Tokyo wind whispered through his hair as he ran, feet hitting the pavement at a bone jarring pace and blooming white stars in his vision, matching his heart as he gave it everything. Nothing was right.
"Takaba san! Where are you going?" he rushed passed one of Asami's men, streaking his vision with the black and white suit that was bringing him lunch.
"Asami!"
In the back of his mind that knew the way Asami's men functioned, knew the scale on which they did things and knew how to read Akihito himself like an open book, he should have also known that all those newspapers on his table were there for a reason.
Of course they were, they were there to paint a picture of the world as others saw it, and there to show the reality that Akihito knew it to be. Those two things were completely different, and all this time he'd been trying to believe in delusion while cluelessly ignoring his reality.
The world as he knew it changed the moment he met Asami, and while Akihito was no innocent; he'd still been fighting the entire notion of Asami's existence in his life every step of the way.
What Asami did was irreparable, the black stain on his name would always be there now no matter which way Akihito looked at it; he'd always be that reporter that had some sort of association with Asami Ryuichi.
And, no matter what choice Akihito chose to make, that was never going to change, yet the masochistic side of himself told him it was probably better like this.
The ironic part of it all, the part that stung the most right now just as his lungs screamed for respite, was that even if all this hadn't happened, even if he still lived in that penthouse with Asami as that golden boy reporter who fought for his ideals on justice; it would still be a lie.
Akihito was a useless liar, even he knew that. There was no point in covering a lie with yet more lies
He didn't need to fight shadows with light or justice, the law was bullshit, and, it'd taken this to realize that he only wanted to bring evil to ruin any way he could, he didn't care where he fought from, as long as he won.
There would be no stain if he painted his entire name black and submerged himself into the biggest force of all, a force capable of ruining everything.
"Kirishima san, he's running. Fast." With trepidation lumping in his throat, the secretary hoped to whatever deity who would listen that Akihito was running where he wanted him to. He was tired.
The city was a mess, though Feilong had been true to his word, the Baishe leader just didn't give off the same flare, and it felt as though without Asami they just might wither.
Vermin had crawled up from the shadows, worms from the woodwork and rats from the holes they called home, a rising tide of the lowest sort, together with Suoh and the rest of the men they'd fought tooth and nail to keep it all clean for Asami, and Akihito too.
"Do you know where?" all eyes were on him, the office a grove of silent black suits all standing to attention in his direction, all waiting for this pivotal moment.
"All he said was Asami, sir."
There it was, the monumental shift that would set a close to this unneeded chapter of words better left unsaid, Kirishima knew exactly what to do now, he'd paint the headlines with the right story this time, and do what should have been done when that first damning article was published.
The station where Asami was being held was on the other side of town, Akihito had been here many times before, yet this time was the most willing he'd ever be, the fastest he'd ever run in this direction.
No space to think and no time to stop, Akihito knew the way better on foot than he did on his scooter or inconspicuous black car. It wouldn't feel the same right now if his lungs weren't empty as he rounded the last corner to see the throng of journalists out front, it wouldn't be the same as the thump of his pulse overrode his ability to hear anything else, or maybe they were all silent as they looked on, anyway.
His descent had started, and this was the only way he wanted it, they couldn't reach him even if they tried.
Kirishima and Suoh met him at the door with a fondness on their faces that he'd been unknowing of because this is where he belonged now, he should have know this was their doing, too, that they would set this up perfectly, nothing less for Asami Ryuichi.
His path was unhindered as the door was pushed open for him, and inside, with a wall of media at his back, where it would always be from this point on; he came face to face with Officer Yamazaki and his uncertain wince, "Takaba, are you sure-
"Let him out, Yamazaki san."
"Very well then, there's no going back now, you know." the rattling of keys and plastic access cards paired with Yamazaki's last warning.
"There never was."
His heart should have slowed as he stood there waiting with the snaps of camera's and bursts of flashes highlighting this new beginning, but it kept its rampant pace as speechlessness held his tongue.
Akihito still didn't know what to say, didn't know if he could ever put into words how he'd hurt down to his bones, the war of conflict in his conscience that'd wanted nothing but Asami's comfort, and at the same time to never see him again.
That hollow feeling of betrayal and self pity in his chest still echoed with a reminder of what Asami had done, the hole would be a long time in closing over.
A hiss of whispers started as the security buzzer blared it's obnoxious siren to announce that people were coming through from the holding cells down the hall, the squeak of shoes on linoleum, the last rattle of a barred door and then finally, the distinctive clack of expensive Italian loafers on the tile floor of the station's main lobby.
He was in that same midnight suit, tall, dark and imposing as usual, a beacon of power and money and everything he used to hate, but could no longer deny.
Akihito should be happy to see him like this, with a pair of handcuffs binding this underworld linchpin, but he was a linchpin to Akihito's cause too, he'd probably always be loathe to admit that, though.
And then he met those all knowing gold eyes that were looking at him as if he were a blind man seeing for the first time, like all he'd known before this was monotone oblivion and Akihito wanted nothing more than to take a fucking picture so he could make this his own damn personal headline that was real to him and no one else. It might have been noisy in that lobby, there might have been things going on all around, but all he could see was Asami and all he could hear was silence as Officer Yamazaki freed Asami of his last restraints.
"This isn't me forgiving you." Akihito finally managed to make his mouth form the words.
Asami understood, that acknowledging dip of his head and sigh of his chest as he released breath told Akihito just how much Asami had been holding on. "I know."
"I probably never will." He ventured on to say, taking one step closer.
"I know." Asami rubbed his now free wrists and waited still, a smile ghosting the curve of his mouth.
"But I'm gonna fix it, Asami. This city, this… mess." And Akihito himself was a mess, but before anything happened, he had to get this out for everyone to see.
"I know." understanding came again, and that look of fondness only grew as Akihito took another step closer.
"And you're gonna help me."
"I know." a chuckle and a hummed breath said Asami knew this was coming, because if Asami could use Akihito, then Akihito was going to make sure it could be the other way around too.
"… If you betray me again, I'll never-
"I know, Akihito, I know." this time, Asami cut him off with his first step forward, opening his arms wide with his black suit to guide Akihito the last of the way.
Warm air caressed his head as Asami breathed in Akihito's scent, as Akihito closed the gap and willingly stepped into the waiting arms of the abyss in front of him to let it swallow him whole.
Behind them, the pure white flashes of cameras and recording devices was blinding, yet nothing could reach him in the darkness.
Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you. – Coldplay