said you never wanted to be a doctor?”
Yuu could not even fathom why he was showing interest in Kouyou’s life. He was supposed to be drawing proper boundaries and pushing the other man away - not encouraging the conversation to continue.
“Gave it a try for two years. Now I definitely know that it’s not my thing.”
Frankly, Shiroyama wasn’t sure if someone like Kouyou could become a good doctor. A competent one maybe, but a good one? Not so much. Good physicians empathized with their patients while Kouyou barely understood the concept.
Yuu didn’t know what to reply, so he decided to put his phone down until the screen lit up again. But this time around, the message didn’t come from Kouyou.
“Hey, can we meet up?”
x
Yuu didn’t think he was going to see his ex-girlfriend this soon. It’d only been a year since they last met up. Minako might not offer the best company (for a reason), but he’d take her over that boring morning lecture any day. Appearance-wise, she hadn’t changed much. She was still beautiful and no one would argue about it.
“How have you been?”
“Same shit, different day.” It was a blatant lie, but he decided to drop the details. “Yourself?”
“Good. Daisuke and I are going to Maldives next week.”
“Oh, fancy. Have a good trip.”
“How’s work?”
“Nothing’s changed.” Of course he could not let her know about his current circumstances.
Minako acted surprised.
“People still talk about me?”
“How could anyone forget Head Nurse Sugihara?” Yuu sighed. How could he forget how demanding but efficient she used to be.
“Oh please, it’s been a few years ever since I quit my job,” his ex chuckled. To say that he missed her voice would be an overstatement. Somehow her sweet appearance got lost in that slightly nasal voice. Nevertheless, he used to love her for who she was. “Didn’t they appoint you as the chief this year?”
“Yeah, they did.” And I’ve already been demoted.
Yuu didn’t understand the point of this meeting. They literally had the same conversation a year ago, regurgitating the exact statements (with just minute corrections). Minako probably noticed his restlessness as she glanced at his fidgeting hand.
“…How are things at home?”
This dreaded question. Shiroyama knew how much his ex hated that topic yet she never failed to bring it up every time they saw each other. What was her love-hate relationship with this issue? He saw how much it hurt her talking about it. Yuu never pegged her for a masochist. But if she asked for it, he could not refuse her. How are things at home? You ask.
“Good. Aoi is the top student of his class again this year,” he said nonchalantly but carefully examined her reaction.
“Is he still asking about me?”
Of course you’d ask that.
“Minako, he’s still a kid. Of course, he will.”
“You have to understand me.”
Here we go.
“I do. But he wouldn’t.”
“I wish things worked out differently between us.”
“And I wish our conversation didn’t feel like a broken record, re-playing the same old part over and over again.”
“We should have accepted the old lady’s offer. I wasn’t ready to have him and we needed money.”
He almost felt bad for his former girlfriend, as desperation started to lace her words. Nonetheless, his convictions regarding this matter remained unbroken.
“I would not abandon my child.”
Her beautiful face adorned a scornful expression. “I went through the pregnancy, thinking that I would learn how to love him, but no, it never happened. How can you blame me for wishing him gone?”
“I’m not blaming you.” He let out a heavy sigh. Yuu honestly didn’t understand why they had to argue at some coffee shop in ripe daylight. “And I’ve never blamed you for leaving. You didn’t want to keep the child afterwards, fine. But it was a deal-breaker for me. I wanted to keep the child and never stopped you from leaving.”
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to force yourself. It’s okay, motherhood is not for everyone. Otherwise, you would have lost yourself to him.”
“I’ve lost myself to you ever since I saw you half-dead in the ER eleven years ago.”
“I didn’t ask to be brought back to life.”
For a second, anger flashed in her lovely brown eyes.
“As a nurse, it was my duty to save you.”
“And it’s my duty to be the best parent Aoi could ever have. If you don’t want to be involved in his life, so be it. I respect that. But you can’t expect me to drop my child and run away with you every time you request to meet up.”
“Yuu, I still care about you. You know that perfectly well.”
No, you are just being selfish. You want me all for yourself. But life doesn’t work this way.
“Aren’t you happy with Daisuke? He’s everything you wanted, isn’t he? Handsome, rich and child-free?”
“Everything but you.”
Yuu was growing weary of their conversation. It was time to go home. “I have moved on, Minako. You should too. And I don’t think we have to discuss this every time we see each other.”
“Wait!” She suddenly reached out across the table. Only now Yuu just noticed that her hands were clutching an envelope. “I actually had a legitimate reason to call you out today.” Wasn’t it always like that though? Whatever it was, she should have brought it up first before wasting his time. “One of my cousins is getting married, and I’m one of her bridesmaids. She invited the whole family to her wedding ceremony.”
Yuu looked at her quizzically.
“I’m technically not your husband.”
She merely shrugged. “Whether we want it or not, Aoi is still the part of this family. You should probably use this chance to build a…network or something. It is literally an upper middle class gathering.”
“You know that I don’t need this. Why don’t you ask Daisuke to come?”
“The thing is,” she looked away wistfully. “My extended family still thinks we are together. And married. Because my parents are too ashamed to tell everyone that Aoi is basically a bastard.” Yuu flinched at this term - he’d always hated it. “Everyone is also eager to finally meet him.”
Maybe it was actually a good opportunity to move up the social ladder. Not for Yuu, but for his son in the near future. And maybe it was fair for his son to know his roots. Just like Shiroyama, Minako was always secretive about her past, and Yuu respectfully kept it that way. She moved to Tokyo away from her family for a reason.
Perhaps keeping a façade for a few hours wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Alright, I’ll think about it.”
Minako smiled softly.
“RSVP date is in one month.”
Yuu simply nodded then put the envelope in one inner pocket of his coat. He was ready to leave when he sensed his ex-girlfriend’s intense gaze on him again. Her latte remained untouched. “It was good to see you again,” she said.
“Same.” What else could he say?
“Yuu.”
“What?”
How long was she planning to drag this on?
“Are you actually happy?”
Desperate times required desperate measures. In his case, just answer whatever that would make the other end the conversation.
“I am.”
Shiroyama was such a liar, it was almost pathological.
And he had never stopped doing it, even after eleven long years.