Three Stages of the Collapse

by Milaya Milen Zeal

What is one to do when the person they love is in a happy relationship with another? What is one to do when they cannot let go? Is it possible for someone like that to learn to love someone else? Or is such a person cursed to live forever in despair? NeJo, one-sided ?/Neku, mentioning of Joshua/Rhyme and Shiki/Eri. Rated M to be safe. -WARNING- Make time for the last stages.

3. Stage gamma - The Collapse

Three Stages of the Collapse

Fandom: The World Ends With You

Pairing(s): Neku/Joshua, one-sided ?/Neku (try to guess the identity), past Joshua/Rhyme and Neku/Shiki, mention of Shiki/Eri.

Setting: AU

Summary: He feels like he had been abandoned, and yet he remains ever trusting of Him. He told him to wait for Him, and so he waits… and waits… and waits…

Writing style: Third person thought perspective. Present tense, no names mentioned unless spoken. (Style first used in "Once Upon A Me")

Author's note: So I was just looking at this story and realized... it's been THREE YEARS since I last updated... and I sincerely apologize for the delay. Secondly, I apologize for the length, but I think many of you expected it for this story. And thirdly... *passes out tissue boxes and runs*

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Stage gamma - The Collapse

A pair of startled purple eyes look up to him as he moves back and he holds his breath as he waits for His response to what he has just done, but he already knows fully well that, whatever kind of response it is, it will never be the response his heart is begging for. And yet, knowing this, he remains where he is, feeling just a tad hopeful when there is no immediate response, but that small ray of hope is soon extinguished as He shuts His eyes and snaps His hands up to push him away without looking and he merely allows it to happen and allows himself to be thrown back and away to land harshly on his back with such force that he is sure there will be bruises later.

He already knew it was coming long before it happened… but he is still not prepared for the lance of red hot pain that rips through his heart and renders his entire body motionless as a result. All he can do is stare up through his blurred vision to the dark skies above, and wish for this all to end. His back hurts, aches and burns, but it is nothing compared to the pain that spreads though his entire frame from where his heart rests… although it almost feels like there is nothing left of his heart at this point.

"…what… the hell was that about?!" he hears Him say, and he can already tell that He is displeased, and very much so, and it only makes his heart throb all the more in pain. "You… wh-why did you just…?!"

"…I told you… didn't I…?" he says slowly, without moving from where he lays upon the cold stone, because he feels like there is no more point in moving anything. "I hate you… I hate… everything about you… and yet I… can't bring myself… to stop loving you…"

"Y-you…! Wh-why… this… this isn't funny, Neku! You–"

"…I'm… not trying to be…"

When he blinks once, a tear rolls down from his eye to roll down into his hair, and he wants to wipe it away, but his hands will not move from where they lay, as all of his emotional pain has rendered his body almost entirely motionless, and even breathing has become, quite possibly, the most painful action he has ever had to do. He wants to cry, cry so hard and so long until all his tears have dried and the pain has gone away, but he fears that neither his tears nor the pain will ever end once he starts.

When He moves again, he does not hear what He does or how, and in all honesty he can no longer consider the different options because, like everything else, it no longer matters to him, and he does not even react when He is right over him, grabs him by the collar of his shirt and then drags him up to his feet again. It is all that is keeping him upright, but even before it happens, he already knows what is coming and so he shuts his eyes and keeps his entire body relaxed, so that when His fist connects with his jaw, the damage would be minimized, though, really, he does not even feel the hit as it snaps his head to the side, nor does he feel the second collision with the ground. His back aches, he feels a slight burn in his jaw, but he does not feel pain from either, despite how he knows that they both happened and how they should hurt.

"You… you love me?! Bullshit!" He shouts out, and he keeps his eyes shut now, because he does not want to know what kind of expression He has at that time, since he knows he will crack and then break down. "You say that and yet you're happily in a relationship with someone else! So… what?! You thought I wasn't worth your time anymore?! You say I don't think about you… but did you ever stop to think about me?! Did you ever stop to think what I would say?! Or was the whole thing a joke to begin with?! Just to see how I would react! Was that it?!"

No, it is not a joke, he wants to say, and he has thought about what He would say about the whole situation, has thought about it so many times that he had memorized every possible outcome that, while based on nothing but his own fears and thoughts, are hauntingly accurate to how things have turned out now.

He wants to say that to Him… but…

He cannot speak…

His mouth will not move…

His voice no longer works…

He cannot even lift his eyelids again, even though the salty water collected under them is stinging his eyes so painfully and they are screaming at him to get it out. As much as he wants to speak, he has no suitable response for Him, because nothing he can say will likely be able to appease Him, and in the back of his mind he wishes he could summon up his anger again, so that at least he can speak again, but he has used it all up already, leaving him with an emptiness that makes him feel like he is not even there physically. It is like he is merely a bystander, watching a tragic scene unfold of which he already knows the outcome. He wishes he could do something, anything, but nothing will work anymore. He cannot even twitch a finger and he finds himself wondering… wishing… did his heart stop?

Did he… die?

But no… he can feel his heart as it continues to hammer against his ribs, feels the agony that rips through him from there as the tears continue to flow endlessly, and he wants to cry, wants to scream for someone, anyone, to make the pain stop… and a dark, haunting, all too familiar thought passes through his mind…

…I want to die…

The thought remains in both the background and the foreground of his mind, and he does not have the strength to push it away any longer, especially as He is right there and once more pulls him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

"Goddammit, Neku! Will you say something already?!"

If only it was so simple, but He clearly does not understand the level of pain that he is currently going through that has rendered his entire body motionless, and perhaps He does not even notice the tears as they continue to flow from his shut eyes, but a small section of his heart prays that He does and that He will stop this torture here before He rips him apart and nothing remains to patch together, though maybe he has already long since passed that point. Surely, surely his heart had been reduced to little more than dust already, despite how he could still feel it pounding so painfully within his chest, and his nerves had gone numb entirely by then, because he cannot even feel his own tears, though maybe they have already stopped, but no, he is sure that they still flow, because they have no reason to stop…

"Dammit, Neku, you little…!"

The words sound almost dulled out, but he knows that a second hit is coming as He releases his shirt with one hand, and so he only waits for the pain that he knows he will likely not feel…

…but nothing happens…

"That's enough, Yoshiya."

When he hears those words, he knows immediately who is there, and he wants to open his eyes to look, but it is just so hard and his eyelids are just so heavy… he simply does not have the strength left that is needed to lift them and look to them.

"…! Kuja?! What are you-"

"The one that should be asking that is I," they say in a voice that is so cold that he is sure that something somewhere has just frozen up, and then his support drops and he is sure that if they had not caught him just as it fell away, he would have fallen down to hit the ground again. "You say you are friends… and yet you would strike him without hesitation? If that is how you treat your friends… how is it that you treat your enemies?"

"Th-this has nothing to do with-"

"It has everything to do with me, Yoshiya. You already know that Sakura-kun and I are dating, so did you truly think that I would just stand by and watch you hurt him?"

"Y-you…!"

"I am through discussing this with you," they say then, and he is briefly aware of them bending down and placing one arm under his knees before they stand again, holding him up in their arms as though he were a woman, as though he weighed absolutely nothing to them, but he could not bring himself to care about this position, regardless how embarrassing it would likely look.

He simply did not care anymore…

"Where are you going?!"

"That is none of your concern. Sayonara, Kiryuu."

They are walking then, he can feel it as his body is jostled lightly in their arms, and the sound of He and them talking ceases almost immediately, but he does not care about any of that, as it just holds no more meaning to him in the same way that nothing had meaning any longer.

Numb…

That is all he feels now; numb, he cannot feel his own pain anymore, because his brain has likely shut off his nerves in order to suppress the intense pain that, just a few scant moments ago, had threatened to tear him apart starting from the place where his heart was located, or used to be, he was sure now, because, despite how he heard it pounding inside his chest as the sound reverberated through his ears, he could not "feel" it doing so.

And still he hears His cold words echoing through his skull, further spreading out the numbness they created until he is certain that this numbing feeling will spread to his lungs and render him unable to breathe, but he finds that a dark, desperate part of him that resides in the very back of his mind is begging for this to happen, wants his breathing to stop and his heart to stop beating, all to stop those horrible horrible recollections of His voice uttering the words that caused this pain in the first place.

Make it end, he heard his own thoughts whispering to him, make the pain stop, make it go away and never return, and he wants to do exactly that, but he has no idea how he possibly can.

"Sakura-kun… look at me… please, dear… look at me…"

The words sound faint, but he knows right away who is speaking, knows right away who is calling him and begging him to open his eyes and to look at them, but his eyes refuse to obey him and the lids remain firmly shut over his eyes, leaving him to hang in the darkness that he feels perfectly represents what is going through him at that time. Even when he is lightly jostled by them, he is unable to lift his eyelids even slightly, but he finds that he really does not want to open them anyway.

"Sakura-kun… please… please just open your eyes and look at me… please…"

It is so difficult to hear anything, and even hearing their words appears to require much more effort than it really should, and he just wishes that everything would end right that instant if only to save him any more pain, because he cannot take any more of this…

As he thinks once again about how he just wants his life to come to an end and how painfully difficult it is for him to just breathe, there is a familiar touch upon his lips, and it makes his mind pause its dark and dreary thoughts to try and focus themselves on what is happening and to try to remember what this feeling that feels oh so familiar is again. Finally, he is able to place it and he remembers this feeling as their lips connecting with his own in a kiss, but something about the touch seems different from how he remembers it last, because he remembers their touch as soft and gentle or hot and passionate, either one, but their touch is somehow different now and he does not understand why.

But then there is another touch on his cheek and his skin twitches when it does because it is so hot despite it being so small, and this touch he does not recognize in the slightest and yet deep down he knows that he should know it, yet the meaning eludes him. Despite how it is so difficult to do so, he tries to make his eyelids work again, to lift them and to see what is happening, and why that last unknown yet familiar touch now moves down his cheek and down to his neck.

When finally he is able to open his eyes again, they are still kissing him, and he realizes that they are holding on to him tightly, one of their hands gripping his shoulder and the other hand holding his head turned up to face them, and he is a little surprised that he has not even noticed them doing so. He can only blink slowly, though with every blink he seems to slowly regain the power he needs to move again, despite how he really does not wish for it, but as his vision clears he notices what was the cause of that last touch upon his face, and when he does, he can only stare until they pull back to look at him.

When they see that his eyes have opened again, they breathe out with a smile that seems to tremble almost, and they whisper softly, as though it was meant to be more to themselves rather than him: "Oh thank goodness… I thought you… I-I was afraid you had…" but they do not finish and instead pull him up flush against them, releasing what he can only call a relieved sigh as they murmur: "I was so scared… please… don't ever do that to me again…"

"…Ku…ja…" he is able to get out, but only barely, and he is by some sort of miracle able to finally move his arms so that he can place his hands on their shoulders to lightly push them back just slightly because he needs to be absolutely sure that he just saw what he thought he saw on their face barely a moment ago. "Ku… a-are you… crying…?"

They blink once, and when they do, drops of pure crystalline liquid flow down along their cheeks and he now comes to realize that one of them had just hit him on his cheek, and they do not even bother to wipe those tears away from their eyes as they speak again: "Of course I am! Why would I not?! You were… I thought you…" But their words never come out properly and instead they pull him closer again with a small whimper. "It was like you were dead…" they finally admit, and he feels something like surprise wash over him, but he does not speak and instead allows them to cling to him like how a child clings to their favorite teddy. "I was… scared… I was honestly terrified that I might lose you… please… don't ever do that again… please…"

He finds it difficult to understand why they are crying, because this is the first time that he has ever seen them shed a tear outside of his work, where he is able to summon up tears but even then he can only shed two or three tears, and certainly no more than that, and the fact that they are able to summon up tears should have given him pause, should have given him every right to doubt and hesitate about the sincerity behind their words, but he did not. He feels their body tremble against his own, feels the tears as they fall down upon his shoulder, where he fears they will burn away at his skin because of the heat, and he knows that such things cannot be imitated as simply as a few tears shed upon a stage, and he knows that they honestly care about him, and that it hurts them to see him in so much pain, and as this piece of knowledge hits home, he finds himself feeling worse as the seconds tick by and he is able to lift his arms and hold on to them tightly.

"I'm… sorry…" he is able to get out with a voice that does not even sound like his voice in the slightest, but it does not matter, he determines quickly, as the reason for his pain resurfaced in his mind, making him want to cry as badly as them, but he holds himself back. "I just… it's just… I-I…" He has to stop and breathe for a few long moments before he whispers in a voice than can only be called broken: "I was… rejected… I knew… I knew I'd be… and yet I… I…"

They do not speak, but they run a hand through his hair and he feels himself relaxing just a little as he clings to them, shutting his eyes shut to stop his own tears from flowing.

"I'm… such an idiot…"

"Saku… …Neku-kun…" When they say his name like that he blinks in surprise, but they do not allow him to look up to them and instead hold him tightly in their arms. "No one is calling you an idiot for clinging onto hope… Not I, not Sanae, and not Kurasa, either," they say softly and they run one hand through his hair while the other rubs his back in a way that can only be called soothing. "To hold onto your hope for so long, even when you are almost entirely certain that your feelings will never be returned, to be able to do so… I can only call you brave, truly." They pause then for a long moment, as though they are debating on what needs to be said, before they speak to him again, never once releasing him from the light but firm hold they have on him. "I wish I could tell you that I know what it feels like to lose a loved one, but I would be lying if I did, and I do not wish to cheer you up with such cheap lies… but I do know this; you need to let go. I know that you do not want to let go… but you have to, dear. You have to…"

"…I know…" he says those words so quietly that he almost wonders if he had even spoken at all or if had just imagined himself doing so, as he tightens his grip on their clothes. "…I know… but… I don't… I don't think… hic… I don't think I can… I… I… hic…"

"Ssshh… I know, dear, I know…"

Their fingers are so soft and so gentle as they stroke through his hair, and he wishes quietly for this to never end, because he knows that once this comes to an end he will be forced to return to life once again and he is uncertain if he will ever be able to face anything in his life ever again, but he knows that he will likely not have a choice because he knows now better than anyone that life is cruel like that…

"Neku-kun… I have a confession to make…" they whisper after a long, long moment of silence and he blinks once as he tries to look at them, but they hold him back, at least for a moment as they seem to be trying to collect their wits, before they gently pull him back to look him in the eye, but he can see a hint of worry and anxiety that is clearly visible in their eyes, even to someone who is not an expert in dealing with emotions of others like he is. "Neku-kun… I think… I may just be in love with you."

The words are sudden, but they are honest and sincere, laden with their uncertainty in regard to their own emotions, so while the meaning of the words is just as much of a surprise to him as the person who told him the words, it is only truly the timing of it that throws him slightly off guard and in the back of his mind he is wondering why he is not any more surprised at those words than he is, because he is sure that he should be feeling a lot more of it than he currently is, and yet he cannot bring himself to be. He wonders to himself if, maybe, His rejection has broken him more than he had initially thought to be possible, but he quickly dismisses the notion not only because of how ridiculous it sounds, but also because he can feel the beginning of a new wave of pain rising up from his chest, which urges him to shove those treacherous feelings aside quickly before they can numb his senses again.

"I… I apologize if I have startled you… and… after what you have been through… I… I understand if you believe… that I will be unable to provide what you wish to receive… but I-"

He quickly decides that, as fun as it is to listen to them rhyme in a panicked state, he does not want them to misunderstand his silence as outright rejection, but he does not want them to think that he has completely accepted the confession, and so he has decided to take the middle road to prove to them both that he does not reject them and also that he is still willing to continue being with them by moving in and wrapping his arms around them in a hug, though he is still considerably weaker than he ever remembers being. His embrace effectively shuts them up and he can feel them tense, but it only lasts for a moment and they soon return the gesture and he and they then lapse into a long silence that does not feel forced or painful and is more thoughtful than anything, and that is fine with him, because he needs that time to think…

Because he wants the pain to end, and yet he still cannot bring himself to completely write off his feelings for Him as much as he wants to, but he knows that he has to at this point, because he now knows without a shadow of doubt that He will never return his feelings, no matter how long he waits for Him.

"…th…thank you…" he is able to get out amidst his rasping breaths and his quiet sobs, as he holds on tight and refuses to let them go. "…for… for being there for me… for always… always taking care of me… thank you… for everything…"

"…Anytime, Neku-kun… anytime…"

He can clearly hear his heart pounding now, but as he remains where he is, he begins to wonder if what he hears really is his heart alone because he almost swears that it sounds echoed, which is rather odd, though he does not really question it, though that is mostly because he does not want to question it too much, because thinking is bad, he has come to realize…

He and they remain sitting for a while longer in silence, and while he does not want to move, he knows that it is not possible to stay there and await the end of the world, as tempting as it is to him at this specific time, so he really is not so surprised when they place a kiss along his temple and murmur that it is high time for them to get up again, though it feels much too soon for him, still, and he voices his thoughts with a quiet whine and by securing his arms around them tighter, unwilling to let go. He honestly does not want to return again… because it will only mean more pain in the end, he is certain of this fact…

"Neku-kun, come now… how am I supposed to hand you my gift if you cling to me like a cicada?"

…gift?

He blinks his eyes open, and he briefly wonders how long they had been closed, before he gradually loosens his hold so he can look at them to voice his thoughts, which makes them smile at him in something that he believes is amusement but he is not entirely sure about that one.

"Close your eyes."

When they say that, he is very tempted to pout and say that he has only just opened them again, but before he can start, they add in "please" and he does as he is asked after only a moment, and he is half-expecting another kiss from them, but would a kiss really be something special this far in their relationship? And as he waits with his eyes shut there is a sudden weight that falls upon his chest, but it is not so heavy that it would have one crumble under it, and it was in fact barely noticeable if you did not pay attention to it, though he was slightly distracted by their fingers as they ghost over his neck, but the touch is only there for a few brief moments and then it is gone.

"Open them and look down."

He obeys their words without question and looks down to his chest where he feels the weight has settled and when he finally sees what they did he is sure that his jaw has just dropped open in a combination of awe and surprise. With shaking fingers he reaches up and touches the black, circular pendant with the silver imprint that is shaped like a tribal-styled skull, and he almost flinches away when his fingers touch it because he had been expecting it to be a silly little daydream. But it does not disappear, and this is what urges him to reach out again and lightly touch it with trembling fingers as he continues to wonder if what he is seeing is real or not.

"Do you like it?"

What a silly question, he thinks to himself, but he has a feeling that they are not really expecting much of a verbal answer anyway, so he does not give one as he continues to finger the item that now rests along the folds of his shirt. His voice fails him when he does try to speak, and so he gives up on it at his third attempt and instead he enfolds the small pendant in his hand and moves forward to kiss them firmly, as he feels it to be the best way to express his feelings at that specific point in time and they only chuckle and hold him close as they return the kiss without a word of complaint. Even when he pulls away after what he is sure is at the very least five minutes, they do not complain and only smile up at him without a word said while their hand rests in his hair and he tries again to speak, but again, the words fail him, and so he merely moves forward to rest his face on their shoulder.

"…th…thank you… thank you so… so much…"

"Anytime, Neku-kun… anytime…"

He holds on tight, still, unwilling to let go, even as his consciousness gradually slips away from him, and while he does not know how much time has passed by the time they gently shake him by his shoulder, he really does not care about it, as they whisper to him that it is time to go home, and he only hums in response to their words while rubbing at his eyes. They lead him to their ride, and ask him curiously if he feels awake enough to ride, and he grumbles something that he does not immediately remember saying, but it is enough to make them chuckle softly in a way that is far too familiar, and a memory of that day returns to him and he wonders…

"…you're brothers…"

"…so you did notice…" they murmur softly, and they give a soft sigh as they pull out the helmets. "Yes… yes, we are… or… perhaps 'were' is the better term to use." He remains silent as they turn to him and place the helmet on his head and work on the clasp. "Mother and Father… they disowned me when they found me in a rather… awkward position with Kurasa."

When they say those words, it is as though a heavy block of ice has just been deposited roughly into his stomach, for he instantly believes to know what kind of position they are speaking off and the thought is both surprising as it is alarming, and the words that flow from his mouth are a clear testament of this.

"Wait… you and Kurasa were…?!"

"It was a long time ago…" they admit honestly, looking him straight in the eye when they say it. "It was… mutual interest, really. There was no real, deep meaning to our relationship… but I can speak of this when we arrive, if you still wish me to."

Did he really want to know, he wonders absently to himself, because the thought of them and their friend together in a way other than friends seems almost like a lie to him, but perhaps it is not as strange as he initially thought it to be, and the longer he spends thinking about it as they drive on, the more he realizes that the close friendship they and their friend share may just be built up around the fact that they were once much closer, but to know for certain he knows that he will have to ask them when this ride is over and they are safely inside with him.

The trip seems to take forever, and he spends most of this time merely thinking about whether or not he truly wishes to know about their past with their friend or not, and while it is tempting for him to simply forget that the subject had ever even been brought up, he knows all too well that if he has no answer to his questions he will begin to second-guess everything. And so, as they pull up their ride in front of his place, he asks them to come up and they seem to know already what he has decided upon, as they do not say anything on the matter and instead follow after him once they have locked and secured their ride.

The trip upstairs to his apartment takes only a little while, but it seems to take endlessly long for him and even longer to walk the short distance from the elevator to his room and then inside, and he cannot understand why it does, but he decides not to question it and instead he sits down on his bed and they join him there shortly afterwards. For a long time, they sit and wait for him to speak, and he tries to collect his wits before he asks the question that he is sure they are already waiting for, and it takes him a good few minutes before he can ask them.

"…Kuja…"

"…yes?"

"…you… Kurasa and you… what did you…?"

They give him a small smile and shut their eyes for a moment, as though they need focus on something, before they speak after opening their eyes again. "Kurasa… he was my… well, he was a classmate of mine long ago. We shared many of our classes, but we never really got along well, at first. He was constantly one to be looking for trouble, something he was very good at… still is, now that I think of it, but at that time, I had always tried to keep him away from me." They pause briefly to exhale and shake their head as though in resignation before they continue speaking; "Kurasa, on the other hand, seemed intent on getting my attention any way he could due to my tendency of outright ignoring his very presence. One thing led to another, and I rapidly found myself ensnared in his… 'world', I suppose you could say, due to a case of curiosity on my part. Mother and Father were, obviously, displeased… and thus they disowned me when I refused to give my newly found world up."

They sigh softly with their eyes shut, in a way that he is certain can only mean they are reliving the day that they were cast out by their own family, and though he does not know what that is like, he can imagine that it must have been terrible and, most of all, painful.

"That was almost fifteen years ago, now… and despite the fact that I have never seen anyone of my family during those years, it was not difficult for me to recognize Yoshiya…" They smile then, and as they continue, he can almost swear they sound wistful. "He really has not changed at all during those years… he is still as resentful of me as he was when I was cast out…"

He does not speak as they finish talking, as he is feeling very uncertain about what he feels now, because despite how they admit that they had been in a relationship with their friend over fifteen years ago, which likely means that their relation with their friend had been brought to a close for almost just as long, it does not change the fact that they had been with another before him. This is something that does not sit well with him, but he knows that no matter how much he wishes for it, he cannot change the past in any way, and this leaves him with little choice but to accept this fact for what it is.

"Neku-kun…"

He blinks when his name is called and he turns back to them, uncertain when he had looked away in the first place, but he does not have much time to wonder, as they reach out and run a tender hand through his hair, and this immediately puts him at ease somewhat with the entire scenario.

"I apologize for what I have done… but I cannot change it… I-"

"I know…" he whispers softly, and he sighs as he leans forward and allows his head to rest against their chest, and he allows them to wrap their arm around his shoulders silently, as he understands that to allow himself to dwell on a relationship that has long since ended is little more than a waste of time and energy, and it will not change what has already happened. The past cannot be changed, nor is it possible for people to forget entirely, but he knows that in order to surpass the past, he will have no choice but to learn to live with the choices he has made, and the same goes for them as well.

"Neku-kun… are you upset?"

"…no…" he admits quietly with a small shake of his head without moving from where he is leaning against their collarbone. "No… that would make me a hypocrite…"

"…Yes, I suppose you are right…"

He wishes so badly to say something, but he has no idea what it is he wants to say, and so he remains quiet and waits, hoping that they will speak first, and yet they, too, seem to be waiting for him to break the silence first, and this leaves them in a state of silence that neither of them know how to pierce through with words. And as time gradually passes, they eventually scoot back on the bed and tug him along so that they are now both lying sideways on the bed, still facing each other, though his head is still resting on their chest despite the shift in position, and his arms come up to wrap themselves loosely around their back only a moment after they do the same thing, and it is not until he and they have been in that very position for a good few minutes that he realizes that he has completely forgotten to take off his shoes, but he cannot bring himself to care about that now…

It simply does not matter enough…

He does not remember if he simply shut his eyes for a moment or if he actually drifted off to sleep like that, but when he opens his eyes again and he looks up to them, he realizes that they have their eyes lightly shut as well, and their light breathing hints at the fact that they are likely asleep as well, and as this registers in his mind, he moves back just a little so that he can properly look at them, because he has never really looked at them when they were asleep, he realizes. Normally, when they spend the night beside him, they are always the one to wake up first, and as such he has never truly seen them when they are asleep, so he remains silent and watches them as they continue to sleep peacefully.

Yet as he watches, he cannot help but compare once more and his weary mind offers him no resistance to do so, as his mind paints away some of their hair to make it appear shorter and its style a little more curly than how it currently is, and it is not until he has been staring at them like that for almost a minute that he realizes what he has just done and he feels both shocked, disgusted and ashamed that he would continue to think of only Him even now when he knows that his feelings will never be returned. Not only that, but it is also unfair to them that he is unconsciously trying to replace them with Him, especially after the confession they had sprung upon him earlier, even though they had admitted that they were merely assuming that those were their true feelings.

And yet he could not help but wish desperately for something he was well aware would likely never come to pass, but he forces those thoughts away quickly with a firm shake of his head and swiftly moves in to place a kiss upon their lips as they sleep, and they let out a satisfied moan from the back of their throat in response before they open their mouth to return the gesture, even when their body is fast asleep, before their hands reach up to place themselves upon the side of his head to prevent him from leaving, and he is in no position to deny them anything, because he needs this more than ever now, and he cannot help but think on the few times that he instigated anything, but that, too, is quickly pushed away to the very back of his mind, as he intends to do as their guardian has told him only a week before…

Enjoy the moment

He reaches up and places a hand to their shoulder, lightly pushing them until they are lying on their back on the bed and he is leaning over them, with his mouth still connected to theirs, as he and they are now breathing solely through their noses to prevent asphyxiation, but when he begins to run his fingertips lightly along their side, they groan wantonly and break away to breathe properly, and he immediately moves in to begin placing soft kisses along their neck that eventually shift into small bites. They whine in response at the attention and their hands shift to his back and cling to him as though he was a life preserver and they were a man drowning upon the open sea, but he does not stop what he is doing and instead he only inches up their shirt gradually and allows his fingers to play along their bare skin, and he is rewarded with another deep moan that makes him want to echo the sound, but he holds it in as he begins to move along their throat, drawing more such sounds from their throat and even their back arches up in response, and it makes him smile for a moment, but he drops it so as to focus solely upon what he is doing.

While he knows very well that what he is doing is morally wrong, he just cannot stop his body from moving on its own, though he does hold himself back from going too far unless they wake up fully, which he believes will not take overly long anyway, and his thoughts are proven to be true when he slips his hands under their shirt and moves his fingers there and the motion causes their eyes to slowly flicker open. He does not stop what he is doing, and only waits to see what they will do or say to make him either stop or continue, and it does not take long as they pull their arms away from his back to reach for their shirt in a sleepy attempt to remove it, but it is not working so well so he moves back slightly and tugs the oh so annoying article of clothing over the top of their head, after which he ducks right back down again and immediately latches on to one of their hardened nubs and this makes them cry out and arch up into him, whimpering his name that is followed with a soft plea for more that he is not about to deny.

Their reactions despite being still a little on the sleepy side tell him that they do not object to the sudden onslaught of attention and that they instead revel in it and that is only confirmed by them begging him to give them more and so he obeys, while at the same time moving back to remove his own shirt, because otherwise it is a little unfair to them. He throws the piece of cloth somewhere to the side to be forgotten for the time being as he moves in again and this time immediately goes for their chest and begins to lick along their sweaty skin to draw a long moan from their mouth, and then they whimper out his name as he begins to suckle on their left breast.

He does not even stop to think about how he is suddenly taking charge of the situation or even why he is doing it, because he fears that if he starts to think of it he may just break down entirely. Thus he forces himself to forget about it and he focuses entirely on what he is doing and pays attention only to their wanton cries as they beg him to keep going on and on, and so he does, sucking and licking and biting all while listening to their breathless pleas as he removes the remainder of their clothes without even being fully aware of it, before his own join them somewhere along the ground, but he finds that he really does not care anymore…

"Caaalling, you hear the caaalling…
Caaalling, someone is caaalling…"

The sound is sudden and tears him away from what he is doing and they groan in what he believes is annoyance at being interrupted just when things were about to get good, and he wants to curse and cry at being interrupted just as much, but he does not because he knows it will do him no good and instead he turns away and begins to lick up the droplets that had begun dripping along their skin, drawing a gasp from their throat before they release another whimper. His phone continues to sing on and on as he moves ever downward and yet he continues to ignore it in favor of continuing what he has begun to do.

"A…aren't you… g-going to… ge… get that…?" they breathe out slowly, but his only response is a dissatisfied hum before he opens his mouth wide and swallows and then they cry out so loudly he almost fears the neighbors will hear, but the thought does not remain in his head for overly long as he focuses on more important matters, and he absently finds himself humming along with his phone as it starts all over after a brief moment of silence. He is sure it will stop soon, because he knows that people generally try up to three times before giving up, though perhaps the stubborn will keep going until four, but certainly no more…

But it rings at least six times…

Then seven…

Eight…

They groan in clear annoyance at the prolonged noise and then without warning snap their back upward and move to the floor without ever shifting their lower body and they find and pick up his pants after which they need only a moment to find his phone and to fish it out before they flip it open on the last ring and then place the purple object to their ear with a cheery though slightly strained greeting, that has him want to look up, but they place a hand on the back of his head in a way that he realizes means that they will sort it out. But as the thought finishes in his head, a different thought enters his mind and he allows a smirk that goes unseen as he brings up his hand just as they begin to talk again.

"Hm? Why I am here? Should that not be obviouss-!" they say into his phone, and he has to resist the urge to chuckle at how they hiss at the end of their sentence, for which he knows he is responsible. "I am here to vanquish his fear. Are you so oblivioous! Neku-kun!" they hiss out to him, but all he does is smirk a little in response to the look and all they can do is pout miserably until the person on the other side of the line catches their attention again. "Oh, nothing serious. We are merely playiiiiing a-a game of s-sorts… You need not worry abaaaAAAH! Neku-kun! Don't do that so suddenlyyyyy oh my god!"

They are now clutching onto the purple object held to their ear and their entire frame is shaking like a leaf as they gasp feverishly for breath by the time that he finally moves back enough to catch his breath and to wipe his mouth just a little, while they gaze up to him with glazed over eyes that were wordlessly begging him to give them more as a thin trail of saliva came out from the corner of their mouth, and talking appears to be the last thing on their mind as he moves closer.

Maybe it is the fact that he has just had his heart broken by his first love whom also happens to be, or have been at best, his best friend, or maybe it is the fact that they look so much like Him that he has unknowingly begun to act upon the desire of his heart as it lusts and longs for Him, or maybe it is simply the fact that whatever worries he has seem to dissipate when he is like this with them, but whatever reason he might have, he knows that it does not matter to him at all; nothing does anymore.

Even as he moves those last inches forward and they release a cry that almost reverberates through their whole body, and due to their connection to him now, he senses it quite clearly and he cannot help but moan softly at the feeling, but at the same time, he feels oddly disconnected from his physical body, almost… almost…

…numb…

Even as he moves in and covers their mouth with his own, his body remains numb, unfeeling as though all his nerves have been cut clean through, yet he continues to move and they whine and groan wantonly, one of their hands still grasping onto his phone as though it were a lifeline. As he moves back again, he hears a whisper of his name and he is certain that it is them, because that is the only person it can be, and yet their voice almost sounds like His and this makes him groan as a powerful shudder rips through his spine and all the way down to his toes, banishing a piece of the numbness away, yet it fills him with a sense of deep longing that he cannot push aside. It hurts, and he knows it will likely hurt more once it is over, but he does not want to feel this numbness anymore, this feeling that has him feeling as though he is no longer alive and merely a specter haunting his own body, and so he shuts his eyes and lets His voice echo through his head, allows it to fill him with a sense of peace as he continues to move, never speaking a word for fear he may say something he will regret.

His voice drives that horrible numbness away, and he breathes a little easier knowing this, but only a little, yet he chooses not to think on it and he struggles instead only on the moment and nothing else…

Enjoy the moment…

The words resound through his head and a groan that he belatedly realizes is his own reaches his ears, and it is soon followed by a cry that he has difficulty placing until he understands it is not only theirs, but his own as well, and this fact hits him hard and with such force that his vision momentarily blurs and he feels his arms buckle beneath his own weight. For a few long, blissful moments in which he does not have to think of anything, he lays himself down until he is laying against their side, their arms wrapped gently around his back with their fingers tracing patterns along his skin, a fact that makes him shiver lightly in response, and he almost slips right back into the darkness again, but they speak softly to him then, like they really do not wish to.

"Does it still hurt?"

He feels himself flinch sharply when the question is asked, as he understands the reason why they are likely asking him that question, but he remains silent because he does not want to answer and thereby admit to his own feelings, as he knows it will only make things more painful. They do not ask again, but they remain in silence and hold him gently but firmly in their arms, running their fingers slowly along his bare back, as though in silent consolation, and he is so grateful for their very presence there, yet he is unable to put those feelings into words, because he fears that words will never do them justice, and he wishes this moment could last forever…

…and yet…

…and yet…

"…yes…"

The word is out of his mouth before he can say to his mind that it is a bad idea to speak lest he break this tranquility he and they had fallen under, and yet his mouth obeyed not his mind but only his heart as its beat pulsed harshly against his chest, hurting both his ribs, lungs, and his very being.

"…I see…"

They do not sound overly shocked, nor do they seem upset over how long he has made them wait for an answer of any kind, be it vocal or physical, and this fact does not surprise him, because he know like no other how patient and caring they truly are, especially to him. His mind is shouting to his mouth to be silent and leave it at that, but his heart's pleas resound louder than his mind and he speaks slowly, as his vision once more blurs and a by now familiar heat centers in his eyes.

"…he… he tossed me aside… he… struck me… screamed at me… I… I hate him for it… I hate him for making me… making me feel so… so weak… so… pathetic… I hate him… I really do… but I…" His voice breaks then and he chokes, and they place a soft kiss upon his temple to soothe him without speaking a word, and he shuts his eyes and buries his face into their shoulder in response. "Des… despite… all of that… I just… hic… I just can't make it stop… sniffle… I can't… I can't stop… I just can't…"

They do not seem overly surprised or upset about his confession, as they merely hold him close and rub his back in soothing circles with both their hands without saying a word, and he can only cling to them for support, because heaven knows he wants the pain to end forever. He just wants to be happy and live his life the way he wants to once again… that is all he asks for…

"…I don't want this anymore…" he whispers to them softly as he fights back the tears that so desperately cling to the lashes of his eyes, shut vast to deny the tears their passage. "Make it stop, Kuja… please… just… make the pain go away…"

"…Neku-kun…" they speak softly, and for a moment, he fears that the answer will be a resolute no, but they merely pull him closer to them and say, their breath like a quiet wind; "You need not even ask… Whatever you wish for… I will do all that is within my power to grant it to you, I promise."

He can only continue to sob against them, despite his best intentions to stop crying, and slowly slips into a fitful sleep, filled to the brim with horrible nightmares of that night that have him bolting awake in the middle of the night, crying and screaming and kicking and punching until they are able to calm him down and urge him to sleep again, always with the quiet promise that they will be there for him when he awakes. His sleep is restless, for despite his wish to not dream and to simply forget all that has happened, his heart is in so much agony that he finds it to be impossible, even when he tells himself over and over that things are better this way and that he does not need to worry about anything anymore, yet he just cannot let it go…

Even when the morning comes, he feels tired, and he wishes more than anything to stay where he is, securely wrapped up in both the blanket and their arms, warm and safe, and he feels like nothing can harm him there. A foolish thought, he tells himself, but he does not care in the least.

He just does not care anymore…

They are somehow able to get him up from his warm and comfy spot, however, heaven alone knows how they have managed to do so, and he and they spend the day together, almost glued to each other's side, hands entwined and holding on tightly to provide him that little bit of comfort and reassurance he needs in a weak attempt to get his life back on track. The day passes slowly, but he does not mind, as long as they remain by his side as a quiet reminder that he is not alone and that all will be well again, soon.

And when the day has passed, he is almost afraid to let them go, but they whisper to him that they will see him tomorrow, at school, in what has become their little private spot, and he is finally able to let them go home, even though he wishes they could stay with him another night. But despite his growing feeling of loneliness, he is still glad that he was finally able to give them his present for the celebration of he and them being together for so long, and though it was not nearly as expensive, or portable, as their gift had been, they had loved it and kissed him softly in thanks.

And… he felt… happy…

…and yet…

As time passes slowly, he begins to realize bit by bit that he has become almost dependent on them, and even if he does not speak a word of it, he wonders if maybe it is not obvious to those who see him and them together. He feels almost restrained, though he cannot understand why, or if perhaps they feel it, too, and this in turn makes him fearful of a point in time where they will no longer be by his side, but he shoves it aside as old fears that have been born from his "friends" abandoning him so long ago.

But he just cannot shake it off… this fear that he may someday be abandoned again…

But time does not stop for him or his worries, and before he is truly aware he finds that it has been almost two months since that horrible day that his world had come crashing down on him, and he meets up with them and their friend again, who had come back only the week before with news that had blown him away yet had him feeling like smiling and congratulating, as a spark of hope came to life in his heart that, maybe, maybe, one of his once impossible dreams was not as impossible after all…

And yet… and yet…

Time continues to pass steadily, on and on without pause, and before he had been even fully aware, the temperature had begun to drop and he finds himself forced to exchange his loose and easy clothes for warm and cozy sweaters and pants and heavy boots with enough grip to keep him up despite all odds and a scarf wrapped securely around his neck and fuzzy mittens on his hands and his headphones replaced by earmuffs, still purple, of course. He hopes for the temperature to drop enough that the water in the sky will freeze so that when it comes down it will be light and cold and oh so pretty so as to paint the world white, because he loves when that happens, and he wishes so fervently that he almost feels like a child again. But his happy thoughts soon shatter to bits as memories of years before rise to the surface of his mind, and he cannot stop his mind from recalling the time he once spent with Him, frolicking like a pair of loons through the snow, and he is sure they have noticed, even though they say nothing and merely stay by his side…

He decides however to not worry about it too much as he decides to go to their house which is in the back of their guardian's shop and he wonders absently if their friend will be there as well, as their friend has been stopping by on regular occasions now, always to speak with them, but whatever they speak of together, it is dropped whenever he steps into the room.

When he arrives, finally, he greets their guardian, receives a greeting in return and also the notice that they are upstairs and that their friend is there as well and so after thanking their guardian, he walks up the stairs in the back towards their room. When he arrives at the door, he is about to raise his hand to knock, but he stops when he hears something from the crack at which the door had been left.

"Absolutely not."

"Kuj, would you let me finish for once?!"

"No, Kurasa, I don't think I will. What you're suggesting I do is… unacceptable!"

"How is what I'm saying unacceptable? All I'm saying is that you two need to sit down and properly talk about your relationship!"

"I don't need you to tell me what to do, Kurasa. Nor does Neku-kun. We're both old enough to take responsibility for our decisions."

"Which you're not doing, Kuja! You're being childish!"

"Childish?! How am I childish?!"

"Because you're throwing a goddamn tantrum because you know I'm right!"

"I am not throwing a tantrum!"

"Yes you are, Kuja! Now would you shut up and listen to me for once in your damn life?!"

"Whatever for?! You just intend to break us apart because you think we're not—"

"Hanekoma Kuja, would you SHUT UP and LISTEN to me?!"

"…!"

"Look… I'm NOT trying to break you two up. Hell, I actually think you two look good together and I'm not just saying that. All I'm trying to say is… well… …you know what, it'll likely be easier this way; oy! Neku! How long're you gonna stand by the door like that?!"

He freezes when their friend calls out to him, as though he had known he was there all along but simply had not seen the need to speak about it, and the words make him wish to bolt from there and out of the shop and never look back but his feet refuse to budge an inch, even when he hears them get up in alarm before moving toward the door. He knows that he should not have staid and eavesdropped on them and their friend, he knows this very well, and yet he had not been able to force himself to step away when he realized the conversation being held was a rather sensitive one, and now it was too late as the door opens and they stand in the doorway to stare at him silently.

"Oy, Kuj; let the kid in instead of having him stand there, will ya?"

Their friend's words snap them out of staring, and they turn briefly to their friend, then they finally step back and allow him in, but he is not entirely sure if he should at this point. Their friend, however, feels differently and urges him with a wave of the hand to come into the room, and so he feels he has no good reason not to and he slowly walks inside, following them to sit on their bed, close aside one another.

"Okay, you ready to listen now, Kuj?" asks their friend then, but while the words sound almost teasing, their friend's expression is oddly empty.

They sigh, and he knows that they have now resigned himself to listen to whatever it is that their friend wished to speak to him about, but it is clear that they are tense and worried, yet for once he is unsure of how to proceed, because the little he had just picked made him believe that he, too, is not going to like what is about to be said.

"Fine, Kurasa… I'm clearly not able to stop you…"

"Took you long enough to figure out…" their friend said with a small smirk, but the expression lasted for only a moment before his expression was back to the empty one it had been, and this makes him feel even more anxious than he already did upon entering the room, but he refrains from bolting regardless of his own anxiety; he has been trying so hard to not let his fear take him over, and running would only undo all efforts he had made to do so. "You probably figured as much, Neku, but I was talking to Kuja about your relationship. And… well, about how you two need to seriously sit down and be honest with each other."

And he understands then; their friend had seen straight through him, had seen the hesitation, had seen the pain, had seen through to his own haunted emotions and realized… realized that despite them speaking those three solely desired words to him whenever they could, he just could not repeat them… he could not because the words would be… empty…

No meaning, just… empty words with no feeling or underlying emotion…

"And just what do you mean by that?" they grumble from beside him, but he cannot bear to look at them, for fear that they will see it, too, as his emotions threaten to consume him whole, dragging him under to drown in his own sorrow. "You keep saying 'be honest', yet what does that mean? Simply not lying? Hmph. Sorry, dear, but I fail to see the point."

"Kuja."

They fall silent, and he knows that they, too, now realize how serious their friend is being for not responding to the endearment that would have normally resulted in a nasty backlash.

"…There are ways to be dishonest without saying anything."

"…I… I'm not sure I…"

"Neku."

He flinches sharply and he slowly lifts his gaze up to face their friend, as he struggles not to hyperventilate as fear begins to boil in his gut, but he can barely hold their friend's ice blue gaze, Because he knows now perfectly well that the secret he had believed to have kept so well, is not a secret at all. He silently prays, silently begs of their friend to not say what he already knows is coming, because he knows that he cannot lie to him, and it terrifies him more than anything.

"Be honest… where is your head every time you two go out?"

"What are you-"

"Better yet… who is on your mind every time?"

He cannot say it…

He simply cannot… and their friends knows this… he knows…

And because he does not say anything, merely bites his lip and look away so that he does not need to look at their friend, he comes to the horrifying solution that not only does their friend know… so do they now…

"…Ne… Neku-kun…?"

He cannot say it… he tries, and he fails…

Only one phrase makes it past his constricted throat, a single, small phrase that says everything he can never bring himself to say otherwise…

"…I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

It hurts; it really does hurt… it claws at his very being and tries to wrench his heart from his chest as it hammers against his ribs, and no amount of consoling could ease his pain even as they reach over and hug him close, shushing him and claiming it will be alright, because no, no it will never be alright again, because he has just lost everything… again…

He wishes he could have held on, wishes he could have hidden his pain better until he was able to get over it and move on, wishes he could have been a better boyfriend who thought only of his lover for themselves, not another… he wishes so many things, but when all is said and done, no amount of wishing will help him… or them…

The relationship between he and they ends shortly after, but they do keep in touch with him, as does their friend, because as they say, a failed relationship is no reason to cut off ties completely, and he is beyond grateful for their support, as it is the only thing that is keeping him from drowning in the sorrow and depression that has become his life now. When he calls them at midnight, because he simply cannot sleep, they do not chastise him, and talk to him quietly to ease his mind, and when he asks them over because he does not want to be alone, they do not hesitate to do so.

Time ceases to have meaning, and he begins to wander, sometimes all day, even though he should not, because he still has classes, but it simply does not matter to him anymore. He just walks and walks and walks until he has lost all sense of direction and he wonders if anyone even cares that he is not around, for his phone is silent, as it has been for so very long.

As he walks, he recalls a time when he did the same, so many years ago now, uncaring about his education or anything or anyone else, because the world was a dark, cruel place that was out solely to hurt him. And perhaps it is those memories that guide him without him realizing, but when he looks up, he is standing right there, and he freezes in place, recognizing the place as the memories come crashing down upon him like a tidal wave, crushing him beneath their weight and causing his legs to tremble with the effort to keep him upright.

He shuts his eyes against the onslaught of memories, pushes the palms of his hands against his closed eyelids because he does not want to see, but it is like this only makes the memories stronger and clearer and he begins to sob softly.

This was where he first met Him… this was where they met… where they exchanged words for the first time… where they shared so many precious moments… together…

He removes his hands and steps forward, toward the wall that has not changed a bit over the years, untouched, and appearing as new as the day he first saw it and he is almost afraid to touch it, but he does it anyway, and he shuts his eyes, remembering… remembering everything… and his heart is hurting to the point where he fears it will simply pop, and he wants to stop, but he cannot bring himself to do it. He does not want to, even…

And then his phone goes off, and he jumps. He fumbles, tries to flip it open, but his fingers are trembling and it takes much longer than it should to open it and put it to his ear.

"…hello?"

"And just why are you not at school?"

He should have expected their friend to call him, should have known he would worry, and yet he had not even considered the possibility of him calling at that time.

"…I dunno…" he admits softly. "…I just… I don't feel like it…"

"Neku, don't be stupid. You can't just skip school because of a bad breakup."

"I know… I know… but… I don't… I…"

A sigh from the other side. "You don't want to see him after what happened, huh?"

Their friend always knows what is bothering him, always knows what to say to him, and always seems to know everything and he does not know if he is happy or annoyed about that. Happy because he does not need to explain things, or annoyed because it makes it seem like he is an idiot.

"…yeah…"

"Neku… this has to stop. It's not healthy for you."

Of course he knows… of course he does… but he cannot do anything about it; he has already tried so many times, but he has never managed to do it, no matter how much he wanted to, and he really did not need someone else to tell him that he had to do it. If it was so easy, he would have done it already.

"…but I can't…"

"I know, kiddo… I know… But listen; you need to settle things properly. You need closure, do you understand?"

"…? N-no… not really…"

"A'ight fine. Here's what you need to do; call him, explain yourself, and then ask him to start over."

"Start-?! Wha…?!"

"Things aren't going to get any better as they are now; you both need to come to terms with what happened, push it behind you, and then move on. You both made mistakes, and you need to start accepting that you did that before you can move on. So, call him, explain, apologize, and then start over. For both your sakes."

Start over…? Like all this never happened? Was it really so simple…? Had he overcomplicated everything all this time, with the answer being right in front of him with him being too blind to see…?

…was it really so easy…?

"…but… what if he…?"

"Neku, how long have you two known each other?"

"…nine years…"

"Exactly. In all my experiences, I've never met someone who's prepared to just throw away nine years of their life over a squabble, when there's the possibility of things going back to the way they were."

…but he does not want things to go back to the way they were… deep down, he does not want to go back to that time, does not want to go back to the way things once were… because in the long run, he will be forgotten yet again, and he cannot handle that…

"Neku, stop."

"…wha…?"

"You worry too much. Stop it. Call him. Get it over with. Get your closure so you can move on with your life or you may just end up destroying yourself. Please."

Destroy himself… what is there left to destroy? He has nothing left… nothing…

…so then… what will he lose from calling…?

The longer he stands there thinking about it, the more he comes to realize he has less reasons to not call than to actually call Him, but he cannot stop his heart from pounding against his chest like a jackhammer at the prospect, and yet he knows, knows as well as their friend does, that it will be best thing to do.

…he has to…

"…okay… I'll… I'll call him…"

"Good boy. And I expect you to call back once you have his response, understood?"

"…kay…"

They both hang up at the same time, and he finds himself hesitating, because this is not just a small thing he is about to do either way, and his body is already trembling from what he is about to do, and he needs to take deep, calming breaths to even be able to open his list of contacts. When he finally does manage, he hesitates again, his finger hovering over the green button that will allow him to connect the call, his thumb is shaking and he needs to hold it in both hands to keep the phone itself from doing the same.

He breathes, he closes his eyes, he bites his lip, and then he presses down and he puts the phone to his ear before he can take it back, and he waits…

Once... twice… thrice… four times the phone rings… and then there is a click and he sucks in a breath. Silence follows for what feels like hours in which his heart is pounding against his throat, barely letting him breathe as he waits for something… anything… that says it is okay to say something, because he is just so scared that he cannot even open his mouth.

"…what do you want?"

The words are sudden and they make him jump, his heart almost jumping up into his mouth but he swiftly swallows it down as he attempts to speak without his tongue tripping over every single word.

"I… I'm s-sorry… did… did I interrupt something…?"

"Yes."

"…o-oh…" He breathes harder, but he swiftly brings up his hand to muffle the sound until he can control himself again, squeezing his eyes shut against the flood of tears that begin to flow the harsh words resounding in his mind now, as he remembers a time where no matter how busy He had been , there would have always been the time to talk to him, however short or long he needed from Him. "I… I'm sorry… I'll… I'll call back later…"

Anything anything anything to get out of this situation…!

"…wait."

He freezes, unsure, as the single word filters through his panicked mind.

"…it's fine… if it wasn't, I wouldn't have picked up."

"…oh…"

…that is… good… right?

"…so… what do you want?"

He tries to speak, he tries so hard that he almost chokes, but the words fail him as the fear numbs his very being, his hands now clasping tightly to his phone as he struggles to breathe evenly despite his panicked state.

"…I… I just…" he starts slowly, hesitantly, with his fingers clasping tightly to the phone held in his grip as he recalls their friends words and advice, trying so very very hard not to hyperventilate or cry or both, but it is just so hard! "I just… I wanted.. just… I… I-I want to… e-ex… explain a-about… about…"

"…just that?"

"…! N-no…! I… I was… I-I…!"

Why why why why is it so hard?! Why is it so difficult now to say what he wants to say when there used to be a time when he could tell Him everything and talk about nothing for however long he wanted or needed to… why!?

"…so talk."

He tenses on instinct alone, because His voice is so cold and distant, so unlike how he has always come to know him, so unlike the person he has fallen in love with so long ago, and it hurts… it hurts so bad to realize just how much everything has changed, just because he was not able to keep a better lid on his emotions for one stupid moment, and he begins to realize what it was their friend had meant; forget what happened and start over again.

…he wants to start over…

He breathes in slowly, and while his heart still pounds, his mind calms itself enough so as to focus on what it wants and what he knows his whole body needs; closure.

"I… also… I want to… apologize… for what I did…"

"…a… apologize…?"

He breathes a little better when His voice loses its hard, cold edge, and it provides him with the much needed courage he needs in order to keep talking to Him.

"I was… I was angry… and upset… I wasn't thinking straight… A-and I know it's never going to make it right but… I am sorry… I really am… I'm sorry…"

And he falls silent then, breathing only somewhat easier as he awaits His response, but it feels like it takes forever, and he is too afraid to say anything else for fear of sounding too eager for a response, believing it may just drive Him away again. So he remains silent, breathing as quietly as he can and trying to keep his heart from cracking his ribs with its pounding.

"…why?"

"H-huh…?"

"…why did you… go out with him? You… you've never even met him before… …did you?"

Oh… this is about them… but… does that mean he has been forgiven? Or is that too much to ask? He does not dare to ask, so he does not, and puts all his focus on the question he has just been asked instead.

"I… we met in… in a bar, a few months ago… I was… invited by my co-workers to go." He pauses to breathe, because it just hurts so much to relive what began this horrible horrible chain of events. "We were… drunk… we… well… did some things we probably shouldn't have, but… it… just happened…"

"…that's it?"

"I… guess…"

"…you 'guess'?"

He does not want to, he really does not want to, but his emotions are just not working with him anymore, despite his attempts to keep them under his control, because the whole situation is just too much and just too familiar, even if His voice is lacking the usual cheeky sarcasm that he both loves and hates so much…

"W-well what did you expect me to do…?!" he is able to get out, and he tries to hold back, but he cannot… not anymore. "I'm allowed to have a relationship with someone, aren't I? I mean, you didn't say anything when I dated Misaki-chan!"

"That's got nothing to do with this! You—"

"Oh shove off, Josh! It's got everything to do with it! When I date a girl, there's no issue, but as soon as I start dating a guy it's a problem for you!"

"That's not the point! My point is that you don't know him! Why'd you just throw yourself into a relation with someone you know nothing about?!"

"At least he didn't keep me waiting for 4 hours!"

The words are out before he can stop them, and he cannot take them back, no matter how much he wishes he could, especially as the silence that follows those words fills his entire being with dread, and his breath hitches as he tries to come up with something to say, anything at all…!

"…I-I-"

"…I'm sorry…"

The words are sudden and soft, but he hears them nonetheless and his own words die in his throat as his eyes widen, unseeing as if his whole world was centered instead on the words He is saying.

"I should've… called… I just… everything just happened so fast and… I just… forgot everything else. That's… that's no excuse, I know… and it's not going to change anything, but… I am sorry…" A soft breath, a sigh, he thinks, but it does not sound the same as His normal, over exaggerated dramatic sighs. "I know you probably don't believe me, but… I'm sorry…"

He tries to keep his breathing calm, tries to stop his sobs from emerging, tries so very very hard to not let Him know how terribly relieved he really really feels, and he gulps down the lump that is blocking his throat, as he tries to speak again, but he finds it to be so so difficult.

"It's… it's okay…" he is able to get out finally. "I… I guess we… we both did some… stupid things, huh?"

"Yeah… we did…" He agrees with him, and he is able to breathe a little easier now, as a great weight slips from his shoulders as he stumbles back and leans against the painted wall. "We really are screwed up, eh?"

Against his will, his lips curved up into a smile unlike any he has had in the last few years. "Pfft… speak for yourself… jerk…"

"Ouch… now that's mean, dear."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Aww, but why? It's soooo much fun to see you flush,, dear."

"Ah screw you."

He is chuckling, and He is giggling, and it feels so, so good… this bantering back and forth, as if nothing has changed and he has gone back in time to a time where everything was okay between he and Him, a time where he never had to worry about what to say in front of Him, a time where he could just be himself and enjoy the company of his best friend. As silence finally befalls them both, a wave a nostalgia strikes him hard in the gut and his smile fades away slowly.

"…wow…"

"…what?"

"…just… it feels like forever since we… talked like this…"

"…yeah…"

"…you know what?"

"…what?"

"…I… I missed this…"

"…y…you, too?"

"…yeah…"

He swallows again, and he reaches for his chest, gripping there firmly as he feels his heart hammering faster than ever before, and he closes his eyes as he tries to keep himself calm, while their friend's words echo through his head, urging him on down the path he has chosen to walk down.

…start over… start over…

"…Joshua?"

"…yeah, Neku?"

"…we've… both made mistakes… right?"

"…yeah. What are you getting at exactly?"

"I… do… do you…" he begins, but he has to pause in order to gather his thoughts again, before he can continue, "do you want to… start over…?"

"St… start over…?"

"Y-yeah… just… I don't want to forget what happened, but… I don't want to keep having to tiptoe around like this… I just… I want to go back to when… when we didn't have to worry about anything… …is that wrong…?"

"…no… no, of course not…"

He bites his lip, he clenches his hands tight around his phone and in his shirt, as he breathes in deeply but quietly through his nose, trying so hard to not let his anxiety take over, for he hopes, hopes so dearly that his entire body trembles and, he normally never does so, but he finds himself praying… praying for the closure he so desperately needs…

"…I'm sorry…"

…and then it all shatters…

"I… can't do that… I'm sorry, but… I can't and… I… don't want to…"

"…"

"…I just… I can't just turn round and just… pretend that nothing changed… because… things did change and… I can't ignore that…"

"…"

"Just… …Neku…? You… are you still…?"

He hears the words… but he feels nothing… nothing at all…

…nothing…

"…Neku?"

"…I'm sorry…"

"Neku?"

"…that I'm not sorry…"

"Wha-?! Wh-what do you…?!"

"I don't regret what I've done… only how I've done it… so… sorry… that I can't say sorry…"

"What are you talk-… wait, are you talking about…?"

"…ne…"

"Wha…?"

"…I love you…"

"Ne… Neku…?"

"…sayonara…"

And he pulls the phone from his ear, and his thumb immediately finds and presses down the red button, and then holds it down, until the screen turns black, and then his arm drops to hang by his side and his legs slide out from under his body and he hits the ground, the wall the only thing keeping him upright, but he does not feel as his rear touches the concrete below, and he does not feel his own tears as they run down his cheeks, but he knows they are, because he hears the quiet sobs in the silence of the alley that can only belong to himself, he does not feel his body shaking from emotion, but he sees how his body trembles…

A broken sob tears from what he believes is his throat, as he hears his voice sob and cry against his will, his vision blurring along the edges until he can see nothing but a myriad of colors splashed across his retinas, blots of color without shape or meaning. He does not feel pain, but he knows that his whole world has just collapsed; the house of cards that is his life has failed to stay standing and has collapsed around him in a sea of memories he once held so fondly to his heart, but now only looks back on with thoughts of regret and a great sadness that devours his very soul…

Slowly, slowly he gets up, he walks, without purpose, without a goal, he merely walks and walks and walks as the sun sets and blankets the world in darkness, but his legs find the way home despite his mind being miles and miles away, and he drops onto the bed, uncaring of whether or not he is still wearing his shoes or not. His body trembles and his fingers clutch to the sheets, but he still feels nothing… and perhaps it is even worse than feeling the unbearable pain he had always assumed would follow so shortly after rejection…

…useless…

Cold, dark words echo through his head, unchecked and unfiltered…

…pathetic… worthless…

His body feels cold, but he does not care… he no longer can…

…stupid… stupid fool… what were you thinking?

He does not know…

…of course not… of course not… why would He?

He does not know…

…He tramples over you… He crushed your heart…

He knows that…

…foolish… clinging to false hope… He will never love you… will never even like you…

He knows that…

…He can never be happy with you… you cannot make Him happy…

…wrong…

Slowly, he sits up then, gaze empty and unseeing, but he moves regardless, moves around and does what he now knows needs to be done, the last thing he needs to do to find the one thing he needs more than anything…

…closure… an end to it all…

He does not remember what he has done, does not remember if he has even slept, does not remember anything anymore… but he knows what he has to do perfectly fine…

He produces an old, weathered box from below his bed, lifts up the item needed to fill its empty space from where it lays, and has laid for so many years, it feels, and places it down in the box, and he gives it one final look, one final stroke along its surface with the very tip of his fingers, before he places another item along it, and then places the lid back on. He stands then, and he walks slowly, out the door, down the hall, down the stairs, out the building, and away toward his destination, but he pauses at one point and posts two letters, each heavier than normal letters ought to be, and he hears them clang as they hit the bottom of the box, but he walks away silently… uncaring…

There is almost no one out, he thinks, he does not know anymore… or simply does not care anymore… either one… or both…

The building looms over him, the gates are open, but only a few people are there.

He does not care…

He goes inside… finds his destination… puts down the box… pulls out a pen… writes down one word… and leaves…

Steps are getting heavier…

He keeps walking…

His hand holds fast…

His feet carry him forward and upward…

Ever upward…

…enough…

His hand finds the handle…

It gives under the weight of his hand…

The door clicks… then opens outward…

It is bright and he squints on instinct…

He walks out…

…enough is enough…

His hands grasp the metal…

He thinks… contemplates… wonders if… maybe… maybe…

…maybe…

…no…

He puts his foot to the heel of the other… tugs the shoe off…

He repeats for the other shoe…

He uses his foot to set the shoes close together…

…no more…

He steps closer…

…I can't do this anymore…

He lifts a leg and moves it over…

…too much…

He lifts the over and moves it over too… adjusts his grip…

…I can't be with Him…

He breathes… raises his head… looks up to the clouds…

It looks like rain…

He does not care…

…but I can make Him happy…

He breathes in… shuts his eyes as he holds it… and he lets go…

He stands there… opens his eyes and looks up again…

…if He doesn't have to see me… surely, He'll feel much better…

He breathes quietly… leaning lightly back… weight on the heels of his feet…

…if you love someone… you'll do whatever you must… to make them happy… their happiness comes first always…

He takes a deep breath and briefly wonders… what will happen after… but he is beyond caring…

He lightly pushes his fingers to the railing… pushes forward… balancing precariously on the edge…

…no matter the cost… whatever it takes…

He shuts his eyes… lets his weight fall forward…

But he does not get far; a firm grip grabs onto both his arms and pulls backward before arms come around his chest and hold him in place and it makes his eyes open in shock as he blindly grabs the railing with his legs curling around the bars, only by instinct alone because this is not what he wants… not what he needs… he…

"…don't… you… dare…"

"…!"

"…don't you… fucking… dare do this to me…"

"…Jo…?"

"Shut up! Just… shut up… fuck…!"

This is not right… this is not right… He should not be here… why is He…?

"You… stupid… little… how dare you?!"

He does not understand what is happening anymore, does not know how to respond to any of this, but as he stands, confused and lost, his hands move up, they tremble as they move up before he rests the fingers along His arm so lightly because he is terrified that this is all just a dream, a figment of his own shattered mind in an attempt for self-preservation, even if he has given up on that already, because he just cannot take it anymore…

…he cannot…

So he tries to remove the arms, tries to struggle against the grip, but the arms hold fast and pull him further away from the precipice before him and he wants to cry he wants to scream because he has had enough…!

He wants to die…!

"Let… go of me…!"

"Hell no! I am NOT letting you go to jump to your goddamn death, you selfish prick!

"Y-you… you're not the boss of me! You can't… you can't just-"

"I can and I will, goddamn it! Because I don't want to lose you!"

Those words penetrate through his dark thoughts, tear those very thoughts to shreds and make him stop struggling, but he does not move any other way, too afraid still that he is merely making this all up and he will wake up to find it is not real only to have him burst into tears and suffer all over again.

He is scared…

"I don't… I can't lose you… so please…"

The words make him aware of a touch to his shoulder, a warm touch, and His arms tighten around him, His fingers digging into his sides and arms which should hurt but it does not because he still cannot feel beyond the numbness that has enveloped his entire being and he wants to break loose, but his hands instead grasp to His arms tighter until his short nails dig through both sloth and skin as his breaths grow more and more desperate.

Why… why why why does He ALWAYS make it so much more harder for him to do anything?!

"…why…? Why can't you just… leave me alone…?! Fuck just… just g-go away!"

…is that his voice? He does not recognize it at all...

"No."

He wants to cry… he wants to scream… he wants to be able to do anything… but he cannot move because his body is instinctively reacting to His presence and wants more than anything to stay there, held so securely as if he is the most precious thing in the world, but he knows better than anyone that there is no way it can last long. It just cannot last… and it will no doubt end horribly he knows…

"…please… let me go…"

"No."

He is sure that, if he was not completely numbed, his entire being would be hurting, but he feels nothing… not even the tears that are now running down his cheeks, as his breathing becomes even more irregular as he tries to take in enough air to keep his heart beating, as much as he wished he could stop breathing and just end it all then and there…

"…please… just… let me go…"

"No."

"…why…?"

"I told you… didn't I? I can't lose you…"

He cannot say anything more… he wants to… but he cannot find his voice anymore…

"I'm so sorry, Neku… I messed up… I'm so… so sorry…"

When His grip loosens up, he is tempted to rip himself loose entirely and finish what he has started, but he has no time or chance to do so as he is grabbed by his arms and then turned around against the railing, His hand moving swiftly to the back of his neck with the other arm still around him, across his back, and then he is pulled in and…

…and…

Hot…

Heat spreads out through his whole being from his lips and his body trembles as he feels his heart pounding against his ribcage, going as far as to pulse in his throat as his hands reach up and clutch tightly to His arm and shoulder, nails digging into the skin that feels far too hot to him.

It's… it's hot… so hot…

A wet touch then, so familiar and yet so foreign all the same, and his body responds on instinct alone to the sense of familiarity, his hazy, unseeing eyes blinking once, twice, three times, before they open no longer as his lips part slowly, hesitantly, terrified that he has misinterpreted this in one way or another and that he has just made a horrible mistake, but as he slowly moves his head for a better angle and hesitantly reaches out as well, His hand moves from the base of his neck to the back of his head and He reaches for him in turn and he whimpers, clutching to Him tightly now as his arms move around Him, holding fast as his legs tremble helplessly beneath his weight.

It ends soon… too soon, and he cannot help but whine as if to call Him back even though he is certain it will not help him… but He moves closer once again and closes the distance once more and the tension once present in every fiber of his being dissipates as a soft, pleased sound emanates from him…

…dream… has to… has to be… this's a dream… a dream… no more… just a dream…

But… it feels far too real to… to be a dream…

God… if… if this is a dream… please… please don't ever let me wake up… please…

It lasts for so long, much longer than he would have thought it to do, and when it finally does end, it feels like his lips are swollen and his breath is heavy and labored and he has to blink swiftly as he tries desperately to get his sight back, but his vision is blurred along its edges as hot trails of tears flow out from the corners of his eyes. His hand moves over then from behind his head to rest on his cheek and then His thumb is reaching out and wiping away the tears and he feels his throat constrict as he tries so very hard not to whimper like a baby, but He shushes him like he has done so anyway, His other hand moving along his back, rubbing softly to spread that so desperately wanted heat through his body and his hands curl into the fabric of His jacket in response.

"Ssshh… it's okay, Neku… everything's going to be fine… I promise, everything's going to be fine… c'mon… Let's go…"

…you promise…?

The words trigger an old memory then, and the heat that had been prevalent just moments ago fades away and leaves him with a cold realization that the words just spoken to him are… empty…

"…I… I can't believe you…"

"…! Neku, listen to me; we can fix this, I swear! We-"

He sounds so sincere… but he just cannot do it…

…enough is enough…

Slowly, he brings up his hands and cups His face and he moves in one final time, closing the distance this one more time, for only a short time for he fears he will never be able to let go, and so he pulls away and breathes out then…

"…I love you… sayonara…"

And then he moves his hands to His shoulders, takes a swift breath, braces his feet and then he shoves and He cries out as He stumbles and he pushes away from the edge…

All he hears for a long time is the whistle of the wind as he feels like he is weightless for only a brief moment that he knows will end soon but he revels in the sensation for those few precious seconds as the knowledge comes to him that it will all be over soon…

A cry of his name comes then, and he slowly, or so it feels, turns his gaze and a terrified gaze of violet stares back at his…

And then the darkness envelops him and he knows no more…

…

… …

… … …

… … … …

Awareness comes slowly, but when it finally does hit him again he is confused…

It should have ended… everything should have ended… so why…?

…why is he still here…?

…I can't do anything right… can I…? I can't get over Him… I can't love someone in His stead… I can't let Him go… and now I can't even kill myself… I'm… I'm pathetic… worthless…

He cannot feel anything, but he is acutely aware of his own awareness, and he wants to curl up and just cry and wail and scream until his voice is raw, but not even his voice works and he does not know if he can even move a finger, much less curl up his whole body.

Why…? Why can't I do anything right?! Why can't you just let me… let me vanish? Why… why… why…?

Despair claws at his mind, and he wants to cry so badly, but he cannot feel the cries and sobs he knows would make his body tremble, as he sits (?) in the darkness, drowning in his own dark thoughts and his painful memories as he laments what could have been… he just wants everything to go the hell away and… and…

…he wants to start over…

"…ku… Neku… It's okay… don't cry… please don't cry…"

…?

That voice… he remembers that voice… who…?

"I'm here, Neku, and I'm not going anywhere… I promise I'll always be here…"

Why… why does it sound like the person is… crying…? …are they…?

"So please… please… open your eyes… open your eyes and look at me… please…"

…why? …why is this person… why…?

"…please… I… I… I need you here… with me… so please… please, Neku… please… wa-hah-wake up…"

…a sob breaks the words at the end and he knows now for sure… this person… this person is crying… for him…

…he tries to locate the voice, tries to figure out where the voice comes from, but words are failing the voice as only sobs now resound through wherever he is, but as he "wanders" the realization that he is beginning to get back the feeling of his limbs that has eluded him for so long comes to him, but he does not know if this is a good thing…

…something is holding his hand…

…no… someone…

…his eyelids are heavy… it takes forever to lift them… and he shuts them immediately after…

Bright…

…his fingers curl… they do not clench, but they curl…

…he hears a gasp… then his name… like a question…

…he slowly lifts his eyelids again… tries to see… the world is blurred… he cannot see…

…but he sees violet…

…he tries to speak… he cannot… but he is shushed… a soft touch to his forehead…

"Sshh… it's okay… relax… everything's going to be okay…"

…is it…? …really…?

…he tries to speak… mouths three words…trying to cling to consciousness… but nothing is heard…

…the touch on his hand grows firm… and he hears three words… three words filled with an emotion he does not remember or recognize… but it is important… keeps him there… keeps him aware…

"I missed you…"

And he slowly curls his fingers around the hand holding his own… squeezing back as best he could…

…maybe… maybe it will be okay…