Darkness...
.
Silence...
.
Pain...
.
The shadows in his mind manifested themselves into nightmares, visions, long-buried memories playing themselves, again and again. They clung to him as oil does a seabird, dragging him down... down...
Until he couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't hope...
.
Haru couldn't sleep.
He lay awake in his small room. Then he paced in frustration. Finally his anger boiled over and he threw some DVDs and games across the room, where they bounced pathetically against the wall. He ripped a pillowcase into shreds and rested his head against the wall, breathing deeply until his rage had subsided. It was good, he often thought, that he had his own bedroom.
Akito had indeed delivered in finding him the most punishing client he could. The elder of the two men was an old client of Haru's, a company director or something of that nature. The younger was a new assistant of his who was nervous, and eager to impress his new boss. Haru knew immediately that he would be the real trouble. The man had greasy hair to match his greasy smile, and wrung his hands anxiously as they drank in the lounge.
When they went to one of the bedrooms however, and Akito had made clear that they held all the power and Haru was at their mercy, the man's eyes took on a strange and frightening gleam.
Given so much power over another human he became truly cruel. His boss watched proudly.
Haru rubbed at his temples. He only hoped he had hurt the man substantially in return. Maybe his girlfriend or fiancé or wife would notice his bruises, the wincing, the rope burn. Maybe there would be some justice…
But in reality Haru knew that would never happen. Then man would slip by with no judgement. He would rise up in the company, probably marry a beautiful woman, have two children… and come to the Estate whenever he felt like exercising his power. Haru wondered if he had a new regular… the thought made him sick.
He hoped Hiro was alright. The boy had been severely shaken by his sudden beating; his injuries weren't so much of a concern as his mental well-being. Haru knew Kagura and Kisa had been tending to him that evening.
He sighed, the sigh of an old man. That seemed to happen to a lot of them at the Estate; they were old before they were young, because they had never had a chance to be young.
Mostly though, Haru worried about Yuki. He had had a crap night, sure, but he was certain Yuki was worse.
To be back in solitary…
His friend had never explicitly spoken of his time there, but Haru understood it had been a pure and unadulterated Hell for him. He had changed after that. When he was young he was quiet, nervous, distant… but after solitary he was cold, ruthless. He was charming and alluring, confident and sensual with the clients. And he drank too much. And he popped those pills which made him fly and whoop with glee… then left him grovelling on the ground.
Haru didn't know how much of his friend would be left after a second stint in solitary.
Yuki had been terrified when Akito mentioned it, determined not to go.
And the way he had turned to Haru when they reached the door, tears streaming down his face- a lump rose in Haru's throat at the memory.
He had walked his friend to his Hell… to protect Hiro…
And Yuki had begged so desperately for him to warn Tohru. That would be to involve himself in the situation…
He could feel still the raw evidence of that evening's abuse on his body… could feel it still in the blazing fresh memories which hurled themselves round his mind… If he involved himself, he knew it could mean a longer contract at the Estate… it could mean punishment… it could mean psychos for clients every night…
Haru took a deep breath to control his increasing pulse and rapid breathing.
The rule was not to get involved, not to feel, not to get attached…
But he knew he would.
The last few months had changed him, without his even realising.
And he knew he would get involved, for Yuki. For Tohru.
.
Ayame was at the Estate two nights later. He was a tall and beautiful man, often stunningly dressed, with a dazzling smile. In his cheerful demeanor and warmth, he reminded Haru of Momiji. In his moments of stillness, of pensive silence when a shadow would cross his face, he reminded Haru of Yuki.
Momiji was always bright, always gentle and warm, as though the coldness and darkness of their world had not yet infected him. Haru sometimes wondered if it would affect him… or when it would affect him… Would Momiji be like Ayame then? Bright on the surface but sad when he thought no-one was looking?
Haru approached Ayame at the bar of the main lounge in the late hours of the afternoon before the clients had begun to arrive. Ayame was nursing a vodka tenderly, gazing blankly at the wall. The brothers shared their preference in drink, not that either of them knew this.
"How's Yuki?" Ayame asked immediately.
Smalltalk was not something exchanged between the workers at the Estate. They spent enough time dealing in pleasantries with clients that with each other they were honest and blunt; they didn't have the time or energy to be polite. Therefore Haru didn't mind that Ayame only enquired after his brother. He didn't care to know how Haru was doing, and the feeling was mutual.
He sighed, and told Ayame everything that had happened.
Ayame was on his third vodka by the time he had finished. Haru noted that the brothers has a similar way of fiddling with their empty glass, rolling it between slender fingers. He chose not to drink. Having seen the havoc it had wrecked on Yuki he was keen to avoid it as much as possible.
Ayame let out a long breath. He looked angry, but his expression was predominately sad.
"But what can we do?" he asked, in a defeated tone. Haru didn't reply, but Ayame hadn't really been expecting an answer.
He ordered another vodka and finished it in one bracing gulp.
"Ahh… my little brother, always so sensitive… falling for a client- no not even a client- an outsider." He rolled the glass distractedly between his fingers. "In any other scenario I'd be congratulating him. My Yuki's first love, I suppose. But…" He sighed wearily.
Haru sensed the vodka was loosening his tongue. Now might be the best moment to appeal to him. He glanced around furtively, checking no staff were near. Then he told him of Yuki's last desperate wish; that he warn Tohru of what had occurred, and impress upon her the importance of never returning to the Estate.
Ayame looked deeply troubled. He stopped rolling the glass, set it down, and stared at it for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Of course I'll tell her. She can't come back here now that Akito knows. And if Yuki wants this, of course I will." He paused, nervously gnawing on a fingernail, "But… this must really be bad for Yuki to ask for my help. He must really like her?"
Haru nodded.
"Yuki asked for my help once, when we were young, and I turned my back on him. That was more than ten years ago, and he hasn't asked me for anything since. I'll do this for him, of course, he's my brother. But…" Haru was shocked to see a single tear wind its way past Ayame's nose. "I wish I could do more. I wish I could turn back the clock and help him that day. I'd go through any pain to protect the Yuki back then from… from this- this world."
Haru nodded again, thoughtfully. Even if Yuki couldn't see it, Ayame cared about him. But it was too late now.
He decided he would have a drink after all and the two sat in a deep silence of mourning, their thoughts on Yuki.
.
Ayame did exactly as he had promised. He returned to his flat the next morning, showered, dressed smartly, and walked anxiously to Inshes Vets.
He had never been there before and, having very little experience of animals, could not help the high-pitched squeal which escaped when a tiny dog yapped at him. He placed a hand over his chest to calm his racing heart as he made his way to the receptionist's desk.
Upon asking if Tohru was working today he was informed by the young receptionist that she was, and that she was due to take her lunch break in an hour. He thanked her and went outside to wait. He was far more comfortable outside, away from the people and the animals and the confinement of the heavily-postered walls.
The receptionist had smiled warmly at him and held his gaze but he barely noticed her, turning his back without a thought. After working at the Estate for twelve years Ayame had stopped seeing people. When he looked at them he saw merely their twisted intentions, imagined what kind of clients they would be. It made running his lingerie shop easy as he understood what people wanted so could design popular stock and effortlessly assist his customers.
He shivered slightly in the cold breeze, wondering what sort of girl could make his Yuki disobey Akito so strongly. When he finally re-entered the vets and she appeared, he thought he understood.
The girl was pretty, that much he could objectively say. But there was more than that. She walked hand-in-hand with a small boy while his mother followed carrying a dog. When they reached the receptionist's counter she handed the boy a lollipop with a gentle smile and he giggled in delight. It was like her beauty and warmth spilled forth, touching those around her.
Ayame wondered wildly if Tohru had brought this warmth to Yuki's life. For a moment he was touched, thinking of his brother smiling and laughing… something he could hardly remember ever seeing. He regretted that he had not been able to provide the warmth his brother sought.
He also regretted that he would have to kill that beautiful pure smile by delivering the news of Yuki to Tohru. He sighed. He was used to doing things he regretted by now.
.
The smile did die. And so did something much more powerful. Hope.
Tohru greeted Ayame kindly, then with more caution when she learned he was Yuki's brother. They sat alone in the small staff room, and Ayame told her what had happened. He tried to omit any distressing details but felt that it made little difference.
Her smile had disappeared. Her eyes had filled with tears. Her hand had risen to cover her mouth. Her sandwiches lay forgotten.
Tohru couldn't believe what she was hearing.
She had seen Yuki just a few days ago… she was going to go tomorrow, Sunday, again. He had been happy, they had been happy. He had told her he loved her… he had told her he loved her… And now- he was in trouble, suffering horribly… because of her.
She couldn't stop the tears which spilled forth, angry and hot. He had tried to stop her coming, and she hadn't listened. And now…
She had been a fool. A naïve, love-struck fool. And she had brought him great pain.
"You must never come back to the Estate. That was the last thing he said. He was desperate. That's all he wants. Will you promise him?"
She could see how it pained the man before her to say these words. Despite his radiant appearance his eyes were old, and mournful. Like Yuki's she thought, and a lump rose in her throat.
She nodded. "I promise." How could she not? She had brought this Hell down on Yuki. This was the only thing she could do for him now.
Ayame nodded. He seemed simultaneously pleased and disappointed, which Tohru couldn't understand.
"Here, my business card." He pulled a smart rose-coloured card from his pocket with a flourish. "Come in whenever you want, for a chat, free clothes… whatever. I work at the Estate two or three days a week but my assistant or me will always be there, if you need anything."
She took the card feeling strangely grateful and touched.
Ayame left, feeling that he had done everything he could, but that everything he could do would never be enough.
Tohru was distracted for the rest of her shift, distant and vague. She was eventually dismissed by the frustrated Head Nurse. She went immediately to the kennels at the back of the building and sank to the ground by one of the larger cages.
"Oh Buster" she cooed at the dog. He wagged his tail furiously, happy to see her. "How're you feeling buddy?" There had been vast complications following Buster's surgery and now he was back for further remedial treatment. Back in the cage he hated so much.
"You met Yuki, Buster… he was lovely wasn't he?" Buster tried to lick her arm through the bars. "He was sweet, and kind… and sad, and kind of damaged. I thought I was helping him Buster, I really did. But I- I made it worse. I made everything worse." Another dog barked loudly from a cage further down the row, as though in agreement.
"I wanted to… I wanted to… I don't know what I wanted," she mumbled sadly. "I just… I wanted to help him, to teach him…" she swallowed thickly. "I wanted to hold his hand, to tell him every day that it wasn't his fault… that he is special… that he is loved…"
She absentmindedly stroked Buster's head and he gazed adoringly up at her. You shouldn't, she thought. You should be angry, disgusted. But he continued to stare, besotted, at her.
She was stupid; ignorant and arrogant in the belief that her visits could somehow help Yuki. She didn't understand or belong in that world. She had promised she would never visit the Estate again. That was what Yuki wanted. And surely if she returned it would only cause more pain and trouble for him?
But… did he belong to that world? He shouldn't… and he didn't want to. She thought of his rare laugh, so pure and genuine when it unexpectedly burst forth from his serious form.
The person she knew, the person she loved… he was warm and gentle. How could he survive in the darkness and the cold of that world? Of solitary?
"What should I do Buster?" she asked desperately. He gazed back happily, silently. He didn't have an answer for her.
What should she do? What could she do?
.
Yuki lay awake, trembling.
In retrospect he would feel guilty that his thoughts of that first week were not concern for Tohru or Hiro, but at the time he was wholly occupied.
After two days in the room the chills began, chasing themselves up and down his spine, along his arms and legs. His head pounded furiously. His heart beat frantically. Soon he was covered in a cold, clammy sweat which persisted for days. He began to shake uncontrollably, hands trembling and limbs jerking spasmodically. He was cold and hot at the same time. And he sobbed desperately.
He knew, he knew more than he knew anything in the world, that the hot kiss of vodka or whiskey would send the fire racing through his veins. And he wanted them more than anything. Their kiss would warm him, save him from this agonising cold. That's what his body, his head, screamed at him for days.
And by the fifth day, he was screaming too.
There was a small metal bed and basic toilet in the room, but he hardly made it to either of these in the first week, leaving him filthy, exhausted and sore. He wouldn't, couldn't eat the food which was pushed once a day through the hatch in the door.
He saw grotesque shapes in the darkness, felt eyes watching his back whichever way he turned. He retched violently after drinking water.
Akito looked in on him on the fifth day, gazing down unmoved. Yuki was curled on the cold floor, shaking violently, whispering relentlessly as he clutched with a fierce desperation to his skull. Akito left with a small smile, feeling vindicated.
After ten days hr peaked. Yuki awoke from a fitful sleep, feeling vulnerable and shaken, but no longer freezing, no longer shaking. He felt newly born, and very small and anxious. He felt the eyes on his back once more and turned, but it was only darkness. Layers and layers of darkness, forcing themselves on him, flooding his vision and his mind until he choked on it.
He attempted to eat the meal which was provided that day, and though he threw it up, the next day he managed to keep it down. The daily meals were his only means of measuring the passage of time. There were no windows or sources of natural light in the room, so he was lost, alone in the dark.
After two weeks his food was pushed through the hatch with a whisper.
"Tohru knows, she won't come back."
Yuki didn't know who it was but he was immensely grateful. He clung to these words like a lifeline. Tohru was save. He hadn't ruined her. She would be alright. It was the only thing he wanted to hear. Or so he thought.
On the third week the voices in his mind became louder and crueller. In the darkness and the silence they shouted at him. Yuki's complete lack of external stimuli gave them power and they grew, vicious and rampant. That was the week Yuki began begging.
He stood by the door, shouting until his throat was hoarse and he became exhausted. Then he sat on the floor resting against the door, calling, pleading, whispering… until he had no energy left.
"Please! Speak to me! Just say anything!" He couldn't be alone like this, the dark thoughts had voices in his mind now, and they would kill him.
"Akito! Please speak to me!" he yelled desperately. "Anyone! Just… show me the sky, for a moment, and I'll come back in… please." He sobbed, but no-one answered.
The fourth week, he was listening to the voices. The shadows formed into people from his life before his eyes and he spoke to them, holding whole conversations with the darkness of his mind.
"Please don't," he would plead, but the darkness seemed to laugh, mocking him.
The fifth week, Yuki barely had the energy or willpower to raise himself from the bed. He lay trapped, not merely by the four walls of the room, but by the torments of his mind. All of the memories he had locked away, which were shrouded in a dark layer, played before his eyes.
His mother sobbing… leaving him at the Estate… Akito's penetrating smile even as a boy… Ayame turning away… beatings… pain… this room… his pasta necklace in the blender… his football cards burning to ashes… the first time Akito took him into his bed… his mother's pearl earrings… this room… his first client… those three horrible men… his shell crushed to dust… Hiro sobbing and bloody on the floor… and this room again…
Over and over. Over and over. He squeezed his eyes shut, clamped his hands over his ears, foolishly, as though this could somehow help.
Over and over. With such sharp clarity they stung and left him gasping at their rawness. Everything he wanted to forget was now all he had. It gnawed at him from the inside, tainting everything, and making his thoughts ugly and black.
Food didn't seem important. Sleep didn't seem important, even if had been possible. He no longer noticed or cared how he smelt or felt having not showered in over a month.
He lay in the darkness and it felt like it was holding him, cushioning him.
Over and over his memories danced through his mind. And he no longer asked to see the sky.
Because he knew he belonged here.
.
Akito reclined languidly at his desk. It was a beautiful day, the sky a clear blue, the wind gentle and forgiving, and the birds mellow and relaxed in their singing.
And his Yuki hadn't asked to see the sky in thirteen days.
It was, Akito thought, satisfying and righteous, yet troubling and saddening to see Yuki in such a state. His fury had abated in the past few weeks, and although he was convinced Yuki deserved, and would benefit from his punishment, he was almost ready to forgive him.
The bed was too big without Yuki there. That was the truth of the matter. The clients were unimpressed, and he didn't have his deal-closer anymore… but honestly the real problem was Akito's bed was too big, and too lonely.
He wanted Yuki to become his partner. To be loyal only to him. He wanted a relationship. A mutual love and understanding. He wanted to give Yuki half the Estate, and half the company, and all of his love. But Yuki rejected it.
Akito sighed. He had made Yuki what he was. Had he done too good a job? Made the boy such a good liar that he could easily and coldly lie to even him? How could he betray him in such a way?
He had expected the girl to return weeks ago, but she hadn't shown up. He had been confused, and very angry, but over the weeks he had decided she had given up on Yuki. This at least offered Akito some small sense of satisfaction. Everyone gave up on Yuki in the end. He was temporary. Meant to be loved for a short time then discarded.
Perhaps Yuki would one day see that Akito was the only one who would not do this.
Akito didn't see, as he never saw, the bonds between his workers. He saw them as individual pieces, both the labour and produce of his empire. He could never have imagined the closeness they felt, even if they didn't say it. Living together, and experiencing this hellish life together, there was a shared sense of understanding between them. But Akito did not see or understand this. Yuki was locked away so he imagined him alone and isolated. In Akito's mind there was no conceivable way for Yuki to have warned Tohru.
He could not have imagined Haru and Ayame passing his message along. He could not have envisioned Ritsu, who worked one day a week for the Estate's kitchen, whispering this back to Yuki. Akito could not have predicted Kagura and Kisa caring tenderly for Hiro, nor Hatori treating his injuries when he visited the Estate. He could not have conceived Momiji voluntarily taking over Hiro's afternoon waiting work for a week, despite it leaving him exhausted, nor Kyo sweet-talking a favourite client into bringing a new playstation game on their next visit, which he left anonymously on Hiro's bed.
Yes these things, these small acts which meant so much, happened. Akito could not see or understand... but bonds formed between them, and this was how they survived.
Akito had considered searching for the girl, but the manpower and resources needed to search for some stupid, insignificant child in a city this size made him reconsider. She was out of Yuki's life now anyway. Yuki had been suitably punished. And they would never see each other again.
There was a knock at the door. Akito straightened up. "Yes?"" he called tersely. A member of staff entered, looking nervous.
"There's someone here to see you master." Akito twirled a pen between his fingers, giving the woman as little of his attention as he could.
"Well who is it then?" he demanded.
"It's Tohru Honda, sir."
The pen fell from Akito's hand and hit the table loudly.
"Send her in."
.
They sat opposite each other, measuring the other up.
Akito sipped a whiskey slowly. He had ordered blackcurrant juice for her, to emphasise both his power and the age difference. She smiled when she saw it and he suspected she understood what he was doing. This made him angry.
Seeing her sitting so brazenly in front of him. In his office. At his Estate… It reignited his fury. She was nervous, that much was clear, though she worked hard to hide it.
"My sweet little Tohru. To what on this wretched earth do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She didn't answer, but fidgeted anxiously with her jacket. Akito exhaled angrily. Being kept waiting and having to repeat himself were things he couldn't stand, both in business and his personal life. It was a trait he found particularly annoying in Yuki.
"My dear," he continued, his voice sweet as sugar, "I am a very powerful man, and I want very, very much to destroy you. So please, tell me why you have come to me?"
She seemed a little startled, and this satisfied him. Her next words however, did not.
She straightened herself slightly, and fixed her plain, ugly clothes. She swallowed twice, banishing her nerves away.
Then she looked straight at him, holding his gaze boldly.
"I want to buy Yuki's freedom."
Sorry if this chapter seemed a bit all over the place, and also that it was quite long, I wasn't sure where to cut it. (Even though one of my lovely and loyal reviewers ImpishTopHat has told me not to apologise for long chapters... sorry :P)
Thank you to the guest reviewer, I enjoyed your response :)