Still Hunt [Chapter Seven]
Series Title: Still hunt
Chapter: seven
I’m hurting.
At first it was in my chest, but then, I noticed it was in my fist too.
When I did it, I longed for it to be that fucking boy, I wanted to pretend I was shattering his face; I wanted to watch it fall to pieces. But all I saw was my own reflection.
~
For once, it had been You who had been up since dawn. He had been careful not to wake the boy sleeping next to him, postponing the hangover he would face that morning. He’d already showered, careful not to touch the needle marks from the hospital bruising his arms and wrists. He counted one, two, three, maybe even four purple bruises, all sore and ugly on his skin. He had been more than glad Satoru hadn’t seen any of them in the dark last night.
He felt like an ugly mess. He hadn’t had a proper shower since before the ‘incident’, and of course his hair was tangled and an embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look in the bathroom mirror to the extent that he kept his back to it the whole time.
However after attempting to tidy up his appearance, he suddenly noticed the broken shards of glass shattered around his feet.
~
He blinked hard, his eyes drowsy and sore from taking in the bright morning light.
Satoru sat upright in bed, his head instantly feeling as if someone had hit him with a frying pan.
He cursed under his breath momentarily, rubbing his aching forehead. It took him a few moments to recall all of last night’s events, and instantly he felt embarrassed by his drunken actions.
“Fuck..”
Please don’t ever let me drink again.
Turning on to his side for a moment to comfort the body lying next to him, it was then that he realised he was alone.
Did you leave because of last night?
He immediately shook the paranoid thoughts out of his mind as he noticed the sound of running water.
Satoru hoped he hadn’t hurt You after his confrontational, forceful apology; alcohol brought out all the emotions he usually suppressed and controlled in real life.
He staggered out of the bed, before regretting it instantly as the room shifted in his vision.
Reluctantly his body forced him back down to the bed, threatening nausea if he dared get up again.
I think I need to sleep some more.
~
At first, he wasn’t even sure where it had come from. It just seemed to be everywhere; he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it.
The mirror.
The vast space it had covered on the wall now lay empty except for a dusty shadow.
In slight shock his mind tried to work out what had happened, until he remembered the alcohol induced behaviour of Satoru the night before. He came to the conclusion that he must have done it by accident, a drunken, clumsy mistake...
You crouched down to the tiled floor, staring at the razor sharp pieces.
There was blood.
He felt a stab of alarm in his chest, his mind flooding with mixed feelings of concern and confusion. Not believing his eyes, he picked up the largest piece of glass, his distorted reflection gleaming back at him tainted in red.
The moment the cold fluid touched his fingers, he dropped the glass instantly, before it shattered on the hard floor.
With wide eyes, he stood up and stepped over the glass to the sink to wash away the blood, before he noticed the sink for the first time that morning.
The basin itself was stained in yet more blood, along with the taps and the soap and the rack of white towels, as if they had tried to stop the bleeding and wash away the evidence, before the panic set in.
It was everywhere.
You stood and stared, his heart beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears.
It was unbelievable. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t even noticed.
Satoru…
The wave of guilt ran through him at the thought of what must have happened.
He realised he must have smashed the mirror purposely in a burst of anger, cutting himself on the glass…
After everything that had happened to them recently, and then the argument, he knew Satoru could lose control of himself especially if he had been drinking.
He had only ever seen it happen once before; the memory of what had happened before combined with the current circumstances only made the situation overwhelming.
I didn’t think you’d bring that anger with you to Tokyo.
After staring for a few moments, he immediately left the bathroom in search of a plastic bag, finding one in a drawer under the kitchen sink. He was thankful it wasn’t see-through.
He took it back to the bathroom, and began picking up the glass with his bare hands, piece by piece, every tiny shard he could see with his frightened eyes. As he threw them into the bag, he was distressed so much he didn’t even notice the cuts starting to appear on his hands. He just wanted to be rid of the mess as fast as possible.
As soon as he had cleared all of the glass he could find, he reached for the stained towels and the soap, throwing them in aswell, before disposing of the bag in their household bin.
The bathroom however, still remained a blood stained mess. Without hesitation he found some bleach and a cloth, and immediately began scrubbing furiously until the sink and the space on the floor gleamed unnaturally clean, the potent smell of disinfectant filling the air.
He resisted the urge to choke.
~
In a strange state of consciousness that held him in a very light sleep, Satoru had been dreaming.
The alcohol which had suppressed his memory began to lift; his brain conjuring up mixed signals and flashbacks of the night before.
Every few minutes he woke up, before drifting back into sleep, confusing his dreams with reality.
He was a little cold, the yukata he was wearing proving to be useless in the Winter mornings, too tired and hungover to do anything about it.
You stood in the doorway, watching the boy sleeping in their bed. He had the duvet pulled up tight to his chin, as if he was trying to keep warm.
Are you hurt badly? Where did you cut yourself?
You paced as quietly as possible over to him, sitting down on the bed next to the sleeping figure. He didn’t want to wake him, he didn’t even want to confront him about it, he just wanted to see what he had done.
Hesitating for a moment, he slowly pulled the duvet away from him, noticing the boy stirring slightly in his sleep.
I can’t believe I didn’t even notice last night.
You carefully untied the obi from his waist, keeping his eyes firmly on Satoru. He struggled to manage the tight knot at first, until at last he pulled it free, before slipping his arms out of the cotton sleeves.
With his pale skin exposed to the cold air, Satoru shivered in his sleep, his eyes starting to open slightly.
You took hold of his arms, staring at them intently.
There were no marks.
He reached for his hands, searching across his fists and wrists, only to find nothing but old scars from the many fights and car accidents he had been in.
Before he could react, he noticed Satoru awake and watching him quietly.
“I’m cold.”
You froze for the moment, scared of what Satoru thought he was doing.
“Me too.” You whispered, as a shiver of fear crawled over his skin.
“Did you undress me?” he asked coyly, misreading the distressed expression on You’s face.
Well if you didn’t break the mirror,
“Yes.”
Then who was it?
Satoru smiled slightly at what he thought You had being doing.
“Come here..”
You failed to respond to him, his mind overflowing with confusion.
I must be imagining it all. I must be going fucking mad.
“You,”
It must be my fucking medication.
“Yes?”
“Come here.”
You followed his beckoning, lying down next to him on the bed.
He felt Satoru pull the soft silk sheets around them tightly, feeling too distracted to notice the older boy pull him closer.
“Are you still cold?”
“No, this is much better.” You whispered, resting his head on Satoru’s bare chest.
Maybe you did it, but don’t remember.
Satoru placed a kiss on his forehead, a little paranoid at You’s lack of speech.
But why don’t you have any cuts or bruises?
“I should have gone to the studio today…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you.”
“Its fine, I’ll just go in after lunch,”
“No-”
I’m scared.
“No?”
“I want you to stay.”
to be continued.
IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. i had my gcses on, but now they're over, i should continue writing as normal!
Chapter: seven
I’m hurting.
At first it was in my chest, but then, I noticed it was in my fist too.
When I did it, I longed for it to be that fucking boy, I wanted to pretend I was shattering his face; I wanted to watch it fall to pieces. But all I saw was my own reflection.
~
For once, it had been You who had been up since dawn. He had been careful not to wake the boy sleeping next to him, postponing the hangover he would face that morning. He’d already showered, careful not to touch the needle marks from the hospital bruising his arms and wrists. He counted one, two, three, maybe even four purple bruises, all sore and ugly on his skin. He had been more than glad Satoru hadn’t seen any of them in the dark last night.
He felt like an ugly mess. He hadn’t had a proper shower since before the ‘incident’, and of course his hair was tangled and an embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look in the bathroom mirror to the extent that he kept his back to it the whole time.
However after attempting to tidy up his appearance, he suddenly noticed the broken shards of glass shattered around his feet.
~
He blinked hard, his eyes drowsy and sore from taking in the bright morning light.
Satoru sat upright in bed, his head instantly feeling as if someone had hit him with a frying pan.
He cursed under his breath momentarily, rubbing his aching forehead. It took him a few moments to recall all of last night’s events, and instantly he felt embarrassed by his drunken actions.
“Fuck..”
Please don’t ever let me drink again.
Turning on to his side for a moment to comfort the body lying next to him, it was then that he realised he was alone.
Did you leave because of last night?
He immediately shook the paranoid thoughts out of his mind as he noticed the sound of running water.
Satoru hoped he hadn’t hurt You after his confrontational, forceful apology; alcohol brought out all the emotions he usually suppressed and controlled in real life.
He staggered out of the bed, before regretting it instantly as the room shifted in his vision.
Reluctantly his body forced him back down to the bed, threatening nausea if he dared get up again.
I think I need to sleep some more.
~
At first, he wasn’t even sure where it had come from. It just seemed to be everywhere; he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it.
The mirror.
The vast space it had covered on the wall now lay empty except for a dusty shadow.
In slight shock his mind tried to work out what had happened, until he remembered the alcohol induced behaviour of Satoru the night before. He came to the conclusion that he must have done it by accident, a drunken, clumsy mistake...
You crouched down to the tiled floor, staring at the razor sharp pieces.
There was blood.
He felt a stab of alarm in his chest, his mind flooding with mixed feelings of concern and confusion. Not believing his eyes, he picked up the largest piece of glass, his distorted reflection gleaming back at him tainted in red.
The moment the cold fluid touched his fingers, he dropped the glass instantly, before it shattered on the hard floor.
With wide eyes, he stood up and stepped over the glass to the sink to wash away the blood, before he noticed the sink for the first time that morning.
The basin itself was stained in yet more blood, along with the taps and the soap and the rack of white towels, as if they had tried to stop the bleeding and wash away the evidence, before the panic set in.
It was everywhere.
You stood and stared, his heart beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears.
It was unbelievable. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t even noticed.
Satoru…
The wave of guilt ran through him at the thought of what must have happened.
He realised he must have smashed the mirror purposely in a burst of anger, cutting himself on the glass…
After everything that had happened to them recently, and then the argument, he knew Satoru could lose control of himself especially if he had been drinking.
He had only ever seen it happen once before; the memory of what had happened before combined with the current circumstances only made the situation overwhelming.
I didn’t think you’d bring that anger with you to Tokyo.
After staring for a few moments, he immediately left the bathroom in search of a plastic bag, finding one in a drawer under the kitchen sink. He was thankful it wasn’t see-through.
He took it back to the bathroom, and began picking up the glass with his bare hands, piece by piece, every tiny shard he could see with his frightened eyes. As he threw them into the bag, he was distressed so much he didn’t even notice the cuts starting to appear on his hands. He just wanted to be rid of the mess as fast as possible.
As soon as he had cleared all of the glass he could find, he reached for the stained towels and the soap, throwing them in aswell, before disposing of the bag in their household bin.
The bathroom however, still remained a blood stained mess. Without hesitation he found some bleach and a cloth, and immediately began scrubbing furiously until the sink and the space on the floor gleamed unnaturally clean, the potent smell of disinfectant filling the air.
He resisted the urge to choke.
~
In a strange state of consciousness that held him in a very light sleep, Satoru had been dreaming.
The alcohol which had suppressed his memory began to lift; his brain conjuring up mixed signals and flashbacks of the night before.
Every few minutes he woke up, before drifting back into sleep, confusing his dreams with reality.
He was a little cold, the yukata he was wearing proving to be useless in the Winter mornings, too tired and hungover to do anything about it.
You stood in the doorway, watching the boy sleeping in their bed. He had the duvet pulled up tight to his chin, as if he was trying to keep warm.
Are you hurt badly? Where did you cut yourself?
You paced as quietly as possible over to him, sitting down on the bed next to the sleeping figure. He didn’t want to wake him, he didn’t even want to confront him about it, he just wanted to see what he had done.
Hesitating for a moment, he slowly pulled the duvet away from him, noticing the boy stirring slightly in his sleep.
I can’t believe I didn’t even notice last night.
You carefully untied the obi from his waist, keeping his eyes firmly on Satoru. He struggled to manage the tight knot at first, until at last he pulled it free, before slipping his arms out of the cotton sleeves.
With his pale skin exposed to the cold air, Satoru shivered in his sleep, his eyes starting to open slightly.
You took hold of his arms, staring at them intently.
There were no marks.
He reached for his hands, searching across his fists and wrists, only to find nothing but old scars from the many fights and car accidents he had been in.
Before he could react, he noticed Satoru awake and watching him quietly.
“I’m cold.”
You froze for the moment, scared of what Satoru thought he was doing.
“Me too.” You whispered, as a shiver of fear crawled over his skin.
“Did you undress me?” he asked coyly, misreading the distressed expression on You’s face.
Well if you didn’t break the mirror,
“Yes.”
Then who was it?
Satoru smiled slightly at what he thought You had being doing.
“Come here..”
You failed to respond to him, his mind overflowing with confusion.
I must be imagining it all. I must be going fucking mad.
“You,”
It must be my fucking medication.
“Yes?”
“Come here.”
You followed his beckoning, lying down next to him on the bed.
He felt Satoru pull the soft silk sheets around them tightly, feeling too distracted to notice the older boy pull him closer.
“Are you still cold?”
“No, this is much better.” You whispered, resting his head on Satoru’s bare chest.
Maybe you did it, but don’t remember.
Satoru placed a kiss on his forehead, a little paranoid at You’s lack of speech.
But why don’t you have any cuts or bruises?
“I should have gone to the studio today…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you.”
“Its fine, I’ll just go in after lunch,”
“No-”
I’m scared.
“No?”
“I want you to stay.”
to be continued.
IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. i had my gcses on, but now they're over, i should continue writing as normal!