The Problem with Perfection

by DracoMalfoy456

Perfection is not an option. It is a requirement. At least… that's what Kiyotaka Ishimaru has always been taught, from the time he was old enough to be taught anything. (Ishimondo)

10. Brotherly Bonds

*TW: mentions of absent thoughts of suicide. Worse than last time, but nothing concrete. Less of a thought of suicide, and more of a desire to just... not be alive. But still, it gets a bit heavy in this chapter, so please be careful if that's a trigger.

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Hi all!

So! This chapter! AHH! I'm super excited to share this one and I hope y'all like it as much as I do! This is prolly one of my favorite chapters, so I just... hope y'all like it. And as for the trigger warning... I will admit that, while it is only hinted at, it might be triggering and I want y'all to be careful. Feel free to message me if you want more detail about it and where it is in the chapter.

Also, this chapter starts a bit, uh... harsh, but please bear with me, especially if you're one of the people who dislikes how Mondo treats Taka. Just wait until the end of this chapter, is all I ask. :-) I do have the Mondo POV written for this chapter, but I'm not sure if there are spoilers in it or not... I can check and, if it's not that bad or if I can take the spoiler parts out without problem, maybe I can post it on my Tumblr. Let me know if you'd like to see it, ha.

Thanks for the comments! Enjoy!

(Also, I went back and added the notes from the AO3 chapters onto this story, because... why not? Ha. Some prolly don't make sense on FF . Net, but eh. Whatevs.)

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Kiyotaka is going to go insane. Absolutely, without a doubt, certifiably insane. If he isn't already, that is!

Because no sane person would be able to handle dealing with the absolute nightmare that is Mondo Owada without wanting to take a knife and stab the absolute nightmare in the back twelve hecking times-

He can feel his heart pounding, his breath ragged as he glares at the absolutely infuriating teen before him.

"They! Are! Glasses! Just! Wear them!" he grits out, thrusting his hand out towards the worst person he's ever met, about five seconds from bashing his head against the wall. When he sees that absolute heathen scowl and cross his arms, shaking his head firmly, he almost does just that.

ARGH!

"No! I ain't no fuckin' nerd!" Owada yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Luckily, so was Kiyotaka! If glaring were a competition, he is sure he'd win!

"Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don't have to wear them all the time! Just when you're reading! Stop! Being an idiot!"

"Me?! I ain't no fuckin' idiot, you're a fuckin' idiot! If ya think I'm gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I'm gonna bash yer head in!"

"Like heck you will! You're all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don't think I won't!"

"Oh, you motherfuckin'-!"

"U-uh, g-guys?"

Kiyotaka and Owada turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private conversation. Yes, so they happen to be having it in the middle of the hallway outside of their dorm rooms, but that doesn't matter! Privacy is still important, and eavesdropping is a nasty habit!

"Shut up!" the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again.

If Kiyotaka had thought that whatever had happened between them in the library would make dealing with Owada any more doable, he'd been sorely mistaken!

It's been almost two, absolutely horrible, incredibly long weeks since that day, and at first, things had been fine. They'd been great, even! He and Owada had gotten along well, and while they weren't really friends, they were, well... friendly. Kind of. And he'd been hopeful that maybe... just maybe... they could become friends. In time. And while it had terrified him— the fear of Owada abandoning him when he found out the truth still very present— he'd actually had hope that maybe... just maybe...

But then... then! Owada! It was him! He just... just... kept flip-flopping on his emotions! Kiyotaka thinks that it's called running hot and cold, in the common vernacular, and it is very, very, annoying!

At first, Kiyotaka had actually, naively believed that everything would be fine. He had thought that they were getting along great, that things were finally, finally okay, after days and weeks and months and years of it not being okay. And yeah, he kept getting these weird sensations in his stomach when he was around the other teen, kept feeling like the ground was about to drop out from under his feet whenever he saw the biker, but he had been fine! He'd been handling it well!

After all. He'd realized, that first night, not sleeping a wink as his mind endlessly went over what had happened— from the fact that he'd broken his long-time promise to himself, to the fact that Owada hadn't told him to leave him the heck alone because of it, to the fact that they were now kind of, sort of, maybe... friends?!— he'd realized that he'd have to keep whatever it was that was going on inside him hidden from Owada. Because if the biker found out... if he knew just how much his proximity earlier had affected him... if he knew the thoughts that Kiyotaka had had that night, breath hitching, remembering being so close to Owada, remembering what it was like to be pressed against the pillar by him, every sense engulfed by him, wanting to get somehow closer, wanting more, more, more, more-

The words, 'get the hell away from me, you f*g!' rang through his head, and he knew. He knew. He knows-

He. He isn't. He's not. Not... not. But, well. He supposes it doesn't matter, really, what he is and what he is not. Because if Owada found out... if he ever had any idea at all... well. It wouldn't matter what, exactly, he was or is. Because it would be all over. He knows that more than he knows anything else.

And he just... he couldn't handle that.

So, he'd stuffed it down. He'd kept it inside. It burned him, scalded him, made his insides flare with what he now knows is called butterflies (thank you, internet, for explaining that one, even though this is decidedly not a crush), but he'd kept it firmly to himself, and for the first few days it had been good. It had been fine. Great, even. Owada would smile at him, looking happy and relaxed for once, and it was good. He could handle whatever was going on inside him, knew that the internet was wrong, he didn't even know why he'd bothered using it to look anything up, it was such a liar-

And then Owada had changed. Like a switch was flipped. Kiyotaka hadn't even done anything!

One minute, things had been fine. They'd been close, sitting pressed together on his couch while Kiyotaka read Owada one of the stories their teacher had assigned, realizing that it was easier for the biker to focus on while they waited for the nurse to contact an optometrist, since yeah, Owada's close up vision was a little off... and things had been fine. They'd been relaxed, in Kiyotaka's room (he'd flushed brightly when the biker had awkwardly offered that they go to his room to study, furiously stuffing the nonsensical reaction to the words down as he'd nodded almost maniacally, strangely excited to have his first guest over to his room), Owada looking calmer than he'd ever seen him before. The biker had even let his head fall onto Kiyotaka's shoulder, eyes closed and looking so peaceful it had made his heart clench, but he'd made sure to keep his voice steady and even, which he'd done perfectly. There was nothing, at all, to indicate anything. Not that there was anything to indicate! Because there wasn't!

But then, without any warning, Owada had tensed, Kiyotaka looking down at the biker with a small frown on his face, mouth open partially to ask if he was okay. Before he had any hope of doing that, however, Owada's eyes had shot open as the teen scrambled to his feet, cheeks bright red, stammering out something that made absolutely no sense about his bike, before storming out of the room, leaving Kiyotaka to stare after him in bewilderment. He had supposed, at the time, that Owada just... didn't like Edgar Allen Poe...?

He'd done his best to put the weird event out of his mind, but he couldn't stop how sick his stomach had felt all night long, no matter what he'd tried to do to settle it. He told himself it would be better the next day, that Owada probably just had a prior engagement that he'd forgotten about, that it was fine. That Owada couldn't possibly know, there was nothing to know, he'd been so careful, he couldn't possibly have figured anything out-!

But then. The next day, when he'd approached Owada after their first class, like they'd taken to doing, Owada had snarled at him to 'get the fuck away from me, freak!' before running off, leaving a wide eyed Kiyotaka staring after him, no idea what had just happened or what he'd done to deserve it.

After a minute, he'd been approached by Naegi and Fujisaki, both of them asking if he was alright. He'd snapped out of his daze, then, and had just smiled tightly, nodding once. They'd not looked convinced and had insisted they walk with him to their next class, which he'd reluctantly acquiesced, trailing the two as they tried to involve him in idle conversation. He'd attempted to participate, but his heart was in it even less than usual, and he had been secretly relieved when he'd arrived at their next class.

And then he had promptly felt sick again when— following the teen storming into class five minutes late— Owada had refused to look at him, glaring at the board the entire class. And then, as soon as the bell rang, had stormed out of the room, not needing to clean anything up since he'd never taken any of his supplies out. Kiyotaka could only stare after him, eyes wide, heart aching so strangely in his chest.

And that was how the rest of the day had followed.

It wasn't until Kiyotaka— feeling very confused and very hurt— had cornered the biker outside his room that night, forcing the teen to talk to him, that they'd managed to resolve things. Sort of. Maybe. They'd had a huge shouting match that had garnered the attention of nearly their entire class, even Togami gracing them with his presence as he watched their fighting with a single raised eyebrow, but by the end of it, they'd managed to reach a tentative truce.

In that Owada had screamed 'fuckin' fine, ya goddamn bastard! I'll fuckin' meet you and do that goddamn fuckin' assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!' before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud his ears were still ringing several minutes later. And then Kiyotaka— heart hurting and mind so very, very confused— had hastily retreated to his own room, feeling very awkward at the concerned stares his classmates were giving him.

And he had then proceeded to spend a restless night dreading the meeting, wondering what, on Earth, had possessed him to force the angry biker to meet with him, knowing that it would only end in tears, most definitely his own.

He'd actually wondered, after the third sleepless hour, if maybe he was, in fact, a masochist. Because that was the only reason that he could think of for why he kept doing this to himself.

But then. Then. Kiyotaka had gotten up, barely an hour of sleep under his belt but still having to somehow eat breakfast and head to class without passing out, mind a complete mess worrying over the pain that seeing Owada angry at him would bring, wondering what he'd done wrong, if he'd somehow failed at hiding his non-existent feelings, knowing he hadn't because he'd come to that conclusion after the fifth sleepless hour, everything roiling and boiling and aching and breaking and horrible and-

Only for Owada to be completely fine again.

The biker had walked into home room, had given Kiyotaka a sheepish smile, and had spent the rest of the class doodling absently in the notebook Kiyotaka had helped him pick out at the school store. Owada had then waited for him after the class ended, talking to him nonchalantly, like nothing had happened, saying that the nurse had finally gotten in contact with an optometrist and that he had an appointment to see the doctor the next day at 3:00, asking if he wanted to come with. And Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka, absolutely flummoxed, had stammered out an acceptance, his stomach churning when Owada had turned to smile at him, the little one that made everything in him short circuit, and he'd been so flustered that he'd forgotten that he was supposed to be mad at Owada.

And then. The next day, after his optometrist appointment, which had confirmed that Owada would need prescription reading glasses, which Kiyotaka had helped him pick out, a very smart pair that Kiyotaka personally felt looked very fetching on him-

Owada changed mood. Again. And they'd had another fight. Again. And then they'd made up. Again.

Over. And over. And over.

Kirigiri had even come up to him at one point, asking him calmly what had happened, and he'd just given the girl a helpless look, having utterly no idea, Owada an absolute mystery to him.

And now? Now, Kiyotaka is holding the glasses that Mondo freaking Owada had picked out and had said he'd kind of liked, even if he did look a bit like a nerd, wanting to slam his head into the wall until he no longer has to deal with frustrating bikers or meddling, overly concerned classmates.

Is this... is this what having friends is like? Is this what it feels like, to have a friend? If so, he wishes he could take it back, because god, is it awful! He's not missed out on anything, really!

The worst part is, they're probably not even friends. Even if he really, really wants to be. How… h-how terribly pathetic…

"Look. Owada-kun," Kiyotaka spits, heart clenching, wanting to crush the stupid glasses in his hand but knowing he won't, "I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind?!"

"I ain't changed shit! I never fuckin' agreed ta wear fuckin' glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!"

Eugh! How! Dare! He! He's lying, they both know he's lying, and yet he is still doing it! When Owada tries to storm away, to leave the hallway like he'd originally planned on before Kiyotaka had accosted him, Kiyotaka feels his hand shoot out, grabbing the biker's muscular arm and holding tight, preventing him from moving. His arm nearly gets yanked out of the socket with how hard Owada pulls at the appendage, but he doesn't let go, his other hand still carefully holding the glasses case.

"You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn't be long enough!"

"Oh, I'm so wounded, please don't call me anymore fuckin' names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!" Owada snarls, sarcasm so thick even Kiyotaka has no trouble picking up on it. "Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin' assfucker! Learn some better fuckin' insults or don't even bother tryin' ta play!"

"Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-"

"Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin' better than me?! I told ya already, y'ain't goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain't no shit at all!"

"I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I'm not... feces, then you're not even worth anything at all! Y-you're... you're an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it's a miracle you think you're relevant at all!"

"What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!"

Kiyotaka opens his mouth to fire back, his chest heaving, barely an inch of space between the pair, Kiyotaka still holding onto Owada's arm, almost like his life depends upon it, barely able to think he is so mad, and angry, and hurt-

But before he can say the— utterly witty, he assures you— rejoinder, the other voice pipes up again, less hesitant this time.

"Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!"

Owada turns to their eavesdropper, eyes dark, snarling at the woefully average boy. Naegi—to his credit— despite looking very pale, doesn't cower down from the glare Owada gives him, for once. If he were capable of feeling any positive emotion at all at the moment, he'd feel proud of the boy. Instead, he's just mindlessly furious, and that kind of blocks out everything else.

"I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!"

Naegi frowns, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything else before Owada turns back to Kiyotaka, eyes practically spiting fire, staring so deep into his own it's almost like it's a physical touch. It takes Kiyotaka's breath away for one single, solitary second, the light reflecting off Owada in such a way to make him look almost... almost… well.

Ethereal.

Otherworldly.

Beautiful.

But he promptly pushes the thought out of his mind (though he can't quite push the way his gut roils with the lingering sensation away). There's no beauty to be found in anger and rage. Only death and destruction and anguish. Despair. Things that Kiyotaka, moral as he is, firmly detests.

He can hear Naegi sigh softly, even as Owada opens his mouth to snarl at him, and he takes a moment to be glad that— despite how loud they're being (though he's managed to control his volume enough to not, technically, be yelling, as he still refuses to break the 'no yelling in the halls' rule)— they only have one witness at the moment. It's progress...?

Or maybe most of their classmates have just given up caring about them, content to let them tear each other apart into little pieces until there is nothing left…

(He can still hear Togami's bored, drawling, droll tone as it floated down the hall during their previous fight, stating that 'will you two just sleep together already? Your explosive foreplay is getting very tiresome to be subjected to, I think I can safely say for all of us.' He hadn't, at the time, actually known what that meant, but by the way Owada had snarled that he 'ain't fuckin' gay, ya fuckin' pansy ass motherfucker,' he realized pretty quick it wasn't something wholesome. And when he'd, stupidly, looked it up later, he'd blushed so hard he was extremely glad that he'd been alone in the library at the time. Did- did their classmates really think that they- grk! He'd been so mortified, resolved to not think of such a detestable thing any longer but, to his great displeasure, he'd not been able to get the thought of it out of his head, his mind wondering... wondering...)

"You think yer so perfect, don't ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an' I can fuckin' prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin' week. Y'ain't better than me, ya shit fuck. Y'ain't nothin'," Owada hisses, dragging his attention back to the biker, the words making something deep within him ache something fierce to hear. But, despite his distraction, he does his best to mask the pain by glaring. He can feel pressure behind his eyes, a telltale sign that tears are building up, but he absolutely refuses to even let them even gather. He won't give the biker the satisfaction.

"What?! Y-you guys aren't going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!"

Owada breaks his menacing glaring contest to shoot Naegi a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Kiyotaka, chest heaving with the strain.

(He really is breathtaking like this...)

"Nah. Ground floor, there's a sauna. Ya know it?"

Kiyotaka blinks, sluggish, before nodding slowly. Ah, y-yes? Yes, he does? He has no idea why a school, of all places, has such a room, but he's actually used it once or twice— when it had been empty, of course. It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up, but once he does, he realizes what Owada is talking about. And he grins, realizing that this is, in fact, a competition he has a good chance of winning!

After all, who has better endurance and dedication than him?!

"Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!"

Despite his anger, the tiny uptick of Owada's lips at his words make something flutter in his chest. Not... not butterflies, the internet was wrong about that, but... but... maybe, possibly... some moths?

"Yer fuckin' on. And you," Owada points to Naegi— who 'eeps' at the gesture— not looking away from Kiyotaka for a single second, "will be our witness. Got it?!"

Kiyotaka doesn't look away from Owada either, but he can hear the way Naegi splutters, the boy clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Owada and himself are.

"W-what?! Now?! B-but it's so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!"

"Yes! It is an excellent idea!" Kiyotaka exclaims, eyes bright and feverish, while Owada snarls, at the exact same time, "yes, ya fuckin' moron, it's a fuckin' great idea!"

Uncomfortable at them agreeing on something, he just watches (feeling only slightly bereft) as Owada finally tears his eyes away, the biker storming off in the direction of the sauna. Kiyotaka— never one to be outdone— hastily follows, head held high as he marches determinedly towards the room, keeping pace with the larger teen. Naegi— seeming very reluctant— follows after them at a much more sedate pace.

By the time they get to the bath house— a relatively short journey from their dorms— nerves have taken root in Kiyotaka's stomach, but he firmly ignores them as the trio enters the bath, which is thankfully deserted this time of night. Owada puts out a sign that reads 'closed for repairs' in front of the entrance to the bath house which, under normal circumstances, would offend Kiyotaka and his Hall Monitor sensibilities.

But, in this scenario, with how many emotions are roiling through his gut, he figures it's probably for the best. Better that no one (other than poor Naegi) be witness to this shameful display of machismo...

With that taken care of, Owada turns to Kiyotaka and points a finger at him.

"Alright, here's the fuckin' terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin' bitch ass loser who ain't worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain't allowed ta touch the other or do anythin' ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an' we're gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!"

Kiyotaka feels his eyes widen at the last term, shaking his head sharply once. He may not spend much time in the sauna, finding it delightful but also regretfully a waste of time, but even he knows how foolish trying that last rule would be! It would practically be suicide!

"I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!"

(Because the other teen is so flushed with anger, he doesn't notice the embarrassed flush that fills Owada's face.

It's probably for the better.)

Sneering, Owada nods tensely, storming over to the water cooler in the corner.

"Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we're fuckin' doin' this shit."

With that, Owada grabs a paper cup and downs some water, so impossibly tense. Kiyotaka can't help the way he stares but is spurned into action when he hears Naegi shift awkwardly beside him. A-ah... he should be getting ready-!

With only a hint of embarrassment, Kiyotaka carefully removes his pristine uniform, his stomach clenching with the knowledge his scars are on display, but not caring about it overly much. Both of the teens in the room have seen him shirtless, either while in the gym changing room or in the exercise room, so it's not like they've never seen them before.

Still, while he isn't a particularly shy person, nudity not much of a hinderance for him (it's just a naked body, what's the big deal?), he doesn't remove his briefs. It... probably would be better to leave these on, wouldn't it? He wouldn't want any, er... problems... occurring otherwise! Biting his lip, he carefully wraps a towel around his waist, puts his belongings (including the glasses case he is still, for some unknown reason, holding) into a locker, and turns abruptly to face the water cooler, where Owada is still lingering, fully clothed.

He can feel himself heat up as his eyes meet intense lavender ones, the sensation lingering even after Owada hastily looks away, the teen straightening up and storming over to a locker himself, where he busies himself with putting some of his things away. Kiyotaka is frozen for a split second, before stiffly marching over to the water cooler himself, realizing he's going to need to be well hydrated for their upcoming challenge. But… well. Owada hadn't been... watching him undress... had he...?

Ha! Haha! Hahaha! What a foolish thought!

He pushes the thought away, but still can't quite manage to make the heat in his belly at the idea go away. It's... it's a good thing he has his briefs and the towel on... grk!

Finally, after the five minutes have passed, both teens are ready.

Or… so he thought.

"Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It's suicide!" Kiyotaka hears himself exclaim before he consciously thinks to say it. But, even if he had taken the time to think about it, he'd probably say the exact same thing. After all, while he is still feeling the residual anger from their fight, enough time has passed in relative peace that some rationality has crept back in. And the part of himself that does, in fact, care about Owada (platonically! Strictly platonically!) is starting to get concerned. Because— despite what he had thought the teen was doing while he'd been drinking his water— it seems that Owada is, in fact, planning to enter the sauna fully clothed.

Owada just sneers at him, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Just 'cuz yer a fuckin' pansy ass bitch don't mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin' chicken?!"

Face flushing, Kiyotaka doesn't even bother to answer, just yanks open the door and enters the sauna stubbornly.

This has got to be, hands down, the stupidest thing he's ever done.

And yet... here he is.

It's all stupid Owada's fault.

The heat of the sauna blasts him immediately, causing sweat to form a thin layer over his skin. Gooseflesh is already starting to rise, even as he strides over to the bench, taking a seat stiffly. His eyes can't help being drawn to Owada as the other teen stiffly marches in, sliding the door shut behind him, taking a heavy seat on the bench a foot away from him.

The time, currently, is 8:50, which gives them an hour and ten minutes until curfew to do this challenge. That should give them plenty of time before curfew for him to win this contest and make Owada eat his words! Nothing will make him give up! He will never back down! He settles into the sauna, trading jabs with Owada, feeling very confident in his abilities indeed!

By the tenth minute, Kiyotaka is starting to feel... a little woozy... but he can handle it! He laughs at Owada, who taunts that he should just give up now. Hahaha! Kiyotaka Ishimaru is not a quitter, thank you very much! He says as much to Owada, who just glares back.

After half an hour, that woozy feeling has expanded and is now... kind of making him feel sick... b-but he is fine! Ahaha! Perfectly fine! He tells Owada this fact, the biker glaring at him, face flushed so... so beautifully...

After the fifty-minute mark, Kiyotaka is starting to feel... cold... that's... that's probably not good… right? Owada says as much, his lavender eyes looking at him with what he thinks may be... may be concern but... but that's... ridiculous! That... Owada wouldn't be concerned about... about him...

"Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won't judge..." he hears himself mumble, the exhaustion he's feeling making it hard to think, let alone produce words. Owada tries to snort but seems to not have much strength for it.

"N-nah... I'm... I'm... I'm good," the biker mutters back, looking at him intensely. Kiyotaka has to look away, but only because his head is swimming far too much for this, nothing else... Owada says something else, and he thinks he replies back, something about being born with a red face, but he... he can't quite remember...

After an hour and five minutes, Kiyotaka can hear the warning bell for curfew go off, but he's never cared less about the rules. Rules... who... who needs them? Not... not him... not when he's... so close... to winning...

"U-uh guys? It's almost curfew, shouldn't you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don't you think you've done enough?"

Kiyotaka blinks as he looks towards the window of the sauna, the muffled words reaching his ears easily. When the meaning actually reaches his brain, he feels his anger flare again. Give... up...?! Who does that heathen think he is?!

"Shut up!" he barks, at the same time Owada does, making him blink at how they're both on the same page again.

Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... he replies back, words he can't quite hold onto but knows they're important... something about competitions and... and winning... he thinks Owada then maybe says something about... the gates of... of hell?

Eventually, Naegi leaves (probably the smartest thing any of them have done all night), leaving Kiyotaka and Owada behind, steadily baking their brains out, hot, and cold, and aching all over.

And then… it's just a waiting game for which of them will break first.

The time slips away from him, then. As such, he doesn't know how much later it is, but at one point he feels himself close his eyes. He's just so... so tired... not even just physically, but mentally... this entire time he's been pushing himself to his max... his body, obviously, but his mind... he...

He's not built to sustain so much built-up anger and rage. He's not made for such feelings to linger and fester within him. He hates anger for many reasons, but the biggest one is how it makes him feel inside. It makes him want to lose control... to give up his control, to let go and not care so much... to just... just...

Give up entirely...

"Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don't... don't look so good..."

Kiyotaka lets out a soft laugh, which is more like a forceless puff of air, and somehow finds the strength to loll his head over to face Owada. It takes a lot more strength than it probably should, but he manages to flutter his eyelids open and realizes he can't quite breathe anymore.

At some point over the last hour and some odd minutes, Owada's hair had been knocked out of that horrible (wonderful) hair style he usually keeps it in. The surprisingly long strands of hair dangle limply in front of Owada's face, making him look... look...

"I- I'm... I'm fine, I..."

Is he saying words? He isn't... isn't too sure... all he can see is... is Owada... his face, red, his... his eyes... lavender... his… his lips...

"Shit... man... no, y'ain't. I know my... my limits. I've got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up..."

Despite the fact that he's fairly certain there is no water left in his body, he can feel tears well up in his eyes for reasons that are too stupid to mention. Give... give up? No… n-no… he… h-he can't... give up... he has to... has to...

"Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?"

Oh... had he been... speaking? He hadn't... hadn't realized...

"I can't... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name..."

Owada furrows his eyebrows, his lips... his lips... turned down...

"Yer family... name? What… what about it?"

Kiyotaka blinks, the words hazy in his mind as he thinks about everything. His family name... what isn't it about?

"I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather..."

"What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin' 'bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer 'bout ta... ta fuckin' pass out... why can't ya just... just give up, man?"

Kiyotaka doesn't hear him. He's lost, lost in his memories, lost in the world that plagues him every night, trapped in the place he's made for himself there. Fear... inadequacy... the burning knowledge that it's all up to him to fix it, to make it better, to make it- it right-! He can't give up, he's… he's not allowed to give up, giving up is wrong, and immoral, and- and he's not wrong! He's not... not immoral... he's better... better than his grandfather... better than himself... better... than...

"Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin' me... what the hell does… does any a' that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin'... Ultimate Moral Compass... 'course yer not- not... immoral..."

But he is, he is... he's worthless, he's nothing... his grandfather... he'd done so many terrible things, had hurt so many people... he'd ruined... ruined Japan... everyone hated him... hated Kiyotaka... he has to do better... to be better... to fix... his grandfather's... mistakes...

"Dude... y'ain't... ain't yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an' frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it's... too much..."

Nnnn- n-no! H-he... he can't... can't admit... weakness... god he's so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they're right about him, they're all so... so right... he'll never... amount to- to anything... he's worthless... pathetic... scum...

"Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y'ain't... none a' that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn't leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn't ya leave..."

Him... leave? Why? Where would he... go...? He's n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can he... do? He doesn't... w-wanna... be... alone...

"Fuckin'... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I'm here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I'm right... right here..."

No... no... he's alone, he's alone. Everyone... always leaves... his mother... his grandfather... even his father would leave... if he could... he's never... never understood him. No one... understands him... he doesn't... even... understand... himself...

"I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain't ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin'... ta prove?"

Everything. Everything. Every… everything…

He has to prove them... wrong. He has to prove... that he can do this. If he... if he gives up... i-if he lets himself give up... then he fails. He fails, he fails, he fails, he fails, he fails. He c-can't... fail, he can't... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of him...?

"Ain't gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What's so wrong... with that?"

Everything. Everything. Everything.

E-everything... is wrong with... Kiyotaka... h-he's too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... h-he hurts... hurts his own eyes... he hates... l-looking at himself... hates... b-being himself... if he could... be someone else... h-he would... gladly...

"I wouldn't. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin'... somethin' special... I thought I... I hated that 'bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don't deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you..."

H-he's not... wonderful. He's not... anything. T-the children... they hated him... t-they all... hated him. His f-father... hates him. His mother... if she could s-see him... now... s-she'd hate him... too. Why... w-why does he bother... trying...? W-why... why doesn't he just... g-give up...

"Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don't hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit..."

Kill... himself? No... he's not- not that weak... not anymore... not… n-not again... but maybe... maybe… m-maybe it would be better. If he weren't... weren't…

Alive...

"What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin'... dammit! Ya can't be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can't..."

He is. He is. H-he is. If he weren't... so weak. If he weren't... s-so afraid. He knows... k-knows how to fix it... a-all of it. How to… t-to make it better. His father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And he... he...

He'd be...

He'd be...

Dead...

"Okay. That's it. This ain't... fuckin' worth it. If y'ain't... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin'... I fuckin' will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c'mon, man. Let's… let's get outta here."

Suddenly, Kiyotaka gets snapped out of the daze he'd entered when he feels strong arms wrap around his back, pulling him up, up, up. His eyes are so dry, they sting, but he blinks anyway and tries to struggle against the body that is now dragging him away. What... what is happening... who...

The first blast of cool air hitting him is like a shock to his system. He gasps, his legs buckling, but whoever is dragging him barely stops. They just adjust themselves and take more of his weight, dragging him over to a bench in the corner. He gets practically thrown down onto it, his legs tangling under him, and he would have fallen over if those warm hands weren't there, holding him steady.

"Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn't ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I'll be right back."

And then the hands are gone, and he feels... he feels... he wants to cry, but his eyes are so impossibly dry... how… h-how pathetic...

He misses the hands... he wants them to come back... but they won't... they won't, they won't, they won't... he's alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves him in the end... why would he expect anything different... why would he expect-

"Shit, Kiyotaka, I'm here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c'mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can't... ya can't fuckin' die on me, man... f-fuck..."

He startles when he feels a warm pressure press against his neck, lifting his head up, up, up, so high it hurts, he hates it, he struggles, but he's too weak, weak, weak, why is he so weak, he needs to... to be stronger... to be... better...

"Shh... hey, it's okay. Y'ain't fuckin' weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c'mon. Stop fightin' me. Let me take care a' you. You... you've been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you..."

He feels something get pressed against his lips and, instinctively, he wants to fight against it. Wants to push it away. He tries to, feeble and weak, but he tries. But he can hear words in his ear, humming softly, shushing him, telling him that it's okay, that they're here, that he's not alone... he's not... not alone...

"Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I'm beggin' ya man... just... drink some water..."

That gruff voice, he... he knows it... he... he trusts it...

Against his better judgement, Kiyotaka opens his lips, and startles again when he feels something cold and wet touch his tongue. He almost gags, but then the thing against his lips is gone and he feels a warm hand touch his back. It's… it's the- the hand... it… it's back...

"Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That's it, nice an' easy... I'm gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot."

Before he can really process the words, he feels the thing press against his lips again, the warmth against his neck back. Ah... it's that hand, isn't it? It's holding his head... how queer...

This time, when the voice asks him to open up, he does so immediately. And this time, when the cool liquid touches his tongue, he doesn't panic. He just... sips it. He feels his throat working, moving, swallowing the liquid, and suddenly... suddenly, he realizes that he is so very, very thirsty. He lets out a noise, desperate and needy, and tries to lift his hand to force the water (because that's what the liquid is, it's water, that's right) down faster, but the voice stops him.

"Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can't drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won't let you down. Not again. I… I promise."

Well... he does... does trust the voice...

The thing (cup, it's a cup) is back against his lips and the water is back too, and this time he drinks steadily. He wants to gulp it down, can't get enough of it, but the hands and voice (they belong together, the same person, he knows this person) don't let him. They make him go slow, easy, not too much.

Soon, the cup is empty, and he's still thirsty. Still needs more. The hands leave, then, and he cries at their disappearance. They return quick, and he hears the voice in his ear, saying, "aw, shit, I'm just getting more water, alright? I'll be right back, I promise," and when the hands leave again, the voice doesn't. It keeps talking, saying that it's right there, it will be right back, it promises...

And then the hands are back. And the cup is back. And the water is back. And he drinks. And he drinks. And he drinks.

He doesn't know how long this goes on, but eventually, his head starts to clear of the fog that has descended over it. He blinks, rapidly, and realizes that he's still in the bath house. His body is shaking, chill attacking him since he's half naked, why is he half naked?! Oh, right, the contest, he and Owada- wait, Owada? Oh, right, they were angry, and they'd challenged each other to a battle of endurance and they'd gone to the sauna and it had been so hot and he'd felt so tired and had he been saying things he thinks he had been saying things but he can't remember what he'd said but how did he get out he doesn't remember and where did Owada go and what-

It's around that time that almost everything floods back, and he feels himself sit up straight, startling the body (OWADA!) that is sitting, hunched over, beside him. The body— Owada!— shifts, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin' scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was 'bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?"

Kiyo... Taka?! What?! Why is Owada... why is he... he calling him by... his first... name...

And there. That is when everything comes back. Well… for the most part.

Would it be considered overly dramatic to drown himself in the bath?

"Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!"

He blinks and realizes he had just stood, his body shaking and his legs about to collapse. They don't, though, and he just turns wide eyes onto Owada, who stares with wide eyes right on back.

"W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn't... oh god..."

Kiyotaka feels weak and he can feel himself begin to sway. Before he can fall, Owada is there, his warm hands (hands) grabbing his shoulders tightly, his voice (voice!) saying words.

"What the fuck... aw, shit, y'ain't better. Okay, that's it. I'm takin' ya ta the fuckin' nurse. Goddamnit..."

When Owada tries to move him, though, he finds some strength and resists. He pulls as harshly as he can away from the bruising grip and— since Owada hadn't been expecting even his meager strength— actually manages to pull away from the biker. Unfortunately, since his legs are still far too weak, he can't catch himself and tumbles harshly into the row of lockers, letting out a noise of pain as his arm slams into the metal, collapsing to the ground immediately after. Ow...

"Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin' alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein' an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!"

Kiyotaka glares (well, tries to glare, he's still a little out of it and can't quite put his usual strength behind it) at the biker, warning him without words to not come any closer. Owada ignores the silent message and kneels down before him, eyes bleeding concern. Kiyotaka has never seen the biker look so worried before, and it's that— more than anything— that cuts through the fog. He blinks, and his racing mind starts to put things into place...

"W-wait! I don't... dang it. I don't need to go to the- t-the nurse! I'm just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!" he says, chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Owada looks at him firmly, the look lasting several seconds, before he nods stiffly.

"Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck..."

Owada stands, then, and heads to the water cooler again. He fills up two paper cups before heading back. He hands one to Kiyotaka and then, apropos of nothing, takes a heavy seat beside Kiyotaka, so close they're touching, and drinks his own water calmly. It's around then that Kiyotaka realizes that the biker had taken off his leather duster at some point. He hadn't seen him do that... so… when...? In the sauna or...

"Dude. Drink. Or I'm draggin' ya ta the nurse, kickin' an' screamin'. Don't think I won't," Owada rumbles, a moment later, startling Kiyotaka out of his reverie. He glares half-heartedly at the biker but doesn't challenge him, knowing the validity of the command. Instead, he just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his mind racing as he tries to place the events of the last hour plus into a logical order, trying to figure out what is real and what isn't real...

It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to start feeling somewhat normal again. Owada doesn't rush him, just sits silently beside him, drinking his own cup of water carefully. Neither of them says a single thing more until both cups are empty, Kiyotaka staring blankly into his own, barren cup. He... he remembers pretty much everything that had happened in the room, now. The sauna. But he... had he actually been...

"O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn't, um. Say anything strange. Did I?" Kiyotaka eventually manages to bite out, feeling cold all over. He vaguely remembers his lips moving, words coming out, but the words themselves... they're like smoke. He can only remember feelings, flashes of memories; he doesn't remember what he actually said. He does remember Owada's replies, though... but he's hoping against hope that maybe he's misremembering those, too...

Owada doesn't say anything for an awfully long time. Kiyotaka is about to give up, to take it back, when Owada finally speaks, his voice low and rumbling. Like thunder...

"That depends. What do ya remember?"

He bites his lips carefully as he contemplates the question. He… he could lie. Could say he doesn't remember anything, anything at all. But... he glances over at Owada, heart clenching at the blank expression he sees there, far different from the open concern from a few minutes before and he... he's too weak...

"I'm… I'm not sure. It's all... fuzzy. I can't quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts." He pauses, hands shaking. He looks at the ground. He can't look at Owada during what he's about to say. He can't bear to see the rejection… "But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!"

Halfway through his sentence he loses his nerve, his heart clenching painfully as his throat gets thick. He tries to play it off, to play it cool, but he can tell by how tense Owada is that he fails miserably. Oh... oh god... h-he... he's been doing so well...

Before he can descend into panic, he hears Owada sigh, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. From the corner of his eye, he sees Owada turn to look at him, a wry smile on his face. His heart starts racing...

"Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don't remember what you said?" Owada asks casually, head tilted, like he hadn't just said something that makes Kiyotaka's entire world tilt sideways. Feeling numb, Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, staring down at his hands. This entire situation is so very, very strange indeed...

"Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren't exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin' bits a' nonsense. Could barely make sense a' ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin'... somethin' 'bout yer grandfather. 'Bout needin' ta right his wrongs. An' then there was somethin' 'bout other kids? An' hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don't understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin'. An' 'bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin' bullshit, ya shouldn't fuckin' hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a' other stuff too. 'Bout not givin' up, 'bout havin' ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don't really 'member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla' that?"

The silence turns oppressive as Owada stares at him, lavender eyes boring holes into him, straight into the heart of him, and Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka, he... h-he...

"Aw, shit," he hears Owada mutter, which just makes him cry harder. He tries to stifle them, tries to push them down but he... he can't! God, he's so weak... so pathetic-! How could he have said those things, how could he- could he have told?! Oh, God. Owada knew. Owada knows, he knows, he knows about his grandfather, about his shame, his secret, oh god-!

"Please, man, don't cry, shit, I'm sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here."

He startles when he feels an arm wrap around him, pulling him to a warm chest, firm and tight, and he begins to struggle, panic filling him. Oh, god, Owada is going to kill him, he's going to hurt him, he messed up and now everything is ruined and he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sor-

"Shhh. Shh, c'mon. It's okay, Kiyotaka. I'm here. Y'ain't alone. I got you. Ain't got nothin' ta 'pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We're both okay."

The arms around him don't release, they just keep on holding him, touching him, and after a minute... after a minute, he... he stops struggling. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are leaking, and everything hurts again. His head is all fuzzy and he all he wants is to curl up and sleep for a thousand years, to never have to deal with this moment and his no-longer-secret shame.

But Owada is there, and he's holding him. Arms tight, wrapped around his torso, holding him. Hugging him. It... he hasn't been held— hugged— in so long... his father never has time, he doesn't have anyone else who cares, who'd want to do such a thing, and... and it- it feels... it feels so nice...

Kiyotaka buries his head into the warm chest in front of him and he just... lets go. All the tears and anguish and pain inside of him. He lets it go and cries, and cries, and cries, in a way he hasn't allowed himself to do in years. He cries for himself and all that he has lost, and all that he fears he will never have, despite all his plans and goals and hard work. He cries for his mother, her absence an aching hole within him, her memory hurting as much as it helps. He cries for his father, the man a living ghost, working so hard to try and keep them afloat but unable to in the most soul crushing of ways. He cries for his grandfather, the man losing everything, everything, everything, and while it was entirely his own fault, he can't help the pain he feels when he thinks of the man, his memory and legacy tainted beyond repair. And he cries for the world, for all the wrongs he wants to correct, all the flaws he wants to fix, if only he were stronger, braver, better...

He cries, and he cries, and he cries. And Owada... Mondo...

Mondo just holds him and he lets him.

He doesn't know how much later it is when he finally stops, the tears finally slowing, his body relaxing more and more until there's not an ounce of tension left. He... he hasn't let himself cry like this for... god. Years. Not since before... before his mother. Since then, he's always forced himself to keep it in. To hold it inside. To keep moving, keep marching, keep... keep going. Endlessly, onward, forever. He was so ashamed of his tears when they would come. He'd hate himself for his weakness, his shame. He'd force them away, force them down, force himself to never allow himself such a moment of weakness. Not even during his mother funeral, meager as it had been, had he let himself cry unrestrained. He'd cried, yes, but he... he'd forced himself to keep it to himself, not wanting to bother his father, who was in so much pain he couldn't possibly handle dealing with Kiyotaka's pain too...

But now that he finally let it out... let it all out... there's a calmness inside of him that he doesn't think he's ever felt before. It's something like... like peace. Like tranquility. Like something inside of him, something that has been out of place and broken and jagged within him for years has finally been removed. And no, he's not one hundred percent better, he knows that— feels that— but… still. It's one less thing. One less... less pain...

"Ya feelin' better?"

His eyes dart up, a spike of anxiety radiating through him, only to settle when he sees the soft, sympathetic look on Owa- Mondo's face. The biker is smiling softly at him, looking at him like he... like he's... precious, like he... like he matters...

"Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I'm sorry..."

He jerks when he feels a warm hand grab his face, heart skipping a beat when intense eyes bore into his own, galaxies he has no hope of ever understanding swirling within them. A-ah... w-well...

"Don't. Thank me. Apologize. Ain't nothin', got it? I... I didn't mind. At all. So, don't... don't apologize. It's alright. You're... you're alright."

The part of him that usually tells him to not believe this, to be doubtful and cautious just… isn't there this time. And so, instead of flushing and looking away, embarrassed, he just... smiles. Wide. Unrestrained. And Mondo... Mondo just smiles back. Small, at first, until it takes over his whole face. Wider and brighter than he's ever seen it and it... it... it's...

It's glorious…

"Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don't wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I… goddamn it," Mondo mutters, the smile fading as a look of pain fills his face, which makes Kiyotaka feel pain, too. He shakes his head, frantic, but Mondo just glares at him. Lightly, but it still stings. "No, don't deny it. I was a fuckin' moron. I just... I ain't ever... I don't get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me..."

Kiyotaka's heart begins to race at the muttered words, his eyes widening, something about the wording of that sentence catching his attention in the most peculiar of ways, making everything in him stand at attention. And it... it makes him wonder if... if maybe... maybe he...

Maybe he's not alone...? In his... his... his feelings...? In the… the strange feeling he gets inside when he looks at Mondo, when Mondo looks at him. In the way his stomach seems to want to implode whenever they're in the same room, no matter how innocuous or even furious their interaction may be. In the way that… that he… he wants… he has no idea what the feeling is, what it means, but maybe... maybe Mondo feels it too... and maybe... m-maybe...

Mondo sighs again, a wry smile on his lips as he presses somehow closer. They're now extremely close together, one of Mondo's hands loosely around Kiyotaka's waist, the other gently cupping his cheek, with Kiyotaka's hands lightly resting on Mondo's chest. They're facing each other, kneeling on the tile floor, but it isn't uncomfortable. Kiyotaka is still bare chested, wearing only his thin briefs to hide his manhood, while Mondo wears only his wife beater and a pair of slacks, but they might as well both be completely bare for how exposed he currently feels. Their chests are touching, Mondo's heat intoxicating, and his body is like a live wire, every nerve ending open and flayed and bleeding, but he doesn't care. God, he doesn't... doesn't care…

Mondo opens his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, and Kiyotaka is enthralled, watching it as it moves, and he... he wants... God, h-he wants...

"It's like yer my brother or somethin'. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he's gone now. I can't... I couldn't protect him, fuck. An' I… f-fuck. I can't protect you, either, can I...? No, I… I can't... I can't... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit..."

Kiyotaka stiffens, his mind— which had been racing with thoughts, and feelings, and hope, hope, hope— abruptly halting. It's like everything in him is frozen, like he's been engulfed in crystal, like he's... like he's been turned to stone. He doesn't even really know why, but he… he just… Mondo called him a… a…

Brother...?

Brother.

Brother.

Mondo views him like... a brother.

The word keeps repeating in his head, again and again, like a tiny missile, attacking every last inch of him, his body stiff as a statue still. He can feel Mondo stiffen too, his eyes looking wild and frantic at Kiyotaka's lack of response, and Kiyotaka hates it, wants to move, to reassure, to do something but-

Brother.

Mondo views him... like a brother...

"Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!"

Feeling Mondo rip himself away from him, his hands coming up to pull at his hair, which is still hanging limply from his head, his chest heaving as he shakes... it hurts something primal inside of him. And that is what breaks Kiyotaka out of his stupor, his mind catching up.

Brother.

Brother.

Yes, yes... brother! Aha! Brothers! Ahahahaha!

T-that must be it! Haha! H-he's... he's never had a brother before, not even a friend, s-so of course h-he would- would get confused, wouldn't understand, of course, of course! T-the internet was wrong, of course! Of... of course! Ahahahahahahaha!

He l-loves Mondo... like a brother! Ahahahaha! Yes! Of course! That makes total, perfect sense! That's what he's been feeling! Familial, b-brotherly love! N-nothing... nothing else. He's never felt like this before because he's never had a brother! That's why it's so foreign! Why he hasn't been able to figure out what it is he's been feeling! That's all!

That… that's all…

(He's such a goddamn liar-)

Jolting forward, he touches Mondo, feeling frantic inside, flinching only a little when the biker looks up at him with wild, manic eyes, his mouth pulled down into a bitter grimace. His eyeliner has been long since rubbed off and that— coupled with the way his hair hangs limply from his head, down from its intense style, framing his face— makes him look so… so…

(Beautiful.)

Young. Innocent. Not like a battle-hardened biker gang leader. Not like a criminal. But like a normal teenager. Like- like his-

Like his brother.

His brother.

(Maybe if he says it often enough it will feel more like the truth...?)

Pushing aside his own inner pain, knowing that it's his turn to be the strong one, to help Mondo like Mondo has been helping him, he smiles softly at the other, hoping that it, for once, looks normal and not terrifying.

Judging by the desperate way Mondo looks up at him, he thinks that maybe... maybe he finally succeeds.

For once…

"N-no! Don't worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I've never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn't imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you're incredible..."

He can feel his face flush, and he feels so sick inside, the words burning his throat as they come out, but it's worth it for how Mondo is looking at him. Like he can't quite believe what he's hearing. Like it's the best news he's ever been told, but he can't quite accept it as gospel truth. B-but it is- it is true. It is! Kiyotaka, he... he...

He loves Mondo. Like a brother. Loves him... like a brother.

They're brothers.

Soul brothers.

That's all.

"Ya can't mean that, Kiyotaka... I'm a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You're goddamn perfect and I'm hot dog shit, ya can't... y-you can't..."

Mondo's words keep switching between proper grammar and his strange laid-back way of speaking, and there's something so endearing about that to him that he has to take a second to breathe deeply to contain the way his heart lurches with his brotherly love. It sure- sure is brotherly love. But Mondo's words... what he's saying...

"Mondo... I- I'm not perfect. I... I'm not. B-but that's okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that's all that matters! You're not... dog feces! You... you're so much more, Mondo..."

Part of him wants to insult himself. To elevate Mondo by putting himself down. You're so much better than I am, Mondo. You are strong, and confident, and surprisingly caring, and yes you have your quirks, your flaws, but I guarantee they're better than mine! You shine and you sparkle and from the minute I met you I knew there was something so gosh darn important about you, something that matters so very, very much, that made you valuable to me, and I- Mondo I-

But he's not stupid. He knows that would just make Mondo more distressed, make him worry about Kiyotaka, make him feel pity, and he doesn't want that. He wants to be strong, for once, and he wants to help. God, he... he wants to help. Help his brother through... through his insecurities…! Aha! Ahahaha!

"No. N-no, I ain't shit, goddamnit, I..." Mondo looks away, conflict on his face, before he sighs. All the tension melts away, everything floods out until the only emotion on Mondo's face is... is...

Cold resignation...

"I hate myself. Always fuckin' have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin' said it. I love the gang, don't get me wrong. I love bein' with 'em, bein' a part a' somethin' bigger than myself. I love leadin' 'em, ridin' my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin' love it. Even bein' here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin' the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an' shit. Means somethin', 'least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I'll be in the middle ofa fight and I'll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin'... do somethin' else fer a change. But I… heh. I can't. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I'd keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an' I... I can't leave that. I made a promise, a man's promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin' that. Can't stop. Ever. Not 'til the gang is dead an' shit, all the members movin' on ta do better shit with their lives. An' me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?"

Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face.

"But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin' fer the moon. Prime fuckin' Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin' 'bout yer plans an' shit. Wantin' ta make the world a better place, havin' such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya've got drive. Determination. An' I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a' the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, 'least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that 'bout ya, always did."

Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It… it sounds sad… and Kiyotaka, he…

"But that… heh. That ain't me, Kiyo. Ain't me. I ain't got plans, ain't got any fuckin' clue a' what I'm gonna do after school ends. They got me takin' fuckin' leadership classes an' shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That's 'bout it, Christ. An' ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I'll be happy fer ya, 'course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit..."

Mondo sighs, then, and looks back up at Kiyotaka, his face more open and honest than he's ever seen it and he... he's...

Stunning.

Incredible.

Perfect, god he's so perfect-

Something. He sure is... something.

"I'll just hold ya back. Ya don't want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don't want someone like me at all. So... I 'ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget 'bout this all and just... move on. I'll leave ya alone and ya won't hafta-"

"No!" Kiyotaka yells, shooting up, still kneeling but now upright and straight, his knees aching from how hard he's pressing them into the tile. But he doesn't care, doesn't care, doesn't care at all, because Mondo is trying to tell him that they should forget all about this and he can't- h-he can't-!

"Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I'm not! And I know you aren't either! But... but maybe that's okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don't know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don't care about your flaws; I don't care that you're in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!"

Brothers. Brothers. Just... just brothers.

And he's okay with that.

(It's better than nothing. God, it's so much better than nothing-)

Mondo looks up at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. Kiyotaka just keeps looking at Mondo, trying to keep the anxiety and fear off his face. He is terrified, god is he terrified, but he has to try and keep his cool. He needs... he needs to be strong; he has to... has to be strong...

Finally, after what feels like eons, Mondo smiles. It's small at first, before it widens, larger and larger, until it fills up his whole face. With his hair down, his eyeliner gone, his eyes soft and sparkling, the silver undertones coming out, his smile wide and happy and-

Kiyotaka feels such intense brotherly love towards the other teen it's not even funny. It... it sure is brotherly love...

"Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?"

Kiyo. This is the third time that Mondo has called him that. Is it... a nickname? He... wow. Wow. No one has ever…o-only his mother…

But he can't focus on that now, so instead he pushes it to the side and grins back, nodding with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. It feels off and wrong, but Mondo doesn't seem to notice. Good... g-good...

"Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You'll see! Aha! This is fantastic!"

And honestly... it kind of is. The shock of it all has started to wear off and Kiyotaka is starting to come to grips with it all. And the thought of it... of him and Mondo, two kyoudai, two brothers, two... friends. It... it's wonderful! Perfect! Everything he has ever wanted! He's always wanted a friend, someone to rely on, to confide in, to trust! And now! He will have one!

Oh, he's never been happier! To think, that Mondo sees him in such a way... sees him like family... it's incredible! Wonderful! Stupendous!

(And the small bit of hurt inside of him, raw and aching and bleeding? It doesn't matter. It just… does not matter. Not at all. He pushes it away, until he can't feel it anymore. Until all he feels is euphoria at the prospect of having a brother, someone to rely on and confide in and cherish. So what, it's not quite what he, maybe, possibly, truly wants? So what? It… it's enough. No... it's better than enough! It's! It's incredible! It... it...)

(He shoves the ache down. It's not helpful. It's stupid and useless, and he refuses to let it ruin the best gift he's ever been given. And that? Is that.)

Mondo grins at him and laughs, and then he's being pulled into those strong arms again, endless warmth, being held so tight there is no room for pain at all. And it... it feels...

Like coming home.

"Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I'll do my best. I can't promise ya anythin', know I'm a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I'll try. That... that's all I can offer... heh…"

Kiyotaka wraps his arms around Mondo— his kyoudai— and holds the teen as tightly as he, himself, is being held. And it feels so… g-god…

"That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you're not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!"

Funny. All his life, he's told himself that your best isn't enough. That you have to do better than your best. That you have to be...

Perfect.

And maybe... maybe that's still true, to some degree. When he thinks of himself and his goals and the places that he wants to be... but when it comes to Mondo?

Anything is good enough. He'll take... anything. Anything at all.

After a minute he feels Mondo pull back and he feels himself resist, unbidden. He flushes when he hears Mondo laugh, slightly embarrassed at his clinginess (people hate it when you're clingy, Kiyotaka, god, stop being such a child and grow up already, you pathetic-)

But Mondo doesn't go far. He pulls back only enough to press his forehead to Kiyotaka's, eyes liquid silver, the palest lavender, his lips smiling so softly and-

"I'll be good. Fer ya... I'll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it."

Grk- a-ahh. This man... this boy... this... wonder. He will surely be the death of him, won't he…?

But oh... what a beautiful death…

"Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That's a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!"

Mondo laughs again, and pulls away, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair gently. Kiyotaka's hair is longer than it usually is, since he's not had much time these past few weeks to think about cutting it, so Mondo's actions make it fall into his eyes. This makes him let out a noise of surprised annoyance, which just makes Mondo laugh again.

"Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka's just a bit of a mouthful, 'sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?"

Nicknames? Well. There is...

"A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you'd like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you'd like..."

Mondo smiles at him, soft and gentle, and nods carefully.

"Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain't exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya'd like."

Kiyotaka— no, Taka, he's Taka now, isn't he?— blushes lightly, his heart clenching to hear himself get called that name again. One he's not heard in so long, since his father has always disliked nicknames. His mother only really called him by a nickname since she spent the first thirteen years of her life in America, where nicknames are overly common, used as a way to show affection, usually. So, Mondo calling him this, this ancient nickname of his… a name he always related to and even liked, but has since learned to dislike, if only because of his father's disgruntlement with such things… it… well. It is something.

But now, with Mondo calling him it… hearing it more often (he hopes, god), perhaps… maybe…

He can find himself getting used to it again.

Taka... Taka. He... he's Taka.

How perfect.

But how… how can he return the favor, how can he... how can he show Mondo how this feels, to have something that is theirs, a name shared to show the world that they… t-that they are…? Ah. Mondo is right, his name doesn't really shorten much, but… but... perhaps…

"Oh! I can always call you kyoudai! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!"

Mondo laughs again, harder, and ruffles his hair again.

"Alright, Taka. If ya'd like. Now, it's fuckin' late. I ain't even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let's get ya ta bed."

Heart clenching, he watches for a moment as Mondo stands, the teen stretching as he gets out of the scrunched-up position that they've been huddled in for the past... who even knows how long. Kiyotaka— no, Taka— stands as well, only just now remembering his state of undress. A-ah! He really just had that entire conversation... in only his underwear! How embarrassing!

Mondo glances at him, not noticing his embarrassment, and smiles. His eyes then glance down, and he looks at his chest, pausing there, before a frown rises on his lips. Taka freezes at the look, wondering what, exactly, is wrong. He... he isn't... regretting anything... is he…?

"How'd ya get that? The... the scar?" Mondo asks softly, his hand raising absently to trace something on Taka's chest. Taka feels himself stiffen at the unexpected question and touch, before he looks down, even though he knows full well what scar Mondo is talking about. After all, it's fairly large, the largest he has, running from the base of his sternum all the way up to his collarbone, right over his heart.

"A-ah... that..." Taka mutters, flushing lightly. It's... not a pleasant memory. Mondo frowns, picking up on his resistance, and removes his hand hastily, looking embarrassed.

"Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y'ain't gotta talk 'bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin' an' sh- stuff. Heh…"

Taka blinks, watching as the other teen's face blooms red with an embarrassed blush, before smiling at Mondo softly.

"I... I don't mind! It's not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don't mind you cursing! Much! It... it's what makes you, you! Just as long as you don't do it in class or in the halls!"

Mondo stares at him dumbly for a moment, before he laughs again, cheeks a rosy pink. He nods, though, smiling at him gently.

To give himself something to do (other than stare at Mondo, smiling like an idiot), Taka walks over to the locker he'd put his things in earlier, carefully putting on his uniform at last. As he dresses, he tells his tale.

"It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn't well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather," Taka mutters, glancing at Mondo to see his reaction. The teen is frowning, but he doesn't seem angry at the reminder, which is something, he supposes. He continues. "One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I'd gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster's car, I'd just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!"

Unpleasant is a vast understatement. It had been very painful at the time, and very terrifying. This was back at the start of middle school, back when he had been smaller, less physically able. Not to mention that the bully was a year older than him, held back for obvious reasons, and was almost twice his size. He hadn't been able to defend himself, even if he'd wanted to, and he'd been afraid that… that the bully wouldn't have limits that time. This is the same bully that had broken his arm earlier that year, after all, and he'd not… not known if… well. It was a big reason as to why he'd built himself up the way he had, honestly. Going passed basic exercise and onto… onto building muscle mass. So that he'd never be that helpless again. And it's worked! It… it's worked…

He startles when he hears a strangled noise, eyes wide as he looks at Mondo, who looks almost... apoplectic. Oh... o-oh no! H-he shouldn't have said that! Now Mondo's going to know how weak he is, and he'll hate him, and he won't want to be kyoudai and he-!

"They fuckin' what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!"

Taka blinks, a confused frown on his face. W-what? Expelled? N-no...

"A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn't have mattered, see! The teachers didn't like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!"

Stronger... yes. That's one word for it...

"Y-you... what?" Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. Taka doesn't understand why Mondo is looking so... so horrified.

"I mean... that's just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!"

They almost did, of course. Almost...

"Goddamnit... that's why ya keep tellin' me ta... ta punish ya, ain't it? Taka, please tell me ya don't actu'ly think ya deserved that shit?"

Deserved...? Well...

Taka looks down at his jacket, the last piece of his uniform he's yet to put on, frowning gently. Had he... deserved it? Well... he...

"I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don't know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?"

Taka startles again when he sees sudden movement in the corner of his eye, looking up with a racing heart, fear filling him. But all he sees is Mondo, wonderful, sweet Mondo, who is staring at him with such... such anguish in his eyes, a simmering anger in them but Taka knows... he knows it's not directed at him...

R… right?

"No. Fuckin' no. Y'ain't deserved any a' that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I'm gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a' my goddamn life. And that's a man's promise."

Taka's heart swells at Mondo's impassioned words, his breath stuttering in his chest as he sees the determined look on his friend's (!) face. He smiles softly, the horror of the past fading from mind. It doesn't matter, not now. Not here, with Mondo looking at him like that, like he matters, like he's precious. Who cares what had happened back then? It has all led him here, after all, to this exact moment in time.

And he wouldn't trade this for the world.

"T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you."

Mondo smiles gently at him, erasing the final foot between them and putting an arm around him, squeezing gently.

It feels like heaven…

"Ain't gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an' I don't want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let's get goin'."

Taka nods quickly, and hurriedly pulls on his jacket, buttoning it with practiced fingers. He then turns back to the locker and frowns when he sees one last thing within them, sitting innocently inside the metal container. Reaching his hand out, he carefully picks the glasses case up, turning it this way and that as he contemplates it. Huh. To think, this tiny little thing had sparked this whole experience...

He adores it.

Before he can do anything— like stick it into his pocket so he can treasure the things forever— he feels the little box get plucked out of his hand, causing him to let out a noise of surprise. He then turns, wide eyed, as Mondo opens the container and-

And-

Puts the glasses... on...

"Huh... I guess they ain't that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?"

How do they... look...

Grk!

Fighting down the furious flush in his face (and decidedly ignoring the tightening in his trousers, which is completely inappropriate), he smiles a wobbly smile, giving Mondo a shaky thumbs up.

"You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!"

Ha... amazing... what an understatement... he's mainly glad he was able to get through that sentence without stammering!

And to make matters worse, Mondo... Mondo smiles, his hair down around his shoulders, eyeliner gone, the pair of thin, purple and silver glasses framing his eyes and Taka... Taka just about self-destructs.

Being friends with Mondo sure is going to be a workout for his heart... because! Of all that brotherly love! Ahahahaha! Hahaha... ha...

Right...

"Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c'mon! Bed! Ain't gonna be the reason ya can't focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!"

Oh, yes you will, Taka thinks to himself mildly, though he says nothing of the sort.

Instead, he just follows Mondo— who picks his jacket up off the bench he'd apparently placed it and shrugs it on his shoulders nonchalantly— and finally exits the bathhouse.

---

Yay! They are friends now! And Taka is Taka! And yes, they are finally, officially friends! No more back and forth or anything like that. They still have some fights, since they are, ya know... them. But we have finally moved from "enemies" and into the "friends" part. Now, just almost 200K more words until we get to the "lovers" part! Yay! :-D

Ha. But don't worry, we have some really nice pining and other ~~things~~ that will hopefully make up for it. Their relationship progress is gradual but realistic, I hope, so I hope it doesn't get dull waiting for them to get together, ha. I always hate super long slow burns where nothing happens for AGES and I'm like... is this... is this even going anywhere...?

Anyway! Next chapter follows this one up directly, which is why this one ends where it does. Again, they used to be connected, but I was like... yeah, these work better split.

(Also, random, but can I just say that I have no idea where the whole "Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!" thing came from? I don't think he ever says anything like that in the game? I just started doing it once and it just... caught on and now it's a running theme. Welp. I kinda have to admit I like it, though. It's like Taka's own "Man's Promise" thing, aw.)