Placing their phones face-down next to them while they eat has become somewhat commonplace between Hitoya and Jakurai. They both have demanding jobs that require them to be able to communicate with others at any given point, so having their phones close by at all times is advisable. Which is why neither of them are surprised at the gentle buzzing that sounds from Hitoya's side of the table as they eat dinner at Jakurai's apartment that night.
He picks it up to be met with Jyushi's name and face. "I better take this," he mutters. Jakurai offers a nod of understanding and a small smile.
Hitoya doesn't forget to push his chair in as he stands up and presses the phone against his ear. "What is it, Jyushi?" he sighs, sounding somewhat irritated.
He nearly flinches at the agonized wail that comes coursing through the speakers, followed by a slew of sobs and desperate gasps for air.
"H-Hi… Hito… Hitoya-san…."
"For the last time, Jyushi, if you can't find Amanda, look under your bed; she's probably there," Hitoya explains tiredly, fumbling with the silver watch that haloes his wrist. It isn't that he doesn't want to comfort the boy, but he feels as if he rarely ever gets to spend time with Jakurai these days, and if he can help not having their time together wasted, he would prefer it that way.
What he doesn't expect is for Jyushi to swallow thickly before softly breathing out, "I think I'm going to die tonight, Hitoya-san…"
The words just barely ride through the other end of the phone over the crackling of static, Jyushi's voice small and weak. The older man tightens his grip around the phone, his knuckles turning white. He can't think of what to say other than, " … what?"
"I'm… I'm in the tub," Jyushi slurs, every few words intercepted with a jagged sigh or a sharp intake of breath. There are some faint sloshing sounds in the background, confirming Jyushi's point. "I slashed my wrists and I… I… I don't wanna die," he confesses. His final statement sounds as if it's being squeezed from his throat.
"Fuck. Okay. Um…" Hitoya gulps thickly, frantically thinking of something, anything he can say in this situation to make things better. To calm Jyushi down. But he can't even remain calm himself. How can he? A cherished friend of his, someone he's come to love as if he were his son or little brother, could die tonight. "Okay, Jyushi, I… I'm gonna need you to stop the bleeding. Can you do that for me?" He bites his lip, eyes shifting nervously to Jakurai - the other man is a doctor, after all, so maybe he'll be better equipped to handle this.
At the word "bleeding," Jakurai's concern is instantly piqued. He sharply erects his spine, his normally tired-looking sapphire eyes widening and locking onto his partner as his face pulls into a worried frown.
Hitoya lowers the phone from his ear, shielding the microphone with the palm of his hand. "It's Jyushi. He just tried to kill himself. He slit his wrists in the bathtub. Can you stay on the phone with him? I'm gonna call 119."
Jakurai nods vigorously, darting up out of his seat so quickly that it rattles the cutlery and plates on the table.
"Jyushi, is Kuko with you?" Hitoya asks him almost pleadingly, as if the question doesn't already have an obvious answer; if the monk was present at the time, no way in hell would he have allowed Jyushi to do this to himself.
"N-No. I'm here by myself."
"Shit… Okay." Hitoya pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows sliding towards each other sadly. Jyushi had been left alone for one night, one fucking night, and this happens. Why couldn't he help but feel that he shouldn't have gone out with Jakurai tonight? "I'm gonna put Jakurai on the phone. He's a doctor, he'll know what to do to help you, okay? Just stay put."
He hastily hands the phone off to Jakurai, who instantly tucks it behind a waterfall of purple and silver hair and hurriedly asks, "Aimono-kun?"
Meanwhile, Hitoya makes a beeline for Jakurai's side of the table and grabs the doctor's cellphone, paying no mind to the wine glass he knocks over in the process. His fingers are trembling as they fly across the screen, fumbling around for the emergency call button. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. The ringing on the other end seems to stretch on for hours, the low, beeping noise echoing in his head and ricocheting off the walls of his skull. Sparkling gold liquid gathers in acidic puddles on the table and drips onto the carpet.
"What's your emergency?"
"Uh, yes. My so- someone I know tried to kill himself by wrist cutting tonight."
"Alright, sir, can you tell me the name, age, general description of appearance, and location of this person?"
"A-Aimono Jyushi. Age twenty. He's six feet tall, and, uh, has long black hair… blonde highlights. He lives at…" He starts to nervously relay the address to their shared apartment to the operator, his gaze drifting over to Jakurai every few seconds to ensure that Jyushi hasn't lost consciousness yet. Jakurai's lips are still moving, and every few seconds he'll stop to let Jyushi speak, which is a good sign.
"Does he live alone?"
"N-No, ma'am, I live with him. I, uh, I'm his legal guardian."
"Alright, and are you with him right now?"
"Um… no, I'm with my significant other at the moment. We're about half an hour away." As soon as the words pass his lips, the reality of the situation sets in and Hitoya wants to kick himself. His son figure tried to take his life tonight, and the entire time Hitoya was out spending time with his boyfriend. What kind of "legal guardian" was he?
"Okay, we've gotten his location and we're dispatching an ambulance right now. We will be directing him to Nagoya Central Hospital. Can I get your name, sir?"
"Hi…" The lawyer takes a breath, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to center himself. "Hitoya. Amaguni Hitoya."
"Alright, Amaguni-san. We will call you with any additional information."
Hitoya can't even say anything as he clicks the phone off. His body freezes when he notices that Jakurai keeps alternating between turning the phone in his hands so he can look at it, and pressing it against his ear, repeating "Aimono-kun? Aimono-kun?" over and over.
It's then that Jakurai sees Hitoya standing behind him, his pupils dilated and his breathing labored. The doctor presses his lips together into a thin line, and can only think to cast a sad look at his partner. "Aimono-kun stopped responding."
"… Oh." Hitoya claps both hands over his mouth, then uses them to rub his face and pull through his hair. "Fuck. Okay, I… I sent an ambulance. They're already on their way."
Jakurai hangs up the phone and lets the palm of his hand fall comfortingly against the blade of Hitoya's shoulder, rubbing circles into his back. He hands the phone back to Hitoya, but Hitoya doesn't take it. Jakurai sighs. "You should probably call Harai-kun," he gently suggests in a whisper.
Hitoya's stomach drops. He didn't even consider Kuko in all of this. Kuko, the one person on earth who loves Jyushi equally as much as Hitoya does, just in a different way. He nods, then takes the phone back from Jakurai. He'll call Kuko, and then he and Jakurai will get over to Nagoya Central Hospital as fast as they possibly can, violating whatever traffic laws they need to. He doesn't care at this point.
His fingers shake as he searches for Kuko in his contacts. With a breathless sigh, he raises the phone to his ear again, his stomach doing a somersalt each time the ringing tone starts anew. He waits endlessly for the sound of Kuko's voice on the other end.
• • •
Kuko's father is strict about his ban on modern technology. The only phone Kuko has is a shitty flip phone, and he's only allowed to use it once all other duties at the temple have been covered. It seems like a fair enough tradeoff, but Kuko often underestimates just how many duties he has at the temple. It isn't until he's getting ready for bed that he flips open his phone to peruse the various notifications.
Kuko's features immediately twist into a confused frown when he sees how many missed calls he has. When has he ever had this many? The only person who really calls him is Jyushi, and even Jyushi prefers to just text. There are five voicemails in total, and not a single one is from Jyushi. In fact, all of them are from Hitoya, with the exception of one from an unfamiliar number.
Tentatively, he presses play on the first one.
"Kuko, it's Hitoya. Call me back when you get the chance. It's important."
"Kuko, please call me back as soon as possible. It's really important. It can't wait. Please."
"Answer your FUCKING phone, you little SHIT!"
Kuko nearly flinches at the venom in Hitoya's voice that comes thundering through the phone at the third voicemail. He then hears what sounds like Jakurai telling him to calm down in the background, and Hitoya exhaling deeply before he starts again,
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I shouldn't have. I just… please pick up your phone, Kuko." The final syllable of the monk's name tapers off into a choked-back sob. Hitoya's normally gruff and stone-cold voice sounds like it's about to crack, and Kuko doesn't like that. "Please."
He's almost scared to go to the next voicemail. This one is the one from the number he doesn't recognize.
"Good evening, Harai-san. This is Dr. Watanabe from Nagoya Central Hospital. I am calling in regards to Aimono Jyushi, for whom you have been listed as an emergency contact. Please return this call at your earliest convenience for any additional information."
Kuko nearly drops the phone.
His heart suddenly feels like a weighted stone in his chest, his breaths becoming short and rapid. The words "hospital," "emergency," and "Aimono Jyushi" were not words he had ever expected to hear in such close proximity to one another, much less had he hoped to. With his fingers starting to shake and a lump forming in the back of his throat, he reluctantly goes to the next message.
"Kuko, it's me, again. I'm here. At the hospital. Jakurai's with me. Call me back when you can. Please."
"Fuck," Kuko spits under his breath, hastily pocketing his phone. No time to think. No time to worry about what may or may not have happened to Jyushi. All he needs to think about is getting to Nagoya Central, and fast. He sweeps on his jacket and pushes his feet into a pair of sneakers before bulleting down the stairs, not caring if the sound of his running disturbs his father.
It does, apparently, because he blocks the door as soon as Kuko's just in front of it. "And where do you think you're going at this hour, young man?"
Any other time, Kuko would have tried to push past his father and made some snide remark about how it was none of his business. But right now, he can't. He has to get to Jyushi and the last thing he'll do is allow anyone or anything, not even his dad, to prevent that from happening.
Kuko brings a hand to his head, sleek black nails digging into his scalp. "I need to get to Nagoya Central Hospital. There's… something happened to Jyushi. I don't know what, but… I got a call and I…"
His father nods solemnly, stepping aside to allow his son access to the door. He's been approving of him and Jyushi's relationship since day one, and though he doesn't always understand the dynamic the two share, he knows how important that boy is to his son. "Stay safe out there," is all he says as Kuko looks at him with vulnerable gold eyes.
Kuko gives a curt nod, both an agreement and a thanks, before he swings the door open and takes off.
• • •
It takes him about half an hour to make it to Nagoya Central. He has no other option but to take the bus, which doesn't show up for probably 10 minutes. Every second that ticks by as Kuko stands under the streetlight feels like a thousand. Every minute he isn't there could be a minute that Jyushi is…
Kuko shakes his head to get the thought out. Whatever happened can't be that bad. If it was, they would have actually said something instead of just leaving him ominous, open-ended voicemails. And Jyushi can't be dead. He'd feel it if he was, right? They're connected by the red string of fate, or whatever it is that Jyushi always says. If Jyushi was gone, he would sense that something was off. He would just know.
He stumbles out of the bus doors so eagerly that he almost trips, and by the time he makes it through the glass sliding doors of the hospital, he's out of breath from how fast he ran down the block.
The receptionist at the front desk can only lift her brows at him in concern as he pants and wheezes rapidly, trying to form words.
"Mm… Harai Kuko. Here for…" A brief cough. "Aimono Jyushi. Got a call. Dr… Watanabe."
Her face falls sympathetically when Dr. Watanabe's name is mentioned, which can't be good. "Understood, young man. I'll page him for you."
Within minutes, Kuko is approached by a tall, lanky man with glasses and a stubble. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm assuming you're Mr. Harai Kuko?"
"Uh…" The monk stuffs his hands into his pocket, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah. That's me, I guess. I'm here for Aimono Jyushi. He's, uh, he's my boyfriend. I got a call saying there was an emergency with him."
"I'll explain everything while I walk you over to where he is right now. His legal guardian Amaguni-san and his partner Jinguji-san are already here."
"I… I knew that. They called me earlier," Kuko mumbles, his gaze glued to the linoleum tiles in the floor as they begin to walk.
Dr. Watanabe begins to relay the events of the night to Kuko, but it all turns to static and white noise in the boy's ears after Dr. Watanabe states that Jyushi attempted suicide. The sounds of the doctor's rambling fade off into background noise as the single word echoes in his mind. He'd be lying if he said it came as a complete shock. He had the thought in the back of his mind ever since he first got the call stating that Jyushi was in the hospital, but back then, it was a "what if." Now it's an "is," and Kuko doesn't know how to handle it. This is all real, but none of it feels that way. None of it should be.
The yellow light diffusing from the ceiling makes him sick.
• • •
Jyushi is currently residing in room 414, Kuko learns. He wants to chuckle at the irony of it, but he can't. Not with a million other things weighing on his mind.
Not with the possibility that when he leaves this place, he may not have a boyfriend anymore.
Dr. Watanabe knocks on the door before letting himself in. Kuko clenches his fist at the sound of the door clicking open. He doesn't want to see what's behind that door. He doesn't want to go into that room. It will make all of this real.
Hitoya and Jakurai are in there already. Hitoya is perched on a chair adjacent to Jyushi's bed with his hands folded and his forehead nestled on top of them. Jakurai is standing behind him, rubbing his back. They both look up at the sound of Kuko and Dr. Watanabe entering, but Kuko doesn't acknowledge them. His attention is singularly focused on one person only; the only person in the room who happens to not be awake right now.
Jyushi is lying face up with his arms at his sides, wrapped tightly in gauze up to his elbows. A few dried-out splotches of crimson peek out from the folds in the white fabric. Kuko's never been one to be particularly sensitive to the sight of blood but he feels a wave of nausea hit him. He's upset because it's Jyushi's blood. It's blood that signifies something terrible that happened to someone he'd do anything for, something even more terrible that could have happened to that same person.
Jyushi has always been pale, but he looks like a ghost now. His eyes are hidden behind his long eyelashes, haloed by heavy bags and smudges of black glitter, the remnants of his makeup from earlier that mingle with trails of dried tears. Clumps of blonde and black are matted, a stark contrast from his usual silky locks, and adhere to his forehead and cheeks.
It's unfair. It's wrong. Kuko wishes so desperately that he was the one lying in that hospital bed and not Jyushi. He's never been suicidal at any point in his life, so he has no idea what's going on in Jyushi's head. All he knows is that Jyushi doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve to feel worthless or like he should die. He doesn't deserve to feel like his life doesn't have value. Nobody deserves that, but especially not somebody as incredible as Jyushi. He doesn't deserve any of it and Kuko would take it all away if he could.
But he can't. What's done is done. All Kuko can do is take a step forward, then lower himself to the ground until he's kneeling on the floor. He reaches out to touch Jyushi, but his fingers stop short of the other boy's bandaged wrist. Jyushi just looks so fragile right now. Kuko almost feels that if he touches him, the other boy will shatter like glass.
He delicately brushes his fingertips across Jyushi's knuckles. They feel cold. He draws various abstract shapes and patterns into the back of his hand before lacing his fingers through the musician's, two sets of pale, slender fingers criss-crossing with one another. The black lacquer coating Jyushi's nails is chipped around the edges and has started to flake off in some places.
A voice at the back of Kuko's head tells him that this may be the last time he ever gets to hold Jyushi's hand. He gives Jyushi a light squeeze to distract himself.
It's then that Hitoya stands up. The popping of his joints and the little grunt he makes indicate that he's been sitting there for quite some time. "I'll leave you two," he speaks in a low voice, offering an encouraging pat against Kuko's shoulder. Kuko doesn't reject the motion, but doesn't respond to it either. His eyes are fixed onto Jyushi.
Dr. Watanabe gives the two older men a curt nod as they move to exit the room. There is a conversation to be had. "Kuko, don't leave this room. Jyushi can't be by himself," Hitoya warns him gravely before Dr. Watanabe can give the boy any instruction. He figures the words will be taken more seriously if they're coming out of his mouth and not a stranger's.
Kuko nods. "I got it," he says quietly. He's too tired to bite back against Hitoya, but he wouldn't dream of leaving Jyushi alone. Not now. Not ever.
Once the men are gone, Kuko's eyes never leave his boyfriend. The love of his life. The person with whom he swore they would spend the rest of their lives together. How did this happen? Kuko thinks. He knows that Jyushi has been battling depression for quite some time, even before they met, and that he had a traumatic past, but he thought the other boy had been healing. He knew, realistically, that his love and friendship wouldn't magically relieve Jyushi of all his internal struggles, but, fuck, what had been going through his mind that night that made him feel as if death was his only option? What had hit him so hard that he didn't even think to at least call Kuko first?
The younger boy stirs, a soft moan ghosting past his lips. Kuko gasps quietly and inches closer, hanging onto the other boy's every movement. Black-rimmed eyes flutter open and trail over to where Kuko is sitting.
There's no visible change in his expression, just his lips slowly parting as he manages a quiet, "… Kuko?"
"Hey," the monk whispers back. The corners of his lips tilt up into a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He reaches forward to lightly pet Jyushi's head, then cup his jaw. "Yeah, it's me."
Jyushi sits up. His gaze floats around the room, cerulean irises swimming with confusion and vulnerability before a dark look eclipses his face. He remembers what has happened that night. As if he needs a confirmation, his eyes drop down to his arms that are folded sloppily in his lap - once he sees the bandages cocooning his wrists and the brownish-red stains that adorn them, he knows for sure.
Jyushi looks up at Kuko again. He looks so fragile, and he isn't supposed to be. Sure, he's sensitive, but he's strong. He's so strong, and Kuko knows that. He's seen it. So to see his face so full of sadness and regret and fear… it feels all kinds of wrong.
The musician opens his mouth to speak, then closes it just as quickly when he finds that he can't form words. His lip quivers, his vision grows cloudy, a pressure builds up behind his eyes and finally, a barrage of tears is spilling past his eyelashes, bulleting down his cheeks and dripping onto his bandaged arms, where it mingles with the dried markings of his deed.
Before he knows it, a pair of small arms is wrapped tightly around him, and he's being pulled into Kuko's chest. The monk is so much smaller than him, but right now, Jyushi feels like the small one. Kuko buries his face into the tangled web of black and blonde hair. He inhales deeply as if taking in his scent, but with the noise he makes that follows, Jyushi can tell that Kuko is crying too. His cries aren't as loud or intense as Jyushi's, but the taller boy can feel them. Kuko's shoulders sporadically jolt up and down, his chest rumbling with pain as tears leak out of him. His teeth are gritted. Only a muffled sob or sniffle sounds from him every now and then.
He wants to cry harder. He just doesn't want to overwhelm Jyushi right now. The other boy has been through enough tonight already.
"I love you," the monk manages through his tears. "Fuck, I love you so goddamn much, Jyushi. Don't ever… please, I… I love you."
Jyushi's cries are muffled by the fabric of Kuko's shirt, a damp circle blooming in the spot where his face is buried. His hands grip onto the folds of fabric tightly, like Kuko will float away if he doesn't keep him there. Kuko tries to comfort him, stroking his hair and shushing him over and over, but it's hard to be comforting when his own hands are trembling and his voice is dripping with snot and tears.
Jyushi is no stranger to crying into Kuko's chest, nor to the older boy consoling him. But this, Kuko's own cries mixing in with his, is foreign. It was always Jyushi crying, Kuko comforting him. Kuko was never supposed to cry with him. But now he is, and it's because Jyushi tried to kill himself.
The musician finally slips out of Kuko's grasp to wipe at his eyes with the backs of his hands, making his makeup smear even more. Kuko lets him; he didn't want to be the first person to let go. Jyushi finishes drying his eyes as much as he can, then looks at Kuko and straightens his back before speaking. "Pl… please stop crying, Kuko," he says. "I don't… I don't like it when you cry." Granted, this is the first time he's ever seen Kuko cry, but he's seen enough to know it's definitely something he doesn't want to happen again.
"What?" Kuko asks. He frowns, but there's no anger behind it. "You want me to stop crying? How can I… no." He holds Jyushi's hands gently. "I… I could've lost you tonight, I… fuck, Jyushi. I love you, I don't want… fuck."
Jyushi purses his lips in understanding. "I… I'm sorry, Kuko," is all he can think to say.
"Shhh. Come here, baby boy." Jyushi's heart starts to flutter in his ribcage at the sound of his favorite nickname from Kuko. He curls back up to Kuko's chest, the smaller boy cradling him in his arms like a child. A small hand traces soft circles and lines into Jyushi's back, making the musician start to feel sleepy again. "You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I mean, I am, but not at you. Don't apologize. Please, please, please don't feel guilty."
He pushes Jyushi's matted bangs from his face so he can press a kiss to the musician's forehead. His thumb lightly traces over the map of scars surrounding the eye Jyushi usually keeps hidden, the milky white orb encased within staring up at him as best as it can. Both eyes are red and puffy and glistening with more tears that threaten to pour over. Kuko lightly kisses the lid of Jyushi's faulty eye, which the musician allows him to do. He hates showing that side of his face to Kuko, hates having to carry around those cicatrices with him for the rest of his life as a permanent reminder of the suffering he didn't deserve to go through, but he'd never reject a kiss from Kuko in any form.
"I… I should probably go tell Hitoya, Jakurai, and the doc that you're up," Kuko says awkwardly, standing up to get out of the bed. He's stopped by a pale hand firmly latching onto his wrist, and finds himself staring back into the pleading eyes of Jyushi.
"Promise you'll come back?" the other boy whispers desperately.
Kuko chuckles, but it's not happy. "Of course, baby." He leans down to kiss Jyushi's cheek before starting towards the door. He doesn't leave the room, though, just swings the door open, lightly raps on the side of it with his knuckles to catch the doctor's attention, and calls, "He's up," down the hall.
Hitoya is the first to enter, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum as he bolts into the room. Jakurai and a slender man wearing glasses and a white coat follow shortly after him, shuffling quickly to match his pace as much as they can without outright running.
The lawyer has both knees planted on the floor, one hand holding Jyushi's and the other gripping the side of the bed. Jyushi can tell from his tired eyes that Hitoya's been crying, and as he sputters and whimpers trying to get his words out, he's probably about to start up again. "Jyushi, you're… fuck, I can't believe… I really thought…"
"I'm fine, Hitoya-san." Jyushi forces a feeble smile.
"You're not," Hitoya asserts, his voice suddenly becoming serious. "Jyushi, don't say you're fine. You clearly aren't. If you were you wouldn't have…" His face becomes sullen again, and he drops his head into his hands. "… fuck."
The doctor finally cuts in, looking at Jyushi with kind eyes. "Hello, Aimono-san. My name is Dr. Watanabe. Do you know why you're here?"
Jyushi nods. "I tried to kill myself," he admits, more to himself than to anyone in the room.
"Is there a reason you did that?"
He pulls his knees to his chest. "I… I don't really want to talk about that right now."
"That's fine, Aimono-san, but we're going to have to have that conversation in the morning. Alright?"
Jyushi nods.
"Good. I'll let you rest for now." Dr. Watanabe looks pointedly at Jakurai and Hitoya, who get the memo. Reluctantly, the lawyer lets go of Jyushi's hand and stands up, not turning to leave until he's given Jyushi one more sad smile, and an affectionate squeeze against the boy's shoulder.
"Can Kuko stay?" Jyushi blurts as the three men are all trickling out of the room, his voice the loudest it's been all night. Dr. Watanabe smiles at him.
"Of course Kuko can stay."
As soon as the door is shut securely behind them, the monk crawls back into the bed, both his arms snaking around Jyushi's slim waist as he pulls the singer to his chest. "C'mere, baby boy."
Jyushi returns the hug with as much vigor as he can muster right now. His body still feels weak and small, but his love for Kuko would never be either of those things. The monk nuzzles Jyushi's neck, which tickles and makes the taller boy giggle in spite of everything. It's hard to stay positive with everything that's happened tonight, but Kuko can at least try to bring a genuine smile to his boyfriend's face. It's the least he can do.
"I love you, Jyushi," he murmurs as they fall back into the uncomfortable confines of the hospital mattress. "And I want you to know that. I never want a day to go by where you don't know how much I love you. Okay?"
Jyushi lets the words seep in before he nods. "… Mhm." He infirmly brings an arm around Kuko's waist. He can't say it back right now, too many emotions that his frail body wouldn't be able to contain, but it would definitely be the truth. "I know. Thank you, Kuko."
Jyushi is so exhausted and Kuko is so warm that he's out cold within minutes. Kuko stays up a little bit longer so he can gaze at Jyushi lovingly and play with his hair, but it isn't long before he follows suit.
As the two boys are soundly asleep in each other's embrace, Jakurai quietly slips into the room, tiptoeing across the floor so he doesn't disturb them. He places Amanda on the table beside them, positioning her against a vase of flowers so that she doesn't topple over. Hitoya had forgotten to grab her on their way out in the midst of all his panic. Jakurai smiles as he stalks out of the room once again. Jyushi will appreciate it in the morning.