Warnings: OOC, and you're probably going to hate Ritsu in this. Well, I don't know. Maybe.

He may be proud, but he's more sensitive than he looks; feels like he'd go down with one hit.

Yokozawa knew Masamune was insanely proud; he'd practically lived with the guy for years, and even now, they were still good enough friends—basically brothers if you asked him around Kirishima—for him to know all his old friend's habits and behaviors without needing to ask him. He didn't know what Kirishima was talking about at the time; but now, as Masamune stood in front of his apartment drenched in rain but still smiling crookedly and holding two packs of beer, he finally recognized the older man's cryptic words as unbelievably, heart-breakingly true.

"Mind if I steal in?" His first love quipped, already clambering his way in and slipping his shoes off. Unbidden, Yokozawa heard the slight tremor under layers and layers of feigned indifference, learned from years of practice.

Masamune was hurting, and very badly at that.

"…sure," Yokozawa answered slowly, moving aside to let him in and shuffling to the living room, the other male following close behind. "Not like I'd stop you anyways."

It was like he didn't even hear him; Masamune just slumped onto the sofa, cracked open a can, and started chugging it down like there was no tomorrow. Once that can was done, he took a gasping breath and began another one. Eyes narrowing, Yokozawa rushed over and pulled the can from his friend's hands.

"What are you trying to do, get so drunk you pass out?" He nearly hissed, clenching the can in his hands.

"Yes," was all he got out of him.

Inexplicably, Yokozawa knew exactly who this was about. He couldn't force Masamune to not drink; maybe if he was drunk enough, he could wheedle out the exact details of why his friend was so suddenly in his apartment instead of the apartment he shared with Ritsu Onodera. Even the name sent a wave of anger and hatred through him. He'd told the little shit over and over again that it was his fault Masamune always came to him with a broken heart, his fault that Masamune lived and breathed for him.

Of course, he couldn't say anything because 1) He was over that "jealous-unrequited-first-love stage", thanks to someone who will not be named; and 2) The time in which the couple wasn't fighting was probably the happiest in Masamune's life, if the lovesick looks he sent his boyfriend everyday were any indication.

So Yokozawa kept quiet and let his best friend drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Lots and lots of alcohol.

By the fifth drink, Masamune was completely wasted. It usually took a bit more for him to get drunk, but with the speed in which he was drinking—and the lack of food that was probably in his stomach—it didn't take long for him to get from sober and mildly calm to drooping over his beer can and hysterically miserable. Yokozawa himself had only taken small sips from his drink—he had to…go somewhere early the next morning, which rhymed with "Kirishima".

"That little…cunt," Masamune snarled, fingers denting the can with how hard he was holding it. His cheeks pressed flat against the coffee table, and Yokozawa took another casual sip. It was always good to listen quietly when Masamune went into one of his infrequent rants; any attempt at answering back was met with fists and rage like no one had ever seen before.

"He just…he—"Quite suddenly, he began crying into his beer; loud, harsh sounds that tore into Yokozawa's previously quiet apartment. Setting his drink down, Yokozawa carefully maneuvered himself into a sitting position that would allow him to listen better and offer awkward comfort in the best way he could. "He…he didn't even…"

Masamune threw his can at the wall, painting it with piss-yellow liquid, and collapsed in on himself, hands shaking terribly and face wet with tears that couldn't even stop. Yokozawa watched on in wide-eyed concern, not knowing what Masamune's impulsive boyfriend had done this time. "I…did I do something wrong?! Is that why…is that why he left me?!"

He turned to Yokozawa, who was too shocked for words; he couldn't even feel the fury that would normally be boiling in his veins at the confirmation that Onodera had hurt Masamune again. "I bought him gifts, I treated him as best I could, I showed him…" He roughly swiped at his tears with the backs of his hands, but they still couldn't stop. "I…showed him how much I love him, every day, every single day…but apparently that still wasn't enough…" Masamune whispered this last part to himself, almost as if he didn't want Yokozawa to hear it. "It still wasn't enough, I guess…"

"S-sorry…" Masamune said, barely audible, as silent sobs took over his body. He lurched up and stumbled over to the bathroom, jerking the door open. "L-let me use your bathroom. Sorry." He slammed the door shut, and the noise was able to shatter the haze that had settled over Yokozawa's mind during his friend's desperate search for answers.

A rage so overwhelming filled his body as he tried not to flip the table over or throw something. So it wasn't enough that Masamune had been hurt for ten fucking years, Onodera had to break up with him, too?! Yokozawa wanted to hurt something, or someone. Preferably the one who'd broken his friend so badly. But, no. He could still hear Masamune's wheezing sobs from the bathroom and the pain oozing out of them was just barely enough to calm him down. His best friend needed someone, so he would just have to suffice for now.

With padded feet, silently, Yokozawa shuffled over to the bathroom door and didn't even hesitate: he burst his way in, and there Masamune sat, in the bathtub and looking the most pitiful sight in the world. The shower was on and he was trembling and seemed to be having trouble even breathing correctly. Sighing quietly, Yokozawa kneeled over and turned the water off, and Masamune didn't even notice. He was still rambling to himself.

"Maybe…maybe I heard incorrectly. Maybe he didn't mean it."

Great, now he was in the denial stage.

"Do…do you think he didn't mean it, Yokozawa? I hope he didn't. Maybe he's waiting at home for me, wondering where I am and…and I…" The silent, shaking sobs started up again, and he curled into himself, gasping, like he couldn't breathe. Yokozawa placed his hand on Masamune's back, as the most form of comfort that he was able to bring.

"Why did he leave me, Yokozawa? Why?! I love him, I love him so much I would die for him, and yet he…"

Wait—

Shit, he was hyperventilating. This was just like back in college, except Masamune had had a little more control over his emotions at the time and didn't cry as much as now.

"B-breathe…" Yokozawa suggested in an even tone, not wanting to show how he was in pain as well. "Just…breathe, Masamune."

With loud, ragged gasps, Masamune slowly was able to breathe normally again, and the crying had stopped, but he was still shaking, and his eyes were wet and shiny and filled with the kind of pain that he shouldn't have to feel.

Finally, after what must have been an hour, he calmed down. In, out. In…shuddering out. In…shuddering out.

"…sorry," he said, his voice completely emotionless. "I must've ruined your night."

Yokozawa snorted, having removed his hand long ago. "You think I would've just left you like this? You'd be killed on the streets in an instant."

"…it feels like that."

"What?"

"Like I'm dying. Why…" Masamune flexed a hand over where his heart was. "Why does it hurt so much, Yokozawa?"

It hurts because you can't do anything about it. It hurts because no matter how much you wished it wasn't true, nothing will change. It hurts because…I felt like that, once.

"You're probably getting heartburn, old man," Yokozawa replied instead, a tint of amusement coloring his voice.

Masamune scoffed, weakly. "You're the old man; kids think you're 35."

"Oi, oi." Yokozawa punched his friend's arm teasingly. "Not every kid thinks that."

"Ah, yeah. What was her name again?"

"Hiyori."

"She still thinks you're her oni-chan," Masamune snickered faintly. "Even after you and Kirishima—"

"Finish that sentence and I will stab you with a fork."

"Yeah, yeah, oji-san."

Thank god I was able to calm him down.

It wouldn't heal him, not by a long-shot; but for the time being, it was enough.

Masamune was deteriorating. Any idiot could see that. In the office, at home, everywhere. He brought his rot and peeling flesh everywhere he went; anybody could see that although he was moving around, although he was working and still shouting at authors and going over to their houses to finish manuscripts until so very early in the morning, he was dying inside.

There wasn't any spark in his eyes, there wasn't any life within him. His life was now confined to work during the day, and either drinking with Yokozawa or sitting at his dining table wondering what the hell he was going to do next at night. There was no space for anything else. No friends, no free time, and especially, no love. At all. He didn't allow it.

Soon after…that happened, he'd gotten a letter on his desk from Kisa, apparently given to him by…his previous subordinate two weeks before. It wasn't a resignation letter, that was for certain.

Thank god, he thought when he read through it. Thank god he isn't leaving.

Even after he'd broken Masamune's heart, broken Masamune himself, Masamune still wanted to see him, still wanted to be with him. There was no other option. But of course, that couldn't happen.

It was a letter detailing his transfer to the literature department of Marukawa.

Thank god.

"Takano-san."

"What?"

"You've been staring at that same panel for ten minutes."

"Ah…is that so…"

"…"

"Thank you for telling me."

"Takano-san." It took all his willpower to not let his voice waver, to stand firm and—he hoped—confidently as he stared at Takano Masamune's back in front of his apartment door.

"…"

"Takano-san. Did you not h-hear me?"

Slowly, as slowly as time could ever pass, Takano turned around, and Ritsu's lip twitched as he saw the dead look in the older male's eyes.

"I heard you. What do you want?"

Ritsu took a step forward. Takano took a step back. His hand was gripping his doorknob tightly.

Just…wait a minute. Wait.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I don't. Leave me alone." Takano went to open the door, but Ritsu beat him to the punch, grabbing onto his hand before he could turn the knob. Amber eyes widened and long, pale fingers stiffened under his.

"Please. Takano-san."

"…"

"Just…give me a minute."

"…what?"

"I…hurt you. I know that. I'm not so stupid as to think I didn't. But you have to know that…" I hurt myself, too. So, so much. "…I had to do it."

"Hah?!" Takano's eyes narrowed in anger, his mouth set in angry frown.

"Takano-san, please!" Ritsu took a breath. He had to explain, at least once, so maybe Takano could see where he was coming from. He probably wouldn't forgive him, he wouldn't want to get back together, but Ritsu just needed him to listen.

"…"

"My mother called me, a month ago. It was…when I had to use the bathroom at that nice restaurant, that one time." He knew Takano understood which restaurant he was talking about. "She'd…heard about An breaking off the engagement with me, and…she threatened to disown me if I didn't—"Here he swallowed the lump in his throat, "—leave you. That's…all it was. It wasn't out of spite, or…or not wanting to be with you. Because, god, that's…" He ran his free hand through his hair, laughing dryly. "That's all I've wanted to do, for forever. I've always wanted to be with you, Masamune. Always."

"…"

There was a long silence in which Ritsu struggled not to lose his nerve and just get back into the elevator and leave the apartment building.

"…and," He felt he needed to add, "I still…want it. To be together with you, I mean. If you'll…take me back."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…why should I believe a word you say?" Ritsu's breath trembled, but Takano didn't sound particularly angry; he just sounded so tired and weary, like he couldn't lift this burden by himself and was about to crumble to pieces.

"You…you don't have to. I just…" He took his hand away, shoved it into his pocket. "…just wanted, to tell you. That's all."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Okay."

"…what?"

Masamune smiled then, a small, barely-there smile with too many jagged edges and late-nights crying and too many heartbreaks, too soon too fast, but it was a smile, and it was something. "You don't think I'd try to find you for ten years if I gave up on us so quickly, did you?"

Of course Ritsu knew that. Of course, of course. And he couldn't help but smile, too. But it faded when he thought about how his parents would react to this.

"What is it?" Masamune questioned, fingertips touching the edges of Ritsu's elbow. It was a show of unwavering support, and for that Ritsu was incomprehensibly grateful.

Ritsu leaned imperceptibly into the touch. "It's…my parents—what would they say? What would my mother say? She…I don't want to go against her wishes." His eyebrows drew together in worry, and suddenly he became rather upset thinking about it.

"Well, we're just going to have to figure that out together, won't we?"

Yes, Ritsu thought as he blushed when Masamune kissed his cheek and wrapped a firm arm around him. Together is good.

A/N: Actually, I realized that this wasn't as bad as I first thought it was. Family is insurmountably important in Asian culture, so I understand that Ritsu would most likely do something like this just to follow his parents' orders. It's heartbreaking, but—well, that's Asian parents for you, mostly. I mean in general; not that all Asian parents are like this.

By the way, that italicized line at the top; Kirishima says that to Yokozawa in "Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai" the first time they go out drinking. Just an fyi.

Oni-chan means "big brother (pretty sure)", and oji-san means "old man (pretty sure again)", just in case you guys didn't get that.

-ChemicallyEnhanced