Something small I wrote because episode 59 was too much and i had way too many feels and anger to not write anything.
His world stopped around him. His body grew stiff, heavy. Eyes shook from the shock that ran through his veins.
Those words. He was lying. No. Kyoya doesn't lie. Not to him. He really meant it this time.
Kyoya had abandoned him. Even after defeating Zanya Kisaragi as ordered, as planned, Kyoya has pushed him away, out of his life.
After all he's done. It wasn't good enough. After everything he sacrificed for him. How could he do this? After everything they have been through together.
Were they not friends? Kyoya was his friend, right? His only friend. The only person he ever considered a true friend.
He lost his footing. He took a step backward. Another. Two more. His back hit the wall. His legs felt numb. His knees stiff, yet they also felt like jelly.
Piercing blue eyes stared at the floor. He watched as his legs shook. He saw his white hair lying against his cheeks and down his neck.
Clenched fist. Tight jaw. A growl escaped his lips.
Anger. Frustration. Regret. Betrayal. Anguish. Sadness. Heartbreak. A wave of emotion crashed on top of him. He pushed forward. He grabbed his staff from the floor. He looked at the door where his so called "friend" residented. He looked away. Closed his eyes. And walked away.
The crash of metal meeting concrete boomed across the empty space. Trash scattered and the can rolled. Rouga didn't care. He was angry. He was upset. He felt betrayed.
Nails dug into the palms of his hands. His knuckles were white. He swung. Now they were red. Scraped skin and blood. The wall around his fist began to cave in.
It did nothing for him. He felt no better than before.
Anger would do nothing for him. But he couldn't help but feel this way. He has known for Kyoya Gaen for years. Or he thought he did. Everything was a game. He was a pawn. He was used in Kyoya's little game. And he lost, tossed away like trash. Like the trash he just kicked not too long ago.
He raised his head. He looked up at the moon. It's dark skies and lunar light shined down, illuminating him. His heart hammered in his chest.
He walked over towards the staircase. He sat down on the cold steps. Elbows on his knees, hands over his eyes. He sat in silence. No one was around for miles. Eyes either glued to a tv screen or on the buddyfight stage waiting for the next fight to start. No one would see him. No one would bother him.
Justice couldn't make him any less lonely. It was as he said. No one needs justice. He never got it. Never will. All he had was himself. No one would ever understand him.
Who needs friends?
"Never again." He growled. He bit his lip. He saw his face in his mind. He growled again. "Never."