aroma -- chapter 06
Title: Aroma
Chapters: 06/07
Author: invisiblehabits
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Malexmale sex, abuse, character death, violence, murder, fluff
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto, Saga/Shou
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t know. Won’t make money, unless you feel like paying me to read.
Summary: “I can’t sleep in our bed. I can’t step into the shower. I can’t eat, I can’t face people, I can’t do anything because everything reminds me of him.”
Comments: I am dreadfully sorry this chapter took me forever and a decade to complete and publish. Real life struck big time, that’s all I can say. Forgive me and please enjoy now, finally - chapter six!
- - -
Two weeks had passed since Hiroto’s funeral and Tora had gone back home to his own apartment. Saga set the breakfast table for two and sighed. He worried about both of them - Tora and Shou. Hiroto’s death had been a shock to him as well, but Saga knew the other two were worse off. Shou had known Hiroto since childhood, had supported the younger as he came out as gay, and shared a deep friendship with him. And Tora… Saga couldn’t even imagine what Tora was going through. The thought of losing Shou in a way similar to how Tora had lost Hiroto was a nightmare, but Saga knew it didn’t compare to what Tora was going through.
He didn’t pour the coffee just yet. Instead, he went back to the bathroom and found Shou staring at himself in the mirror. The only thing that gave the other man away were his eyes. Shou’s eyes were always sparkling with joy and laughter, but now they were just…dull. Dull with grief.
“Come on, baby,” Saga beckoned. “Breakfast is ready.”
Shou smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
They returned to the kitchen and Shou took a seat while Saga finally poured the coffee. There wasn’t much difference between this morning and the mornings a few weeks back. Life went on. They ate, they slept, they went to work, and they got home. Saga had only taken two days off after the surprising death whereas Shou had waited till the funeral was over before returning to his own job. Luckily, his boss had not protested the request of a short leave.
But their lives had gone back to normal. Or as normal as it could be at the moment.
“I figured I should drop by Tora’s place after work,” Shou said after a short silence. “He’s not doing well…”
“No,” Saga agreed. “Hiroto really was everything to him.”
Shou nodded and quickly dried a tear from the corner of his eye before it could fall and smear his makeup. At first he’d been crying hysterically nonstop, always one to show his emotions openly. But eventually he’d realised that he had to move on - that Hiroto would’ve wanted him to move on.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone.” At least it was easier to talk about it now. “I keep thinking that he’s going to show up any minute.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I only knew him for a few years and I really miss him, I can only imagine what it’s like for you and Tora.”
“Worse for Tora than for me, no doubt.” Shou didn’t hesitate to utter those words. “I still have you to come home to; to seek comfort and support in. Tora has….nothing.”
They finished breakfast in silence. It was nice just to hear the other’s coffee cup clanking against the table or the ruffle of his clothes as he reached for another piece of bread. Such ordinary things. Things you took for granted. Things, they both realised, Tora no longer had.
“Did you know his parents called the day after the funeral?” Saga asked as they were cleaning the table.
“Tora’s?!” Shou’s already large eyes grew positively huge and there was a clear strike of worry in them as he looked at his boyfriend. “What did they want?”
Tora had told Saga the story about his parents himself. Of how they refused to accept that he was gay and for a long time tried to convince him to take therapy and see doctors about it. To them, homosexuality was a disease and they desperately wanted their son to search for a cure. When he got his first real boyfriend in college they had more or less cut him off entirely. Shou did not like the sound of them having called Tora that close to the funeral.
“Yeah, Tora was absolutely livid about the call too,” Saga went on. “Apparently his mother called to ask if he was willing to quit the nonsense and get help now.”
Shou’s knees gave out underneath him and it was by pure luck alone he landed on one of the kitchen stools. What must Tora have felt in that moment? He’d just buried his lover, the man Shou was certain Tora had hoped to spend the rest of his life with, and his own mother asked him such a thing. It was unbelievable. In fact, Shou doubted he would’ve believed the statement if he hadn’t been unfortunate enough to meet Tora’s parents at one point. Needless to say their homophobia clashed rather violently with his own flamboyant nature.
“I swear to god I’ll slap that woman senseless if I ever see her again,” Shou mumbled and slowly stood up again. “And I’ll definitely go see Tora after work today - see how he’s doing.”
“You should,” Saga nodded and headed for the hallway. “Give him my best, okay?”
“Of course,” Shou promised.
They got dressed and walked together to the subway station. Once there they had to take different trains however. Shou threw his arms around Saga’s neck and hugged the shorter man hard.
“Be careful today, please?” he said. Ever since Hiroto’s death he’d been terrified the same thing would happen to Saga.
“I will. I promise.” It was the constant reply from Saga. “You look after yourself too.”
They both knew that Shou was at more risk than Saga. Shou was the obvious one but Saga was proud of him for not having changed the fact even in the face of what had happened. They kissed in the open, not caring if people saw, and then began elbowing their way to their separate trains. Shou turned around just as the doors to Saga’s train were closing and waved. Saga saw him and waved back. With a slight smile that actually reached his eyes, Shou turned around and entered his own train.
- - -
Tora had thought the first days after Hiroto’s death would be the worst. They had been awful, no question. Every morning when he woke up there was a brief, brief moment when he didn’t remember what had happened and expected to find the other next to him in bed. Then reality hit. He realized he was lying on a couch, not in a bed, and all he could see was Hiroto’s mangled face where he’d lain on the hospital bed. It didn’t matter how many times it happened, each morning was equally painful.
Shou and Saga had been a great support. They really had been. But eventually Tora knew he couldn’t intrude on them anymore. They had their own grieving to do and they kept it back for his sake. He thanked them for their kindness and moved back to his and Hiroto’s apartment. Only it wasn’t his and Hiroto’s anymore. It was only his.
And things only got worse from there on.
Everything in there reminded him of his lover. The small frame that truly had been his everything. Hiroto’s photos decorated the walls, his CDs and DVDs littered the place, his clothes were still strewn carelessly over the apartment. But the worst thing was that everything in there smelled like him. The entire apartment smelled like Hiroto. It had been Tora’s favourite scent ever since he first filled his nostrils with it, but now it had turned into a curse.
He didn’t dare sleep in the bed for fear of overpowering that scent with his own. Not to mention that bed reminded him of way too many happy times that would never come again. The first time Tora realised he’d never wake up next to Hiroto again was the last time he tried to sleep in there. All he could think of was how the younger man had jumped him that morning. How Hiroto had straddled him with his cold wet thighs and ensured him he had time for some fun before leaving. It had been such a perfect morning…
Tora shook his head to try and get rid of the images -futile attempts, but he needed to try- and emptied the drink in his hand. Whiskey. The bottle was on the table before him and judging by the remaining content Tora was quite drunk. He knew he drank too much, but it was the only way to relieve the pain. He drank to dull his mind and smoked continuously to keep himself occupied. But only ever out on the balcony, which was where he spent most of his time. Cigarette smoke clung to walls and fabrics and removed any previous smells, something he could not have happening to the apartment. The smell was the only thing he had left of Hiroto and as much as he hated it he still needed it.
What he also needed was a shower. Another thing he couldn’t bring himself to do, step into the shower. That was where he’d touched Hiroto -held him and loved him- hours before he died. The few times he’d forced himself to actually step under the spray because the stench surrounding him got too bad he’d ended up spending hours curled in on himself on the floor and crying till the water ran cold.
The doorbell sounded throughout the apartment again. Someone had been at the door for about fifteen minutes but Tora ignored them. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone today. Besides, he was fairly certain it was Shou or Saga at the door and they had a key to let themselves in if necessary. Another one of Hiroto’s suggested precautions; let someone they trusted hold a key to their apartment if anything ever happened to the two of them. Why was it that everything, absolutely everything, reminded him of Hiroto?
He knocked back another glass of whiskey as a key sounded in the door. For a second his heart fluttered, hoping against hope that it was Hiroto returning home. Tora hated his body and mind for its inability to accept that the younger was gone -dead- because it was he who had to deal with the pain each and every time.
“Tora?” Shou’s voice. “Tora! Are you home, Tora?”
Tora knew he should answer the call and that it would be the polite things to do and whatnot, but he couldn’t be bothered. He figured Shou would find him sooner or later. Probably sooner, if he knew Shou right, the man would not stop looking until he’d found him. And it wouldn’t be very hard to find him once you went searching through the apartment.
True enough, minutes later the balcony door opened and the chair next to Tora’s -Hiroto’s chair- was pulled out to allow Shou to sit down. It didn’t upset him. He wasn’t petty enough to be upset by such a thing. It was just that he didn’t want company. Not unless the company was raised from the dead.
“Did you drink all that today?” Shou asked and gestured for the liquor bottle.
“Since noon,” he replied and reached for it to refill his glass once more.
Shou grabbed it and moved it out of his range. “I think you’ve had more than enough, Tora.”
The brunette snorted. He was drunk and he would not deny that fact, but he didn’t see the point in changing that. There was no one waiting for him, nowhere he needed to be. He was on leave from work. His boss had told him to take the time he needed which had surprised Tora quite a bit. Not that he was about to complain. Going back to work was about the last thing he wanted to do right now. He was not fit to take on the responsibility it meant to handle other people’s money right now. Not to mention, the bank was where his and Hiroto’s relationship had really begun.
“Give me the bottle, Shou.” There was something dark and slightly dangerous to Tora’s voice as he spoke. Commanded. “I need that drink.”
“What you need,” Shou said and wrinkled his nose. “Is a shower and some clean clothes. Honestly Tora, when was the last time you stepped outside the apartment?”
He didn’t respond to that and Shou didn’t press. They both knew the older hardly ever stepped outside anymore. He’d go out every now and then to get groceries, most of which were left uneaten, and more alcohol. The latter he drank. In too large amounts. A fact that had already been stated.
Shou sighed. Somehow it sounded defeated. “You are never going to get over this, are you?”
“No.” It was an easy question to answer. “I…can’t.”
“Hiroto would’ve wanted you to move on,” the blonde continued. “He would’ve wanted you to-“
“To what?” Tora snapped. “To find someone else? To go on with my life and love again?”
Shou looked more than hurt at the words, but Tora ignored them. “Eventually, yes. Right now I was going to say he would’ve wanted you to stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault Tora. You didn’t kill him.”
“I wasn’t there to protect him either.”
And that was the problem. Tora hadn’t been there. He’d allowed Hiroto to leave the apartment after a perfect morning and go to his death. Somewhere deep down he knew Shou was right. There was no way he could’ve known what was to happen and therefore nothing he could’ve done, but it didn’t make him feel less guilty.
“Give me the bottle, Shou.”
“No,” he immediately answered and slammed his palm onto the outdoor table. “I’m not letting you destroy your life as well!”
The flamboyant man was close to crying as he challenged Tora’s ability to glare. He took the bottle and didn’t hesitate to smash it against the concrete floor. He got that Tora was hurting. That he wanted to just disappear and forget that Hiroto was gone. In all honesty, Shou wanted to do the same most days. But he kept going and he was not about to lose another friend.
“Stop blaming yourself, please!” He wiped the tears from his face as they began to fall despite his attempts to keep them back. “I understand that you’re hurting. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like, but I can see and understand that it’s bad. But please Tora, I don’t want to lose you too.”
Tora stared at the remnants of his bottle. He wanted to be upset over it, wanted to yell and scream at Shou for having crushed the only comfort he had left. But the way Shou opened up, the way he laid bare his raw emotions like that, got to him. Perhaps it was the fact that the blonde didn’t claim to know what he was going through that played the difference. He honestly didn’t know.
“I don’t know what to do, Shou.” Since he couldn’t have another drink he lit up another cigarette, ignoring the way his hands were shaking. “I can’t sleep in our bed. I can’t step into the shower. I can’t eat. I can’t face people. I can’t do anything because everything reminds me of him.”
In the years they’d known each other Shou had never heard Tora sound so small. The older had always been so strong, so confident in everything even when things went against him. Now he just sounded lost. Completely and utterly lost.
The blonde moved his chair around the table and placed an arm around the other’s shoulders. “You don’t have to fight alone, Tora. I know that Saga and I can never replace Hiroto. We would never try to do that, but I want you to know that you are not alone.”
He was crying once he said it, but it was a soft kind of crying. Tora nodded slowly at the words. He heard them, it was just hard to believe them. Saga and Shou would always be there for him physically, but in a way he was still alone. He would remain alone until he found someone to replace Hiroto and right now he was fairly certain that would never happen.
“Will you go take a shower if I promise to stay here the entire time?” Shou asked a while later.
Tora hesitated for a while. That shower still scared him, but eventually he agreed. It’d been too long since he had a shower and he knew he smelled. In many ways he was surprised Shou agreed to touch him at all. Once he slowly nodded his head it all happened so fast. The blonde dragged him inside the apartment and inside the bathroom. He remained seated on the toilet as Tora shakily removed his stinky clothes and stepped under the spray of water.
All he could see was Hiroto’s flushed face as he pushed him up against the wall. He heard the needy moans echoing against the tiles over the sound of the shower and he wanted to crumble all over again. But Shou reached out to him, verbally speaking, and more or less talked him through taking a simple shower. It gave Tora something to focus on other than the memories and for once he managed to wash his hair and body and get out of the shower without it taking half a day.
“Now,” Shou said as they’d found Tora some clothes in the bedroom. “We are going out to do some shopping and finding something to eat.”
“I’m not su-“ Tora began but was interrupted.
“It wasn’t a suggestion Tora. By the looks of it you’ve barely eaten since….that day and I know for a fact that you have hardly stepped outside the apartment. You need to get out, so I’m bringing you out.”
Tora wanted to protest, wanted to stay inside where things smelled like Hiroto and he could just forget about the world, but Shou had made up his mind and he didn’t have the energy to fight the flamboyant man. He knew, all too well, that Shou was only trying to help him move on. Perhaps the blonde needed it even more than Tora himself did. So he complied. He got dressed and he headed out, had dinner and bought groceries. Not because he wanted to, but because Shou needed him to be okay.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be okay for the sake of someone else.
- - -
Tora crushed the cigarette against the gravel. The graveyard lay empty as far as he could see but he didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad to be alone. This would be the first time he actually visited the grave since Hiroto was buried. He knew it would be tough. For all he knew, he might cry again and if that happened he didn’t want anyone around to see.
The grave looked good. Unlike him, Shou and Saga had visited it regularly, tending to it and putting flowers on it and so. Tora was grateful for it. He decided upon seeing it that from now on he would make sure to come see his deceased lover. It just felt like the right thing to do.
“Hey Pon.” He sat down on his haunches in front of the grave. “Sorry I haven’t come by earlier, I was a bit…lost for a while.”
To be honest Tora was still lost. Since Shou forced him to clean up and go out he’d tried to hold a somewhat normal daily routine. But it was hard when the most important part of his life was missing. He hated waking up alone, eating alone, and going to bed alone. Loneliness had never bothered him before. In fact, Tora had always been something of a lone wolf, but the past three years had changed him. Hiroto had changed him.
“I’m thinking of going back to work,” he admitted to the silent gravestone. “It’s been over a month and I fear they won’t want me back unless I return soon. But it feels weird. Everything feels weird without you.”
Talking to a dead person buried beneath a gravestone felt weird, but he was not about to think too hard on that one. Tora knew he needed something to hold on to and even in death Hiroto was that thing. He’d never realised just how much of his life had become focused around his lover, perhaps more than what was healthy. Not that he was about to complain. He wouldn’t change any of it if he had the chance.
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you right now.” He smirked slightly and shook his head. “You and I both know I never believed in an afterlife, but…”
Sighing Tora put down the flowers he’d brought. In a way it seemed silly. He’d hardly ever bought Hiroto flowers while he was alive. But it was what you did, right? You brought flowers and candles to a grave to prove that you cared about the person still. And Tora cared. He would always care.
“I’ll come back soon, Pon. I promise.” He stood back up and lit another cigarette. “There’s one more place I need to visit.”
He didn’t look forward to it, not at all, but it had to be done or Tora doubted he would ever be able to move on. Ghosting his fingers over the cold stone, as close to touching Hiroto as he would ever get again, he turned his back on the grave and walked out of the graveyard. It didn’t hurt as bad this time. Perhaps he’d just gotten used to the dull ache that constantly resided inside his chest.
Tora walked to the subway and took the train back home. But instead of getting off at his normal stop, he continued on a few stations more. When he got off he was almost physically sick. He didn’t want to do this, he really didn’t, but he knew he had to.
It was an alley like any other. Narrow, dirty, a dead end littered with the garbage of the city. The only reason Tora knew where it was, was because he’d asked the cops working Hiroto’s case. This was the place where Hiroto had been abused. Tora couldn’t help but to wonder what his lover had felt here, all alone as someone… He couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought.
Tora hesitantly stepped into the alley. Just being here made the ache in his chest worse. Someone had placed a picture of Hiroto amongst the shadows he saw. It was tattered by weather and wind by now, but the younger’s bright smile stile radiated off the photo. Tora briefly wondered who had been dedicated enough to do it. It wasn’t him, Shou, or Saga, so most likely it was one of Hiroto’s many friends. Some of them were rather…radical in their own ways.
Withered flowers and hand drawn cards were scattered around the memorial place and it tore at Tora’s heart. Hiroto had been such a popular guy. It only took minutes upon meeting him to really like him and with how social he was…had been, it wasn’t hard to understand why he’d had such a bit social network.
He didn’t try to talk to Hiroto at this place. If there really was an afterlife, which he doubted and hoped at the same time, then this was not where Hiroto would linger. Tora refused to think so. It would simply be too cruel. He just wanted to see the place. See the spot where he, in his heart, had failed Hiroto. His lover had not gone into this alley on his own, Tora was sure of it, and if he’d been there he would’ve done anything to prevent it. He would’ve fought to the death before allowing anyone to hurt his lover.
A stray tear threatened to spill from his eye but he wiped it away. There was no point in crying anymore. It didn’t even ease the ache in his chest of the guilt in his heart. Hiroto was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. They didn’t even know who had done it. Perhaps that was what hurt the most about the investigation, that nearly six weeks later the police still knew nothing about why Hiroto had been attacked or who had done it.
Tora finished his cigarette and flicked it out towards the street. He would not add to the filth littering the place. With a final glance at the soiled photo, and a final stab of pain to his heart, Tora turned his back on the alley and walked back home.
- - -
Work was a distraction at best. Tora had called his boss the day after his visit to Hiroto’s grave and asked to come back. He was more than welcome, the upside of being good at what you did. The first day he’d been worried about comments from Aoki and his like. Hiroto’s abuse had been smeared all over the news; Successful photographer killed, Beaten to death - a hate crime?, Young photographer attacked and killed. The papers were still spread out on his work desk back home. Tora hated them but could not bring himself to throw them away at the same time.
To his surprise, no one had said a thing about it. A few pats on the shoulder, some words of sympathy, otherwise nothing. Most people seemed to avoid him altogether and he was fine by that. He’d never socialised much at work to begin with and was not out to change that behaviour now. What Tora wanted more than anything was to be left alone.
The only people he met were Shou and Saga and then only because the two showed up at his doorstep every so often. They’d drag him out for dinner, forcefully invite themselves in, or demand he came over to their place. Tora put up with it since he knew they meant well. But every time Shou smiled at his lover or Saga brushed a hand over Shou’s back in passing Tora saw what he was missing. He was not a very affectionate person in and of himself, but Hiroto had been and he had brought it out in the elder. Fleeting touches, little pecks, a quick hug - he missed it more than he cared to admit.
Even now, at work, he missed the other’s presence. He kept checking his phone to see if someone, Hiroto, had sent him a text and out of habit he looked around when stepping out of the bank at lunch. There was no one beaming happily at him anymore, only strangers averting their gaze from his grieving eyes. On a crowded street he managed to feel alone because no one was waiting for him specifically.
There were times when he contemplated moving. Out of the apartment he still considered theirs, out of the city, away from it all. But then he would visit the grave, or the alley, and he would realise that this was where he belonged. Here, where Hiroto’s spirit still lingered in the places he had loved and his smell could yet be found in the couch cushions. Where he could meet Hiroto’s friends and share a memory or two and where his own friends gave as much comfort as they could.
He kept his promise too. Several times a week, Tora would go back to the grave and just sit there. Sometimes he spoke to Hiroto, other times he just smoked a few cigarettes and made sure the candles were lit. Perhaps it was masochistic behaviour, but he found comfort in knowing what was left of his lover was as close as it could be.
More rarely he went back to the alley as well. He didn’t even know why himself. He just…wanted to see it. Torment himself with images and visions of what Hiroto must’ve felt and thought. Had he blamed Tora the way Tora blamed himself? No, Tora knew he hadn’t. If anything Hiroto would’ve-
“It’s you, isn’t it?”
Tora spun around at the unknown voice. There was a man standing in the opening of the alleyway. He was tall for a Japanese man, though not as tall as Tora, with muscles flexing in his exposed arms. Tora estimated he was around Hiroto’s age, probably a year or two younger. An overgrown street kid. A punk with more attitude than what was good for him.
“Do I know you?” he asked and finished lighting his cigarette.
“What was it he said?” the kid mused seemingly to himself. “Tora, was that it?”
Tora tensed and shifted his footing. There was an evil glare in the kid’s eyes and his smirk was mocking in a way the older could not pinpoint. He didn’t like him. Everything about this guy spoke of bad intentions.
“What do you want kid?” he asked. “Run back to whatever hole you came from.”
The young man chuckled and boldly brushed past Tora on his way into the alley. He walked over to the picture of Hiroto, now fallen down onto the ground and trampled upon by unknown feet, and gazed down at it in disgust. Something itched inside Tora at the sight but he tried to ignore it by taking deep drags on his cigarette. He should get out of here, he knew he should. But somehow it felt wrong to leave this man alone at this place. It was illogical and unexplainable, still Tora stayed. He’d learnt to trust his gut a long time ago.
“’Tora’ he cried,” the kid said mockingly. “Well whispered at least, wasn’t much strength left in him to cry out by then.”
The itch got stronger and identified itself as realisation. A realisation Tora had sought and didn’t want all at once. This kid... was he the one? Had he....?
“You should’ve seen him!” Turning around the punk was actually laughing Tora in the face. “He looked so pathetic! All crawled in on himself, crying and whimpering like the little fag he was. Didn’t even try to fight back. It was amusing really. All he did was lay there whispering nonsense about home and ‘Tora’ and-“
Something inside Tora snapped. That dangerous tinge he’d carried around all his life, suppressed all his life, broke lose and overtook his entire being. The cigarette fell from his lips and didn’t even hit the ground before Tora’s fist connected to the street kid’s mouth. He cried out but Tora didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear or see anything beyond the blinding rage surging through his veins. That and the fact that something akin to fear ghosted over the kid’s face as he was tackled to the ground. It made Tora smirk and his eyes flare with malice.
Revenge.
He didn’t stop until uniform clad arms pulled him back. It wasn’t until three police men forced him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back that the fury drained away enough for Tora to see and realise what he’d done. The kid was a bloody pulp of the ground, face beaten beyond recognition and eyes staring openly at the dirty brick wall. He felt a sense of calm he’d lacked for weeks come over him and didn’t try to resist the officers.
One of them bent down over the body, checked for a pulse and shook his head.
“He’s gone.”
Tora breathed a sigh of relief as he was lead over to the police car and willingly stepped inside it.
Chapter 07
Chapters: 06/07
Author: invisiblehabits
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Malexmale sex, abuse, character death, violence, murder, fluff
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto, Saga/Shou
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t know. Won’t make money, unless you feel like paying me to read.
Summary: “I can’t sleep in our bed. I can’t step into the shower. I can’t eat, I can’t face people, I can’t do anything because everything reminds me of him.”
Comments: I am dreadfully sorry this chapter took me forever and a decade to complete and publish. Real life struck big time, that’s all I can say. Forgive me and please enjoy now, finally - chapter six!
- - -
Two weeks had passed since Hiroto’s funeral and Tora had gone back home to his own apartment. Saga set the breakfast table for two and sighed. He worried about both of them - Tora and Shou. Hiroto’s death had been a shock to him as well, but Saga knew the other two were worse off. Shou had known Hiroto since childhood, had supported the younger as he came out as gay, and shared a deep friendship with him. And Tora… Saga couldn’t even imagine what Tora was going through. The thought of losing Shou in a way similar to how Tora had lost Hiroto was a nightmare, but Saga knew it didn’t compare to what Tora was going through.
He didn’t pour the coffee just yet. Instead, he went back to the bathroom and found Shou staring at himself in the mirror. The only thing that gave the other man away were his eyes. Shou’s eyes were always sparkling with joy and laughter, but now they were just…dull. Dull with grief.
“Come on, baby,” Saga beckoned. “Breakfast is ready.”
Shou smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
They returned to the kitchen and Shou took a seat while Saga finally poured the coffee. There wasn’t much difference between this morning and the mornings a few weeks back. Life went on. They ate, they slept, they went to work, and they got home. Saga had only taken two days off after the surprising death whereas Shou had waited till the funeral was over before returning to his own job. Luckily, his boss had not protested the request of a short leave.
But their lives had gone back to normal. Or as normal as it could be at the moment.
“I figured I should drop by Tora’s place after work,” Shou said after a short silence. “He’s not doing well…”
“No,” Saga agreed. “Hiroto really was everything to him.”
Shou nodded and quickly dried a tear from the corner of his eye before it could fall and smear his makeup. At first he’d been crying hysterically nonstop, always one to show his emotions openly. But eventually he’d realised that he had to move on - that Hiroto would’ve wanted him to move on.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone.” At least it was easier to talk about it now. “I keep thinking that he’s going to show up any minute.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I only knew him for a few years and I really miss him, I can only imagine what it’s like for you and Tora.”
“Worse for Tora than for me, no doubt.” Shou didn’t hesitate to utter those words. “I still have you to come home to; to seek comfort and support in. Tora has….nothing.”
They finished breakfast in silence. It was nice just to hear the other’s coffee cup clanking against the table or the ruffle of his clothes as he reached for another piece of bread. Such ordinary things. Things you took for granted. Things, they both realised, Tora no longer had.
“Did you know his parents called the day after the funeral?” Saga asked as they were cleaning the table.
“Tora’s?!” Shou’s already large eyes grew positively huge and there was a clear strike of worry in them as he looked at his boyfriend. “What did they want?”
Tora had told Saga the story about his parents himself. Of how they refused to accept that he was gay and for a long time tried to convince him to take therapy and see doctors about it. To them, homosexuality was a disease and they desperately wanted their son to search for a cure. When he got his first real boyfriend in college they had more or less cut him off entirely. Shou did not like the sound of them having called Tora that close to the funeral.
“Yeah, Tora was absolutely livid about the call too,” Saga went on. “Apparently his mother called to ask if he was willing to quit the nonsense and get help now.”
Shou’s knees gave out underneath him and it was by pure luck alone he landed on one of the kitchen stools. What must Tora have felt in that moment? He’d just buried his lover, the man Shou was certain Tora had hoped to spend the rest of his life with, and his own mother asked him such a thing. It was unbelievable. In fact, Shou doubted he would’ve believed the statement if he hadn’t been unfortunate enough to meet Tora’s parents at one point. Needless to say their homophobia clashed rather violently with his own flamboyant nature.
“I swear to god I’ll slap that woman senseless if I ever see her again,” Shou mumbled and slowly stood up again. “And I’ll definitely go see Tora after work today - see how he’s doing.”
“You should,” Saga nodded and headed for the hallway. “Give him my best, okay?”
“Of course,” Shou promised.
They got dressed and walked together to the subway station. Once there they had to take different trains however. Shou threw his arms around Saga’s neck and hugged the shorter man hard.
“Be careful today, please?” he said. Ever since Hiroto’s death he’d been terrified the same thing would happen to Saga.
“I will. I promise.” It was the constant reply from Saga. “You look after yourself too.”
They both knew that Shou was at more risk than Saga. Shou was the obvious one but Saga was proud of him for not having changed the fact even in the face of what had happened. They kissed in the open, not caring if people saw, and then began elbowing their way to their separate trains. Shou turned around just as the doors to Saga’s train were closing and waved. Saga saw him and waved back. With a slight smile that actually reached his eyes, Shou turned around and entered his own train.
- - -
Tora had thought the first days after Hiroto’s death would be the worst. They had been awful, no question. Every morning when he woke up there was a brief, brief moment when he didn’t remember what had happened and expected to find the other next to him in bed. Then reality hit. He realized he was lying on a couch, not in a bed, and all he could see was Hiroto’s mangled face where he’d lain on the hospital bed. It didn’t matter how many times it happened, each morning was equally painful.
Shou and Saga had been a great support. They really had been. But eventually Tora knew he couldn’t intrude on them anymore. They had their own grieving to do and they kept it back for his sake. He thanked them for their kindness and moved back to his and Hiroto’s apartment. Only it wasn’t his and Hiroto’s anymore. It was only his.
And things only got worse from there on.
Everything in there reminded him of his lover. The small frame that truly had been his everything. Hiroto’s photos decorated the walls, his CDs and DVDs littered the place, his clothes were still strewn carelessly over the apartment. But the worst thing was that everything in there smelled like him. The entire apartment smelled like Hiroto. It had been Tora’s favourite scent ever since he first filled his nostrils with it, but now it had turned into a curse.
He didn’t dare sleep in the bed for fear of overpowering that scent with his own. Not to mention that bed reminded him of way too many happy times that would never come again. The first time Tora realised he’d never wake up next to Hiroto again was the last time he tried to sleep in there. All he could think of was how the younger man had jumped him that morning. How Hiroto had straddled him with his cold wet thighs and ensured him he had time for some fun before leaving. It had been such a perfect morning…
Tora shook his head to try and get rid of the images -futile attempts, but he needed to try- and emptied the drink in his hand. Whiskey. The bottle was on the table before him and judging by the remaining content Tora was quite drunk. He knew he drank too much, but it was the only way to relieve the pain. He drank to dull his mind and smoked continuously to keep himself occupied. But only ever out on the balcony, which was where he spent most of his time. Cigarette smoke clung to walls and fabrics and removed any previous smells, something he could not have happening to the apartment. The smell was the only thing he had left of Hiroto and as much as he hated it he still needed it.
What he also needed was a shower. Another thing he couldn’t bring himself to do, step into the shower. That was where he’d touched Hiroto -held him and loved him- hours before he died. The few times he’d forced himself to actually step under the spray because the stench surrounding him got too bad he’d ended up spending hours curled in on himself on the floor and crying till the water ran cold.
The doorbell sounded throughout the apartment again. Someone had been at the door for about fifteen minutes but Tora ignored them. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone today. Besides, he was fairly certain it was Shou or Saga at the door and they had a key to let themselves in if necessary. Another one of Hiroto’s suggested precautions; let someone they trusted hold a key to their apartment if anything ever happened to the two of them. Why was it that everything, absolutely everything, reminded him of Hiroto?
He knocked back another glass of whiskey as a key sounded in the door. For a second his heart fluttered, hoping against hope that it was Hiroto returning home. Tora hated his body and mind for its inability to accept that the younger was gone -dead- because it was he who had to deal with the pain each and every time.
“Tora?” Shou’s voice. “Tora! Are you home, Tora?”
Tora knew he should answer the call and that it would be the polite things to do and whatnot, but he couldn’t be bothered. He figured Shou would find him sooner or later. Probably sooner, if he knew Shou right, the man would not stop looking until he’d found him. And it wouldn’t be very hard to find him once you went searching through the apartment.
True enough, minutes later the balcony door opened and the chair next to Tora’s -Hiroto’s chair- was pulled out to allow Shou to sit down. It didn’t upset him. He wasn’t petty enough to be upset by such a thing. It was just that he didn’t want company. Not unless the company was raised from the dead.
“Did you drink all that today?” Shou asked and gestured for the liquor bottle.
“Since noon,” he replied and reached for it to refill his glass once more.
Shou grabbed it and moved it out of his range. “I think you’ve had more than enough, Tora.”
The brunette snorted. He was drunk and he would not deny that fact, but he didn’t see the point in changing that. There was no one waiting for him, nowhere he needed to be. He was on leave from work. His boss had told him to take the time he needed which had surprised Tora quite a bit. Not that he was about to complain. Going back to work was about the last thing he wanted to do right now. He was not fit to take on the responsibility it meant to handle other people’s money right now. Not to mention, the bank was where his and Hiroto’s relationship had really begun.
“Give me the bottle, Shou.” There was something dark and slightly dangerous to Tora’s voice as he spoke. Commanded. “I need that drink.”
“What you need,” Shou said and wrinkled his nose. “Is a shower and some clean clothes. Honestly Tora, when was the last time you stepped outside the apartment?”
He didn’t respond to that and Shou didn’t press. They both knew the older hardly ever stepped outside anymore. He’d go out every now and then to get groceries, most of which were left uneaten, and more alcohol. The latter he drank. In too large amounts. A fact that had already been stated.
Shou sighed. Somehow it sounded defeated. “You are never going to get over this, are you?”
“No.” It was an easy question to answer. “I…can’t.”
“Hiroto would’ve wanted you to move on,” the blonde continued. “He would’ve wanted you to-“
“To what?” Tora snapped. “To find someone else? To go on with my life and love again?”
Shou looked more than hurt at the words, but Tora ignored them. “Eventually, yes. Right now I was going to say he would’ve wanted you to stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault Tora. You didn’t kill him.”
“I wasn’t there to protect him either.”
And that was the problem. Tora hadn’t been there. He’d allowed Hiroto to leave the apartment after a perfect morning and go to his death. Somewhere deep down he knew Shou was right. There was no way he could’ve known what was to happen and therefore nothing he could’ve done, but it didn’t make him feel less guilty.
“Give me the bottle, Shou.”
“No,” he immediately answered and slammed his palm onto the outdoor table. “I’m not letting you destroy your life as well!”
The flamboyant man was close to crying as he challenged Tora’s ability to glare. He took the bottle and didn’t hesitate to smash it against the concrete floor. He got that Tora was hurting. That he wanted to just disappear and forget that Hiroto was gone. In all honesty, Shou wanted to do the same most days. But he kept going and he was not about to lose another friend.
“Stop blaming yourself, please!” He wiped the tears from his face as they began to fall despite his attempts to keep them back. “I understand that you’re hurting. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like, but I can see and understand that it’s bad. But please Tora, I don’t want to lose you too.”
Tora stared at the remnants of his bottle. He wanted to be upset over it, wanted to yell and scream at Shou for having crushed the only comfort he had left. But the way Shou opened up, the way he laid bare his raw emotions like that, got to him. Perhaps it was the fact that the blonde didn’t claim to know what he was going through that played the difference. He honestly didn’t know.
“I don’t know what to do, Shou.” Since he couldn’t have another drink he lit up another cigarette, ignoring the way his hands were shaking. “I can’t sleep in our bed. I can’t step into the shower. I can’t eat. I can’t face people. I can’t do anything because everything reminds me of him.”
In the years they’d known each other Shou had never heard Tora sound so small. The older had always been so strong, so confident in everything even when things went against him. Now he just sounded lost. Completely and utterly lost.
The blonde moved his chair around the table and placed an arm around the other’s shoulders. “You don’t have to fight alone, Tora. I know that Saga and I can never replace Hiroto. We would never try to do that, but I want you to know that you are not alone.”
He was crying once he said it, but it was a soft kind of crying. Tora nodded slowly at the words. He heard them, it was just hard to believe them. Saga and Shou would always be there for him physically, but in a way he was still alone. He would remain alone until he found someone to replace Hiroto and right now he was fairly certain that would never happen.
“Will you go take a shower if I promise to stay here the entire time?” Shou asked a while later.
Tora hesitated for a while. That shower still scared him, but eventually he agreed. It’d been too long since he had a shower and he knew he smelled. In many ways he was surprised Shou agreed to touch him at all. Once he slowly nodded his head it all happened so fast. The blonde dragged him inside the apartment and inside the bathroom. He remained seated on the toilet as Tora shakily removed his stinky clothes and stepped under the spray of water.
All he could see was Hiroto’s flushed face as he pushed him up against the wall. He heard the needy moans echoing against the tiles over the sound of the shower and he wanted to crumble all over again. But Shou reached out to him, verbally speaking, and more or less talked him through taking a simple shower. It gave Tora something to focus on other than the memories and for once he managed to wash his hair and body and get out of the shower without it taking half a day.
“Now,” Shou said as they’d found Tora some clothes in the bedroom. “We are going out to do some shopping and finding something to eat.”
“I’m not su-“ Tora began but was interrupted.
“It wasn’t a suggestion Tora. By the looks of it you’ve barely eaten since….that day and I know for a fact that you have hardly stepped outside the apartment. You need to get out, so I’m bringing you out.”
Tora wanted to protest, wanted to stay inside where things smelled like Hiroto and he could just forget about the world, but Shou had made up his mind and he didn’t have the energy to fight the flamboyant man. He knew, all too well, that Shou was only trying to help him move on. Perhaps the blonde needed it even more than Tora himself did. So he complied. He got dressed and he headed out, had dinner and bought groceries. Not because he wanted to, but because Shou needed him to be okay.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be okay for the sake of someone else.
- - -
Tora crushed the cigarette against the gravel. The graveyard lay empty as far as he could see but he didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad to be alone. This would be the first time he actually visited the grave since Hiroto was buried. He knew it would be tough. For all he knew, he might cry again and if that happened he didn’t want anyone around to see.
The grave looked good. Unlike him, Shou and Saga had visited it regularly, tending to it and putting flowers on it and so. Tora was grateful for it. He decided upon seeing it that from now on he would make sure to come see his deceased lover. It just felt like the right thing to do.
“Hey Pon.” He sat down on his haunches in front of the grave. “Sorry I haven’t come by earlier, I was a bit…lost for a while.”
To be honest Tora was still lost. Since Shou forced him to clean up and go out he’d tried to hold a somewhat normal daily routine. But it was hard when the most important part of his life was missing. He hated waking up alone, eating alone, and going to bed alone. Loneliness had never bothered him before. In fact, Tora had always been something of a lone wolf, but the past three years had changed him. Hiroto had changed him.
“I’m thinking of going back to work,” he admitted to the silent gravestone. “It’s been over a month and I fear they won’t want me back unless I return soon. But it feels weird. Everything feels weird without you.”
Talking to a dead person buried beneath a gravestone felt weird, but he was not about to think too hard on that one. Tora knew he needed something to hold on to and even in death Hiroto was that thing. He’d never realised just how much of his life had become focused around his lover, perhaps more than what was healthy. Not that he was about to complain. He wouldn’t change any of it if he had the chance.
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you right now.” He smirked slightly and shook his head. “You and I both know I never believed in an afterlife, but…”
Sighing Tora put down the flowers he’d brought. In a way it seemed silly. He’d hardly ever bought Hiroto flowers while he was alive. But it was what you did, right? You brought flowers and candles to a grave to prove that you cared about the person still. And Tora cared. He would always care.
“I’ll come back soon, Pon. I promise.” He stood back up and lit another cigarette. “There’s one more place I need to visit.”
He didn’t look forward to it, not at all, but it had to be done or Tora doubted he would ever be able to move on. Ghosting his fingers over the cold stone, as close to touching Hiroto as he would ever get again, he turned his back on the grave and walked out of the graveyard. It didn’t hurt as bad this time. Perhaps he’d just gotten used to the dull ache that constantly resided inside his chest.
Tora walked to the subway and took the train back home. But instead of getting off at his normal stop, he continued on a few stations more. When he got off he was almost physically sick. He didn’t want to do this, he really didn’t, but he knew he had to.
It was an alley like any other. Narrow, dirty, a dead end littered with the garbage of the city. The only reason Tora knew where it was, was because he’d asked the cops working Hiroto’s case. This was the place where Hiroto had been abused. Tora couldn’t help but to wonder what his lover had felt here, all alone as someone… He couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought.
Tora hesitantly stepped into the alley. Just being here made the ache in his chest worse. Someone had placed a picture of Hiroto amongst the shadows he saw. It was tattered by weather and wind by now, but the younger’s bright smile stile radiated off the photo. Tora briefly wondered who had been dedicated enough to do it. It wasn’t him, Shou, or Saga, so most likely it was one of Hiroto’s many friends. Some of them were rather…radical in their own ways.
Withered flowers and hand drawn cards were scattered around the memorial place and it tore at Tora’s heart. Hiroto had been such a popular guy. It only took minutes upon meeting him to really like him and with how social he was…had been, it wasn’t hard to understand why he’d had such a bit social network.
He didn’t try to talk to Hiroto at this place. If there really was an afterlife, which he doubted and hoped at the same time, then this was not where Hiroto would linger. Tora refused to think so. It would simply be too cruel. He just wanted to see the place. See the spot where he, in his heart, had failed Hiroto. His lover had not gone into this alley on his own, Tora was sure of it, and if he’d been there he would’ve done anything to prevent it. He would’ve fought to the death before allowing anyone to hurt his lover.
A stray tear threatened to spill from his eye but he wiped it away. There was no point in crying anymore. It didn’t even ease the ache in his chest of the guilt in his heart. Hiroto was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. They didn’t even know who had done it. Perhaps that was what hurt the most about the investigation, that nearly six weeks later the police still knew nothing about why Hiroto had been attacked or who had done it.
Tora finished his cigarette and flicked it out towards the street. He would not add to the filth littering the place. With a final glance at the soiled photo, and a final stab of pain to his heart, Tora turned his back on the alley and walked back home.
- - -
Work was a distraction at best. Tora had called his boss the day after his visit to Hiroto’s grave and asked to come back. He was more than welcome, the upside of being good at what you did. The first day he’d been worried about comments from Aoki and his like. Hiroto’s abuse had been smeared all over the news; Successful photographer killed, Beaten to death - a hate crime?, Young photographer attacked and killed. The papers were still spread out on his work desk back home. Tora hated them but could not bring himself to throw them away at the same time.
To his surprise, no one had said a thing about it. A few pats on the shoulder, some words of sympathy, otherwise nothing. Most people seemed to avoid him altogether and he was fine by that. He’d never socialised much at work to begin with and was not out to change that behaviour now. What Tora wanted more than anything was to be left alone.
The only people he met were Shou and Saga and then only because the two showed up at his doorstep every so often. They’d drag him out for dinner, forcefully invite themselves in, or demand he came over to their place. Tora put up with it since he knew they meant well. But every time Shou smiled at his lover or Saga brushed a hand over Shou’s back in passing Tora saw what he was missing. He was not a very affectionate person in and of himself, but Hiroto had been and he had brought it out in the elder. Fleeting touches, little pecks, a quick hug - he missed it more than he cared to admit.
Even now, at work, he missed the other’s presence. He kept checking his phone to see if someone, Hiroto, had sent him a text and out of habit he looked around when stepping out of the bank at lunch. There was no one beaming happily at him anymore, only strangers averting their gaze from his grieving eyes. On a crowded street he managed to feel alone because no one was waiting for him specifically.
There were times when he contemplated moving. Out of the apartment he still considered theirs, out of the city, away from it all. But then he would visit the grave, or the alley, and he would realise that this was where he belonged. Here, where Hiroto’s spirit still lingered in the places he had loved and his smell could yet be found in the couch cushions. Where he could meet Hiroto’s friends and share a memory or two and where his own friends gave as much comfort as they could.
He kept his promise too. Several times a week, Tora would go back to the grave and just sit there. Sometimes he spoke to Hiroto, other times he just smoked a few cigarettes and made sure the candles were lit. Perhaps it was masochistic behaviour, but he found comfort in knowing what was left of his lover was as close as it could be.
More rarely he went back to the alley as well. He didn’t even know why himself. He just…wanted to see it. Torment himself with images and visions of what Hiroto must’ve felt and thought. Had he blamed Tora the way Tora blamed himself? No, Tora knew he hadn’t. If anything Hiroto would’ve-
“It’s you, isn’t it?”
Tora spun around at the unknown voice. There was a man standing in the opening of the alleyway. He was tall for a Japanese man, though not as tall as Tora, with muscles flexing in his exposed arms. Tora estimated he was around Hiroto’s age, probably a year or two younger. An overgrown street kid. A punk with more attitude than what was good for him.
“Do I know you?” he asked and finished lighting his cigarette.
“What was it he said?” the kid mused seemingly to himself. “Tora, was that it?”
Tora tensed and shifted his footing. There was an evil glare in the kid’s eyes and his smirk was mocking in a way the older could not pinpoint. He didn’t like him. Everything about this guy spoke of bad intentions.
“What do you want kid?” he asked. “Run back to whatever hole you came from.”
The young man chuckled and boldly brushed past Tora on his way into the alley. He walked over to the picture of Hiroto, now fallen down onto the ground and trampled upon by unknown feet, and gazed down at it in disgust. Something itched inside Tora at the sight but he tried to ignore it by taking deep drags on his cigarette. He should get out of here, he knew he should. But somehow it felt wrong to leave this man alone at this place. It was illogical and unexplainable, still Tora stayed. He’d learnt to trust his gut a long time ago.
“’Tora’ he cried,” the kid said mockingly. “Well whispered at least, wasn’t much strength left in him to cry out by then.”
The itch got stronger and identified itself as realisation. A realisation Tora had sought and didn’t want all at once. This kid... was he the one? Had he....?
“You should’ve seen him!” Turning around the punk was actually laughing Tora in the face. “He looked so pathetic! All crawled in on himself, crying and whimpering like the little fag he was. Didn’t even try to fight back. It was amusing really. All he did was lay there whispering nonsense about home and ‘Tora’ and-“
Something inside Tora snapped. That dangerous tinge he’d carried around all his life, suppressed all his life, broke lose and overtook his entire being. The cigarette fell from his lips and didn’t even hit the ground before Tora’s fist connected to the street kid’s mouth. He cried out but Tora didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear or see anything beyond the blinding rage surging through his veins. That and the fact that something akin to fear ghosted over the kid’s face as he was tackled to the ground. It made Tora smirk and his eyes flare with malice.
Revenge.
He didn’t stop until uniform clad arms pulled him back. It wasn’t until three police men forced him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back that the fury drained away enough for Tora to see and realise what he’d done. The kid was a bloody pulp of the ground, face beaten beyond recognition and eyes staring openly at the dirty brick wall. He felt a sense of calm he’d lacked for weeks come over him and didn’t try to resist the officers.
One of them bent down over the body, checked for a pulse and shook his head.
“He’s gone.”
Tora breathed a sigh of relief as he was lead over to the police car and willingly stepped inside it.
Chapter 07