A blow came to Ryuji's head from some goon when he spotted the flames quickly licking at the floor, their image reflecting in its shiny polish. The impact sent stars to his vision, and he stabbed the guy through the eye for delivering it, ignored the weird yelp from Joe, and scoured the room for Rock while the fire spread rapidly, spotting him bluescreening over the mess that was this entire day.
For the final time, he put a lid on the bloodthirsty snake and flipped the switch.
He had taken a beating yet moved with haste until he could grab Rock by the wrist and pull him away from the approaching flames. Masses of bodies, most of which were Kain's less-than-loyal asslickers fled to the main exit of the ballroom alongside plumes of smoke. They'd be fucked if the heat got to them given the gasoline. Ryuji too, pushing and shoving past some of the losers that Kain had recruited. He looked over his shoulder, now seeing the inferno crawl up the walls and blow out the remaining windows.
Amid the hellfire, there were two shapes; Kain and Grant, standing embraced, waiting for death. Soon consumed by the flames before Billy shut the doors to the ballroom with Joe's help to slow down the fire, earning a protest from Terry about the men inside until Geese sternly reminded him that Kain and Grant chose to stay behind – a fact that stung the wolf's moral code. Smoke had already poured out to the hallway, shortening any time for a debate as the mass scoured to adjacent rooms for a route of escape. Maybe they knew of a faster way out, but Ryuji didn't think to test it, running down the hallway with Rock dragging behind.
They had made it to the grandiose entrance hall of the palace where the door stood wide open to the cool evening air. A waft of smoke made the fucking thing barely visible. From the corner of his eyes, Ryuji caught the approaching glow of the fire and the sound of pressure ripping the doors to the ballroom apart, blowing out more windows. He had to cover his mouth and nose with his arm as the smoke got thicker thanks to the door to the outside acting like a chimney, listening to footsteps running across the floor, wails of terror, and endless coughing.
His eyes burned, and the entrance became less legible, but willpower kept the adrenaline pumping, forcing him to move fucking forward and ignore the tiny displeasure of not murdering Kain and Grant.
Across the courtyard from the entrance of the palace, there stood a convoy of black vehicles guarded by more of Geese's men. The people keeping watch had the sense to open the doors of their cars so everyone could practically throw themselves inside the backseats or whatever else could fit them. Ryuji did the noble thing first; he shoved Rock into the open maw of a van, then hopped inside with a sound thud, gritting his teeth at the pain that shot through his body at landing on hard metal. As the ache passed, so did the adrenaline and the one-minded goal to just get the fuck out. His mind had been racing in fifty million directions until all thoughts ceased and he could gather them all, sort them into their proper boxes.
Ryuji sank into himself, pressing his back against the wall of the van, and let out a deep, deep sigh, closing his eyes just to ground himself for a moment. When he opened them again, it occurred to him that he never let go of Rock's wrist, keeping a tight grip this entire time. When he did unclench his fingers, the younger man shifted and curled himself into a ball, legs pulled to his chest, head buried in his knees.
"Rock," Ryuji called out and inched closer until their shoulders touched. A little alarmed when there was no response. "Hey. It's over. You can stop being so fuckin' sad now."
"Why bother?" asked Rock through the muffler of his knees, sounding so indignant and depressed all the same. Like he had been reverted to the trainwreck he was when all of this began. It fucking stung something fierce watching him like this. "It doesn't matter. Whatever. I'm a fuckup. I keep fucking up. I'm fucked up forever and everyone knows. Whatever."
Something potent and unpleasant stoked in Ryuji's chest at that. He recognized the feeling from when he had pulled Rock out of one of Kain's kamikaze missions for the final time. It had come time and time again, usually triggered whenever Rock reverted to a past version of himself. Ryuji came to realize that all this time, he had felt empathy. A rare treat in his life.
He shifted until he sat in front of Rock, gently reclaiming one of his wrists. Orange light peered through the windows to the van's door so there wasn't much light but there was just enough for him to see the red rings of torn skin under the cuffs. Kid fought tooth and nail to get out of wherever the hell he was chained up.
"Let me remove the fuckin' things," Ryuji offered, pulling one hand from the knee they rested on.
Slowly, Rock shifted until he sat cross-legged but kept his head down while Ryuji used the letter opener's tip to manipulate the double locks of the cuffs until they opened and dropped to the floor with a hard clatter. Looking at the restraints, Rock began to move his hand repetitively, making a starburst gesture, clenching his fist, and opening it. Repeatedly, then rolling his wrist. Curious yet concerned, Ryuji took him by the forearms and lifted them to have a better look. It would appear to be a pinched nerve.
"Don't flick around with your hands too much," he said bluntly, looking into Rock's eyes. "You'll need to rest for a day or two. I bet the old hag is gonna say the same shit."
Defrosting a bit from his perpetual veil of misery, Rock simply nodded and let his limbs be maneuvered until he sat more comfortably with his wrists firmly planted in his lap. His head still hung low, still depressed, still miserable. Unmoving when the older man reached up to cup his face in both hands. There wasn't much of an uplifting nature Ryuji could say that he felt was worth being said but fuck it, he said it regardless.
"You're a strong one, wolfy."
"I'm not," Rock bit out, curling further into himself, pulling his legs back to his chest. Swiftly, he swiped a hand over his face.
"…Fuck, if you ask Terry, he'd disagree with you."
"I don't know. I'm sorry," Rock blurted out, a little frantic, honestly desolate. "I don't know. I don't."
Yeah well, his reaction wasn't unwarranted. And who knew what he had endured after the car crash. One of these days, Ryuji would have to ask but for now, he forced Rock's gaze upwards gingerly and saw, for a moment, fear flicker in the red eyes staring back at him. At times like these, he wished he had some of those linguistics skills that Terry and Geese possessed just so he could say something inspirational and heartfelt. But all he really could was string a bunch of cusswords together and call it a day.
"Yeah, well. It's over. You're free of it all now. No fuckin' Kain, no stupid Grant. The two of them are burning in hell anyway while you're here, fuckin' flying above the clouds," he said so firmly that the anxiety halted for a moment, and ever so slightly, Rock settled down.
For the hell of it, Ryuji kissed him quickly and got the pleasure of watching him melt a notch – just as the doors to the van went open and Terry dumped himself inside with Kim. Here wasn't very spacious and it became a little crowded with four grown-ass men in here. Soon after, two of Geese's goons took the driver's seat and the passenger seat respectively before the van drove off and Kim stood up ever so unsteadily to peer at the inferno behind them.
"Wonder if they called the fire department. That fire looks like it'll spread to the entire forest. Scary even if no one else seems to live out here," his voice sounded a little tight and he eased himself by coughing.
The van reeked to high heaven of gasoline and smoke although Ryuji could mostly smell blood from his own nostrils. It had dried up anyway. He scooted away from Rock just a little bit, watching the younger man fold into himself again.
"Well, I did before we got in here," Terry answered and inched to the wall across from him where Ryuji and Rock were, trying to come close to the latter now pressed into the corner. Noticing this, he halted and shot a quick glance at Ryuji which for some reason felt a bit agonizing.
Terry just sat there for a while, watching Rock being all worn down and haunted, then heaved a sigh before he put a hand on the young man's shoulder – only to pull back at the uncomfortable tremble he got in response, defeated. He remained close, just in case and Ryuji couldn't help but feel a slight sting of envy.
Things moved very quickly once the entourage reached Geese Tower. Vans were parked, people were escorted, workstations were set up, nurses went on the attack and time passed in a blur. Then everything slowed down again by the time, Ryuji sat in one of the tower's hotel rooms and watched an apprentice nurse of Matilda's check up on Rock. A pretty little thing that could just as well have been the granddaughter of the old hag. Ryuji had forgotten her name when she introduced herself. Abcde? Amy? Alice? Alice sounded about right.
"Okay, so you got a concussion. Should take around two weeks to heal on average. But you gotta take plenty of naps, do a lot of rest, and keep your mind relaxed," the nurse girl said, all peppy and bubbly in a way that was too similar to Terry. "You also got nerve injury in both wrists. Treat them well and it should be over in a few days or a month. It'll go faster if you just rest but some ice and heat can help with the pain."
Rock, in his infinite nervousness around women, nodded but stared down his lap and stayed like that until the nurse left and he dropped side-first onto the bed with a quiet thud, closing his eyes. Ryuji swallowed and headed to the bed, pulling the blanket over the younger man.
"You heard the bint. Rest up, wolfy."
There was no response, but Rock wasn't sleeping.
Letting out a deep breath, Ryuji quietly licked his wounds at how everything hurt with life scraping his skin off against tinsels and barbed wire until he was left bleeding and raw. There was nothing he could do about it, nothing to just fix things and revert them as they used to be. The air was choking and he felt like vomiting, quietly left the room to bask in the bright lights from the hotel's hallway, remembering why he preferred cheap renting and shitty motels to gauche places like these.
Adding was the helplessness rendering him so numb, weak, and irritated that he barely knew what to do with himself. What he used to do against it all, harm and destroy at best, drink and smoke at worst, wasn't working anymore. It couldn't when there was another person connected to this mess. Indistinct thoughts of said person made Ryuji's head swirl so he leaned against the nearest wall, and dropped his head in disdain at himself, the world, and the assholes responsible for everything.
"Yamazaki," Terry's wary voice came through the hallway, ending a flurry of self-destructive thoughts. "A word with you."
At first, Ryuji silently mocked the attempted conversation because of how bizarre the dynamics were. Ryuji was older than Rock. He was older than Terry – yet Terry was his father-or-brother-in-law if someone actually cared about that, took everyone and dumped them down a hole of traditionalism and labels. And like every cliché in-law overprotective of his family, Terry went to interrogate Ryuji for some goddamn reason with guarded, careful gazes.
Enough for the older man to snip out an irritated; "What?"
"You look tired," Terry remarked, once again unable to contain his emotions apparently. Shifting from guarded to neurotic. "Fair since it's late, I guess. Is Rock sleeping? Are you staying with him? Because if not, I-I think I should guard him. You know, so you could get a break?"
Ryuji couldn't help but glower at him but refrained from spitting out some sharp, defensive comment. Not when Terry looked so desperately unhappy. So, he did the man a favor and said; "Don't worry 'bout it."
Yet Terry still lingered, looking like a sad puppy dog, looking like he was willing himself into talking about things he didn't want to face. Given the obvious…yeah, one couldn't blame him. So, he stared Ryuji down and the latter got slightly more aggravated.
"Is he okay?" There was something deeply broken in Terry's voice and his disposition, brittle and overworked with emotions.
Ryuji heaved a sigh, genuinely exasperated, lead pooling in his stomach. "The fuck do you think?"
"Oh. Right," Terry responded stupidly, biting the inside of his cheek and began pacing around the hallway in panicked frustration, taking off his ugly baseball cap and pressing the heel of his palm against his eye. When he opened his mouth again, the trembling in his voice was potent. "Shit, I-I didn't know that had happened. Fuck, man, I, ugh, I shouldn't have left. God, Rock. I'm so sorry…"
The heartache burned through his every word, upset and horrified at a level Ryuji hadn't imagined he could reach before a burst of angry tears broke out of him. He swiped a hand over his eyes that did nothing, then started laughing hollowly before sliding that same hand onto his face.
"I'm sorry," he uttered through the palm of his hand. His misery radiated off Ryuji's and it just continued like that in an endless ping-pong of unsettling, shitty feelings. Ryuji's go-to instinct would compel him to snap and go on some kind of bender, but he didn't have the energy to muster up even the slightest of fights. At best, he just stood there, knocked flat, feeling so goddamn useless because he didn't know what to do now for Rock. What he could do for himself was to take out on someone.
"Stop being a bitch," Ryuji let some of that habitual reactionary aggression seep out and watched Terry visibly squirm at the acidity despite himself. "Go in there and you talk to him if you're so damn sorry. You do not want to see the version of him that Kain fuckin' created. I sure as hell don't but I'm gonna see it come back anyway because there's nothing I can fuckin' do since that stupid asshole and his pet horse and the stalker loser ruined everything. Shut the fuck up, stop whining to me, and do something about it because I fuckin' can't!"
At the end of the uncontrollable oil spill of words, Ryuji breathed deeply and found himself subsequently flustered, furious, pissed, fucking drowning in…whatever the hell he was feeling. His entire body stung, especially his throat and eyes, more fucked up by this day than anything recent by a long shot.
Somehow, not that it was hidden at all, Terry saw it and responded to it in his typical nice guy fashion. "Yamazaki-"
"Fuck off," Ryuji bit back, snapping a little more as something awful cut through his entire body, nearly breaking his nerve.
"…I was about to say that…I'm happy that you, everyone cares so much about Rock," Terry said, his tone so unfamiliarly blank and flat that it had to be apathetic honesty. "He didn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve any of this. He's trying so hard to be there for others and I failed him. I should have been there for him."
Ryuji found his head swirling, letting himself absorb those words and all of Terry's guilt, feeling it all cut through and bleed all over him, tension carving him open before he could take a breath to stop it, getting more upset by the second, settling into some faux semblance of calm. "…Just talk to him."
Without a word, Terry knocked on the door and entered while Ryuji pressed his back against the wall and slid down. He had stopped smoking before he came back to South Town, but he was itching for the nicotine to dull everything. Or hell, whatever coke could do. Instead, he just sat here and mindlessly played with the letter opener from Kain's charred palace. It was an antique with a vividly Victorian design but stained black with dried blood. It looked like it could sell for a pretty penny.
More footsteps echoed through the hallway, and he assumed it was some goons calling it a night. Not Geese Howard, still in his blasted suit, stopping and staring at the door, then at the man sitting across from it.
"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Ryuji asked sardonically. "You know, senior citizen and shit."
"Very funny but I'm not in the mood for wordplay and games," Geese said flatly, arms hanging down his sides. That was the sign of a serious man meaning some serious business. "I'm just gonna cut the bullshit because it's late, Mai is very upset and there's a lot to unpack here."
"Uh-huh," Ryuji shrugged. "So?"
"Did you know what Kain had done to Rock all this time and the extent of it?" Geese asked, calm and direct despite being visibly tense and subtly furious. "Is that what you had enough of?"
God-fucking-dammit. It was such a ruthless pivot to the topic that Ryuji's brain was beginning to overcook inside his skull. Fuck it, he thought. There was no hiding the truth anymore anyway. "…Yeah. Kain and Grant were both fuckin' complicit."
Something different, something troubled, settled over Geese's face in a way that had never been there before, and it was as disturbing as it was heartbreaking.
"Why?" he pressed. "Did Rock ever tell you why?"
Something came over his expression as if he realized the futility of asking why some piece of shit was raping a family member. It was a real gotcha moment, but Ryuji was far too much in a bad mood to do anything about it. And there was no answer to it anyway most of the time. But there was one in this instance, which Rock had alluded to before. And with the portrait at the palace, it all made a horrible lot of sense.
"…They said he looked like his mom," Ryuji said, trying not to think of the blue binder and the letters and its pictures. "Kain had a portrait of her in his castle. Some sister-fucker Greek myth shit."
Geese stared at him blankly as everything set in. There was something chillingly lifeless in his eyes like he was traveling through the entire emotional spectrum with an aftertaste of murderous intent. Then he closed his eyes as if trying to contain himself from calling someone to retrieve the ashen remains of Kain and Grant so they could be mutilated and then set on fire again, just as the door to the hotel room went open and Terry walked out with a haunted look on his face. He jittered at Geese's sudden appearance but didn't jump into battle mode like he'd usually do, just avoiding the old man's gaze.
"…He-he has scars on his arms," Terry blurted out and released a sigh of abject hopelessness, stress bleeding into his voice. "I've never seen so many of them. A bunch of them covering like he...It's…He didn't have those before."
Ryuji rose to his feet before he could stop himself, staring at the door. "Has he-"
Terry didn't move except for a painful nod of his head. "…I found him with-with a, ugh, I mean I stopped him before he bled out. He's sleeping now."
Ryuji didn't settle back down at that, something awful bleeding through him. His body wouldn't start moving even though he should kick down the door and go back in. Rock had stopped the self-harm for so long that Ryuji dropped it from his mind.
"…I assume also influenced by Kain's abuse," Geese said, measured and monotone, yet a slight smidge of pain managed to seep through.
"Yamazaki, what the fuck? What did Kain do to him?!" it came from Terry, suddenly heated and still neurotic, now very angry. "Did you know it was happening? Why did you take him to Kain then? What is actually wrong with you – aside from everything? I should have taken him away when I got back. I thought you were good to him and then this comes out. You don't know how to be good to others. All you do is fucking everything up and hurt the people around you. Stop fucking lying to yourself!"
"You won't get anything by ranting, Bogard," Geese interjected, steadily but cooly, and raised his hand, then folded his arms over his chest. He thoroughly ignored the way Terry stared him down.
"Bite me," Terry scoffed. "I have good reason to rant, Howard."
Ryuji did not ignore the glare sent his way, releasing a short breath, suddenly yet so inhumanly angry, he could feel it pulsing through his body and settle as pressure against his temples, forcing the words out of him before he could think them through.
"Oh yeah? Well, stop lecturing me, you phony fuck. Yeah, I knew Kain whored him out. I had to save him afterwards more times than you can fuckin' count. You don't think it felt like shit watching that over and over again? Or finding out that Kain used him as a substitute for his sister complex or watching him scratch himself bloody or hearing him blame himself for everything that happened? I took him with me because he wanted a resolution, and he deserves that. He doesn't deserve all this bullshit, but he wouldn't have gotten any of it if you hadn't been such a selfish ass and fled the city with your tail between your legs without talking to him. A letter? Shove it down your dickhole, jackass. Fuck that, fuck this, and fuck you!"
The silence that followed afterward was painful, Ryuji still heard blood rushing through his ears, still felt the anger pulsate through his entire body. Geese had a blank expression on his face and Terry's cheeks turned redder than his cap, viscerally frustrated. "You knew. You evil asshole. You-you-you let this happen to him! You-"
"I don't need you to spell it out for me, Bogard. I know. I fuckin' get it!" Ryuji snapped at him, not even attempting to process how shitty he felt. He tossed the letter opener to the floor with such impact that it bounced off the carpet and paced around, still desperately enraged.
A moment of clarity phased through the haze of fury. Yes, Ryuji could have stopped it the first time, he had seen it happen. He understood. He just didn't care to back then. That was on him for not having enough humanity to get over himself. It was a wonder that Rock never pointed it out. It had all started with Terry-rather, with Andy dying and his brother wasn't unreasonable for leaving the city in his grief. He probably wouldn't have if he knew what it had led up to. So Ryuji stood with it, standing with nausea almost becoming unbearable. He didn't cry, he didn't drop to the floor even if he felt so chopped and defeated, he could collapse into a heap of himself.
"Terry, I'm about to do something I'd otherwise not even consider because trust me, I don't like you," Geese sighed, long into the miserable silence. Sounded tired and mentally defeated. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known any of this would have happened. No one could."
"You being nice? What is this, opposite day?" Terry laughed weakly, his voice grainy and quivering.
"I'm an asshole. Not a fucking asshole. Blame Mai," Geese shrugged, then pinned a stare at Ryuji, unfolding his arms. "And you."
"What?" Ryuji forced himself to look at the man instead of stumbling into more aggression and lashing out.
"You're unrecognizable. But that's a good thing since you're bending over backward to keep Rock happy. Consider it making up for past mistakes."
"Uh-huh," Ryuji deadpanned and had a very hard time believing that he did anything else than fuck shit up. A more irrational side of him also sat with the urge to call Geese out for being a garbage deadbeat father but it'd just be the pot calling the kettle black at this point.
"I-I think we should learn from this. All three of us," Terry added, a little less explicitly depressed. His eyes and nose were red but there was some spark of hope in his gaze as he took a second to put something together verbally, somewhat shredded in his tone. "Rock is a good-hearted kid and he got a good head on his shoulders. But all of this can break even the toughest person and he feels like it's all his fault but it's not. We all failed him in one way or another. We should do what we can to make it up to him. Be there for him."
"Tch, what if we don't know what to do?" Ryuji scoffed, overwhelmed by something or another. "I'm sure you two got something going on but I got fuck all."
"Incorrect," Terry's tone and gaze were firm. He stepped closer and Ryuji momentarily felt Yamazaki rear his ugly head, begging to stab the guy. "You have a lot or otherwise, Rock wouldn't put up with you. Kim told me how much you mean to him, how hard he worked when you almost died. You've stuck with him despite it all. You know what to do."
Ryuji had forgotten about Kim since coming to the tower, honestly. Wasn't the jerk supposed to be in Korea?
A quick glance at Geese made the old man raise his hands for a moment. "I'll take my chances with him when he's in a better state. He's still testing what flavor of tolerance I should be treated with."
"You can do it. I know you can," Terry's lips twitched up a notch, turning to Ryuji.
"Put a damn cork in it already. You're gonna make me vomit with your chirpy optimism and heroic nonsense. I fuckin' hate the both of you by the way but I'll tolerate it for Rock's sake," Ryuji growled but absorbed the encouragement, then entered the hotel room again with just the tiniest bit of hope.
Despite being described as sleeping, Rock sat upright in bed, wrapped up in the blankets. He was only visible from the dull glow of the city lights and the full moon that came through the curtains. Ryuji drew the curtains to get a better look at the younger man, spotting the approaching twilight. One look at the clock showed that there wasn't a lot of time before dawn. With a heavy heart, Ryuji sat on the edge of the bed and decided to just, fuck it, open his big fat stupid mouth, and hope he'd do it right somehow. Suddenly talking to Rock when he was at his lowest became so much harder.
"Weren't you sleeping?"
"I did and then I heard yelling," Rock answered softly and very much tired. "I can't sleep anymore."
Something went dead inside Ryuji as it occurred to him that Rock had probably heard everything from the proceeding dogfight or whatever it was. "So…I guess you heard it all."
"…Yeah."
A thick uncomfortable silence settled between them as everything was processed and indexed in whatever fucking boxes fit them. All ended when Ryuji swiped a hand over his face and opened his mouth again, numb with despair. "Aw, fuck. This is the longest night in the history of long nights."
He turned his head and looked at Rock, spotting the upset and guilt in his eyes. Spotting dark drops of blood on the sheets. Terry did mention it happening. But from where did Rock get the blade for it?
"I'm sorry," he said in a weak whisper, a weird smile stretching his face as he grew increasingly bitter and manic with a distraught laugh. "Fuck it, now Terry knows about this too. He knows everything like everyone else. It doesn't matter. Fuck it. Who cares. Why were you arguing about me? It's pointless. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic. Why am I here? Just kill me. Just-just split me open, stab me a million times, and toss my gross filthy cadaver over a cliff. End me. Fucking kill me. It'd be awesome if I died. Who fucking cares anyway. I am worth nothing. It doesn't matter. It's cool. It's whatever."
Ryuji ignored the flippant self-degradation and pulled the younger man close to him in a tight desperate embrace. And stayed like that as Rock resisted after a slight pause, then sank into the hug with a tremble.
"…It's not your fault," Ryuji said with a tired sigh, feeling a scoff against his shoulder but countering it by running his thumb along the back of Rock's neck. "Ugh, I don't know what to fuckin' do with all of this anymore. Neither does Terry or Geese. Or any of the other cocksuckers. They're all busting their balls from all of this because they do give a shit about you. They are fuckin' hurting for you. This shit and Kain and whatever, it's not you and it's not gonna be what defines you. All the other assholes would tell you the same thing."
"Are you…?" Rock asked and Ryuji had to pull back because the nausea that came from spilling his own gut became a tad too strong.
"I don't know what you're asking but you already know the answer to whatever it is. I told you; I'm on your team every fuckin' time."
Rock flinched with a sob, then one more, then another, and another as he tipped forward, resting his head against Ryuji's chest. They sat there for a minute or two as it slowly got brighter outside, and Ryuji sat with a feeling he couldn't quite name. It felt like a hybrid; warm but despairing. Soft but painfully sharp. Whatever its name was, he remained with it there until Rock shifted and sat back up. The blanket had dropped from his shoulders, revealing his arms.
And the extent of his self-destruction.
The lower half of his forearms had been saturated with gashes, sizable cuts wrapped up toilet paper (probably by Terry) with blood sticking to it. In the light of this revelation, Rock hung his head low.
"Sorry," he said. "I just couldn't help it. I needed to destroy something or, like, punish myself."
Ryuji had no idea how to respond momentarily. He reached to take one of Rock's hands and held it gently. "I'm not pissed at you. It's been a long night and you don't need to punish yourself for it. But there's only one way to go from here and that's up."
For a moment, Rock was quiet before he sighed and pressed a hand against his face. "I forgot how awful it feels when I'm like this. I hate this me but I don't know what to do about it. I felt like a real normal person for once and now it's over."
"Without Kain and Grant to fuck it up, everything is going back to normal. It's gonna be golden. I fuckin' promise you that," Ryuji added and peeled off the toilet paper to inspect the wounds, feeling a fleeting sense of nausea. He could call the nurse but it was already very early morning anyway, so he stood up and headed for the bathroom.
It was here where he got the answer for Rock's self-harm.
The mirror had been broken. And bloody shards lay in the trashcan, covered by bloody paper towels. Right. Swallowing the nausea, Ryuji heaved a sigh as he reached for the roll of toilet paper, and ran some of it under the faucet before he returned to the bed to wrap some of it around Rock's arms. They sat on the bed for a moment before exhaustion got the better of them. Ryuji lay down on his back with Rock lying close to but not touching, just curling into a ball of himself.
Much like the first few nights at the abode.
The day didn't properly begin before noon or an hour past. Ryuji woke up from a dream he couldn't remember but found himself exhausted, disoriented, and irritated all the same. He sucked in a deep breath as the room stopped spinning and looked at the other side of the bed and Rock being wide awake but equally busted.
"Can I ask you something?" the younger man asked.
"Sure," Ryuji shrugged, rolling onto his side to look into the red eyes staring back at him.
"What happened to Sorimachi? I mean, since you know everything, seen me at my worst, I figured it could be this esoteric sanctuary between us. Makes me feel a little less exposed."
That took Ryuji aback like a kick to the face. He grumbled a bit and stared up at the ceiling again while he contemplated the answer. Nothing bad would occur from telling Rock about it. But the issue was that it was just so damn difficult to talk about. And it occurred to Ryuji that he had never actually talked about it. Suppose there was a first for everything. "…The old man was ambushed and murdered. Tortured and mutilated. He was like a father to me but I was his bodyguard and I pussied out. Took us weeks to find his body. I fuckin'-I don't know, it did things to me. I don't know what those things are."
A hand slid under the sheets to cover his with a firm squeeze. Fuck. It stung. Ryuji closed his eyes to it, trying so desperately to keep himself steady. His body ached with the sheer effort of remembering and putting everything into words. The time after Sorimachi's death was a blur that he still couldn't remember well until he washed up in Hong Kong, functionally dysfunctional. But letting someone else in to see the cyclone going inside highlighted how fucked he had been. Yet it was only fair that Rock had asked, given all his wounds being put on display – involuntarily. Fuck it. Whatever. Might as well get it all out there to the one person Ryuji trusted fully.
"Anything else?"
Rock didn't answer at first as he reached up and traced the length of Ryuji's entire arm until his hand cradled the older man's cheek. "What is the Hakkeshu? You'd mention it in your dreams. And someone called…Goe…Geh…?"
"Goenitz. And the Hakkeshu was this fucking cult-thingy led by him. Bunch of freaky, obsessed misanthropists wanting to revive some demon called Orochi or some shit like that. I got pulled into it because of some shit about my heritage. I bought into it at first because I almost got killed in a shootout and had to bare my soul for that piece of shit, Goenitz."
It must have been early on when Ryuji woke up to the freakiness of the Hakkeshu and their obsession with Orochi and whatever the hell the Riot of the Blood was. The time of it was all another haze for him anyway. He had the powers still, although he hadn't used them in a while. They were all dead anyway, right? Fuck if he knew. Damned if he found out.
Something in the way he explained it must have freaked out Rock, who drew in a shuddering, fearful breath. He spoke softly when he finally responded. "That's…fucked up."
Ryuji couldn't help but wince but shrugged. "Yeah, I'm good at collecting incidents like that. It fucked me up too by the way since I had to relive a lot of things."
"Such as…?"
"Sorimachi. Okinawa."
Ryuji paused and realized that he'd have to encroach on yet another painful part of his past. He was pretty sure Rock could feel how tense his body was. But he waited, hoping for a moment or two that he'd be allowed to not say anything even if lying in bed and not looking at each other, made each confession a tiny bit easier.
"Why did you help me?" Rock asked a little firmly. "I'm happy that you did but I wonder."
Oh. This was it, wasn't it? Do or die. Get it out there. Open up fully or forever hold that silence. Slowly, Ryuji sat up and rubbed his eyes from the effects of shifted circadian rhythms.
"I saw myself in you. You know, fuckin'…no family, dead parents, and…" he began, shivering with goosebumps and nausea making rounds through his gut. He did the dare of briefly looking over his shoulder at Rock lying there, attentive, waiting, forthcoming, and overtly empathetic. The perfect listener. Such a rare unicorn of a combination flooding Ryuji with…well, love which he fucking dreaded how potent it was and how much he didn't feel like he deserved it. He threw it out there anyway, but the feeling wouldn't go away.
"The abuse. You getting tossed around. Fuckin' used by people pretending to be trustworthy. I put myself through the wringer as a kid. If I got lucky, maybe they'd give me food and shelter. Sometimes they'd just take what they wanted and not even give a piece of bread."
Silence stretched between them as the revelation was allowed to sit and fester. If the world was gonna end, now would be a good time. It did not. Rock slowly moved around, then wrapped his arms around the older man's shoulder, clutching their bodies together. His lack of verbal response was comforting for the action of his was more than enough. More than enough to pull at something that made Ryuji's breath falter and his innards tug.
It made him say something impulsively stupid as beckoned by the ghost of reactionary snapping aggression at any positive affirmations. "I don't fuckin' know why you stick with me despite all the shit I put you through or let happen. What the hell? The fuck's wrong with you? Are you stupid or somethin'?"
Fuck, he thought in shock, despite himself. Fuck.
"Yeah, I guess I am. But I'm here because I love you," Rock answered. "You make me very happy, fully. I'm so sick of being miserable but I'm a lot less so with you in my life. You deserve happiness too and I wanna give it to you as much as I can. Even if I'm terrible."
Everything inside Ryuji snagged to the point of rendering him emotional. He breathed in, breathed out, and calmed the fuck down for a moment, yet still beaming in all the ways he hadn't done in…well ever.
"Fine, fuck, jeez. Okay. it's-shit, I'll take that happiness then. Methinks you might be the best thing that's ever happened to me The fuck is up with that?" he said, letting everything, all of it, all the stress and tension out of his body and sink into his humanity, more than pleased as he shed the remnants of Tengshe and Yamazaki.
With a little help from the wolf nuzzling the back of his neck.