Meetings. Headaches. Phonecalls. Chest pains. Lunches. Coughing. Dinners. Blood.
And always... always Akito.
The smiles. Touches. Tender gestures. An outsider witnessing only this would call it love. Yuki could not see this.
He saw the slimy underside to the bright smile Akito displayed to business partners. He saw it for everything it was.
And... he was growing used to it. Strangely, horribly used to it.
Or perhaps he was merely too tired.
Weeks passed... months. And Yuki felt pieces of himself breaking off to be lost forever, like pieces of a jigsaw. Yet these missing pieces, these voids in his soul... they didn't bother him.
The gaping space filled with jagged pieces which had festered inside him since he had left Tohru was dormant now. Well, almost. Like an old wound it would occasionally flare up. But generally it was peaceful. Kyo's visit had helped. It had caused massive, twisting pain and guilt which had then subsided some, satisfied that she was alright... or getting there. That, and time had crept in, wrapping its tendrils around the sharp pieces and softening their stings. So now it was bearable.
The pain was weakening and he was losing pieces of himself like a jigsaw... and he didn't care. It meant almost nothing to him. He was immersed so thoroughly in his act, and so complete and exhausting it was, that he barely noticed the gradual loss of all that he had once been trickling away like sand in the cold months he spent in Akito's embrace.
Seeing Haru, Momiji, Ayame, any of the others. It meant so very little to him now. And he was very slowly, and without realising it, losing sight of his purpose.
He was tired. And sore.
He didn't try to convince himself it was only an act now, that he wasn't the monster, because it seemed such a superficial detail. And he didn't have the energy to consider it, nor to face the truth. So he didn't.
.
The day came without any warming when another step of his plan was achieved. Akito presented him with a tiny percentage of the Sohma Company. And he was on his way to power, money, freedom... but now... it didn't mean what he had once thought it would. There had been a goal once, and some ambition and drive. But that was being slowly worn away. And he didn't think of the others when he accepted his percentage. They didn't seem important.
That was also the day he couldn't breathe, and coughed and coughed until he collapsed. Then he cleaned up the various fluids, changed his shirt, and smoked a cigarette, ignoring it.
.
When Yuki had ignored his morals and turned his back on Ayame, many months ago when there was the fight in the lounge, he had been sick with guilt. It had raked its claws along his insides, infecting him. He had known it was wrong. Had known he shouldn't and that he would be dammed. But he forced himself to continue, to be cold, ruthless, cruel... for the act. For everything that he was working towards. To convince Akito he loved him. For the others.
But as time wore on and Yuki spent every second with Akito, forced to act constantly, to pretend he loved the man who had destroyed him from the inside and built him back up again as the perfect doll, the perfect whore... he grew so tired. So absolutely drained. And his mind grew strange, submerged in a fog he didn't realise was there.
It got to the point that when he next forsook himself... he barely noticed he had.
.
This came on a day like any other. Yuki could not differentiate it from any other. All was monotonous, grey, wearisome.
Meetings. Headaches. Phonecalls. Chest pains. Lunches. Coughing. Dinners. Blood.
On this day something had gone wrong. The meeting had been a failure, a deal hadn't been made. Someone had blundered.
And Akito wasn't happy.
His foul mood meant little to Yuki now except that he might be snapped at, slapped a few times. And this was nothing.
But Akito loved him so he was safe, in the general sense of the word. No lasting damage would be done. He didn't have to fear Akito's anger as he once would have.
But the others still had to.
It was unfortunate that it was Momiji he chanced upon first.
Akito was ranting about the number of things he had to do, almost hissing in his irritation, and Yuki was nodding diligently, hardly hearing the words. They turned a corner to walk to the main lounge and Momiji rounded the same corner, almost colliding with Akito. He sprang back immediately, apologising politely. He smiled still, faintly and sweetly, a gentle smile which exuded kindness and innocence. Perhaps it was the smile more than the collision which angered Akito.
"Momiji!" he spat brusquely. Yuki looked up, vaguely interested in the scene.
"Watch where you're going."
Momiji nodded and apologised again. He walked on, smiling slightly with something akin to relief.
Akito watched him for a moment then smiled. "Wait" he said. He spoke quietly but his voice seemed to carry. Momiji stopped instantly and both Yuki and him started at Akito anxiously.
Akito turned leisurely to Yuki, smiling sweetly.
"Yuki, a thought has just occurred to me. A possibly wonderful and very fortunate thought. But as my partner I would like your opinion on it." Yuki nodded once, curtly.
"You see all of my precious live-in gutter rats work six nights a week, as you know. Now the girls need the time off because they are weaker. And Haru's clients are a little too... shall we say demanding to allow him to work every night. Ritsu is a pathetic weak thing who can hardly handle the meagre work he recieves. But- but..." And here he smiled widely, "I can see no reason why our dear Momiji should not work seven nights a week. What do you think dear? Do you think he could work every night?"
Yuki's answer was immediate, and without hesitation.
"Of course. I worked seven nights a week. There's no reason why he wouldn't be capable of it also."
Akito smiled victoriously. "Excellent. Well you heard Master Yuki, Momiji. Seven wonderful nights a week henceforth."
Yuki didn't notice Momiji's expression but if he had he would have seen betrayal, sadness and pain. Something rarely shown by Momiji.
It didn't feel like he was doing anything wrong. He was acting. It wasn't real. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He had thought with a cold business mind. Thought as Akito's lover. And answered accordingly. He turned his back on Momiji and walked away.
And he didn't feel a thing.
.
Haru charged at him the next day, shouting, but his angry, sharp words couldn't penetrate the thick fog forming in Yuki's mind. He was dragged away by several staff members, struggling viciously. When he spat however, and the glob of spit landed a foot away from him Yuki felt something then. Something like anger or shame or sadness but he couldn't place it and he didn't want to. So he turned away and went to find Akito.
.
Yuki sat outside, shivering slightly in the cold air. He smoked absentmindedly, his hand rising and falling automatically. It burned his throat slightly but he didn't care. There were many memories demanding his attention but he would not give it to them. With all his willpower he kept them out, behind an invisible wall. Don't let them come. Don't let them in. He couldn't face them, he was too weak and too tired. He stubbed out the cigarette on the grass thoughtlessly, leaving a small burn. He reached for another, turning the packet over in his cold hands. Struck be a strong sense of familiarity, he suddenly remembered his mother smoking. She had smoked a lot and he could now recall the smell, the smoke, the way she held the cigarette as she hunched on the step at the door. These memories he hadn't known he had came unwanted and he recoiled subconsciously. Seems I'm a bit like her after all, he thought. He snorted derisively and began to laugh bitterly. But at some point the laugh decomposed into wheezing which caused him to double over on the damp grass, desperately trying to breathe.
.
Winter melted slowly into a brisk spring. A cruel spring which made it harder to ignore, to forget, to pretend, as the comforting blanket of winter had done. Flowers appeared valiantly. Momiji worked seven days a week. Birds tossed their songs to each other joyously. The part-time workers were gradually nearing the end of their contracts. In the outside world children were back at school, adults hard at work, their New Year's resolutions long forgotten. In the bubble of the Estate all was how it always was.
Yuki was dying and time greedily grabbed and snatched at his remaining years. He was also sinking into a depression he didn't understand, and couldn't fight. The spring mocked him, with its vivid colour and boastful life. Fertility surrounded him, flaunting itself before his tired eyes.
Akito insisted they walk together in the evenings, and despite him being thoroughly unromantic, this seemed to appeal to a hidden side of him. Certainly he relaxed with Yuki, who observed the way Akito's eyes softened when they lay together. It was peculiar; the man seemed truly to feel love for him.
It was in the spring that Akito made Yuki his official partner in the Sohma Company. And Yuki supposed he should be pleased. This was what he had wanted. He needed the power, the position. He needed that... to free them. But now, in that beautiful spring, with its brave and admirable flowers and its cheerful birds and timid animals and light rain Yuki was colder then ever, and what he saw was darker than ever. His aim had become obscured and everything he had been working for seemed so unattainable now, so impossible.
There was a pain in his chest and he didn't know if it was physical or not. But it wore him down.
Meetings. Headaches. Phonecalls. Chest pains. Lunches. Coughing. Dinners. Blood. And wheezing. And sleepless nights. And vomiting. And exhaustion. And lethargy. And listlessness. And a great weariness which threatened to crush him.
It was becoming almost impossible to pretend anymore. How to smile at Akito when the memories of beatings lapped at the crumbling wall he had erected to protect himself? How to be suave in meetings which his lungs filled with liquid and he felt he couldn't breathe? How to ignore the others when he kept thinking of that glob of spit and wondering what it meant to him? How to make love to a man he detested?
Tired...
Tired...
So tired...
It was so difficult. Too difficult.
He was one person.
One twenty-year old who wanted it to end but didn't want to die.
One person who wanted to be happy but desired to be punished.
One person who was suppressing a lifetime of abuse but in a relationship with the abuser.
One person who thought he could act anything until he had to act happy.
One person who wanted to achieve his aim, but was oh so very tired.
.
The act came to a resounding end one April afternoon. The play was not yet finished, not due to conclude, yet the curtain came crashing down regardless.
Akito and Yuki were in the lounge, conversing casually with several clients. Akito was in a strange mood Yuki could see, restless. One of the men had made a comment at his expense and he now sulked, drinking gin through a thin straw.
Hiro was serving today and there were several other clients playing pool. It was quiet, relaxed, but Yuki didn't like Akito's mood.
Hiro brought another gin for Akito, whiskeys for the men and a water for Yuki, and one of the men nudged another who wolf-whistled loudly.
"Oh yeah he's nice," the one who had laughed at Akito earlier muttered, "but too young."
Akito looked up, glancing around and pouting petulantly. "Who says he's too young?" he inquired softly.
The man stared for a second before mumbling, "Well he is, isn't he?"
Akito sat back, stirring his drink thoughtfully.
"Well technically by law he is. But my love here," and he laid a slender hand on Yuki's own, who, reacting automatically to this cue as a professional pretender, smiled tenderly back, "started young. And look at him now. He's perfect."
The man glanced shiftily at his fellows. Akito smiled. "Hiro!" he called, and the boy hurried over. He stopped several feet away, holding the black circular bar tray smartly behind his back.
"Yes I do see what you mean. He would be good..." Akito mused. "He's got the perfect boyish, mischievous face. Perfect for sucking cock."
One of the men spluttered his drink and the other two merely stared. Hiro had visibly paled and looked terrified, yet defiant.
"What do you think Yuki dear?" Akito inquired politely, turning to him. Yuki felt the pressure to answer and the conflict within him like a great drum beat. He forced a nonchalant expression.
"Indeed," was all he managed to murmur in assent. But it was enough. Akito laughed loudly at the expression on Hiro's face and dismissed him. Yuki knew Akito wouldn't do anything to the boy, but he had still been humiliated and scared. And Yuki knew how that felt. The men looked shocked and Akito smiled triumphantly. He had won.
And this time Yuki once again felt it. Clawing at his insides, ripping and tearing mercilessly. Guilt. It churned his stomach and made him nauseous. What had he done? What was he doing?
.
The guilt was still raking at his insides, his heart, his soul... whatever was left. Work was finished for the evening and Akito and Yuki were strolling through the gardens. They were hand in hand, though it was Akito doing the holding; Yuki seemed to lack the energy. His mind was occupied and his thoughts distracted, so he hardly heard what Akito said.
All he knew was that there was a darkness gathering within him. And that the wall in his mind wouldn't hold for long before he would feel something. Before he would remember.
This occurred when Akito went to the bathroom. Yuki sank down on the bed wearily, laying back and resting his eyes for a moment... and suddenly he was overwhelmed with memories and pain. Everything he had done... everything that had been done to him. He felt it. It was so raw. So tangible in that moment. Misery. Pain Guilt. Anger. Loneliness. Fear. They consumed him.
His guilt about Hiro and eroded the wall in his mind and everything was so tender, so painful now.
And he wanted to feel nothing. He would rather feel nothing than know this agony of memories.
Crack
Crack
He could almost feel himself breaking apart.
Akito returned a minute later and Yuki was so incredibly exposed and vulnerable. So sensitive and weak that everything was felt tenfold.
And Akito smiled at him. And lay next to him. And stroked his cheek.
And it was too much.
Crack
His perfect act
He couldn't maintain it
But he had to
If he didn't
He would have failed
But it was so
difficult
Crack
Akito was moving closer. And he was tender and sweet.
And it made Yuki sick to see. This man, this monster. And he couldn't. He couldn't pretend anymore.
He had failed, because he was weak.
Akito moved to kiss him and Yuki knew vaguely in some distant part of his mind that he had failed, his plan was over and the act was done. And that he was useless and pathetic and weak. But mainly in his mind he knew only guilt and pain.
And it wrenched him apart.
CRACK
The kiss ended and Yuki lay panting, exhausted, drained, trembling under the weight of his suppressed memories. Akito was smiling slightly.
"I love you Yuki," he murmured lightly. And he lightly kissed the tip of Yuki's nose. Don't touch me. Don't touch me. I saw what you just did to Hiro. I remember what you did to me. When I was a child. You are vile.
But he couldn't move, couldn't speak. Akito was waiting, drawn back slightly, expecting Yuki to reply the same.
Yuki came apart with a sigh, and released everything he had been holding with a tremble. The walls came crumbling down into dust all around, exposing his tattered soul. It was over.
"I don't love you" he replied.
And it was so freeing. For the first time in ages he felt he could breathe properly. He had failed in completing the play, but at least it was over.
Akito was staring. "What?"
"I don't love you" Yuki repeated, this time with a small smile. This was his triumph. He would die in this festering cage but still, this triumph was as sweet as any freedom.
"What do you mean Yuki? What are you saying?" Akito had pulled back more, and was no longer smiling.
"I mean I do not love you. And I have never loved you. And I will never love you."
The range of emotions to cross Akito's face was mesmorising. Anger, pain, shock, betrayal, confusion, all at once. "You don't love me? You lied...?" His voice was calm, low and dangerous yet soft and fragile too.
"How could I?" Yuki replied, "Do you even know what love is?" He waited, wondering what would come next but not really caring. He felt amazingly light all of a sudden. It almost made him giddy.
What came next was a sharp slap. It stung and made Yuki's head snap to the side, but the pain was so satisfying. It meant he was winning.
"You bastard!" Akito hissed. "You filthy treacherous rat!"
Yuki smiled. "So it seems," he replied, and giggled lightly at the sheer insanity of the situation.
Akito slapped him again. Yuki didn't care, nor did he move from the position he landed in. It just didn't matter. None of it mattered. He lay sprawled on the bed with a stinging cheek, a tattered soul and guilt-riddled conscience. But he felt he could breathe again.
"It was all just a game," he continued, rather enjoying the power he held, despite his undignified position, "a fun old game of cat and mouse."
Akito looked lived. Possibly angrier than Yuki had ever seen him. But there was something else. Something which was preventing his anger from exploding. He was hurt. He was in pain. And Yuki wondered fleetingly if Akito had ever known pain before.
"And that's not all, dear. I returned to the Estate only because I'm dying."
Akito's head snapped up at that and he stared at Yuki before roughly pulling him into a sitting position.
"I'll be dead in three years- well more like two now. So death, pain, any of those fun old threats mean nothing to me."
Akito said nothing but he looked equally pained and furious. Yuki decided to finish. A great weariness had settled over him. He thought he might finally be able to sleep soundly.
"Thing is, I should be the weak one, what with my failing body. But I'm not. You're the weak one, because surprisingly you gave me more of you than I gave of me. So I have the power here."
Akito punched him forcefully to the side of the head. It made him reel from the pain and he tasted blood when he bit his tongue, but it was satisfying.
"You're a monster," Yuki continued, and Akito slapped him for a third time. This time Yuki didn't fall but stayed perfectly still, braced against the shock. He clenched his jaw as the fist struck his face. He stared intently at Akito as he continued.
"But I'm pretty wretched myself. I deserve you. And I won't taint anyone else. So... you can have my dying body."
They stared at each other.
"I want you to know everyday that I detest you. And I'm sure you detest me too. But you also love me. And I want you to remember everyday that the person you love will be dead in two years. That you'll watch me fall apart into messy, weak pieces. And know, always, that I truly hate you."
Akito made no move to strike Yuki this time. The stared at each other across the bed. Both, Yuki realised, were trembling. He felt such a great liberty, and now the darkness was free to swoop into all the crevices of his mind and soul. They filled them up, fitting snugly in. He was done. He was giving up.
He was too tired.
And it had been too much.
He had failed. And now he would be Akito's plaything.
It would be painful, most likely. But it would also be painful for Akito. And Yuki wouldn't hurt anyone else. And that was the most important thing.
He now only wanted to die miserably in the peaceful darkness, and cause Akito great pain.
And with this resignation to his new life and the darkness which consumed his mind... Yuki found a strange peace.
They continued to stare at each other, and neither said a word.
.
Firstly this whole idea of Yuki letting Akito have his dying body was entirely from The High Queen of Angst. So thank you! And to anyone who hasn't already I thoroughly recommend her writing. If you like crying yourself to sleep, The High Queen of Angst is for you!
Also thank you to the people who reviewed my last chapter :) And to ImpishTopHat for all your encouragement! :)
We're almost there now, I'm thinking 1 - 2 more chapters. Though again, if you like this as an ending feel free to stop reading here.
Anyway, thank you everyone for reading!