FMLYHM Chapter 16
Title: FMLYHM
Band: The Gazette
Pairings: Aoi/Ruki; slight/future Uruha/Reita
Rating: R
Chapters: 16/??
Summary: Things begin to fall apart for The GazettE when changes in the members begin to tear everyone apart. Will the past destroy what they’ve built or can old wounds finally heal and new ones be stitched up?
Chapter Summary: The rain held many secrets. That's what his mother told him when he used to be afraid of storms. The rain held secrets and as it fell, it shared them. You just had to listen carefully. Rain only whispered.
Warnings: Past sexual/physical child abuse, mentions of rape, suicide, language, angst.
A/N: I take a long time to do things. :[ I’m very sorry. Please forgive me?
Thank you to everyone who has kept reading. You people are one of the only things I have going for me and I love love love you for it. <3
Thank you to porcelainorchid for editing it~~~<33333 I make a lot of mistakes and she fixes them for me! :D
Previous Chapters:
Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
The rain slapped against the windows, droplets sliding down to meld into one another, becoming larger and larger before vanishing down. Ruki sat in an arm chair and watched the water slip away. Three weeks was how long Reita had been in the hospital. Three weeks of wondering if they were any closer to helping him. He had called Dr. Yoshida earlier in the week but she said he showed no sign of progress. No progress. No moving forward. Stuck in the same place they'd all been for months. Afraid and stressed and sick. Things kept coming undone at the seams, kept unraveling string by string. Ruki pulled his knees up to his chest, bringing his mug up to his lips and letting the smell of coffee overtake his senses.
A hand slid over his neck, pressing just enough for Ruki to hum in approval, arching up against the press of fingertips.
"How long have you been up, love?" Aoi's voice was soft and thick with sleep.
"Long enough to watch the rain fall. There's coffee in the kitchen." Aoi slipped around the chair and squatted in front of him. He frowned just a little and laid his hands on Ruki's knees.
"You know... I don't necessarily understand everything going on with you... but I'm always here to listen if you need me." Ruki smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against the older man's.
"I know, Aoi... I'm sorry I’ve been so distant. This whole thing has kind of fucked with me."
"Don't be sorry." Aoi insisted, his eyebrows pulling together. "You have every reason to be a little off. I mean... shit, Ruki, I feel it too. I... I do miss him, you know. I feel like we haven't had him in a long time. Not just since he almost..." He stopped talking, his jaw clenching as he turned his away. Ruki set his coffee down and lightly cupped the older man's face.
"I know... he's been gone before he hurt himself, before he... before he hurt me. Before everything. I don't know where he went... but I miss him, too. It's been a long time..." Aoi nodded, pressing a kiss to Ruki's palm.
"Thinks just aren't right without all of us, you know? It's like... there's this tear in the fabric of the band. This tour was like pulling hard at the tear and ripping it to pieces. And we're still missing threads." Ruki shook his head, leaning down to wrap his arms around Aoi's shoulders.
"We have to get him back, Aoi. I don't know how, but we need him back. Not to mention what this is doing to Uruha. Aoi tugged the younger man closer, standing up and taking his place on the chair before pulling Ruki into his lap. He held their bodies close together, fingers running through the back of the vocalist's hair, Ruki's head against his shoulder.
They watched the rain fall. Drop after drop hitting the glass and sliding off into oblivion.
xXxXxXxXxXx
The rain held many secrets. That's what his mother told him when he used to be afraid of storms. The rain held secrets and as it fell, it shared them. You just had to listen carefully. Rain only whispered.
But that was when he was little. Akira was fourteen now and he wasn't afraid of storms anymore. Mostly, he just thought it was wet. With a sigh, he pulled his jacket tighter around his body. His mother would be upset if his shoes got ruined, so Akira carefully avoided the big, fun puddles Takanori was leaping into.
"Come on, 'Kira! It's way more fun than tiptoeing!" Akira pouted as Taka jumped and splashed Kouyou with water, causing him to shriek and shove Taka just a little.
"Can't. New shoes. My mom will kill me if I get them soaked. Plus, wet socks are gross." Taka shrugged and slowed down to walk beside him, soon followed by Kouyou.
"What are you going to do today?" Taka was kind of bouncing with every step he took, looking between Akira and Kouyou with a smile on his face. Kouyou smiled back, looking over at Akira. Akira watched his friends, watched the way water slid off Taka's hair, down his flushed cheeks, watched the way Kouyou's arms were wrapped around his middle because he only had a sweatshirt on. Suddenly, he felt very much like crying. He felt like crying and telling both of them everything. Telling them about the real reason why his lip was busted and his cheek bruised. Taka's smile fell a little, as if he could tell Akira's secrets, as if the rain were whispering them.
"’Kira... are you okay?" Kouyou's eyebrows knitted together, a frown pulling at his features.
"Are you getting sick?" Akira shook his head a little, forcing a smile.
"I'm fine. But I can't do anything today. Mom has a bunch of chores for me to do." They'd reached his house and Akira stopped walking at the end of his driveway. Takanori still didn't look satisfied, but he nodded.
"Maybe when you're all done? I'm going over to Kouyou's." Taka was always at Kouyou's because his dad got mean when he drank-- which was always-- and his parents didn't care much anyways. Akira sometimes wished his parents didn't care much so he could go hide, too. Or at least if they could care about the right things.
"I'll try to hurry and get done. Maybe we could play the new Mario game." Kouyou pulled him into a big hug-- he really liked hugs-- and held on just a moment longer than usual.
"We'll see you soon, then. Good luck with the chores!" Akira waved as his friends headed in the direction of Kouyou's house. He faced his own home and felt his stomach clench. It was never safe there. He wished so badly that he could just turn and run after his friends, wished he could go anywhere else in the world.
It wasn't even safe with his parents any more. His brother would just press his face against the pillows, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to scream. What he wanted, he got. Simple as that. Things got worse as days went on. His brother was getting stronger and more demanding. The purpling bruises all over his thighs were proof of his strength.
Akira sucked in a breath, pushing his wet hair away from his face. Sooner or later, he'd have to go in. It took all his courage, every ounce of strength he had left to take step after step until he was in the house. The walls heaved silence, water dripped from his clothes onto the floor, a puddle starting to form around his feet.
Ever since his parents pulled him from therapy, things had gotten harder. He'd liked his doctor. The man was old and smelled too strongly of cologne, but his smile was wide and he spoke in a soft voice that reminded Akira of his grandfather. And the doctor was going to help him. He'd talked to Akira about his brother. He'd promised he was going to get Akira away and Akira always felt safer with him. The doctor had talked to his parents, but they just got really mad and pulled him out and away from the safe place. After that, they looked at him differently, like there was something wrong with him. Maybe there was.
His brother got worse, too. Every spare opportunity was spent making Akira's life a living hell. The meetings with the doctor didn't do anything. Akira still wet the bed.
The floors creaked, Akira stiffened. He was very nearly positive he hadn't seen any cars in the driveway; he thought he was home alone until five when his mother came home from shopping with the neighbors. The floors creaked again. Akira considered turning and running back out into the rain. Running far away and not looking back. They could all run away together. Him and Kouyou and Taka. They'd run away, far away from all the hard things, all the hurt and the fear and the nightmares. Akira squeezed his eyes shut and wished it were that easy.
"Akira...?" Drunk. His brother was drunk. No surprise. He'd been drinking a lot lately. Akira slipped out of his shoes and his coat, taking time and care to put them in their place. Postponing the inevitable.
"Akira." The voice called again and he felt his throat tighten, his hands begin to shake. He heard the footsteps coming towards him, felt every muscle in his body tense as a shadow loomed over the hallway.
"Akira. You didn't answer when I called." He had a bottle precariously gripped between his fingers, his body leaning against the door frame. Akira swallowed dryly, straightening up and looking up into his brother's face.
"I-I... I didn't hear you. I'm sorry." His brother smirked, stumbling towards him.
"I think you're a liar." His large hand wrapped tightly around Akira's upper arm. The young boy winced as he was tugged forward, the force making his shoulder hurt and his feet stumble against the wet floor. His brother tugged him into the kitchen and all but threw him against the counter. Akira shivered, small hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly, eyes wide and fear seeping into his veins.
"You're a liar. A little fucking liar. And do you know what happens to liars, Akira?" His words slurred together, his steps echoed in the empty house. The young boy pulled instinctively away, turning his face away and shutting his eyes. Why wouldn't it just stop? Why had he been taken away from where it was safe? Why wouldn't his parents listen? His brother grabbed his face roughly in his hand. He pressed his face against Akira's throat and cheek and the young boy could smell the alcohol on his breath. It made his stomach give a nauseas lurch. He felt his brother's stubble against his jaw, bit down hard on his tongue to keep the sob in regardless of the tears. He had to keep quiet. It was worse when he wasn't. He tried to struggle but the older man's grip was too strong, his body too heavily pressed up against Akira's small frame.
"Liars..." His brother hissed, thumb pressing against the young boy's jaw. He pressed his forehead against Akira's, breathing right in his face as he spoke.
"Liars get punished. Liars must be punished.” Akira felt bile rise in his throat and had to choke it back as he was tossed to the side into the island. His mother's knife rack fell to the ground with a clatter that rang throughout the house. His brother pounced, tackling him to the ground as Akira attempted to crawl away, he cried out, sobbing now as tears slid down his cheeks.
"N-n-no! No! Stop! I didn't... I didn't do anything, please!" His brother didn't listen, ignored his cries as Akira's nails clawed at the floor. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take all the hurt and the fear. With all the strength he had, Akira brought his knee up against his brother's stomach. The older man choked and let up a bit. It was his only chance. He scrambled from beneath the larger body, skittering backwards before pushing himself upright and running.
He heard his brother following but didn’t slow. Front door was locked, no time to get it open but if he could get to the upstairs bathroom, he could slip out the window into the big tree and run to Kouyou's. He'd be safe there. He took the stairs two at a time, his feet hit the landing and he felt hope surge in his chest. This was it. He could do it.
A hand wrapped around his arm and pulled. Akira screamed as he hit the wall. No! Nonononono! He couldn't! He was so close. His brother breathed in his face, the laugh promised hurt as he hissed.
"You'll pay for that. You'll feel that later and remember." Something snapped. Akira felt it in his skin. Felt it along every nerve ending.
"No. I. Won't!"
Summer before last, Akira and Kouyou took Karate. Sensei told them only to use the moves in defense, to not hurt anyone for fun. He'd forgotten most of it, but knew he had to do something, anything. He pulled his arm back and threw all of his weight into a punch that landed squarely in his brother’s nose. The older man pulled back with a cry of pain and Akira could have run, but kept at it. He hit any part of his brother's body that came within range.
He wasn't thinking, he was just doing. All he could picture was his parent's faces every time a new bruise showed up, every time he couldn't get out of bed because it hurt too much. The way they had been looking the other way for years. He clenched his jaw and hit harder. He felt blood on his knuckles as he backed his brother up, tasted it in his mouth as the older man finally gained footing enough to hit back. Akira stumbled back against the wall, breathing hard. There was blood all over his brother's face, running down from his nose and lip. His teeth were bared and he panted.
"You little fuck. I'm going to kill you for this!" He was serious; Akira could hear it in his voice and feel it in the air. This is it. Everything ends tonight, one way or another.
It happened so fast, Akira could only react. His brother lunged, grabbed onto Akira's arm and yanked him away from the wall. Their bodies spun around and the young boy pushed with all his strength. They fell, bodies tumbling over each other. Akira's hands grappled for a hold as he felt his head hit the stairs. His thin fingers wrapped around the railing and he clutched on, fighting against gravity’s pull, against the sound of his brother's body against the stairs. He squeezes his eyes shut, prayed for it to stop, for it all to stop.
And then there was silence.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and pulled himself upright. His heart pounded, fingers white as they clung to the railing. He peered down towards the bottom of the stairs, towards his brother's prone body. He wasn’t moving. Akira held his breath as he inched towards the bottom. A labored gasp came from the body and he froze. His brother choked, blood sliding down his chin as he stared with wide, unfocused eyes at the ceiling, limbs laying skewed and his neck at a strange angle.
"Akira..." He sputtered teeth red with blood. "Akira... I-I can't move. Akira... you need to call an ambulance." Akira pulled himself to a stand. His brother's eyes found his own and there was a desperation there he'd never seen before. He realized that finally, finally he had the power.
"Akira, please... I need an ambulance. I... I can't move. Please, Akira, you need to hurry. It's... it's really hard to breathe." His brother coughed hard, blood sputtering over his face. Akira stared down at his brother, stared down at the man who'd taken everything away from him, the monster who plagued his dreams. His hand tightened around the railing, eyes locked on the older man's as he slowly shook his head. The man's eyes widened in understanding, mouth opening and closing a few times.
"No. No! Akira! Please! I'm... I'm going to-to die! I need help! You need to help me or else I'm going to die!" Step by step, Akira backed up the stairs. His brother's desperate voice, thick with blood, called his name but he ignored it. Slowly, he turned from the stairs, walked down the hallway and into his room. The door shut with a click behind him. The cries were muffled but he heard the sound. As he crawled under his bed and covered his ears, he wondered how much time passed before the screaming stopped.
xXxXxXxXxXx
It took Reita some time before he realized that it was his own voice screaming as he pressed himself into the corner. The room came into focus, the warm colors and dark wood. Dr. Yoshida's voice urging him to "Come back. Come back Akira." His throat was raw, he tasted blood against his tongue, felt a tingling in his cheeks and reached a finger up to feel. Four shallow gashes. Probably from his finger nails. There were little tuffs of hair between his fingers, his head hurt and the memory--oh, the memory-- still whispered a shudder along his spine.
"Akira... Akira are you with me now? Are you back?" He straightened himself up against the wall, sniffled and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
"Yes. I am." The doctor let out a little sigh of relief, squatting down beside him.
"You scared me there for a minute." She shook her head, took off and then replaced her glasses.
"Do you remember what just happened?" He pursed his lips, swallowing down the blood and bile.
"Hypnosis."
"That's right. I wanted to know more about your brother, but you said there was something missing. So you agreed to this tactic." She paused, head tilting a little.
"Do you remember what you saw?" His throat caught and he pulled his knees up closer.
"H-he was going to hurt me. He was going to hurt me so... s-so... I..." He felt bile rise in his throat again and pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. Dr. Yoshida laid a hand on his arm, voice soft.
"It's okay, Akira. You can say it." Flashes of that night ran across his mind, nails digging into his arms.
"I... I k-killed him. I killed my brother. He needed me and I ran away because I couldn't take what he was doing to me. I couldn't feel his hands on my body again, I couldn't feel his tongue in my mouth. I was terrified in my own home and my parents didn't give a fuck. I needed them and they left me for him. And when I tried to get away, he came after me and so I killed him. He screamed for me to help him and I let him scream. I let him scream like I had screamed for years. I let him scream until he suffocated on his own blood." There was a silence as anger gave way to guilt, his hands shaking as he pressed closer against the wall.
"A-and then... then I turned on Taka. I hurt him like he hurt me. Taka cried and begged like I had and I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I-I... I'm a monster." He gave in. Stumbling towards her desk, he emptied his stomach, wishing he could empty the guilt as well.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? What does that mean?" Uruha didn't know much about psychology or disorders or medical terms in general. Mostly, the words scared him and made him nervous. Dr. Yoshida folded her hands over her papers, her glasses sitting on the desk.
"It means Akira experienced something that was incredibly traumatic to him. As a child."
"If he was a child, then... what does that have to do with how he's acting now if it wasn't how he always was." The doctor shook her head, letting out a sigh.
"PTSD symptoms don't show themselves until weeks, months, or-- as in this case-- years after the event. For Akira, the trauma lasted years itself. There was... continued sexual abuse within his home." Uruha's stomach clenched painfully and he felt sick, light headed. The words were too much to digest but the doctor pressed forward.
"Usually I would not be sharing confidential patient information with you, but as Akira's parents have refused our phone calls he will be released into your care. You need to be prepared… you need to understand what’s happened to him in order to help him recover. He's going to need his friends for his rehabilitation."
"Was... was it his parents?" Uruha remembered being at Akira's house, remembered his mother's face as she brought them snacks, her voice as she hummed while fixing dinner. He remembered Akira's dad, his love for cars and cable tv and politics. He couldn't picture them doing something like that. The doctor shook her head, pressing her lips together.
"No. It was... it was his older brother. For years. The way Akira tells it, the notes from the previous doctors, medical records all indicate extremely violent, prolonged sexual abuse. He suffered broken bones, scaring, needed stitches a number of times, not to mention the psychological trauma that went untreated for his entire adolescence."
Uruha shook his head, cradling it in his hands. Seichi. Akira's unemployed, faded glory older brother. He'd been a star student, top of his class, soccer star, was dating the girl he planned to marry. He was a lot older than them, had already graduated high school before they were seven. Akira had talked about Seichi a lot. His brother was meant to go on to become either a professional soccer star or run his own business. But about halfway through his first year in college, things fell apart. His girlfriend cheated on him, he got wasted and was meant to play a game the next day. He wasn't in the right mindset and got injured during the game. Really busted up his knee and was on bed rest back home for a long time. He never did go back to college but definitely had a lasting relationship with alcohol until he died falling down the stairs. Had he been hurting Akira since he got home or had this been going on even before that?
"Why... why didn't his parents do anything? Didn't they realize something was wrong?" Uruha's own mother knew if something was wrong with him even all the way in Kanagawa. He could remember times Akira would seem on edge and irritated, brushing off concerns about black eyes or bruises or split lips. The one time Uruha and pushed for answers, Akira punched him in the nose and told him to mind his own goddamn business.
"His parents ignored it. The first time Akira came to a psychologist, it was because of behavioral problems. Acting out at school, fighting with other kids, unusually quiet and secluded at home. He had unexplainable bruises, lacerations. These were all signs of abuse and at first the doctor thought it might be the father, due to how cold he seemed about the whole thing. But Akira didn't seem to fear either of his parents. Upon further prompting, he spoke of a monster, a creature who was hurting him. A representation of his brother. The doctor had seen the brother only once, but noted Akira's sudden change in demeanor. He brought up his concern to the Suzuki's and they shut him down and immediately pulled Akira from his sessions. They refused to believe that their son would do that, even now they refuse to acknowledge it. It seems that after their eldest died, they never left much room in their lives for Akira."
Uruha fisted his hands in his lap, clenched his teeth together. He didn't know who he was angrier at; Seichi for doing something so evil, his parents for letting it happen or himself for not pushing harder for answers even if it meant getting a broken nose.
"I'll take care of him. I'll do whatever I have to. I'll help him anyway I can. I promise. I won't let him down."
A/N: Can you believe it's been almost three years since I started this? Holy shit. If this were a child, it'd be walking and potty trained by now. @____@ It blows my mind.
Thank you for everyone who has read this. None of this would be possible with out you and I read and appreciate and love every single review I get. It means the world to me. This is my passion and my baby and I'm so grateful for everyone who has watched it grow with me. <3
Band: The Gazette
Pairings: Aoi/Ruki; slight/future Uruha/Reita
Rating: R
Chapters: 16/??
Summary: Things begin to fall apart for The GazettE when changes in the members begin to tear everyone apart. Will the past destroy what they’ve built or can old wounds finally heal and new ones be stitched up?
Chapter Summary: The rain held many secrets. That's what his mother told him when he used to be afraid of storms. The rain held secrets and as it fell, it shared them. You just had to listen carefully. Rain only whispered.
Warnings: Past sexual/physical child abuse, mentions of rape, suicide, language, angst.
A/N: I take a long time to do things. :[ I’m very sorry. Please forgive me?
Thank you to everyone who has kept reading. You people are one of the only things I have going for me and I love love love you for it. <3
Thank you to porcelainorchid for editing it~~~<33333 I make a lot of mistakes and she fixes them for me! :D
Previous Chapters:
Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
The rain slapped against the windows, droplets sliding down to meld into one another, becoming larger and larger before vanishing down. Ruki sat in an arm chair and watched the water slip away. Three weeks was how long Reita had been in the hospital. Three weeks of wondering if they were any closer to helping him. He had called Dr. Yoshida earlier in the week but she said he showed no sign of progress. No progress. No moving forward. Stuck in the same place they'd all been for months. Afraid and stressed and sick. Things kept coming undone at the seams, kept unraveling string by string. Ruki pulled his knees up to his chest, bringing his mug up to his lips and letting the smell of coffee overtake his senses.
A hand slid over his neck, pressing just enough for Ruki to hum in approval, arching up against the press of fingertips.
"How long have you been up, love?" Aoi's voice was soft and thick with sleep.
"Long enough to watch the rain fall. There's coffee in the kitchen." Aoi slipped around the chair and squatted in front of him. He frowned just a little and laid his hands on Ruki's knees.
"You know... I don't necessarily understand everything going on with you... but I'm always here to listen if you need me." Ruki smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against the older man's.
"I know, Aoi... I'm sorry I’ve been so distant. This whole thing has kind of fucked with me."
"Don't be sorry." Aoi insisted, his eyebrows pulling together. "You have every reason to be a little off. I mean... shit, Ruki, I feel it too. I... I do miss him, you know. I feel like we haven't had him in a long time. Not just since he almost..." He stopped talking, his jaw clenching as he turned his away. Ruki set his coffee down and lightly cupped the older man's face.
"I know... he's been gone before he hurt himself, before he... before he hurt me. Before everything. I don't know where he went... but I miss him, too. It's been a long time..." Aoi nodded, pressing a kiss to Ruki's palm.
"Thinks just aren't right without all of us, you know? It's like... there's this tear in the fabric of the band. This tour was like pulling hard at the tear and ripping it to pieces. And we're still missing threads." Ruki shook his head, leaning down to wrap his arms around Aoi's shoulders.
"We have to get him back, Aoi. I don't know how, but we need him back. Not to mention what this is doing to Uruha. Aoi tugged the younger man closer, standing up and taking his place on the chair before pulling Ruki into his lap. He held their bodies close together, fingers running through the back of the vocalist's hair, Ruki's head against his shoulder.
They watched the rain fall. Drop after drop hitting the glass and sliding off into oblivion.
xXxXxXxXxXx
The rain held many secrets. That's what his mother told him when he used to be afraid of storms. The rain held secrets and as it fell, it shared them. You just had to listen carefully. Rain only whispered.
But that was when he was little. Akira was fourteen now and he wasn't afraid of storms anymore. Mostly, he just thought it was wet. With a sigh, he pulled his jacket tighter around his body. His mother would be upset if his shoes got ruined, so Akira carefully avoided the big, fun puddles Takanori was leaping into.
"Come on, 'Kira! It's way more fun than tiptoeing!" Akira pouted as Taka jumped and splashed Kouyou with water, causing him to shriek and shove Taka just a little.
"Can't. New shoes. My mom will kill me if I get them soaked. Plus, wet socks are gross." Taka shrugged and slowed down to walk beside him, soon followed by Kouyou.
"What are you going to do today?" Taka was kind of bouncing with every step he took, looking between Akira and Kouyou with a smile on his face. Kouyou smiled back, looking over at Akira. Akira watched his friends, watched the way water slid off Taka's hair, down his flushed cheeks, watched the way Kouyou's arms were wrapped around his middle because he only had a sweatshirt on. Suddenly, he felt very much like crying. He felt like crying and telling both of them everything. Telling them about the real reason why his lip was busted and his cheek bruised. Taka's smile fell a little, as if he could tell Akira's secrets, as if the rain were whispering them.
"’Kira... are you okay?" Kouyou's eyebrows knitted together, a frown pulling at his features.
"Are you getting sick?" Akira shook his head a little, forcing a smile.
"I'm fine. But I can't do anything today. Mom has a bunch of chores for me to do." They'd reached his house and Akira stopped walking at the end of his driveway. Takanori still didn't look satisfied, but he nodded.
"Maybe when you're all done? I'm going over to Kouyou's." Taka was always at Kouyou's because his dad got mean when he drank-- which was always-- and his parents didn't care much anyways. Akira sometimes wished his parents didn't care much so he could go hide, too. Or at least if they could care about the right things.
"I'll try to hurry and get done. Maybe we could play the new Mario game." Kouyou pulled him into a big hug-- he really liked hugs-- and held on just a moment longer than usual.
"We'll see you soon, then. Good luck with the chores!" Akira waved as his friends headed in the direction of Kouyou's house. He faced his own home and felt his stomach clench. It was never safe there. He wished so badly that he could just turn and run after his friends, wished he could go anywhere else in the world.
It wasn't even safe with his parents any more. His brother would just press his face against the pillows, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to scream. What he wanted, he got. Simple as that. Things got worse as days went on. His brother was getting stronger and more demanding. The purpling bruises all over his thighs were proof of his strength.
Akira sucked in a breath, pushing his wet hair away from his face. Sooner or later, he'd have to go in. It took all his courage, every ounce of strength he had left to take step after step until he was in the house. The walls heaved silence, water dripped from his clothes onto the floor, a puddle starting to form around his feet.
Ever since his parents pulled him from therapy, things had gotten harder. He'd liked his doctor. The man was old and smelled too strongly of cologne, but his smile was wide and he spoke in a soft voice that reminded Akira of his grandfather. And the doctor was going to help him. He'd talked to Akira about his brother. He'd promised he was going to get Akira away and Akira always felt safer with him. The doctor had talked to his parents, but they just got really mad and pulled him out and away from the safe place. After that, they looked at him differently, like there was something wrong with him. Maybe there was.
His brother got worse, too. Every spare opportunity was spent making Akira's life a living hell. The meetings with the doctor didn't do anything. Akira still wet the bed.
The floors creaked, Akira stiffened. He was very nearly positive he hadn't seen any cars in the driveway; he thought he was home alone until five when his mother came home from shopping with the neighbors. The floors creaked again. Akira considered turning and running back out into the rain. Running far away and not looking back. They could all run away together. Him and Kouyou and Taka. They'd run away, far away from all the hard things, all the hurt and the fear and the nightmares. Akira squeezed his eyes shut and wished it were that easy.
"Akira...?" Drunk. His brother was drunk. No surprise. He'd been drinking a lot lately. Akira slipped out of his shoes and his coat, taking time and care to put them in their place. Postponing the inevitable.
"Akira." The voice called again and he felt his throat tighten, his hands begin to shake. He heard the footsteps coming towards him, felt every muscle in his body tense as a shadow loomed over the hallway.
"Akira. You didn't answer when I called." He had a bottle precariously gripped between his fingers, his body leaning against the door frame. Akira swallowed dryly, straightening up and looking up into his brother's face.
"I-I... I didn't hear you. I'm sorry." His brother smirked, stumbling towards him.
"I think you're a liar." His large hand wrapped tightly around Akira's upper arm. The young boy winced as he was tugged forward, the force making his shoulder hurt and his feet stumble against the wet floor. His brother tugged him into the kitchen and all but threw him against the counter. Akira shivered, small hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly, eyes wide and fear seeping into his veins.
"You're a liar. A little fucking liar. And do you know what happens to liars, Akira?" His words slurred together, his steps echoed in the empty house. The young boy pulled instinctively away, turning his face away and shutting his eyes. Why wouldn't it just stop? Why had he been taken away from where it was safe? Why wouldn't his parents listen? His brother grabbed his face roughly in his hand. He pressed his face against Akira's throat and cheek and the young boy could smell the alcohol on his breath. It made his stomach give a nauseas lurch. He felt his brother's stubble against his jaw, bit down hard on his tongue to keep the sob in regardless of the tears. He had to keep quiet. It was worse when he wasn't. He tried to struggle but the older man's grip was too strong, his body too heavily pressed up against Akira's small frame.
"Liars..." His brother hissed, thumb pressing against the young boy's jaw. He pressed his forehead against Akira's, breathing right in his face as he spoke.
"Liars get punished. Liars must be punished.” Akira felt bile rise in his throat and had to choke it back as he was tossed to the side into the island. His mother's knife rack fell to the ground with a clatter that rang throughout the house. His brother pounced, tackling him to the ground as Akira attempted to crawl away, he cried out, sobbing now as tears slid down his cheeks.
"N-n-no! No! Stop! I didn't... I didn't do anything, please!" His brother didn't listen, ignored his cries as Akira's nails clawed at the floor. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take all the hurt and the fear. With all the strength he had, Akira brought his knee up against his brother's stomach. The older man choked and let up a bit. It was his only chance. He scrambled from beneath the larger body, skittering backwards before pushing himself upright and running.
He heard his brother following but didn’t slow. Front door was locked, no time to get it open but if he could get to the upstairs bathroom, he could slip out the window into the big tree and run to Kouyou's. He'd be safe there. He took the stairs two at a time, his feet hit the landing and he felt hope surge in his chest. This was it. He could do it.
A hand wrapped around his arm and pulled. Akira screamed as he hit the wall. No! Nonononono! He couldn't! He was so close. His brother breathed in his face, the laugh promised hurt as he hissed.
"You'll pay for that. You'll feel that later and remember." Something snapped. Akira felt it in his skin. Felt it along every nerve ending.
"No. I. Won't!"
Summer before last, Akira and Kouyou took Karate. Sensei told them only to use the moves in defense, to not hurt anyone for fun. He'd forgotten most of it, but knew he had to do something, anything. He pulled his arm back and threw all of his weight into a punch that landed squarely in his brother’s nose. The older man pulled back with a cry of pain and Akira could have run, but kept at it. He hit any part of his brother's body that came within range.
He wasn't thinking, he was just doing. All he could picture was his parent's faces every time a new bruise showed up, every time he couldn't get out of bed because it hurt too much. The way they had been looking the other way for years. He clenched his jaw and hit harder. He felt blood on his knuckles as he backed his brother up, tasted it in his mouth as the older man finally gained footing enough to hit back. Akira stumbled back against the wall, breathing hard. There was blood all over his brother's face, running down from his nose and lip. His teeth were bared and he panted.
"You little fuck. I'm going to kill you for this!" He was serious; Akira could hear it in his voice and feel it in the air. This is it. Everything ends tonight, one way or another.
It happened so fast, Akira could only react. His brother lunged, grabbed onto Akira's arm and yanked him away from the wall. Their bodies spun around and the young boy pushed with all his strength. They fell, bodies tumbling over each other. Akira's hands grappled for a hold as he felt his head hit the stairs. His thin fingers wrapped around the railing and he clutched on, fighting against gravity’s pull, against the sound of his brother's body against the stairs. He squeezes his eyes shut, prayed for it to stop, for it all to stop.
And then there was silence.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and pulled himself upright. His heart pounded, fingers white as they clung to the railing. He peered down towards the bottom of the stairs, towards his brother's prone body. He wasn’t moving. Akira held his breath as he inched towards the bottom. A labored gasp came from the body and he froze. His brother choked, blood sliding down his chin as he stared with wide, unfocused eyes at the ceiling, limbs laying skewed and his neck at a strange angle.
"Akira..." He sputtered teeth red with blood. "Akira... I-I can't move. Akira... you need to call an ambulance." Akira pulled himself to a stand. His brother's eyes found his own and there was a desperation there he'd never seen before. He realized that finally, finally he had the power.
"Akira, please... I need an ambulance. I... I can't move. Please, Akira, you need to hurry. It's... it's really hard to breathe." His brother coughed hard, blood sputtering over his face. Akira stared down at his brother, stared down at the man who'd taken everything away from him, the monster who plagued his dreams. His hand tightened around the railing, eyes locked on the older man's as he slowly shook his head. The man's eyes widened in understanding, mouth opening and closing a few times.
"No. No! Akira! Please! I'm... I'm going to-to die! I need help! You need to help me or else I'm going to die!" Step by step, Akira backed up the stairs. His brother's desperate voice, thick with blood, called his name but he ignored it. Slowly, he turned from the stairs, walked down the hallway and into his room. The door shut with a click behind him. The cries were muffled but he heard the sound. As he crawled under his bed and covered his ears, he wondered how much time passed before the screaming stopped.
xXxXxXxXxXx
It took Reita some time before he realized that it was his own voice screaming as he pressed himself into the corner. The room came into focus, the warm colors and dark wood. Dr. Yoshida's voice urging him to "Come back. Come back Akira." His throat was raw, he tasted blood against his tongue, felt a tingling in his cheeks and reached a finger up to feel. Four shallow gashes. Probably from his finger nails. There were little tuffs of hair between his fingers, his head hurt and the memory--oh, the memory-- still whispered a shudder along his spine.
"Akira... Akira are you with me now? Are you back?" He straightened himself up against the wall, sniffled and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
"Yes. I am." The doctor let out a little sigh of relief, squatting down beside him.
"You scared me there for a minute." She shook her head, took off and then replaced her glasses.
"Do you remember what just happened?" He pursed his lips, swallowing down the blood and bile.
"Hypnosis."
"That's right. I wanted to know more about your brother, but you said there was something missing. So you agreed to this tactic." She paused, head tilting a little.
"Do you remember what you saw?" His throat caught and he pulled his knees up closer.
"H-he was going to hurt me. He was going to hurt me so... s-so... I..." He felt bile rise in his throat again and pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. Dr. Yoshida laid a hand on his arm, voice soft.
"It's okay, Akira. You can say it." Flashes of that night ran across his mind, nails digging into his arms.
"I... I k-killed him. I killed my brother. He needed me and I ran away because I couldn't take what he was doing to me. I couldn't feel his hands on my body again, I couldn't feel his tongue in my mouth. I was terrified in my own home and my parents didn't give a fuck. I needed them and they left me for him. And when I tried to get away, he came after me and so I killed him. He screamed for me to help him and I let him scream. I let him scream like I had screamed for years. I let him scream until he suffocated on his own blood." There was a silence as anger gave way to guilt, his hands shaking as he pressed closer against the wall.
"A-and then... then I turned on Taka. I hurt him like he hurt me. Taka cried and begged like I had and I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I-I... I'm a monster." He gave in. Stumbling towards her desk, he emptied his stomach, wishing he could empty the guilt as well.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? What does that mean?" Uruha didn't know much about psychology or disorders or medical terms in general. Mostly, the words scared him and made him nervous. Dr. Yoshida folded her hands over her papers, her glasses sitting on the desk.
"It means Akira experienced something that was incredibly traumatic to him. As a child."
"If he was a child, then... what does that have to do with how he's acting now if it wasn't how he always was." The doctor shook her head, letting out a sigh.
"PTSD symptoms don't show themselves until weeks, months, or-- as in this case-- years after the event. For Akira, the trauma lasted years itself. There was... continued sexual abuse within his home." Uruha's stomach clenched painfully and he felt sick, light headed. The words were too much to digest but the doctor pressed forward.
"Usually I would not be sharing confidential patient information with you, but as Akira's parents have refused our phone calls he will be released into your care. You need to be prepared… you need to understand what’s happened to him in order to help him recover. He's going to need his friends for his rehabilitation."
"Was... was it his parents?" Uruha remembered being at Akira's house, remembered his mother's face as she brought them snacks, her voice as she hummed while fixing dinner. He remembered Akira's dad, his love for cars and cable tv and politics. He couldn't picture them doing something like that. The doctor shook her head, pressing her lips together.
"No. It was... it was his older brother. For years. The way Akira tells it, the notes from the previous doctors, medical records all indicate extremely violent, prolonged sexual abuse. He suffered broken bones, scaring, needed stitches a number of times, not to mention the psychological trauma that went untreated for his entire adolescence."
Uruha shook his head, cradling it in his hands. Seichi. Akira's unemployed, faded glory older brother. He'd been a star student, top of his class, soccer star, was dating the girl he planned to marry. He was a lot older than them, had already graduated high school before they were seven. Akira had talked about Seichi a lot. His brother was meant to go on to become either a professional soccer star or run his own business. But about halfway through his first year in college, things fell apart. His girlfriend cheated on him, he got wasted and was meant to play a game the next day. He wasn't in the right mindset and got injured during the game. Really busted up his knee and was on bed rest back home for a long time. He never did go back to college but definitely had a lasting relationship with alcohol until he died falling down the stairs. Had he been hurting Akira since he got home or had this been going on even before that?
"Why... why didn't his parents do anything? Didn't they realize something was wrong?" Uruha's own mother knew if something was wrong with him even all the way in Kanagawa. He could remember times Akira would seem on edge and irritated, brushing off concerns about black eyes or bruises or split lips. The one time Uruha and pushed for answers, Akira punched him in the nose and told him to mind his own goddamn business.
"His parents ignored it. The first time Akira came to a psychologist, it was because of behavioral problems. Acting out at school, fighting with other kids, unusually quiet and secluded at home. He had unexplainable bruises, lacerations. These were all signs of abuse and at first the doctor thought it might be the father, due to how cold he seemed about the whole thing. But Akira didn't seem to fear either of his parents. Upon further prompting, he spoke of a monster, a creature who was hurting him. A representation of his brother. The doctor had seen the brother only once, but noted Akira's sudden change in demeanor. He brought up his concern to the Suzuki's and they shut him down and immediately pulled Akira from his sessions. They refused to believe that their son would do that, even now they refuse to acknowledge it. It seems that after their eldest died, they never left much room in their lives for Akira."
Uruha fisted his hands in his lap, clenched his teeth together. He didn't know who he was angrier at; Seichi for doing something so evil, his parents for letting it happen or himself for not pushing harder for answers even if it meant getting a broken nose.
"I'll take care of him. I'll do whatever I have to. I'll help him anyway I can. I promise. I won't let him down."
A/N: Can you believe it's been almost three years since I started this? Holy shit. If this were a child, it'd be walking and potty trained by now. @____@ It blows my mind.
Thank you for everyone who has read this. None of this would be possible with out you and I read and appreciate and love every single review I get. It means the world to me. This is my passion and my baby and I'm so grateful for everyone who has watched it grow with me. <3