AFTER THE RAIN

2022; panravenc.

Keisuke tries his best.

Half the days, the blood on his hands threatens to drown him; the other half, he loses himself in ink, memories long passed, and the concoction of feelings inside his chest that he doesn't know what to do with. Now and then, a pang of anguish creeps up his spine and the situation he's been in for the past months crashes once more against him.

Regret makes bile pile up on his throat, nails digging past his skin, and on those days Keisuke just wants to disappear.

It's scary.

It was then, and it is still now. Not that he would ever admit it.

(Someday, he will. To an annoying blond that follows him around like a lost puppy and gives him one more reason to wake up in the morning.)

Keisuke's never been a coward, though. He knows the weight of his sins, the guilt and burden he shares with Kazutora.

He just tries not to let it break him.

There are good days. Hours in which he indulges in his friends' grins and lets himself be the thirteen-year-old he is.

(The meals he shares with Draken, or the hang-outs at Mitsuya's to play video games. The walks around the neighbourhood with Pah, taking Pochi out with them, teasing him about the girl he likes. The spars with Mikey, back at the dojo, Emma in the background with snacks in hand.)

(He doesn't want to ever let them go.)

However, it seems like today is not a good one.

"Baji! I'll leave the conflict to the 1st Division!"

Keisuke grins at the promise of violence, anyway, because for all his straight-forwardness, he's always been a good liar.

Ignoring the absence of Ryusei and the part of himself that screams for Kazutora's presence, Keisuke turns to look at his subordinates.

"You heard the commander!" He shouts, a wild grin masking all his thoughts. "Let's show those punks from Ebisu not to mess with Toman!"

The roars of agreement echo through the shrine, and Keisuke allows himself, for a moment, to feel proud of how far Toman's come, of what he managed to create with the best of friends he'll ever have.

Maybe punching those assholes will get him to forget the stain for a bit.

(His knuckles hurt by the time he's home, but he doesn't bother to treat them. It's not like they won't heal, either way.)

Matsuno Chifuyu is interesting.

Keisuke thinks it's funny the way his hair is styled and how he was going to fight against twenty guys, even though he had no chance of winning.

But he's got the wrong idea.

Keisuke isn't someone worth following. He isn't cool. The only reason he's not in juvie is that Kazutora went and shouldered all his blame, tried to forget they were two that night, not one, and left them all behind.

(He wishes he could turn back time, more than anything; he wishes he could run away from everything, some nights, from his mistakes and the consequences of not thinking things through; he wishes it wasn't Shinichirō's bike shop and he wishes his mother hadn't had to shed tears for a fuck-up son like him. He wishes and wishes, and the sun always rises the same.)

In his room, Chifuyu looks at him like he's hung the stars on the sky or something, and although he admits he makes a mean peyoung, he's pretty sure it isn't about that.

Chifuyu's still munching on some noodles when he opens his mouth and rips out a stitch from a wound that's still not healed. "I have to admit, I've always been a bit of a hater when it comes to motorcycle gangs. But, thanks to you, I'm starting to think they're really cool…"

Hand through the hair, Keisuke stills. Ah, here it comes.

(Stop, some part of him wants to shout. Don't go there. Get out. Get out. Get out!)

He wants to rip that smile out of his face.

"I'm going to go to Toman, too."

Months ago, Keisuke would've answered with a smile of his own and a couple of teasing questions, things like: "Oh, you think you got what it takes to join us?", or "Pfft, with those fighting abilities of yours? We'd be better off with an elementary schoolgirl. Or a kitten." He would've considered it, though, because he's half-way a competent fighter, and he seems like the good sort. He would've thought: he's nice, and he seems fun; Tora will have a field day with how easy he flusters.

But it's impossible to do it now.

"No way, asshole."

Those are his words. He registers them slowly, as if he isn't really the one saying them. They leave a bad taste in his mouth, but not bad enough to take them back.

There's nothing cool about Keisuke. Nothing right about a boy who went and killed someone when he was twelve years old. About the boy who made his mom cry and stole his best friend's brother from him.

There are so many things wrong with Keisuke it's not even funny, and Chifuyu doesn't know that. He doesn't know any of that, and he never will, because Keisuke won't let this boy get involved any further in his life.

So he stands up and, brusquely, says, "I told you, I can't let you in. Eat some food, get patched up, and then go home."

I hate this.

As Keisuke opens the door, the vision of his fingers dripping with blood doesn't leave. Kazutora's absence burns. Chifuyu's eagerness burns. His chest burns.

"Forget it," he says, almost wants to whisper, but it's not as if he can drag someone else into his mess. "I don't need anyone else."

Matsuno Chifuyu is interesting. With his hair down, he looks fairly decent, and his cheeks have grown red since stepping into his home. He's a nice guy. A genuine one. He wears his heart on his sleeve and says whatever bullshit goes through his mind without a problem.

Keisuke should find it infuriating, and he does. And he will continue to do so, because―

He doesn't want anyone trying to follow him. Get close to him. Try to fill in the space that belongs to Kazutora.

(He does. He doesn't. He doesn't. But―it's hard. Lonely. And Chifuyu's offering. Chifuyu thinks he's worth following.)

(But Chifuyu's wrong, and so is Keisuke for considering it.)

(He just wants Kazutora back.)

Matsuno Chifuyu is interesting. If things were different, maybe it would've been the beginning of a friendship he would treasure along with the rest.

Clenching his fist, Keisuke lets his knees give out and sighs.

I really want to be in a biker gang with you.

What a joke.

In the next few days, Keisuke learns one very important thing about Matsuno Chifuyu: he's a persistent bastard.

It's annoying. He doesn't care if he defeated Momose or whatever the name of that guy was, the boy's sucking up to him so much it's going to cause him trouble at school, and Keisuke can't have that, no matter what.

It's late at night, a day without shit to do, or people to hang out with, when his mother asks about him.

"So," she starts, from behind the table, washing up the dishes. "What's up with that kid?"

Keisuke, who's been playing with a stray cat he named Mimi, frowns. A sigh escapes him and he tries not to look at her. "Who knows?"

"Oh, come on," she says, laughter leaving her. "He's been following you around like a lost puppy. What did you do?"

He looks at the ceiling and doesn't want to answer. He wants to enter the gang. He wants to be by my side, and he's really fucking annoying about it. (He wants to be my friend, and I already decided we couldn't be.)

"I told you, I don't know. He just started spouting some bull about wanting to be in Toman with me." He scoffs, then looks back down at Mimi, her eyes as green as he remembers Chifuyu's to be.

His mother understands, then. Of course, she does. She knows Keisuke better than himself, always knowing what's going through his mind with scarily good accuracy.

She hums and puts the last glass she was washing up on the counter. "You know, you really do resemble me a bit too much sometimes, Keisuke." Sitting on her chair, she sighs and with a hand passing through her hair, so reminiscent of the way he does it, she looks at him in a mix of fondness and exasperation. "You're not replacing Kazutora if you make a few new friends."

Am I not? When all I expect when I turn my head is him?

He stays silent. His hands tremble when they caress Mimi's head, and his breath catches as if he'd been hit by one of Mikey's kicks.

His mother sure doesn't pull any punches.

"It feels like it," he whispers.

All Keisuke wants is to go back to the days when they could laugh and joke, stealing from the convenience store and running away with mischief in their eyes, a promise of "let's do it again, some time" implicit in their laughter.

His mother smiles, tender. It's not a smile he's used to seeing from her, who's always tough and strong, determined to make it through. "Come here," she commands, opening her arms.

Keisuke does, even if he puts on a show of reticence when he realizes he has to let go of Mimi for it. It feels childish to even think it, but the phrase goes through his mind either way: Mum's hugs make everything better.

He's never wanted to make her cry. Not that night in August, and not in March, when his grades turned out to be horrible enough to repeat the school year. Not since his bastard of a father left and he'd seen her do it for the first time.

Similarly, he's never wanted to add to her burden. He knows he's a bit of a wild child―a bit of a wild card, when it comes to his impulsivity and his bad ideas, his violent tendencies and his enjoyment of them. Keisuke's heard it a million times before: from teachers to police officers, he's been dismissed as a troublemaker on countless occasions.

He's never wanted to make his mother think that of him, and that's why he didn't ask for help last summer, why he refused to tell her he couldn't understand anything in class, and why he's never really talked to her about the Tokyo Manji.

But Keisuke's thirteen, and his mother's embrace still feels like the safest place in the world.

"He doesn't seem like a bad kid, that Chifuyu," her tone is inquisitive, yet not demanding of an answer.

Keisuke knows he isn't. Chifuyu would be a great addition to their gang, and he's tried not to think about it way too many times. He refuses. Doesn't want to. Kazutora's going to come back someday, and it'll be like back then, and Keisuke doesn't want to live it with anyone but him.

(It's too much to hope for, he knows, but—he still wants it.)

"He isn't." His voice is muffled against her shoulder. Mimi rubs against his calf, purring, before walking away towards the sofa. "Still, I…"

Rubbing his back, his mother comforts Keisuke as he clenches his hands against her shirt. She knows exactly what he wants to say, what he means by that unspoken sentence. They're too much alike.

"That's fine, Keisuke. Take your time." She allows him a few minutes of silence, and with a last pat, she grins. "Now, get up! It's Tuesday, isn't it?" Keisuke looks at her, surprised. "Don't tell me you forgot?" She asks, mocking.

He doesn't waste time and gets up from her lap, rushing towards the TV while trying not to disturb the sleeping cat in the process.

"As if I could forget!" He exclaims, all his previous worries put in the back of his mind for the moment. With a shout of triumph, he looks back at her. "It's about to begin, mum!"

As she sits by his side, and Mimi climbs onto his lap, Keisuke lets himself go and enjoy the moment. He'll have time to feel embarrassed about that hug later.

A new episode of Kayo Suspense Gekijyo, his and his mother's favourite TV show, airs today.

Next time I see you, I'll kill you.

The words repeat themselves in his mind. Keisuke doesn't regret them. He can't. He made his decision and he'll stand by it.

(One night, he'd allowed himself to think about it, what it would mean to have Chifuyu by his side. In the way Ryusei isn't, in the way Kazutora cannot be. A new friend, one who cared and hung out with him at school and in the gang, who helped him study and punched people alongside him.)

(And he hated himself for wanting it.)

He'd made his opinion clear to the other boy, said it with as much seriousness as he could muster.

Of course, as he'd learnt not many days ago, Matsuno Chifuyu is a persistent bastard, one who doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word no.

He stands before him, soaked by the rain, with his pompadour unmade and hair sticking to his face.

It's infuriating.

"―I told you I'd kill you the next time I saw you, didn't I?" He huffs, not waiting for an answer. "Do you think I was kidding?" There is no other way, Keisuke sees it now. "Guess I'll have to beat it into you."

He tosses the umbrella, letting the raindrops fall on him, and readies his punch. He doesn't care about whatever comes out of Chifuyu's mouth, socks him right into it, and watches him stagger backwards.

Is that enough? Can't you leave me alone already?

"Playtime's over," he commands, as if hoping that will make Chifuyu back down. "Don't ever do this again." Stop this bullshit. Stop it.

He doesn't. What was Keisuke thinking? Of course, the bastard that's been following him around for weeks wouldn't give up after a single punch to the face.

"Hah, that was a great punch…" Chifuyu's breaths come short, but he doesn't stop. "I've been in a lot of fights, yet I've never felt anything like this before." Looking at him, the determination he carries makes Keisuke want to punch him again, and again, and again, until he learns that leaving him alone is the best decision he could ever take.

He proclaims: "I'm not gonna fall down."

Keisuke will make him.

Punching through the words Chifuyu's spouting, trying to convince him, Keisuke doesn't let himself think about it. He doesn't want to: not now, not ever. "If you want to join the Tokyo Manji Gang, do it on your own," he says, even though he knows that's not really what the other boy wants. That, for some reason, Chifuyu wants to join him instead, and the fact that he's from Toman is just part of the deal.

Fuck off already. Leave me be. Can't you see? I'm beating you to the ground.

(Why are you still here?)

But Chifuyu doesn't back down, and Keisuke punches him again. He hates guys like him the most. He hates rainy days. He hates wet socks, and how his hair tangles up, and the cold that seeps through his clothes.

He hates that he used to love running around under it with Kazutora, splashing puddles with their hoods up and plastic boots on their feet. He hates the way his throat closes up at the memories, how it didn't rain the day of Shinichirō's funeral—

But more than that, he hates that he can't make Chifuyu back down, how close his guard is to falling down around him. He hates how annoying he is, and how he couldn't care less about it.

(On days like these, he hates himself the most.)

"Matsuno Chifuyu," the blond starts, grabbing his attention. "Twelve years old…!"

He passes his hand through his hair, as he's wont to do, confused by the sudden introduction of the other. "Ah?" What is he on, now?

Still, Chifuyu doesn't stop.

"Born in 1991, in a small valley of Kyoto." Taking a deep breath, he continues: "That year, I lost my father! In order to save the life of a young girl, a complete stranger, he jumped in front of a truck and lost his life."

What the fuck do you want me to say, my condolences? He doesn't care. What the hell is that about? I don't care. Shut up. Fuck off. Let it go already!

Keisuke punches him. Of course he does. What is he thinking, spouting his tragic backstory in the middle of a beat down, as if that would make him sympathetic and leave him be?

He's not like that. He's not good. Chifuyu should engrave it in his brain, once and for all.

He punches him again. Doesn't let him talk. Doesn't want to hear it. Do yourself a favour and stop.

Of course, Chifuyu doesn't. Instead, he doubles his knees, gathers strength, and shouts: "I never even exchanged a word with my dad, but he entrusted me with an important task: to put my life on the line for someone else!"

Keisuke doesn't think that's what his father meant, because he sounded like a good one. What kind of decent parent would want their child to risk their life for someone else? Stupid.

But he doesn't say anything. It's not his place. What the hell. I shouldn't even be listening to this.

The next words that come out of Chifuyu's mouth leave him baffled.

"I've decided to follow Baji Keisuke!" Why? Why would you? "No matter what the future brings, I won't change my mind!" He shouts, clearly exhausted, yet without any intention of backing down. "If you have a problem with that… Then beat the shit out of me." And, as consciousness leaves him, Chifuyu falls to the ground.

Meanwhile, Keisuke's legs are rooted on the ground and his head is spinning, as he tries to understand how this boy has come to the conclusion that Keisuke's the one he wants to give his life to.

Him. The problem child. Keisuke.

"Dammit," he mutters, hand gripping his hair in frustration. Chifuyu's finally passed out, at least.

It's absurd. What did I do, fight some punks when they were ganging up on you? Is that all it takes? Are you kidding me!?

Keisuke crouches down and lets the rain pour.

What is this ridiculous situation?

He doesn't understand what Chifuyu finds so admirable in him that he's willing to receive a beating just to try and convince him. He's a fuck-up. He's not academically gifted, and although he can fight, there are better ones out there. He takes the worst possible decisions and throws himself at them with the arrogance of someone who's never made a mistake.

The situation he's been stuck in for the past months just makes it evident. Shinichirō is dead because of me. Because I went along with Kazutora's idea. Because I didn't stop him in time. Because I, too, wanted to steal that bike, and see Mikey's smile, and give him a gift he would never forget.

What about that is admirable? What about him is admirable!?

Sighing, Keisuke lets his eyes drift towards Chifuyu's figure. He's going to catch a cold.

I'm gonna have to take him home, won't I?

Not wasting more time, Keisuke puts him on his back, just like he's done for Mikey hundreds of times, and grabs his umbrella before he forgets, so his mother doesn't scold him again.

Chifuyu's uniform is soaked. Keisuke's is too, but somehow wet cloth against wet cloth is even more uncomfortable. He's sure there's some blood sipping through, and it's annoying. He's annoying: his fingers twitch from time to time, his hair tickles where it can touch his shoulder and he murmurs nonsense. There are two times when his left shoe almost falls, but—

But he's warm.

Keisuke can feel his heartbeat against his back, a soothing rhythm he hadn't known could affect him so much, and his cheeks gain a red he's certain doesn't come from the cold.

He doesn't even know what he's feeling. But he walks slowly, making sure Chifuyu doesn't fall, taking care of him even though it's raining and he wants to be home as soon as possible.

His last words echo in his head, and he resists the urge to laugh in disbelief.

What the hell. "No matter what the future brings, I won't change my mind"? Who says this kind of things?

It's not a scenario he thought possible. Chifuyu's destroyed his expectations for what the next few months will bring, and it's annoying, and infuriating, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit endearing.

What the hell, Chifuyu.

Keisuke's just a thirteen-year-old boy who's made so many mistakes it's laughable. He's not a person people should aspire to follow through hell and back; he already knows what happens when they do. Still―

"I've decided to follow Baji Keisuke, huh…"

Under the rain, without anyone to witness it and the weight of Chifuyu on his back, Keisuke smiles.

I'm… actually looking forward to it.

It's ridiculous. It shouldn't make him smile. His words shouldn't taste like hope on his tongue, as he repeats them under his breath. They… definitely shouldn't.

But Keisuke's just a thirteen-year-old boy, and he's been lonely, even if he doesn't want to admit it―won't, ever―and Chifuyu's words sound like promises that won't wash away under the rain.

Chifuyu's won this round, hasn't he? Even though he's the one who fell down.

Rainy days suck. He hates them. But, maybe―maybe, they're not bad from time to time.