{MULTICHAPTER} Tell Me Why (Chapter 7)
TITLE: Tell Me Why (Chapter 7)
PAIRING: RyoDa (main), PiDa, Akame
RATING: NC17 (overall)
SUMMARY: After a chance encounter at the supermarket, Ryo is intrigued by Ueda, and he is determined to find out more about the other. The more he discovers, the more he wants to protect him, and after enlisting the help of his two closest friends, they set out to help Ueda.
GENRE: Angst, fluff, romance, violence, AU
WARNINGS: Violence.
DISCLAIMER: Do not own. Title belongs to Taylor Swift.
A/N: Requested by natsuki_suzu. Once again this chapter is dedicated to marsbareater12, because she wrote me an offshot to this fic and it's all kinds of amazing. You should check it out (yo).
The hospital was as sad and dreary as it had been the time before.
Everything was white and cream and green; the nurses all wearing similar pale colours and rushing around with clipboards and wheeling patients about. Even the paintings hung on the walls were boring. There were many scattered about, but they were of landscapes, or some kind of abstract work in reds and yellows and blues with flecks of brown and it hurt Tatsuya's mind trying to figure it out.
In the end, they were all just lines and dots on a piece of canvas to him, really.
Tatsuya sighed, rolling over in his bed, the crisp sheets ruffling loudly in the relative silence of his bedroom. He wasn't alone; three other people lay in their own beds in each corner of the room. There was Yamamoto, who had a badly broken leg (but still had a wide smile), and was in the bed directly opposite him. There was an older man in the bed beside Yamamoto, who was greying and seemed to have a lot of visitors who all wore suits; and a teenaged girl next to Tatsuya, who he barely ever saw because she always had the curtain drawn around her bed. All he knew was that she had short black hair and sharp eyes.
Yamamoto was the only one that spoke to him, even though Tatsuya didn't say anything back. He seemed nice, though.
It was lonely, in the hospital, when the lights went down, and Tatsuya was left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of Tomohisa, and of Nishikido.
Nishikido had said that Tomohisa had been taken to the police station. Nishikido spoke a lot, when he visited, but Tatsuya just wanted to curl into a ball and wait for Tomohisa to come and get him. But he wouldn't, he realised. If they had arrested him-- Tomohisa wouldn't be coming back for him.
All he had was Nishikido, now.
Nishikido.
Nishikido with his dark skin and his deep eyes. Nishikido, who seemed to appear every time something went wrong. Nishikido, who visited him every day, who spoke to him in a soft voice, even though he never said anything back.
He seemed to be everywhere. And to be truly honest, it was scaring Tatsuya a little. It was bad enough at home, to be on tenderhooks when the clock struck six and Tomohisa would be walking through the front door. But Nishikido was everywhere Tomohisa wasn't, and Tatsuya had often found himself looking over his shoulder more than often, waiting for the other to appear.
But somehow, the fear that he had for Nishikido was different from the fear he held for Tomohisa.
Tatsuya's mind was a mess.
He sighed into the silence, staring blankly at the punnet of strawberries that Nishikido had left him that afternoon. Why was Nishikido so worried about him? He wasn't very important; he was definitely nothing special. So why did Nishikido always appear when he needed him?
He was like his goddamn knight in shining armour, Tatsuya thought with a wry smile.
That all being said, however, he had also made him feel happy again. Nishikido's texts every day seemed to brighten up his life a little. Tatsuya groaned, shaking his head at himself. He really needed to just stop thinking.
He couldn't sleep, though. Everytime he closed his eyes, flashes of what had happened would appear; Tomohisa's face and Nishikido's face and there was a knife, Tatsuya knew that. There was a knife. He vaguely remembered someone else being there, later, but couldn't remember his face, or his voice.
Tomohisa had done something, Tatsuya knew. Tomohisa had done something worse than he had ever done before. The doctors had told him (with a fretting Nishikido standing behind them) what Tomohisa had done, but somehow he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Tomohisa had... well.
Apparently he'd suffered a mental block. His mind had tried to save him by blocking out everything that had happened. It had just left him confused, though.
Tatsuya didn't want to sleep. He didn't, but the drugs that the nurse had given him were making his eyelids heavy, and he found himself slowly drifting to sleep, the only happiness in this being that it would be dreamless.
Days dragged on like this, day after day after boring night, with nurses coming in to check on his bruises and his slightly sprained ankle. He had one doctor for his ankle and another doctor for his mind, who seemed to always speak to him like a child. Tatsuya didn't really care anymore.
Nishikido visited at lunch time, which was always embarrassing, because Tatsuya had to sit there and eat horrible hospital food as Nishikido watched. Tatsuya would always give him his biscuit, and laugh as Nishikido dropped crumbs on his suit. He left at one, but was back by seven, after work, and always brought him something from Koyama's store.
"Koyama says hi," he would say with a smile, placing the bag down on the side table.
Tatsuya would always smile back.
>>><<<
The house was so cold without Tomohisa there. Even though he was barely there anyway, the fact that Tomohisa wasn't coming back made it seem so much bigger.
"Are you going to be okay?" Nishikido asked, from his side. Tatsuya nodded.
He'd be fine. He didn't need Nishikido's help.
Nishikido made a noise beside him, and he realised that he probably said that out loud. "First words you say to me for a week and you're grumbling," he muttered. Tatsuya couldn't be bothered to apologise. "Well, if you're fine, I'll go then."
As soon as Nishikido closed the door behind him, he wanted him back.
The house practically echoed as Tatsuya made his way through the hall and down to the kitchen. It was strange, because nothing had changed at all. Everything was where they had left it. The dishes were still in the sink. They were still dirty.
He sighed, deciding that he should probably get changed from whatever he had thrown on in the hospital. Up the stairs, to the right. There was blood on the rail, and Tatsuya wasn't sure how it got there. It was probably his. It was always his.
The room was a mess. The bedsheets were lying on the floor, there was blood on the carpet - Tatsuya vaguely remembered being dragged at some point - and there were clothes flung everywhere. Tatsuya took a deep breath and stepped over the first piece of clothing - jeans - and carried on to the wardrobe, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped.
But there was another bloodstain on the dresser and suddenly his mind was whirring, all these images of Tomohisa and he appearing in his mind. He held onto the dresser as he closed his eyes tightly, remembering those touches and the way Tomohisa dragged him upstairs, throwing him into the room.
He tried to shut the pictures out, but they kept coming. That flash of blinding pain as his head hit the corner of the dresser; Tomohisa's grip on his arms as he followed him to the floor; that panic as he tried to get away but Tomohisa pulled him back down.
"Shit, shit, shit," Tatsuya groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead, as if it could push the pictures out of his mind.
He couldn't stay here.
Nishikido.
>>><<<
"So... this is it," Nishikido said, a little sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and quickly moving to remove a sock from the back of a chair. "Don't... I don't know why that was there. Sorry-- that's not even mine-- fucking Akanishi," he muttered to himself.
Tatsuya stood in the doorway awkwardly. "Akanishi?"
"Jin," Nishikido said, and Tatsuya vaguely remembered that name. "So, shall we get you settled?"
Nishikido's house was smaller than Tomohisa's. It was painted a cream colour, with a brown couch and a wooden table and chairs, paintings of different landscapes on the walls. "What's this?" he asked, and Nishikido smiled.
"My mother paints," he explained. "She's run out of room on her walls at home, so she's given me some."
"They're nice..."
"I'll be sure to tell her that," Nishikido laughed, as he moved about the kitchen. "Do you want lunch?"
Tatsuya shook his head, and Nishikido shrugged. "Your house is nice."
"Eh? Ah, it's nothing, really, but thankyou." Nishikido looked up from making his own sandwich, and smiled. "You can look around, if you want."
So Tatsuya did. Nishikido's house was full of soft corners, browns and creams and dark greens decorating the place. It was a comfortable place, Tatsuya thought, smiling a little as he saw framed photographs on the bookshelf. There was that Jin, he realised, looking at one of the photos of Nishikido and two other people. "You were really brown when you were younger," he commented, and he heard Nishikido's short bark of laughter from the kitchen.
"I used to go to the beach a lot," he said, "I always go brown."
"Where will I be sleeping?" Tatsuya asked, a little awkwardly.
"Ah!" Nishikido said, rushing around the corner, his sandwich in-hand. "I forgot. Here, it's upstairs."
As Nishikido led him upstairs, Tatsuya suddenly felt as though he was being unloyal to Tomohisa. He wasn't sure why - nothing was happening, Nishikido was only biting into his sandwich happily as he trudged up the stairs - but still, he felt like he needed to get out of there.
"You okay?" Nishikido asked at the top of the stairs.
"Yep."
"No, you're not."
How did he always know? "I'll be fine." And he would. He'd get over it.
Tatsuya shook off the feeling as Nishikido led him to his guest bedroom. "Sorry for the mess," he laughed, kicking an old exercise ball out of the way.
"It's okay," Tatsuya said, somehow liking the messy room. Nothing in Tomohisa's house was messy, because Tatsuya cleaned it all. There was nothing else to do, really.
He moved through the piles of Nishikido's old belongings, perching himself on the bed. Nishikido grimaced at the dust that flew up off the mattress. "Yeah... I'll change those sheets for you," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Also, I make the best sandwiches ever. Sure you don't want one?"
Tatsuya was about to say no; was about to shake his head and wave a hand and maybe ask Nishikido to leave him alone, but his stomach spoke for him, rumbling angrily. Nishikido grinned in delight.
"Come downstairs; I'll make you one. What did you want on it?"
END OF CHAPTER
A/N: I just have to say that Mars has kind of just popped into my life in the past few days, but has just pushed me into updating more. She has given me restored faith in this fic that I was just kind of writing because I had to, not because I wanted to, but now it's becoming more fun to write. So thankyou, Mars. <33
It's late. I get all sappy when it's late XDD
PAIRING: RyoDa (main), PiDa, Akame
RATING: NC17 (overall)
SUMMARY: After a chance encounter at the supermarket, Ryo is intrigued by Ueda, and he is determined to find out more about the other. The more he discovers, the more he wants to protect him, and after enlisting the help of his two closest friends, they set out to help Ueda.
GENRE: Angst, fluff, romance, violence, AU
WARNINGS: Violence.
DISCLAIMER: Do not own. Title belongs to Taylor Swift.
A/N: Requested by natsuki_suzu. Once again this chapter is dedicated to marsbareater12, because she wrote me an offshot to this fic and it's all kinds of amazing. You should check it out (yo).
The hospital was as sad and dreary as it had been the time before.
Everything was white and cream and green; the nurses all wearing similar pale colours and rushing around with clipboards and wheeling patients about. Even the paintings hung on the walls were boring. There were many scattered about, but they were of landscapes, or some kind of abstract work in reds and yellows and blues with flecks of brown and it hurt Tatsuya's mind trying to figure it out.
In the end, they were all just lines and dots on a piece of canvas to him, really.
Tatsuya sighed, rolling over in his bed, the crisp sheets ruffling loudly in the relative silence of his bedroom. He wasn't alone; three other people lay in their own beds in each corner of the room. There was Yamamoto, who had a badly broken leg (but still had a wide smile), and was in the bed directly opposite him. There was an older man in the bed beside Yamamoto, who was greying and seemed to have a lot of visitors who all wore suits; and a teenaged girl next to Tatsuya, who he barely ever saw because she always had the curtain drawn around her bed. All he knew was that she had short black hair and sharp eyes.
Yamamoto was the only one that spoke to him, even though Tatsuya didn't say anything back. He seemed nice, though.
It was lonely, in the hospital, when the lights went down, and Tatsuya was left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of Tomohisa, and of Nishikido.
Nishikido had said that Tomohisa had been taken to the police station. Nishikido spoke a lot, when he visited, but Tatsuya just wanted to curl into a ball and wait for Tomohisa to come and get him. But he wouldn't, he realised. If they had arrested him-- Tomohisa wouldn't be coming back for him.
All he had was Nishikido, now.
Nishikido.
Nishikido with his dark skin and his deep eyes. Nishikido, who seemed to appear every time something went wrong. Nishikido, who visited him every day, who spoke to him in a soft voice, even though he never said anything back.
He seemed to be everywhere. And to be truly honest, it was scaring Tatsuya a little. It was bad enough at home, to be on tenderhooks when the clock struck six and Tomohisa would be walking through the front door. But Nishikido was everywhere Tomohisa wasn't, and Tatsuya had often found himself looking over his shoulder more than often, waiting for the other to appear.
But somehow, the fear that he had for Nishikido was different from the fear he held for Tomohisa.
Tatsuya's mind was a mess.
He sighed into the silence, staring blankly at the punnet of strawberries that Nishikido had left him that afternoon. Why was Nishikido so worried about him? He wasn't very important; he was definitely nothing special. So why did Nishikido always appear when he needed him?
He was like his goddamn knight in shining armour, Tatsuya thought with a wry smile.
That all being said, however, he had also made him feel happy again. Nishikido's texts every day seemed to brighten up his life a little. Tatsuya groaned, shaking his head at himself. He really needed to just stop thinking.
He couldn't sleep, though. Everytime he closed his eyes, flashes of what had happened would appear; Tomohisa's face and Nishikido's face and there was a knife, Tatsuya knew that. There was a knife. He vaguely remembered someone else being there, later, but couldn't remember his face, or his voice.
Tomohisa had done something, Tatsuya knew. Tomohisa had done something worse than he had ever done before. The doctors had told him (with a fretting Nishikido standing behind them) what Tomohisa had done, but somehow he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Tomohisa had... well.
Apparently he'd suffered a mental block. His mind had tried to save him by blocking out everything that had happened. It had just left him confused, though.
Tatsuya didn't want to sleep. He didn't, but the drugs that the nurse had given him were making his eyelids heavy, and he found himself slowly drifting to sleep, the only happiness in this being that it would be dreamless.
Days dragged on like this, day after day after boring night, with nurses coming in to check on his bruises and his slightly sprained ankle. He had one doctor for his ankle and another doctor for his mind, who seemed to always speak to him like a child. Tatsuya didn't really care anymore.
Nishikido visited at lunch time, which was always embarrassing, because Tatsuya had to sit there and eat horrible hospital food as Nishikido watched. Tatsuya would always give him his biscuit, and laugh as Nishikido dropped crumbs on his suit. He left at one, but was back by seven, after work, and always brought him something from Koyama's store.
"Koyama says hi," he would say with a smile, placing the bag down on the side table.
Tatsuya would always smile back.
>>><<<
The house was so cold without Tomohisa there. Even though he was barely there anyway, the fact that Tomohisa wasn't coming back made it seem so much bigger.
"Are you going to be okay?" Nishikido asked, from his side. Tatsuya nodded.
He'd be fine. He didn't need Nishikido's help.
Nishikido made a noise beside him, and he realised that he probably said that out loud. "First words you say to me for a week and you're grumbling," he muttered. Tatsuya couldn't be bothered to apologise. "Well, if you're fine, I'll go then."
As soon as Nishikido closed the door behind him, he wanted him back.
The house practically echoed as Tatsuya made his way through the hall and down to the kitchen. It was strange, because nothing had changed at all. Everything was where they had left it. The dishes were still in the sink. They were still dirty.
He sighed, deciding that he should probably get changed from whatever he had thrown on in the hospital. Up the stairs, to the right. There was blood on the rail, and Tatsuya wasn't sure how it got there. It was probably his. It was always his.
The room was a mess. The bedsheets were lying on the floor, there was blood on the carpet - Tatsuya vaguely remembered being dragged at some point - and there were clothes flung everywhere. Tatsuya took a deep breath and stepped over the first piece of clothing - jeans - and carried on to the wardrobe, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped.
But there was another bloodstain on the dresser and suddenly his mind was whirring, all these images of Tomohisa and he appearing in his mind. He held onto the dresser as he closed his eyes tightly, remembering those touches and the way Tomohisa dragged him upstairs, throwing him into the room.
He tried to shut the pictures out, but they kept coming. That flash of blinding pain as his head hit the corner of the dresser; Tomohisa's grip on his arms as he followed him to the floor; that panic as he tried to get away but Tomohisa pulled him back down.
"Shit, shit, shit," Tatsuya groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead, as if it could push the pictures out of his mind.
He couldn't stay here.
Nishikido.
>>><<<
"So... this is it," Nishikido said, a little sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and quickly moving to remove a sock from the back of a chair. "Don't... I don't know why that was there. Sorry-- that's not even mine-- fucking Akanishi," he muttered to himself.
Tatsuya stood in the doorway awkwardly. "Akanishi?"
"Jin," Nishikido said, and Tatsuya vaguely remembered that name. "So, shall we get you settled?"
Nishikido's house was smaller than Tomohisa's. It was painted a cream colour, with a brown couch and a wooden table and chairs, paintings of different landscapes on the walls. "What's this?" he asked, and Nishikido smiled.
"My mother paints," he explained. "She's run out of room on her walls at home, so she's given me some."
"They're nice..."
"I'll be sure to tell her that," Nishikido laughed, as he moved about the kitchen. "Do you want lunch?"
Tatsuya shook his head, and Nishikido shrugged. "Your house is nice."
"Eh? Ah, it's nothing, really, but thankyou." Nishikido looked up from making his own sandwich, and smiled. "You can look around, if you want."
So Tatsuya did. Nishikido's house was full of soft corners, browns and creams and dark greens decorating the place. It was a comfortable place, Tatsuya thought, smiling a little as he saw framed photographs on the bookshelf. There was that Jin, he realised, looking at one of the photos of Nishikido and two other people. "You were really brown when you were younger," he commented, and he heard Nishikido's short bark of laughter from the kitchen.
"I used to go to the beach a lot," he said, "I always go brown."
"Where will I be sleeping?" Tatsuya asked, a little awkwardly.
"Ah!" Nishikido said, rushing around the corner, his sandwich in-hand. "I forgot. Here, it's upstairs."
As Nishikido led him upstairs, Tatsuya suddenly felt as though he was being unloyal to Tomohisa. He wasn't sure why - nothing was happening, Nishikido was only biting into his sandwich happily as he trudged up the stairs - but still, he felt like he needed to get out of there.
"You okay?" Nishikido asked at the top of the stairs.
"Yep."
"No, you're not."
How did he always know? "I'll be fine." And he would. He'd get over it.
Tatsuya shook off the feeling as Nishikido led him to his guest bedroom. "Sorry for the mess," he laughed, kicking an old exercise ball out of the way.
"It's okay," Tatsuya said, somehow liking the messy room. Nothing in Tomohisa's house was messy, because Tatsuya cleaned it all. There was nothing else to do, really.
He moved through the piles of Nishikido's old belongings, perching himself on the bed. Nishikido grimaced at the dust that flew up off the mattress. "Yeah... I'll change those sheets for you," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Also, I make the best sandwiches ever. Sure you don't want one?"
Tatsuya was about to say no; was about to shake his head and wave a hand and maybe ask Nishikido to leave him alone, but his stomach spoke for him, rumbling angrily. Nishikido grinned in delight.
"Come downstairs; I'll make you one. What did you want on it?"
END OF CHAPTER
A/N: I just have to say that Mars has kind of just popped into my life in the past few days, but has just pushed me into updating more. She has given me restored faith in this fic that I was just kind of writing because I had to, not because I wanted to, but now it's becoming more fun to write. So thankyou, Mars. <33
It's late. I get all sappy when it's late XDD