Frequented

Author's Note: This story contains boy/boy situations, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, don't read. Otherwise, enjoy the story and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Rockman Exe. Series or Silent Hill.

Pairing: Netto x Tohru

Summary:

Hikari Netto, tormented by a personal issue, is admitted to a psychiatric hospital by request of his boyfriend, who is concerned that the secret that he has been keeping from him will endanger his life.

Chapter 1: Allocated Space

This place frightened him. Though there were many who walked through this same door, their shoes transferred from the wet concrete outside and coming to tap the cracked plaster tiles of the floor lightly with each step, loneliness pooled in his chest and caused a constricting pain to echo near his heart every few seconds. The dusty white walls were a perfect fit for what he saw as an asylum – not necessarily a gathering for the insane, rather a medical clinic, situated at least half a day's drive from his hometown; he had come to get well, but had little hope that he would be leaving any time soon.

As he entered the main lobby, a whirlwind of activity in itself, filled with seated patients and staff dashing back and forth between another set of double doors, he unconsciously knitted his fingers together, rubbing his knuckles repetitively and checking his nails for stains that did not exist. Some of the folks that were crowded around a table reading magazines while they waited turned to him. One of them, an elderly man, whispered into the ear of a little blonde girl, presumably his granddaughter, before picking up the cane that rested up against his chair and taking her by the hand to depart for another section of the ward. Another, a woman glamorously dressed in jewellery and designer label clothing, scoffed at him while punching numbers into her phone, losing herself in a long rant with a friend about how much it "hurt having to put up with normal people."

The secretary called out from behind her desk, motioning him forward. He obeyed reluctantly, still immersed in playing with his digits, and was given a clipboard with five pages worth of forms to fill out. After having received the paperwork, he made his way back to the waiting area, sitting down in the only vacant seat, which was unfortunately beside the lady who could not stop flapping her gums. Attempting to tune out her increasingly annoying banter, including excruciating repeats of "Like, you know" and "How's it going with that new fling," he busied himself with the forms, almost forgetting at some point to write 'NONE' overtop the line reserved for allergies. Completing the last of the information with his signature, he returned to the secretary to hand in the desired material. She scowled briefly at him for not replacing the sheets in their proper order on the clipboard, but it was difficult to tell whether or not she was truly angry, for eyebrows were missing from her face. With a sigh, she stood up and proceeded to guide him down a hallway that seemed to taper the further they travelled. On the way, they encountered numerous nurses clad in skin-tight tops, short skirts, and high heels that exposed their ankles. To the common eye, they offered a visual feast, but to him, these women symbolized a darker side of reality that he was about to venture into. He did not want to call it 'hospitalization,' as it was too gruesome a word for him to stomach. He preferred 'treatment;' it sounded softer and did not result in a churning of the fluids in his gut. Ironic that it was this same process that led him there in the first place.

The sweet scent of bran muffins fluttered into his nostrils as he bent over the oven, inspecting his work. It was his twenty-fifth day attending Akihara College, and he had already wowed his fellow undergraduates with his superb cooking skills, grace to his adoring mother, who had encouraged her son at a young age to pursue the finer aspects of cuisine. It was his intention that the pastries being warmed at the moment be saved for later; he looked forward to sharing this special batch with an equally special person: Hikawa Tohru, his somewhat shy but caring love interest since the early days in high school. No one suspected that the two would emerge as an item, given they were entirely different people; he was the energetic and ever popular kid with a thirst for adventure, while Tohru was the self-motivated and reclusive loner, ruled out by most cliques as an oddball of sorts. He did not mind though, for he understood Tohru unlike anybody else because of their history together. He could never deny the fact that it was their close friendship that brought them into an even steadier romantic relationship.

Of course, he would not have realized anything beyond the ordinary had it not been for Tohru finally coming out of the closet and admitting his feelings towards him. It was a day whose events remained lodged in his brain for the longest time before being registered and interpreted. Upon hearing, "I love you," he had gently refused, stating the garden variety, "I'm flattered and all, but we've been friends practically forever and I wouldn't want to break that up." He remembered that Tohru had simply nodded and went on as if nothing had changed, but as he himself soon came to accept, such a response belied the truth of the matter. Regret visited him often, and he was surprised to find himself pushed to the brink of madness over a boy. Growing up, he had witnessed the harsh nature in which people deemed 'unusual' could be treated, but as weeks elapsed following the other's confession, he could not help but feel sorry for turning him down; it was outright rude not to give him a chance. When he finally apologized for the way in which he had acted, Tohru forgave him, then popped the question: "Is it all right if I kiss you?" Not even bothering to answer, he had leaned in for the kill, having abandoned rationale in favour of satisfying a ravenous hunger within himself, a struggle not only for love, but also for dominance; he hated being on the receiving end of physical affections, as his first kiss as a child had come out of nowhere and left him with a desire to take control.

From then on, it was impossible for him not to spare a glance in Tohru's direction at every opportunity. He was just too adorable…Bundled up in a paling sweatshirt with sleeves that curled at the wrists, complete with a hood that highlighted his chocolate-brown puppy dog eyes. The mere thought of the boy was enough to send sparks of pleasure jolting across the synapses in his body at breakneck speed. He quickly memorized as much about Tohru as he could; likes: onsen, dislikes: being left out, blood type: O, sign: Pisces, favourite animal: cat, favourite ice cream flavour: vanilla, favourite movie: Spirited Away

Tohru, in return, did the same; likes: netbattling and curry, dislikes: being deprived of food, blood type: A, sign: Aries, favourite animal: butterfly, favourite ice cream flavour: cherry, favourite movie: StarPotter Reloaded

As time went on, their bond deepened. Graduation night was a strange mix of comedy and seriousness. He had stepped onto the dance floor, clearly having had too much to drink, practically clawing at Tohru's shoulders for support. The entire ordeal proved awkward; the other boy, who was shorter, had to keep him from slumping into the gymnasium hardwood or passing out from exhaustion. Despite the burden of tending to him, Tohru had remained ecstatic, laughing afterwards and telling him, "You're a fun drunk, you know that?" He had brushed off the remark, grunting in agony as a major hangover hit. On multiple occasions, he nearly choked on his own saliva, a bag of ice pressed to his aching skull. Tohru had seen him through it, denying himself six hours of sleep to make sure he recovered by the following morning.

A week-and-a-half later, the two rented a small, three-room apartment. Tohru insisted that they hold out on purchasing a television set, as he needed the money for a laptop and had not yet found a part-time job. To his dismay, he had agreed, but his boyfriend made it up to him by buying him both the TV and a DVD player once he snagged an opening in the electronics department of Future Shop. The store paid him minimum wage, but Tohru worked overtime for the sake of pumping funds into his savings account.

College began within four months. While he studied first-year home economics, taking a boring philosophy course on the side for extra credit that elaborated on Nietzche's Also Sprach Zarathustra, Tohru shot ahead into third-year engineering with a scholarship from some enterprise he had trouble pronouncing the name of. He was jealous of his counterpart's superior intellect, but took sadistic delight in the idea that he would starve to death if it were not for his own culinary expertise, even though he knew that the boy could whip up a damn good plate of noodles.

It was during this period that the 'episodes' commenced. He grew suspicious of the motives others held in regards to Tohru. Constantly, his man would be stolen away from him by a bunch of dirty flirts who had nothing better to do than to cross paths with happy couples. He made a conscious decision to look his best, donning a snazzier outfit and getting his hair done on a regular basis. When these efforts failed to have any effect on Tohru, who, as he saw it, was just "being nice" in response to the advances of these bloodsucking harlots, he came to a startling conclusion while staring at his reflection in the mirror.

The food bill next month suddenly doubled, but Tohru did not let his thoughts linger on such a trivial affair…that is, until he discovered the reason for the sharp increase in spending. As he arrived home late one day after examinations, he noticed piles of junk food wrappers that lay shredded atop the kitchen counter. Fries were scattered about, and half-eaten burgers riddled the table area in front of the coffee machine. In addition, a box containing six delectable muffins was propped up against the fridge. He could hear quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. He tiptoed to the door, which was already slightly ajar, and peeked inside to see his boyfriend, hunched over the toilet seat, spewing chunks of what he had just ingested into the open bowl. Had it not been for the finger his lover had jammed up his mouth and into the back of his throat, Tohru may have dismissed the action as a consequence of food poisoning, but it was obvious now what he was really doing.

He wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him along the linoleum and forcing his hands together as if he was handcuffing him. "Stop!"

The brunette jumped in shock, trying to break free of his grasp, repugnant liquid still dripping from the edge of his lips. "T-Tohru-kun…Why are you here?"

"Why am I here? What about you? How long have you been doing this?" He hugged him close to prevent his escape, his tears wetting the fabric of his vest collar. "This isn't right. You'll get yourself hurt…"

The secretary left him in silence. Almost immediately upon hearing her say, "Good night," he leapt onto the bed, comprised of an old mattress thrown over a metal framework of twisted bars and worn springs, and inspected the surroundings outside the window. The fog was thick tonight…so thick that only faint shapes could be identified in the far-reaching mists. The branch of a tree struck the glass repeatedly. He curled up into a ball, shivering under the covers, without even a sound to lull him into slumber.