(A/N: Whew, this is a long chapter. It was a lot of fun to write - I hope you all enjoy it.

I have to thank my wonderful Beta reader, Grae. Not only did he stop my rampant use of sub-clauses, run-on sentences, and sentences with two or more semicolons in it, he was invaluable for giving insight as to what it was like to be a teenage boy with a crush. I think I re-wrote this chapter three times.

Anyway, onwards!)

Chapter 3

17th May 2011

Stupid freakin' Hanamura and his friends. What the hell did they have to turn up for, and say all that crap? Calling him strange, sayin' all that shit and making him chase them. And makin' him abandon Naoto too… Hell knows what Naoto thought of him now. Not that it matters or nothin' just… they had better not say nothin', or he would give them such a beating.

He ran a hand through his hair under the shower as he pictured Naoto's face, chin tilted down, large eyes looking up from under his cap as he agreed to meet him again. Kanji felt his stomach do a somersault at the thought, and a faint blush rise on his cheeks.

He couldn't get Naoto out of his freakin' mind. Whilst he stood under the hot spray of water, washing away the sweat he had built up chasing Hanamura and his imbecile friends, he found his mind drifting back to the conversation they had shared walking along the riverbank. He couldn't remember the exact words very well but he easily recalled how he felt.

His stomach had been in knots. Here was a person who not only wanted to spend time with him, but had actively sought him out, even asked after him. He had tried so hard not to mess it up; not to say something dumb, not to get angry or flustered or-

Naoto was too damn cute. It was unfair that a guy got to be that cute. Pretty, even.

Kanji hadn't been sure if he had a type, but whatever Naoto was, this was his. The messy dark hair forced under a cap, the large blue eyes, the petite and slender figure; everything about this boy was something Kanji found attractive. And... that was a problem... wasn't it?

He shivered, recalling just how intently Naoto had looked at him when they first spoke, the intensity of those eyes sending a jolt up his spine, that focussed interest. His body instantly responded to the memory. He was hard.

Huh… well… that is kinda… weird. I ain't like that…

What if I am though? What if I'm the type who never gets interested in girls…?

He shut the water off and towelled himself down, being careful not to pay too much attention to the parts of him that were being pretty insistent at the moment. He'd deal with it later. He didn't bother with his hair, no point if he was going to bed, and just left it where it lay over his forehead. He picked up his glasses from where they lay by the sink. He rarely wore them; he didn't really need to, it wasn't as if he did a lot of reading or whatever. The image wasn't exactly what he was going for either.

He walked back to his bedroom, towel tied around his waist. He wasn't tired at all.

Naoto- what did Naoto think of him? He had said that he found him odd... so he was just like all the others, right? It was just… he seemed so interested. It was too damn tenacious an idea to leave alone. Kanji changed into a pair of shorts and climbed into bed.

Naoto had the most intense eyes Kanji had ever seen. Most people avoided eye contact with him; it wasn't hard as he towered above most people. They had that tendency to look at the floor when he passed, and hope he passed soon. Not that they are too scared to talk shit behind my back though.

But Naoto... didn't. Naoto made eye contact despite being so damn tiny. He looked at Kanji when he spoke and held his gaze when Kanji stuttered out a response.

Naoto had sounded intelligent; calm, collected and in control. Kanji must have sounded like a freakin' moron. It had been hard to string a sentence together. I don't think that I said anything stupid. He just asked me if I had seen anything suspicious. I think I answered ok. Just actin' cool.

I wonder what it would have been like to kiss him.

Kanji stopped, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. God damn it! He ain't like that! But, the thought persisted. The feel of his lips against his…Naoto's hair looked really soft; perhaps… perhaps he could touch it, stroke it as he pulled him closer and-

No. This is too-

His body was stirring again, a familiar warmth spreading to his cock. Damn it, he was just thinking about a kiss. Then why the hell is it doing this to me?

Kissing can lead to other things right?

Images flashed through Kanji's mind, uncharacteristically vivid, each harder to ignore than the last.

The thought of Naoto's mouth on his neck, pressing his lips against his pulse. Picturing touching him as he did so, caressing his skin. It looked so soft, so delicate. He just wanted to touch it, feel it against his own. Naoto wouldn't have the scars and bruises he had.

I wonder what his lips feel like… his skin looked so soft…

The urge was too hard to ignore. He trailed his hand into his shorts and gripped his cock, inhaling sharply at the sensation. He began to stroke himself, warmth spreading throughout his body. Picturing Naoto. Fuck, he was turned on. He wasn't going to last long. His heart beat wildly in his chest, his breathing becoming ragged. He had to convince himself that his heartbeat was only as loud to his own ears.

They… they could do this… couldn't they? Just because they were boys didn't mean that they couldn't- oh... to have him like this-

He felt his stomach try to tie itself in knots, his inner voice try and make him feel guilty, but-

He wondered what Naoto would look like at the peak of arousal. Would he be as hot as Kanji was? His cheeks as red…? His cock as hard…?

Kanji shivered at the thought, a small gasp escaping his lips as he moved his hand faster. What would Naoto's voice would sound like when he was in this state; would he lose his way of speaking or… or would he keep calm... saying his name.

It was too much. Kanji groaned as he came, his stroke faltering. Fuck. It felt good. He just- what the hell?

The comedown was hard. The last of the heat fled from his body, leaving him feeling cold, an uncomfortable sensation in his chest. His mind was screaming at him that what he had just done was wrong. That it ain't right for him to think of another man like that.

Kanji glanced at the clock hanging on his bedroom wall; it was almost midnight. From behind his partially drawn curtains the yellow glare of the streetlights illuminated the street. It had started to rain. He felt wide awake. And like shit.

Screw this. Might as well get up.

He changed out of his nightwear, bundling his shorts around the mess he just made before throwing them into his washing hamper. It was almost a waste in putting it on in the first place. he changed into his school uniform, leaving his glasses on the bedside table, before heading to the bathroom. Maybe Naoto would be around tomorrow and-

He shivered.

I look like shit.

He lent heavily on the sink, staring at his reflection in the harsh light of the bathroom. Dark shadows under his eyes, his hair mussed and unkempt, and his expression set in a frown. He looked freakin' old. He washed his hands before splashing cold water over his face and neck, running wet hands through his hair, forcing it into place after it had become disheveled earlier. That was slightly better.

There was the distinct rumble of an engine, a large vehicle approaching in the street, cutting through the silence. Kanji growled and stormed back to his bedroom to get a better look at the cause of the offending noise; the sound was unnecessarily loud in the stillness of the shopping district. It had better not be those biker punks again; one beating this month had to be enough. The mood he was in right now, he would happily kick their asses, final warning with the police be damned.

Checking out of the window, a delivery truck was parked opposite the textile shop, headlights switched off, but under the yellow-glare of the streetlights the silhouette of a figure was visible inside the van. The engine was still running; the driver didn't move.

The street was silent; none of the buildings opposite had their lights on, no one was waiting at their shop entrances to accept the delivery. Looking outside of his window, his was the only lit room in the street.

A delivery for the shop…? Admittedly it was not totally unheard of for the type of fabric his mother's shop sold to be delivered this late at night, but his Ma usually told him beforehand if they were expecting a particularly late or early order. Old bag is starting to lose it. He might as well go and check; it wouldn't hurt to get into her good books again after the entire beating up the biker gangs again thing.

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair he headed downstairs, slinging it over his shoulders as he did so. He passed the living room and headed to the front of the shop, slipping on his shoes before pulling the wooden sliding door aside and letting himself out into the cool night air. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation, the cold air and light rain against his face particularly welcome after tonight. He wasn't cut out for thinking, no, fretting, for long periods of time.

He crossed the street and headed towards the still idling delivery truck. The silhouetted figure he had seen from his bedroom window didn't seem to be here; Kanji peered into the gloom of the driver's seat, but he couldn't see anyone. Perhaps he had already started unloading.

The back of the truck was open, and the driver was leaning against a nearby low wall. His face was hidden in shadow beneath the delivery company's hat, rainwater running off the cap. His features were only briefly illuminated when he took a drag on the slightly damp cigarette hanging from his lips.

"You got stuff for Tatsumi?" Kanji asked, impatient to get out of the wet. The driver nodded, exhaling a thin stream of smoke, and gesturing into the truck. Kanji strained his eyes in the dark but couldn't see the usual bolts of fabric; there was a large tv close to him, but that was all he could see. "I… uh… what am I looking for-" Kanji looked over to the driver but he was nowhere to be seen.

A sudden impact sent him sprawling; a rough shove from behind. He stumbled forwards, falling hard, his face impacting on the rough floor of the truck, his shoulder hitting the TV set on the way down. Anger and surprise flared through him, his face contorted into a snarl as he twisted to face his attacker, hands balled in fists, his body tense and ready to fight.

His assailant threw his entire body weight against Kanji, his shoulder connecting with Kanji's stomach. Kanji fell backwards; there was a sudden sensation of falling. He panicked and grabbed at anything he could, fingers clawing at the air. A sudden stop, his head hitting the ground as he landed on his back; Kanji's vision slowly faded to black.


? May 2011

Kanji didn't move straight away; it hurt too much. He had no idea how long he had been out of it but his mouth tasted like shit. His tongue was dry, and his head pounding. It felt like that time he was brawling with some thugs (bikers again, a different gang) a year or so ago, and one of them rabbit punched him in the head. His Ma and the doctors were unimpressed; apparently he could have been really injured or...worse.

He opened his eyes; his vision was hazy, but there didn't seem to be much for him to see anyway. The entire place was pale grey and dark red, from the metal tiled floor to the oddly angled walls, everything misty with a thick, white fog. He rubbed his eyes and wished that he had his glasses with him; the fog was so thick that he couldn't see more than a foot or so in front of him. There didn't seem to be anything or anyone here.

Footsteps were approaching, slow and measured with a heavy tread. Kanji turned his head towards the sound and watched the tall shadowy figure head towards him, blinking when the person was near enough to identify.

It was... him?

The figure was dressed exactly the same; school uniform, jacket slung over his shoulders, bleached blonde hair, cropped short and slicked back. It was like looking into a mirror.

"T..The hell is this...!?" This was some uncanny shit right there; Kanji felt uneasy and slightly sick to his stomach.

He struggled to sit up, ignoring the sharp pain in his head as he did so, as well as the dull ache of his arms and shoulders. He tried to wave away the fog in front of his face to get a clearer image. The figure hadn't stopped walking towards him. It was unmistakably him. The details were identical, right down to the scar above his left eyebrow, nose stud and the piercings adorning his ears. Identical, except the eyes, which were seething a bright malevolent yellow.

The other Kanji stopped a few feet away and sneered, his mouth turning up in the corners as he fixed his attention on Kanji.

"Yo, dumbass!" Kanji frowned; the voice was his but as if heard through an echo, and uncharacteristically mocking. "s'bout time you arrived."

"Wh- what? Where is this place? Who the hell are you!?" He struck the empty air at his side, but still didn't have the energy to stand up. His back hurt as if he had been dropped from a height; he remembered falling.

"I thought that was obvious, you idiot. I am you." The other Kanji smirked. Kanji scowled and struggled to his feet, and it was as if the world shifted as he did so. The red and black tiles and walls faded into the fog, becoming even more indistinct. He faced his other self and instinctively pulled himself into a fighting stance.

"Th-that don't make any sense. Start making sense dammit!"

"I am you, and you are me. I know everything about you. About us. In fact-" He paused, mid sentence, and when he spoke again, his voice had changed, the register becoming higher, and lisping slightly. "It's about time you were honest with yourself, Kanji-kun."

"W-What do you mean?" This was too… surreal. Weird. Freakin' strange. The hell was going on? What the hell was this guy talking about? In his peripheral vision he could sense the world shifting again, indistinct shapes fading in and out of the fog.

"You're lying to yourself, Kanji-kun. About what you are, what you want." The other Kanji's yellow eyes bore into his, and Kanji began to feel uncomfortable.

"I… I don't..." Kanji felt panic begin to rise in his chest. No, he can't know. No one knows. Hell, even I don't know for sure-

"Oh? Don't you know what I am going to say? You know what I'm talking about. That little moment with yourself, hmm?" He paused, looking at Kanji as if he was searching for something. He smiled widely. His voice was becoming more flamboyant, mocking, the insinuation clear as day.

"N-no way!" Shit. He knew. The world took tangible form. The red tiles were replaced with a vague outline of wooden panels, the suddenly air stiflingly hot. The other Kanji laughed. "S-Shut up! I ain't like that!" I'm not ... like that. It don't have nothing to do with that. I just-

"No? Then why did you enjoy thinking about that young guy?" Kanji looked stricken, a deep blush rising onto his cheeks as the memory of a few hours before flashed in front of his eyes. The guilt made him feel sick.

"W... What do you-" The other Kanji interrupted him.

"Oh I saw you Kanji-kun. I'm you remember? I was there. And it felt good, right? When you were touching-"

"Shut up!" Kanji lunged forward, ignoring the pain, crossing the short distance between him and the other Kanji. He planted his feet in front of the gloating figure, drew his fist back and aimed a punch square at his face.

He didn't connect with anything, instead his fist went through blue-black smoke. He must have missed. It was this damn fog.

"So hot blooded!" The other Kanji was behind him, his voice grating, a mocking caricature of flamboyancy. Kanji spun round, snarling, hands balled into fists. He swung again, and again connected with nothing. And again. And again. Punching, kicking - wherever he aimed a strike, the figure wasn't there. He kept evaporating into smoke at the last second, teleporting just out of reach, laughing all the while. "Look how manly you are Kanji-kun! So violent! So strong! But we both know what you are really like..."

The other Kanji teleported to the other side of the room, and Kanji took the opportunity to get his breath back. Sweat was beading on his forehead in the heat of the room, and his breathing was laboured. His head really hurt, and it was so damn hot… Kanji could have sworn that there wasn't a bed of hot coals in the middle of the room a moment ago.

"Oh this place is heating up! Such a fine display. It makes me so hot and bothered- is that what you want Kanji-kun? For me to be impressed…?" The other kanji undid the top button of his jacket and let it fall from his shoulders to the floor. Gripping the bottom of his t-shirt, he pulled it over his head in a fluid movement, leaving him shirtless. His pale flawless skin was enshrouded in thick fog and steam. His hands were resting on the belt of his trousers, about to undo the buckle, a teasing come-hither look in his eyes.

"The hell… the hell are you doing!?" Kanji's voice was tight, pained, threatening to crack for the first time since his voice broke. He was grimacing, teeth clenched. The world had shifted again; there was no mistaking it - this was a bathhouse. The other Kanji stripped out of the trousers, and was admiring himself, as if seeing his body for the first time.

"You try so hard to be manly; just look at you…" he gave a soft murmur of delight and arousal "all muscle and those shoulders…" He was caressing himself, running his hands over his own body, over his chest. "Always trying to prove yourself, prove that you are a guy."

"S-Shut up! I am a guy, dammit!"

"Oh yes, let's look at what you have become! All those fights, skipping school. Is that better than giving in to what you truly want? No one accepts you. I could find you someone here, in this steamy paradise…"

"Fuck no! What the hell are you implying!"

"Do I really have to spell it out to you Kanji-kun - everyone can see me here." He gestured around the room, to the newly manifested studio-lights and stage rigs. "They can see you as you want to be. I have their undivided attention. That elusive thing you strive for, he'll come here…"

"..." Oh fuck no. What did he… people can see…? Who…? W...Where am I?

"Don't believe me? Watch!" He leapt up onto the stage and posed as if in front of a camera. The light snapped on, spotlight focussed on him. Kanji swore he could hear music. "Hel-Lo, dear viewers… it's time for "bad, bad bathhouse"! Tonight, I'll introduce a superb site for those searching for sublime love that surpasses the separation of the sexes! I'm your host, Kanji Tatsumi, serving you this scandalously special sneak-in report! Goodness gracious, just imagine the things that might happen to me there! Oh! Well then, let's get this show on the road! Tootaloo!"

Kanji looked afflicted, watching, his jaw dropped as his mirror image posed and pouted and flirted. The bastard said his name. Was this being broadcast? Was he on TV?

He had to get out of here. Hitting the bastard hadn't worked; the hell is wrong with that? Time to run.

Kanji turned from his other self and sprinted down the corridor. The door at the far end was closed; he didn't slow down as he approached and crashed into it, slamming it open with his shoulder. There was another corridor. He sprinted down this one too, skidding around the corner as he noticed slightly too late that it bore to the right. Another door. He slammed this one open too, and was met with yet another almost identical corridor.

The other Kanji was laughing, his voice echoing behind him.

Kanji tore through the building, getting almost frantic. Corridor. Stairs. Room. Corridor. It was so god damned hot. He was slowing down. His breathing was ragged, his blood pounding in his ears, lungs heaving. It was so noisy. Cat calls, wolf whistles, promises of sex, companionship with men. The other Kanji's voice just didn't shut up; telling him that he would be back, and back into his waiting arms, soon enough.

The place was like a maze. He lost track of the number of doors he had opened, the number of stairs he had gone down, only to loop round to a place he swore he had been to before. Doors were locked at random, others so heavy it took all of his strength to push them open. All the while he heard the other him, that imposter's lisping, irritating voice, omnipresent, echoing through the building, recounting every pathetic thought and memory Kanji had ever had.

"Oh, I hope he likes me. He said I was interesting - what did he mean?" The other Kanji was deliberately echoing the words Kanji had thought earlier. "His eyes are so… cute. I could stare into them for hours… I wonder what his lips feel like… his skin looked so soft… oh to have him-"

Kanji growled under his breath. Shut up shut up shut up- Dammit, it didn't mean nothin'; if that is the worst he could do-

As if it could hear him, the other Kanji changed track, his voice higher, mocking, mimicking. "Mommy has some new silk in today! I do hope she gives me some so I can make a dress for my teddie!" Raucous laughter of a crowd followed, startling him; it was coming from everywhere and nowhere. It was like he was surrounded by the noise, by disembodied laughter. Could people really see this? "Shi-chan is so mean! Why did she have to laugh when I told her I thought her bunny was cute?" More laughter. He felt his face become hot. How was he to know boys didn't say that? He was nine for fuck's sake. "Why did Taka-chan cry? I didn't do nothin'!... I don't wanna play baseball! I wanna bake a cake!"

How did he know these things…? I… I haven't told anyone…

"Oh please. I am you. I know everything. How does it feel, Kanji-kun, knowing that no matter what you do no one will accept you? No one has ever liked you. The girls you were friends with in elementary school just laughed at you for liking the same things they did. Remember Yukiko? Remember Takako? Shizuka? The girls in middle school mocked you for enjoying home economics and crafts over sports. You weren't manly then, what makes you think you are now? The boys thought you were strange, the girls thought you were odd."

"I...no...I…" Kanji shook his head and continued down the corridors, trying to block out everything, feeling his face red with shame. Just need to get out of here. I can't see a damn thing. It is too freakin' hot. My damn head hurts...

"Thats why you do it, isn't it? That's why you fight, try to make yourself so masculine, get into fights, so violent and aggressive. You want people to hate you. You want people to hate the thug you try so hard to be.

"How does it make you feel, Kanji-kun, to know people look away when they see you coming? That the teachers at school warn other students by using you as a goddamn example?" The other Kanji's voice shifted slightly, dropping back to being merely an echoey version of Kanji's own, tinged with anger and disgust. "You just gave them something that it is acceptable to hate."

There was a shimmer in the air, rapidly filling with blue-black smoke. The almost completely naked form of the other Kanji formed in front of him. Kanji hated how his own body, lean and muscular, was being paraded in front of him, the imposter flushed with pleasure as he continued his torment.

"They don't see the Truth. You are nothing but a gay mommy's boy who likes sewing and cooking, who is scared of girls! You are just weird."

"N...no. That's not it dammit!" Sweat was rolling down Kanji's face, his face red from anger, exhaustion and guilt.

"You prefer men. Men are so much better. That's why I'm here. Just accept it Kanji-kun."

"...no…" I… I can't stay here. The dull ache of a punch was one thing; he had felt that before, but there was something about this place which sapped his strength. Everything hurt.

His head was spinning, the dull pounding from his headache growing. The room was tilting dangerously. There was a door up ahead. Kanji pushed it open. He was back in the first room; large and cavernous, adorned with the trappings of the bathhouse. Studio lights above him and a golden screen behind a stage at the far end.


? May 2011

Kanji was exhausted; his hair was plastered to his head with sweat, his shoulder hurt from barging the doors with it and he felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. He was staring at the floor, not seeing anything, shoulders slumped.

The room was quiet, for now. He had no idea where the other guy was, but he wasn't here and that meant he could get a few minutes peace. It wouldn't be long before he returned and began his torment anew.

He sat with his back against a pillar, shivering despite the immense heat of the room. he clung to his jacket, wrapping it tightly around him. He hurt everywhere. His head hadn't stop hurting ever since he woke up in this place and now he had physical fatigue on top of that. He was sick of the fog. He was sick of the steam. He just wanted to go home.

He couldn't tell how long he had been here - it didn't seem too long ago that he first awoke in this world and saw...him… for the first time, but listening to him reveal all of his secrets, every single dark and guilty thought- there had been so many of them; he had to have been here hours.

The worst thing was, that other...him… it was right. Maybe. Perhaps this was the only way he could be accepted; he sure as hell wasn't accepted for who he was before.

"Oh Kanji-kun…" He was back. Kanji grimaced and tried to ignore that sing-song voice. It was just so freakin' irritating. The other Kanji walked over and stood in front of him, dressed in nothing but a towel slung low around his waist. He was standing with his weight on one foot, one hip jutting forward; a feminine stance. From this distance Kanji could see the sheen of sweat on his skin, and a blush high on his cheek bones.

"Whadda you want?" His voice was hoarse. He met his other self's gaze and glared at him. He was too tired to do any more. The other Kanji giggled and gestured to himself.

"Accept it. This is what you want to be, right? A guy's guy?"

"No… I..."

"It is so easy Kanji-kun! Just be like this… like me... and you can have all the lovers you could ever want. You are certain to charm that delightful young man you so have the hots for. Naoto, was it?"

Kanji grunted, looking away from his other self. He didn't want that…

His shadow began to laugh.