Savior (Chapter 9 part 1)
The clock played quarter past eleven softly into the small room.
The walls and floors were made of dark materials such as stained wood and mahogany wallpaper. The colour gave an old, traditional essence to the room, and it made a great contrast against the streets of Tokyo that could be seen through the large window at the right. It seemed like a large English office trapped inside Japanese society.
Shou could smell a strange mixture of incense as if they had been burned at the same time. He wasn’t sure if the smell fitted the sights in front of him, but at least it was slightly similar to the smells he would inhale around other people’s flats and houses. The light smoky scent pranced around the room; around the old weathered furniture, the arrangement of alien artefacts on the shelves and along the many pictures pinned up at the walls.
He had never expected Murai to live in such an experienced flat, in fact he had never expected Murai to live in a flat at all. He had followed his own senses to get to the flat, and as soon as he was outside of the tall, thin building he found himself being pulled inside the dark corridors by a hand that could only have belonged to Murai. The flat that he discovered was so different to other flats; cluttered with junk that had been collected over hundreds of years... it was obvious to Shou that it belonged to an Angel with a restless mind.
Murai walked in a circle until he was facing Shou, and once he was he clapped his hands and smiled.
“So you decided to come for help, did you?”
Shou let his eyes drop to the floor and he shuffled around nervously. Being surrounded by so much history made him feel uncomfortable and dizzy, but he had to forget everything around him and continue with his intentions.
“I don’t have much of a choice...” He muttered. “You’re the only person who understands my situation, even if I don’t quite agree with your methods.”
Murai smirked and span back around to his great room. He was acting like the king to a huge castle, but Shou couldn’t quite understand the importance of the flat. Being an Angel he knew everything about the world and having it all sat in front of him did nothing but make his brain itchy. Maybe he would think differently if he had lived through the years that each artefact was created.
“I knew you’d come through.” Murai cackled. “So you want to talk about Hiroto? You want to talk about how much he means to you? How much you’d give up for him?”
Shou stared in shock at Murai. He hadn’t thought very practically about Hiroto because he’d had enough trouble trying to work out his emotions. Having those questions threw at him so casually pushed Shou off track, but he managed to shake it off and continue with his own questioning.
“Could you please show me how to live as a human?” He asked. “I think that it would put Hiroto at ease and it means that I would be able to... live with him... and understand him better.”
Murai felt himself burn red hot. He could see the same passion in Shou’s eyes that he had once displayed too. The energy almost jumped from one man to the other, nearly causing Murai to jump in excitement and revert back to his carefree days with Kayo and the children. He pulled a face and repressed his memories; it was definitely not time to reminisce. He quickly took Shou’s hand before he let himself remember anything else.
“Come with me.” He ordered. Shou let himself get dragged towards a simple looking door in the back.
“What are we doing?” He asked nervously. Murai kicked the door open and threw Shou inside. The energy that Murai displayed frightened Shou, after all he had visited Murai in the trust that the other Angel would not harm him, but it was definitely a gamble. The new room could have been a trap, and considering the force that Murai used to chuck him in there, Shou had no regrets for thinking that Murai’s intentions could have been violent.
“Don’t worry.” Murai announced as if he had read Shou’s mind. “All I’m going to do is change your appearance; after all you’re going to have to look human to live amongst them.”
Shou frowned and flopped inside the room. It was full of cupboards, wardrobes and boxes. He felt like he had just ventured behind the scenes of an old antique shop into the storage room. It smelt like paint opposed to the natural smell in the front room so Murai must not have spent much time in it. But in a strange way there wasn’t much difference between rooms; they were both cluttered with belongings but set out in completely different ways.
The door shut and Murai stepped in front of Shou to get to the boxes. “You need clothing and ID and...”
“Wait.” Shou interrupted. “You mean I’ll be showing myself to... everyone?” Murai stared at him like he was crazy and pulled a quick but expressive face.
“Well yes. If you want to live like a human, and if you want to live like Hiroto, then you must!” He scrambled through a bulging cardboard box until he found a piece of fabric that he liked. Once he did he picked up the huge pile of folded clothes on top of it and pulled the chosen clothes from underneath. “I have things you can wear for now, but it’s just something to get you going. Take these and take these cards.” He handed them over and grabbed a wallet from the top of another box. “As you can see I’m prepared for any kind of appearance I want to make.”
Shou nodded slowly as the amount of clothing began to pile up in his arms. Murai seemed to be in his element; creating an identity for Shou so that he could live in a world that Murai had grown to love. In a way, it was beginning to amuse Shou, and the Angel that he once knew to be evil and deceitful was slowly becoming a gracious, hardworking man.
~*~
It had taken Hiroto half an hour to make his way down to the Apartments office. He’d sat in his almost empty room and contemplated how bad the meeting with his landlord would be. Maruyama would never change and neither would his intentions, so Hiroto knew that the moment he went into the office to pay his rent that Maruyama would put forward his offer again. Thankfully Hiroto had his rent money laid out in the palm of his hand, but handing over so much money in cash, especially when Maruyama knew that Hiroto had been fired, was quite suspicious indeed.
Eventually Hiroto gulped down his fear and stormed downstairs to pay his rent, after all Maruyama could only throw pointless words at him. Words had never hurt Hiroto before so why would he be scared?
Once he approached the office desk Maruyama walked through and smiled slyly at him. He pulled such a sleazy expression that Hiroto wondered whether he meant to pull it or whether his face had withered and drooped due to his filthy lifestyle. Despite how much Hiroto wanted Maruyama to be affected, there was hardly a scratch on him due to his revolting activities and everything that made him look shady was completely self inflicted; his clothing was of selected taste, his hairstyle resembled that of a gangster and he smelt strongly of alcohol.
“So it seems you have the rent money, do you?” Maruyama asked. Hiroto approached the desk and nodded quickly. Having to let go of so much money was quite hard for him, especially since Shou had brought it for him, but he managed to throw it onto the wooden surface in front of him.
“It’s all there.” Hiroto mumbled, “I won’t need any help from you.”
Maruyama raised his eyebrows and dragged the pile of notes towards him. As he counted the money he leant against the ratty old wall behind him and mumbled to the song that had started playing from the radio underneath his desk. Hiroto recognised the song but he found it quite painful to listen to; from that moment on the song would always be associated with the scum of Maruyama.
“I wonder.” Maruyama began. He held onto the money but let his hand drop down to his side as he stared up at the ceiling. “I wonder how you got hold of this money Ogata...”
Hiroto panicked and started fiddling with his thumbs. He was worried that Maruyama would suspect him of stealing, but he had hoped that he would be let off considering Maruyama’s own criminal record. The moment Maruyama looked back at Hiroto with devilish eyes he knew exactly what was about to be said: “I can’t accept stolen money, but you can definitely pay your rent a different way.”
“It’s not stolen money.” Hiroto snapped. “That is my money, and if you don’t accept it then you’re a fool.”
Suddenly Maruyama stormed around the desk and approached Hiroto. Hiroto immediately backed away towards the stairs and was already up one set before Maruyama had made his way to his earlier position. “What are you doing?!”
“How could I believe someone who’s so edgy?” Maruyama whined. There was a huge grin on his face which meant he was thoroughly enjoying winding Hiroto up, but even though Hiroto was taking the bait he didn’t want to get too deep into Maruyama’s game. He backed away even further so he was against the wall.
“I’m only edgy because you’re insane!” Hiroto snapped. “Your offers are disgusting, and even when I go to pay you, you won’t accept it! The only thing that matters to you is your sickening pleasures and I’m not going to get involved in them!”
“Everyone wants things, but whether you act upon that is your own decision.” Maruyama explained. He took one slow step up the flight of stairs and grinned at Hiroto’s sudden reaction to his movement. He’d flinched visibly that Maruyama noticed it from 4 meters away. “What I do isn’t as bad as you may think, you’ve just been taught to think that it’s wrong.” He took another sluggish step. “In that case, why don’t you think of it as a business deal? After all, what my associates and I do is almost like a business, and you never know, you might enjoy it.”
He cackled and coughed as if he’d not laughed in hundreds of years and finally made his way onto the landing that Hiroto was stood on. “It’s better than living on the streets. It’s better than slaving away every day to serve people who don’t give a damn.” Maruyama sneered. Hiroto glared, but not at him; he could hardly look at Maruyama so instead he chose to concentrate on the floor. He could understand the human need for pleasure in life, but what Hiroto had heard about Maruyama and his ‘friends’ didn’t seem like acceptable selfishness for satisfaction. Maruyama didn’t need to take all the drugs and alcohol that he used, he didn’t need to threaten others with his big gang of crooks, and he definitely didn’t need to blackmail and force innocent people into his way of life.
While Hiroto focused his attention away from Maruyama the older man made use of the moment and grabbed Hiroto’s shoulders, pushed him back against the wall sloppily and gasped over him with his alcohol tainted breath. Hiroto yelped as he hit the wall and tried to push Maruyama back, but he’d already taken hold of both his arms and pressed down on his feet - it were as if Maruyama had forced people in such a way many times before. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on; people would pay a shit-load for you.”
“Leave me alone!” Hiroto yelled. All he could see was Maruyama’s slack shirt being pulled down as he pressed against Hiroto’s body, and the weight being pressed down on him meant it was even harder to escape him. The hand holding his injured arm loosened and eventually made its way further down Hiroto’s body. Hiroto hit Maruyama as hard as he could with his fist but the arm wasn’t strong enough to push him away, and suddenly he felt a strong hold on his crotch.
“Stop shouting so much.” Maruyama moaned, “Just enjoy it, you want to really.”
Suddenly the pressure ceased, and so did the pressure on his whole body. Because he’d been pushing against Maruyama with all of his strength he found himself flying forward and almost face first into the floor. He stumbled across the landing and caught his balance, but in the corner of his eye he noticed Maruyama flying back at him uncontrollably. Hiroto fell down into the corner and watched Maruyama roll down the flight of stairs in front of him.
“Ogata!” A familiar voice shouted. Hiroto stared blankly at the tall, thin figure racing over to him. “Get up; we’re getting out of here!”
“What...?” Hiroto asked. He couldn’t make sense of what was going on; he felt like his brain had given up on understanding the world around him. A hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the stairs past a bruised and battered Maruyama. He was dragged out into the streets and almost all the way down the road before he was allowed to stop. The sounds of the city hurt Hiroto’s already vulnerable head; car horns, loud speakers, people chatting, people shouting, people screaming... suddenly he felt the urge to pass out on the concrete pavement. Even the smell was making him sick, but there was nowhere to go to get rid of it all.
He gasped for breath and hoped that a few deep breaths would help him get over his nausea. After a few more minutes of resting against a shop wall he decided to take a look at the man holding his wrist. It was Sakamoto, staring back at him in horror.
“W-who was that man?” Sakamoto asked angrily. “What the hell was he doing to you!?”
Hiroto panicked. How was he supposed to explain his situation to Sakamoto? The taller boy should have been nothing more than an acquaintance from school and suddenly he had invaded his life like a bulldozer through a brick wall. “I-it’s nothing I...”
“It’s not nothing!” Sakamoto cried. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Hiroto could spot fear shining in Sakamoto’s eyes in the form of tears. It frightened Hiroto that Sakamoto even had the capability to cry, and this revelation caused Hiroto to realise the sincerity of what had happened to him. Tears fell from his eyes at the same time as he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“Leave me alone Sakamoto.” Hiroto whimpered. He didn’t expect his voice to waver and break; he hadn’t expected to get so upset. Sakamoto stared at Hiroto with an expression similar to the last one, but this time he had been hurt.
“W-what?” Sakamoto stammered. He grabbed Hiroto and pulled him down a walkway that led to a small park. “Don’t go back there, you’re going to get into loads of trouble, you can go anywhere else just not there...” Hiroto pushed Sakamoto into the opposite wall with all his strength. A fire had suddenly ignited in his chest and even though he was confused he couldn’t manage to hold it in.
“Why do you care so much?!” Hiroto shouted, “What’s so bad about me getting in trouble?! It doesn’t involve you at all! What do you think you’re getting from this?! What are you gaining from helping me?! Nothing! Why the fuck do you bother?!”
“Just come to mine and I’ll...” Sakamoto tried to explain but was cut off quickly by Hiroto again.
“Are you stupid!? If I went to yours then Tora would be there, if I go to mine then Maruyama will be there, and after that there is nowhere else for me to go! You don’t understand anything! You don’t help me at all, in fact, you’re just a problem; you try and help me for no reason when I can’t be helped at all! That annoys me the most! Out of everything that’s ever happened you are the worst! Get out of here! I HATE you!”
He let go of Sakamoto and they stared at each other silently for a few seconds. Sakamoto could hardly get his head around Hiroto’s sudden outburst. All he could manage to blurt out were a few selfish words that he didn’t even want to say - he just didn’t want to look weak in front of Hiroto after being spat at so harshly.
“Fine.” He snapped. “You’re right. Why do I bother? You probably deserve what you get.”
He immediately span around and made his way towards the park. Hiroto was left in the empty walkway to cry as loud as he wanted, shout as loud as he wanted and run as fast as he wanted; Sakamoto had no plans of going back to him.
He slumped against the wall and held his head in his hands. It had hardly taken ten seconds for him to regret what he’d said.
~*~
.
The walls and floors were made of dark materials such as stained wood and mahogany wallpaper. The colour gave an old, traditional essence to the room, and it made a great contrast against the streets of Tokyo that could be seen through the large window at the right. It seemed like a large English office trapped inside Japanese society.
Shou could smell a strange mixture of incense as if they had been burned at the same time. He wasn’t sure if the smell fitted the sights in front of him, but at least it was slightly similar to the smells he would inhale around other people’s flats and houses. The light smoky scent pranced around the room; around the old weathered furniture, the arrangement of alien artefacts on the shelves and along the many pictures pinned up at the walls.
He had never expected Murai to live in such an experienced flat, in fact he had never expected Murai to live in a flat at all. He had followed his own senses to get to the flat, and as soon as he was outside of the tall, thin building he found himself being pulled inside the dark corridors by a hand that could only have belonged to Murai. The flat that he discovered was so different to other flats; cluttered with junk that had been collected over hundreds of years... it was obvious to Shou that it belonged to an Angel with a restless mind.
Murai walked in a circle until he was facing Shou, and once he was he clapped his hands and smiled.
“So you decided to come for help, did you?”
Shou let his eyes drop to the floor and he shuffled around nervously. Being surrounded by so much history made him feel uncomfortable and dizzy, but he had to forget everything around him and continue with his intentions.
“I don’t have much of a choice...” He muttered. “You’re the only person who understands my situation, even if I don’t quite agree with your methods.”
Murai smirked and span back around to his great room. He was acting like the king to a huge castle, but Shou couldn’t quite understand the importance of the flat. Being an Angel he knew everything about the world and having it all sat in front of him did nothing but make his brain itchy. Maybe he would think differently if he had lived through the years that each artefact was created.
“I knew you’d come through.” Murai cackled. “So you want to talk about Hiroto? You want to talk about how much he means to you? How much you’d give up for him?”
Shou stared in shock at Murai. He hadn’t thought very practically about Hiroto because he’d had enough trouble trying to work out his emotions. Having those questions threw at him so casually pushed Shou off track, but he managed to shake it off and continue with his own questioning.
“Could you please show me how to live as a human?” He asked. “I think that it would put Hiroto at ease and it means that I would be able to... live with him... and understand him better.”
Murai felt himself burn red hot. He could see the same passion in Shou’s eyes that he had once displayed too. The energy almost jumped from one man to the other, nearly causing Murai to jump in excitement and revert back to his carefree days with Kayo and the children. He pulled a face and repressed his memories; it was definitely not time to reminisce. He quickly took Shou’s hand before he let himself remember anything else.
“Come with me.” He ordered. Shou let himself get dragged towards a simple looking door in the back.
“What are we doing?” He asked nervously. Murai kicked the door open and threw Shou inside. The energy that Murai displayed frightened Shou, after all he had visited Murai in the trust that the other Angel would not harm him, but it was definitely a gamble. The new room could have been a trap, and considering the force that Murai used to chuck him in there, Shou had no regrets for thinking that Murai’s intentions could have been violent.
“Don’t worry.” Murai announced as if he had read Shou’s mind. “All I’m going to do is change your appearance; after all you’re going to have to look human to live amongst them.”
Shou frowned and flopped inside the room. It was full of cupboards, wardrobes and boxes. He felt like he had just ventured behind the scenes of an old antique shop into the storage room. It smelt like paint opposed to the natural smell in the front room so Murai must not have spent much time in it. But in a strange way there wasn’t much difference between rooms; they were both cluttered with belongings but set out in completely different ways.
The door shut and Murai stepped in front of Shou to get to the boxes. “You need clothing and ID and...”
“Wait.” Shou interrupted. “You mean I’ll be showing myself to... everyone?” Murai stared at him like he was crazy and pulled a quick but expressive face.
“Well yes. If you want to live like a human, and if you want to live like Hiroto, then you must!” He scrambled through a bulging cardboard box until he found a piece of fabric that he liked. Once he did he picked up the huge pile of folded clothes on top of it and pulled the chosen clothes from underneath. “I have things you can wear for now, but it’s just something to get you going. Take these and take these cards.” He handed them over and grabbed a wallet from the top of another box. “As you can see I’m prepared for any kind of appearance I want to make.”
Shou nodded slowly as the amount of clothing began to pile up in his arms. Murai seemed to be in his element; creating an identity for Shou so that he could live in a world that Murai had grown to love. In a way, it was beginning to amuse Shou, and the Angel that he once knew to be evil and deceitful was slowly becoming a gracious, hardworking man.
~*~
It had taken Hiroto half an hour to make his way down to the Apartments office. He’d sat in his almost empty room and contemplated how bad the meeting with his landlord would be. Maruyama would never change and neither would his intentions, so Hiroto knew that the moment he went into the office to pay his rent that Maruyama would put forward his offer again. Thankfully Hiroto had his rent money laid out in the palm of his hand, but handing over so much money in cash, especially when Maruyama knew that Hiroto had been fired, was quite suspicious indeed.
Eventually Hiroto gulped down his fear and stormed downstairs to pay his rent, after all Maruyama could only throw pointless words at him. Words had never hurt Hiroto before so why would he be scared?
Once he approached the office desk Maruyama walked through and smiled slyly at him. He pulled such a sleazy expression that Hiroto wondered whether he meant to pull it or whether his face had withered and drooped due to his filthy lifestyle. Despite how much Hiroto wanted Maruyama to be affected, there was hardly a scratch on him due to his revolting activities and everything that made him look shady was completely self inflicted; his clothing was of selected taste, his hairstyle resembled that of a gangster and he smelt strongly of alcohol.
“So it seems you have the rent money, do you?” Maruyama asked. Hiroto approached the desk and nodded quickly. Having to let go of so much money was quite hard for him, especially since Shou had brought it for him, but he managed to throw it onto the wooden surface in front of him.
“It’s all there.” Hiroto mumbled, “I won’t need any help from you.”
Maruyama raised his eyebrows and dragged the pile of notes towards him. As he counted the money he leant against the ratty old wall behind him and mumbled to the song that had started playing from the radio underneath his desk. Hiroto recognised the song but he found it quite painful to listen to; from that moment on the song would always be associated with the scum of Maruyama.
“I wonder.” Maruyama began. He held onto the money but let his hand drop down to his side as he stared up at the ceiling. “I wonder how you got hold of this money Ogata...”
Hiroto panicked and started fiddling with his thumbs. He was worried that Maruyama would suspect him of stealing, but he had hoped that he would be let off considering Maruyama’s own criminal record. The moment Maruyama looked back at Hiroto with devilish eyes he knew exactly what was about to be said: “I can’t accept stolen money, but you can definitely pay your rent a different way.”
“It’s not stolen money.” Hiroto snapped. “That is my money, and if you don’t accept it then you’re a fool.”
Suddenly Maruyama stormed around the desk and approached Hiroto. Hiroto immediately backed away towards the stairs and was already up one set before Maruyama had made his way to his earlier position. “What are you doing?!”
“How could I believe someone who’s so edgy?” Maruyama whined. There was a huge grin on his face which meant he was thoroughly enjoying winding Hiroto up, but even though Hiroto was taking the bait he didn’t want to get too deep into Maruyama’s game. He backed away even further so he was against the wall.
“I’m only edgy because you’re insane!” Hiroto snapped. “Your offers are disgusting, and even when I go to pay you, you won’t accept it! The only thing that matters to you is your sickening pleasures and I’m not going to get involved in them!”
“Everyone wants things, but whether you act upon that is your own decision.” Maruyama explained. He took one slow step up the flight of stairs and grinned at Hiroto’s sudden reaction to his movement. He’d flinched visibly that Maruyama noticed it from 4 meters away. “What I do isn’t as bad as you may think, you’ve just been taught to think that it’s wrong.” He took another sluggish step. “In that case, why don’t you think of it as a business deal? After all, what my associates and I do is almost like a business, and you never know, you might enjoy it.”
He cackled and coughed as if he’d not laughed in hundreds of years and finally made his way onto the landing that Hiroto was stood on. “It’s better than living on the streets. It’s better than slaving away every day to serve people who don’t give a damn.” Maruyama sneered. Hiroto glared, but not at him; he could hardly look at Maruyama so instead he chose to concentrate on the floor. He could understand the human need for pleasure in life, but what Hiroto had heard about Maruyama and his ‘friends’ didn’t seem like acceptable selfishness for satisfaction. Maruyama didn’t need to take all the drugs and alcohol that he used, he didn’t need to threaten others with his big gang of crooks, and he definitely didn’t need to blackmail and force innocent people into his way of life.
While Hiroto focused his attention away from Maruyama the older man made use of the moment and grabbed Hiroto’s shoulders, pushed him back against the wall sloppily and gasped over him with his alcohol tainted breath. Hiroto yelped as he hit the wall and tried to push Maruyama back, but he’d already taken hold of both his arms and pressed down on his feet - it were as if Maruyama had forced people in such a way many times before. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on; people would pay a shit-load for you.”
“Leave me alone!” Hiroto yelled. All he could see was Maruyama’s slack shirt being pulled down as he pressed against Hiroto’s body, and the weight being pressed down on him meant it was even harder to escape him. The hand holding his injured arm loosened and eventually made its way further down Hiroto’s body. Hiroto hit Maruyama as hard as he could with his fist but the arm wasn’t strong enough to push him away, and suddenly he felt a strong hold on his crotch.
“Stop shouting so much.” Maruyama moaned, “Just enjoy it, you want to really.”
Suddenly the pressure ceased, and so did the pressure on his whole body. Because he’d been pushing against Maruyama with all of his strength he found himself flying forward and almost face first into the floor. He stumbled across the landing and caught his balance, but in the corner of his eye he noticed Maruyama flying back at him uncontrollably. Hiroto fell down into the corner and watched Maruyama roll down the flight of stairs in front of him.
“Ogata!” A familiar voice shouted. Hiroto stared blankly at the tall, thin figure racing over to him. “Get up; we’re getting out of here!”
“What...?” Hiroto asked. He couldn’t make sense of what was going on; he felt like his brain had given up on understanding the world around him. A hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the stairs past a bruised and battered Maruyama. He was dragged out into the streets and almost all the way down the road before he was allowed to stop. The sounds of the city hurt Hiroto’s already vulnerable head; car horns, loud speakers, people chatting, people shouting, people screaming... suddenly he felt the urge to pass out on the concrete pavement. Even the smell was making him sick, but there was nowhere to go to get rid of it all.
He gasped for breath and hoped that a few deep breaths would help him get over his nausea. After a few more minutes of resting against a shop wall he decided to take a look at the man holding his wrist. It was Sakamoto, staring back at him in horror.
“W-who was that man?” Sakamoto asked angrily. “What the hell was he doing to you!?”
Hiroto panicked. How was he supposed to explain his situation to Sakamoto? The taller boy should have been nothing more than an acquaintance from school and suddenly he had invaded his life like a bulldozer through a brick wall. “I-it’s nothing I...”
“It’s not nothing!” Sakamoto cried. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Hiroto could spot fear shining in Sakamoto’s eyes in the form of tears. It frightened Hiroto that Sakamoto even had the capability to cry, and this revelation caused Hiroto to realise the sincerity of what had happened to him. Tears fell from his eyes at the same time as he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“Leave me alone Sakamoto.” Hiroto whimpered. He didn’t expect his voice to waver and break; he hadn’t expected to get so upset. Sakamoto stared at Hiroto with an expression similar to the last one, but this time he had been hurt.
“W-what?” Sakamoto stammered. He grabbed Hiroto and pulled him down a walkway that led to a small park. “Don’t go back there, you’re going to get into loads of trouble, you can go anywhere else just not there...” Hiroto pushed Sakamoto into the opposite wall with all his strength. A fire had suddenly ignited in his chest and even though he was confused he couldn’t manage to hold it in.
“Why do you care so much?!” Hiroto shouted, “What’s so bad about me getting in trouble?! It doesn’t involve you at all! What do you think you’re getting from this?! What are you gaining from helping me?! Nothing! Why the fuck do you bother?!”
“Just come to mine and I’ll...” Sakamoto tried to explain but was cut off quickly by Hiroto again.
“Are you stupid!? If I went to yours then Tora would be there, if I go to mine then Maruyama will be there, and after that there is nowhere else for me to go! You don’t understand anything! You don’t help me at all, in fact, you’re just a problem; you try and help me for no reason when I can’t be helped at all! That annoys me the most! Out of everything that’s ever happened you are the worst! Get out of here! I HATE you!”
He let go of Sakamoto and they stared at each other silently for a few seconds. Sakamoto could hardly get his head around Hiroto’s sudden outburst. All he could manage to blurt out were a few selfish words that he didn’t even want to say - he just didn’t want to look weak in front of Hiroto after being spat at so harshly.
“Fine.” He snapped. “You’re right. Why do I bother? You probably deserve what you get.”
He immediately span around and made his way towards the park. Hiroto was left in the empty walkway to cry as loud as he wanted, shout as loud as he wanted and run as fast as he wanted; Sakamoto had no plans of going back to him.
He slumped against the wall and held his head in his hands. It had hardly taken ten seconds for him to regret what he’d said.
~*~
.