It had become habit. This dysfunctional tango Soubit and Ritsuka were doing. Although Ritsuka would probably never notice this, because he was so used to dysfunction. If anything were to be normal he'd probably have to adapt to THAT. Besides, he was far too busy trying to fix whatever he absolutely knew he was doing wrong.

Soubi, just like he had for the past month, ran out and fought alone... or at least that's what Ritsuka thinks he's doing. He wasn't entirely sure. He pondered it a bit as he wound an ace bandage around his knee that he had somehow damaged. He imaginged it was from falling to his knees after having a freshly cooked bowl of rice chucked at him.

He pressed his forhead to the cool glass of the window, feeling the vibration through the glass as each sheet of rain pounded the window, and allowing the curtain to caress the side of his face.

It had been a week since he saw or heard from the fighter. So when he whispered his name to himself, it was less out of expectation that he would come (especially now, after hours of screaming it and a week of crying it to himself.) and more out of...the need to reassure himself there was someone out there who cared about him. Even if it wasn't true.

He covered his face, rubbing the wetness from his eyes that he finally had a chance to release, crying while struggling for your life doesn't really work. IT's either one or the other. He turned to lean his back against the wall next to the window, ignoring the stab of pain followed closely by the dull ache from a welt on his back being pressed on.

One week. That was the longest Soubi had gone without any form of contact with him. A day here or there. A week or so without actually SEEING him, but always at least a text once a day. As Ritsuka cradled himself in his arms, gently rocking himself back and forth and trying to catch his breath between rib cracking sobs, he mumbled

"You left me didn't you...Did you die like Seimei? Choose that instead of having to wait for me?" He put his hands on the floor, trying to steady himself as he slid to one side and the room swam from his quick, harsh intakes of breath.

Soubi clutched his head, gasping then coughing as he rolled on his side, spitting blood and rain out of his mouth. his eyes darted around in the dimly lit park. Where had they gone? Had they left him for dead, unconscious on his back, in the rain? As soon as he realised where he was , who he was, and what he was doing again, his chest tightened as panic violently punched him in the chest. That tug in his stomach feeling a lot mroe like a stuck fish hook, pulling his thoughts above water into stress and guilt ridden air. Causing him to take it all in big gulps. He felt this quite often in the past week. And he knew ignoring it woudl just cause it to build. He shakily stood to his feet, the layer of mud that had coated him from lying comatoes on the ground sliding down his body as the rain washed it, and old blood, towards the ground and into open wounds. As he stood, a wave of panic threatened to knock him over. He began trembling as he clutched his head from the migraine that was currently more blinding than the sperradic lightening that danced in front of him.

His stomach tightened and he cleanched it, ready to throw up from the pain mixing with the stress and blood loss.

And then just as quickly as the wind blew away, it stopped.

He froze, far more panic ridden than before, only self induced this time.

Why could he no longer feel Ritsuka calling him after such a strong wave of screams and agony had echoed through him?

Crawling back up to his bed, because he lacked the equilibrium to stand without falling, he curled up on the edge. Pulling into himself and trying to comfort the pain of burns, scrapes, cuts, and bruises, by remembering the last time he had seen Soubi.