28

Restitution

Chishiya

There was always something about fire that fascinated Chishiya, they way it moved, so gracefully; flames innocently licking the cool night air, seemingly oblivious to their destructive potential. He'd stare at the flames, lost in their etherial dance all night if he could. But he'd soon discovered that the radio he'd snatched from the police station was broken. When he flicked to the Beach's channel desperate for help, while simultaneously trying to calm Niragi, who was suffering a panic attack, he was able to hear the Beach's communications, but they could not in return hear him.

Somehow he managed to calm Niragi enough to get him off the empty street, to the safety of a building nearby. And while he did that, he also somehow managed to convince Akiyama to let go of Kanda and join them on their hunt for shelter to spend the night.

Chishiya set up camp in the middle of a deserted, crumbling shopping centre, lit a small fire and urged both Niragi and Akiyama to sit down and wait for him as he scavenged for supplies.

When he returned with sleeping bags, blankets and spare clothes, neither Niragi nor Akiyama had stirred, both staring silently into the soothing flames.

Niragi didn't protest when Chishiya helped him peel out his bloody, drenched clothes and boots, and wrapped him in a blanket jut as Niragi gave in to his exhaustion, ignoring Chishiya's offer for a change of clothes.

Niragi promptly curled into the sleeping bag Chishiya had brought him and drifted into a restless slumber, his back turned towards the fire.

Akiyama on the other hand ignored Chishiya entirely, staring unblinking into the flickering flames, knees propped up, elbows leaning on his knees and resting his chin on the bridge his bloody arms formed between them.

Once Chishiya was certain that both men would be alright for a moment without him, he made his way back to the police station to retrieve their medical supplies and weapons.

An unfamiliar sense of relief washed over him when he returned, finding Niragi and Akiyama in the exact same position he left them in, unharmed, safe.

Now, hours later, Chishiya sat in front of the fire, wrapped in a thick blanket, dressed in a fresh T-shirt and sweatpants. His wet clothes, along with Niragi's, hung nearby to dry. A faint crackle of the flames filled the air as they danced lazily, providing warmth and light in the otherwise desolate shopping centre. The radio, still broken, lay in his lap. Chishiya's hands were methodically at work, carefully repairing the wires and circuits in a silence that felt anything but comforting.

A small, half-open packet of chips sat beside him. Every now and then, he'd reach for one, munching on it absentmindedly while his focus remained on the radio.

Chishiya glanced over at Niragi now and then, watching him as he tossed and turned. His face, despite the blood caked on it, now seemed oddly vulnerable, as if the nightmares that haunted him in his waking hours had followed him into his dreams. His brow furrowed occasionally, lips parted, whispers of words escaping that were too soft to catch. It was unusual, seeing Niragi like this—so different from the ruthless, volatile man he thought he knew so well. But, perhaps, that's what exhaustion and the weight of the game did to people. Even the toughest couldn't outrun the demons forever.

Yet when Chishiya replayed the events of the last few days, he couldn't help but linger on these vulnerable moments, the moments Niragi allowed him a glimpse behind his defensive mask of cruelty. For it was these moments – if Chishiya was honest with himself – that seemed to draw him closer to Niragi. Not simply out of curiosity, out of a desire to understand his actions, his behaviour better; no, he realised he felt a connection to him, some form of a bond slowly manifesting between them. And he was convinced Niragi felt the same.

A week ago he would never have insisted on shielding Chishiya from gunfire. If anything Niragi would have happily opted to put a bullet in Chishiya's head given the chance. But their secrets, their painful past, their guilt and regret – all these things had brought them closer, made them both realise and admit how agonisingly lonely they both truly were.

The real question was, what exactly he felt for Niragi. Was it just curiosity, a yearning to uncover what was nature and what was nurture in Niragi's behaviour? Or was this feeling what others viewed as a friendship, companionship… or something even more than that? Chishiya struggled to make sense of it, the many unknown emotions flooding his senses, clouding his judgement, manipulating his rationality. It was such a foreign sensation, a feeling so new and peculiar, that Chishiya's usually composed mind threatened to tumble into complete disorder if he wasn't careful.

The fire crackled, its warmth unable to thaw the chill that clung to the air, when suddenly, a soft cry broke the silence.

Niragi stirred, his body jerking slightly in his sleep. His breath quickened, a strangled sound escaping his throat as his hands twitched restlessly, gripping the blanket as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Chishiya paused, watching carefully, but when Niragi let out another quiet whimper, his face contorted in fear, he knew it wasn't just a bad dream - it was another nightmare.

Setting the radio down, Chishiya moved toward Niragi, placing a firm but soothing hand on his shoulder. "Niragi," he said softly, his voice calm and steady. "It's just a dream. You're safe."

Niragi twitched again, his body tense and rigid, but the moment Chishiya's hand pressed down more firmly, the tension began to ease. He mumbled incoherently, his breaths slowing, and after a moment, he seemed to settle, sinking deeper into the sleeping bag.

Chishiya left his hand on Niragi's shoulder for a little while longer, feeling the slight tremor in his friend's body slowly fade. He glanced back at Akiyama, who was now staring at him, his eyes reflecting the orange flames but filled with a different kind of intensity. There was no malice in his gaze, no suspicion, just quiet observation.

Breaking the silence, not wanting to be left to his own confusing thoughts, Chishiya pulled his hand from Niragi's shoulder and finally asked, his voice cutting through the crackling of fire, "How do you know him?"

Akiyama blinked, as if pulled from a trance. His eyes drifted back to the fire, his face unreadable as if carved from stone. He didn't respond right away, as if weighing whether or not to share a story that had been buried for years.

"I used to live on the same street as Niragi," Akiyama began quietly, his voice low and distant, as if he were speaking more to the fire than to Chishiya. "I'd see him almost every day," Akiyama ushered, his voice rough. "He was always by himself, walking with his head down, like he was trying to disappear. But the kids - his bullies - they never let him. It wasn't just name-calling, you know? It was worse. They were vicious."

Chishiya's eyes regarded him intently, catching Akiyama's expression, the flicker of pain in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw.

"They'd wait for him after school," Akiyama continued, his voice tight. "Four or five of them. They'd catch him in the alley behind the schoolyard usually. And if Niragi somehow managed to avoid them, they'd intercept him somewhere else. One time, I saw them shove his face into a puddle, laughing as he struggled to breathe. They'd hold him there until he was choking, then pull him up just before he passed out, only to push him down again." Akiyama's fists clenched, his knuckles white. "Sometimes they'd just beat him. Kicking him, punching him. I remember once… they stripped him down, left him naked and broken in the rain, out in the cold. But I didn't stop them. I never did."

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on their faces as Akiyama's voice grew more bitter, more regretful.

"I wanted to help. I wanted to step in. But I was… weak. Afraid. So instead, I just watched, hid behind the corner of a building or across the street, only to then pretend like I didn't know what was happening. I'd walk by him, his face all bruised up, his lip bleeding, and still I'd do nothing."

Chishiya remained silent, feeling a pang of anguish in his heart as he imagined a younger Niragi beaten, bruised, humiliated.

"Then there was his mother," Akiyama said, his voice now a mix of disgust and sorrow. "She wasn't much better. Every time I'd see him come out of his house, I could hear her screaming at him through the open door. She'd call him worthless, tell him he was an embarrassment to her, that she wished he was never born." Akiyama shook his head, his eyes darkening with the memory. "I remember once I heard her say she wished he would just die already. She said it so casually, like it was nothing, like it was an afterthought."

Akiyama let out a breath, his voice growing quieter. "I saw him change over time. I think he held on for as long as he could, but there was a day… a day when I knew he'd given up."

"It was the day he tried to end it," Akiyama said, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I saw it in his eyes, this… emptiness, like he wasn't even there anymore. I didn't go to school that day. I couldn't. I followed him instead, saw how his bullies forced him to pierce his own tongue with an old needle. I hid when his bullies finally left and almost lost sight of him because I stayed hidden for too long, paralysed by my own cowardice."

Akiyama's hands trembled slightly as he spoke, his voice tight with emotion. "I found him in an alley, slumped against the wall, bleeding out. He'd slit both his wrists. I'll never forget how pale he looked, how much blood there was… Just like tonight..."

Chishiya felt a weight settle in his chest, pictures of Kanda's dying form in Akiyama's arms flashing before his minds eye, pictures of Kanda bleeding out. Yet in his mind it wasn't Kanda's face he saw - it was Niragi's. A chill trickled down his spine seeping all the way into his bones and he had to force his eyes shut for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from falling apart.

"I called the ambulance. I stayed with him until they came. I never told anyone it was me who found him." Akiyama's eyes flicked toward Niragi, his expression filled with regret. "He never knew. He never knew that I was there, that I watched all of it, and did nothing to stop it. And if he did... he never acknowledged it."

The fire crackled again, filling the silence between them. Chishiya opened his eyes and could see the weight of that guilt in Akiyama's eyes, the years of regret that had followed him, haunting him like a shadow.

"You had to survive too," Chishiya finally said, his voice calm and steady thanks to years of practice, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of sympathy.

Akiyama shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe. But it doesn't change the fact that I could've done more. I could've stepped in, I could've been his friend. Maybe… maybe things would've been different for him. Maybe he wouldn't be like this."

Chishiya glanced at Niragi again, his eyes projecting a rare admiration as he listened.

"He's still here," Chishiya said quietly, staring at Niragi with his messy hair and blood stained face with hyper-vigilance. "He survived. That counts for something."

Akiyama nodded, though the regret in his eyes didn't fade. "Yeah. But sometimes surviving isn't enough."

For a moment they were once again enveloped by an uneasy silence. The fire crackled softly, the quiet rustle of Chishiya's hand moving over the broken radio the only other sound. Akiyama stared into the flames, lost in the haunting memories he'd shared, while Chishiya attempted to remain focused, occasionally munching on chips as he worked, his expression unreadable.

"How did you two meet?" Akiyama asked after several moments of silence.

Chishiya's hands stilled over the radio, contemplating his words before he shot Akiyama a quick glance. "We joined a group around the same time. We were both chosen to help govern the members as our group grew over time."

"Niragi at the top of the food chain? How did he manage that?" Akiyama whispered, seeming genuinely curious.

"By becoming someone he was never meant to be. By spreading fear, isolating himself as a means to protect himself. In that regard we are very much alike," Chishiya explained solemnly, keeping his voice low.

"You both clearly care for each other. I suppose you were braver than I ever was. You're not afraid of anything, are you?" Akiyama's lingering gaze burned with awe and a touch of resentment when he asked this question.

Chishiya swallowed hard, surprising himself with his sudden hesitancy, the irrepressible urge to spill out his heart overpowering his rational mind within a heartbeat. "For a long time nothing scared me, no. I had nothing to live for, no goals, no dreams. I thought if I died no one would notice anyway, and I realised that I didn't care whether I lived or not. It's difficult to be afraid when you don't care." Chishiya's gaze shifted over to Niragi, watching the shadows cast on his peaceful form by the flames, lost in their other-worldly revels before he continued, his voice but a whisper. "But tonight... I felt fear for the first time since I can remember."

"Fear for him," Akiyama concluded perceptively.

Chishiya gave a slow nod in response. "He understands me for some inexplicable reason, sees something in me I'd believed long lost. Before all this, I was simply surviving. And just like you said before, sometimes surviving isn't enough. I hadn't even realised how lost I was until he managed to wake me up. I can't remember the last time I cared for someone."

Akiyama studied Chishiya for a moment, a flicker of gratitude passing over his haunted expression. "I'm glad you've found each other. And I'm glad you were able to help him."

But as Akiyama's final words hung in the air—I'm glad you were able to help him—the silence was suddenly broken by a voice neither of them expected to hear.

"I remember you now."

Niragi's voice cut through the quiet, rough and low. Both Chishiya and Akiyama froze.

Niragi, who had been lying still for what seemed like hours, curled up in his sleeping bag, slowly shifted onto his side to face them. His eyes were half-lidded, but sharp, watching both of them intently, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.