The car slowly rolled to a stop as Naoto and Gamo arrived at their destination. The sun, now slowly descending from its peak in the sky, was warming the inside of the vehicle. Naoto took a couple of deep breaths. The palms of his hands were covered in sweat, which he unsuccessfully tried to wipe off on his jeans. No matter how much he attempted to take control of it, his breathing would always return to an erratic and uncomfortable mess. Gamo took note of his discomfort and gently placed her hand on his thigh, which caused him to flinch slightly, before he caught himself.
"You don't have to do this," she reminded him. "We can just turn around and leave."
But Naoto shook his head, his eyes tightly shut. "I have to do this."
Gamo watched him fidget uncomfortably in his seat, clearly uncertain of himself.
"You really don't, you know?" Gamo repeated with a smirk on her face.
Naoto opened his eyes again and quickly opened the passenger door, before any further doubt could creep into his mind. With resolution burning in his heart, he stepped out of the car and quickly straightened himself out. His eyes flicked between the multiple glass windows in front of him. He tried his best to ignore the voices in his head telling him that this was a bad idea. There was no way he could let his mind bully him out of this step. It felt like it was a necessity if he was to take further steps in healing.
The driver door slammed shut and Naoto could hear Gamo's footsteps approaching him. Soon enough, a warm, comfortable hand was resting on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"Welcome back to Kazehaya high!" Gamo said with a grand sweep of her free arm, a clear hint of sarcasm to her voice.
The building was exactly the way Naoto remembered. Absolutely no changes or additions had been made in the time they had been gone. Which is why he found it so hard to raise his gaze up to the window of the one room they had come here to visit. The room where he had spent most of his time in this school, where he was most often pushed to the brink of his insanity by those around him. This is where the pain all started.
Naoto turned his head and looked at Gamo, whose confident grin brought some comfort to him. The warm palm of her hand was filling his entire body with soothing heat. With Maki by his side, maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't hurt as bad.
"Thanks for being here Maki," Naoto said gratefully.
"Of course," she responded, gently pushing him forward. "Let's get this show on the road."
Each step toward the front door of the school brought a strange sense of unease to Naoto's heart, but a quick glance to the side and seeing Gamo walking by his side, seemingly carefree, allowed him to breath easily. Gamo quickly stepped up to the double glass doors, pulling one open, before playfully bowing before Naoto.
"After you," she said, snickering to herself.
Naoto smiled as he quickly stepped through the doors and into the entrance. The shoe lockers around them where just as shabby as they had ever been. In fact, some of them seem to have been broken entirely, with at least one of the doors hanging of it's hinges. After Gamo joined his side, Naoto quickly walked up to his old locker. There was a small nick inside the metal, one that had occurred when he accidentally slammed his school bag into it, which had some heavy materials in it on that day. He followed the groove with his index finger and thought about how even such small, meaningless things ended up providing people with an odd sense of nostalgia.
Gamo was standing a little further up in the hall, peering down the hallway, leading off toward the faculty offices and a handful of extra curriculum rooms. As this was rather late into the day, no students could be spotted in the halls, with most regular classes having most likely already ended. As Naoto approached her, done with his locker inspection, Gamo stood by one of the windows, pointing outside, into the school yard, with her thumb.
"Couldn't tell you how many times Hayase and I raced each other out there," Gamo recounted with a cheshire-like grin.
"And who'd end up being the winner?" Naoto asked, throwing up one of his eyebrows.
"Moving right along," Gamo deflected as she began walking toward the staircase, to make her way up to the second floor.
Naoto followed her, clearly amused. It was odd to think that there were carefree days in their lives, when they hadn't known each other yet, where Hayase and Maki were just two very good friends, pushing each other in little rivalries. Not like today, when the one rivalry they had left was starting to cost them everything.
The two waltzed down the hall leading toward the classrooms they had studied in the year they had met. When they reached the classroom of the old Toro gang, Gamo sighed and gestured to move past it. Naoto tilted his head in confusion.
"You're not interested?" he asked her, having to take a few long steps to catch up to her stride.
"In what?" Gamo asked, glancing here and there. "The same old dusty, beat up and uncomfortable desks and chairs we sat on for years? Nah, this is for you."
Naoto sighed, feeling bad that he was dragging her along on something that was most likely incredibly boring to her. He wondered if most of his friends and the ones who loved him simply felt obligated to trod alongside his self pitying journey, when they had so much more they could be using their time for. It felt unfair, wrong even, to have them waste away by his side.
Gamo stopped on a dime, causing him to bump into her back.
"Don't you dare with the sighing young man," she laughed as she turned to face him. "This is where I want to be. By your side."
Naoto stared at the floor, struggling to simply accept the company and kindness. He felt like he himself had nothing to giver in return. Gamo shook her head, an exasperated smile on her lips. With a quick step she closed the insignificant gap they had between them and put her hand on top of his head, gently ruffling his hair.
"Stop thinking so hard about this," the redhead chuckled. "If it makes it easier on you, this is somewhat selfish of me. I get to spend more alone time with you. Gotta pull ahead in the race after all."
Naoto actually found himself laughing at that. He gently pulled away, a slight blush on his face. "Alright, alright. I get it."
Having settled that, Gamo smirked to herself as she began walking again, ever leading the charge down the hall. As they passed one of the rooms toward the end, Naoto stopped. His gaze wandered through the open door, into the empty classroom.
"What's up?" Gamo asked, her hands comfortably resting against the back of her head.
Naoto smiled to himself as he turned his head to answer. "Remember when we challenged Sana for the future of the art club?"
The young man pointed into the classroom, which, a few years ago, held the drawings he had made of Nagatoro, in an attempt to beat the former club president in a competition. Had they failed in their attempt, Sana was all set to shut the club down. But Nagatoro and the rest of the group had stepped in to help him. To be fair, they were essentially the reason he had gotten in trouble with the former club president to begin with, but it still felt nice to know that there was a group of people willing to fight for something that he cared about. It was one of the first times he felt like they were genuine friends.
Suddenly, Naoto found himself laughing aloud, pointing toward Gamo.
"You guys looked so goofy in the cat suits."
Gamo's face flushed hard as she recalled the stuffy, uncomfortably hot cat suit she had to dance around in, while Hayase was wearing her custom-made cheerleader-like attire. It was probably one of the more embarrassing and silly things she had ever done up to that point. Yet, at the time, it was a no brainer to her, as she simply wanted to help Naoto, feeling more than responsible for the tense situation he had found himself in at the time. But she also recalled the biting feeling of jealousy wrapping her into its grasp at the time, due to Hayase getting all of the attention. All sorts of guys, even some girls, were running up to her, trying to get her attention, take pictures with her and just fawning over her. Gamo was sure that Naoto stole more than a handful of glances at her as well.
It annoyed her.
"Zip it you!" Gamo barked. "We did that for you!"
"Yeah, after you guys got me into trouble in the first place," Naoto added, causing Gamo to roll her eyes.
"At least the rest of us weren't flaunting our bodies, the way Hayacchi did!" Gamo spat, tapping her foot anxiously.
"I mean, she was the main event," Naoto admitted, tilting his head in contemplation. "Most people barely even paid attention to my pieces. They all wanted to be 'bullied' by her. As if they even knew what that really entailed."
There was a suddenly shift in Naoto's expression, as he recalled that day and the group of students flocking around Nagatoro. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Idiots."
Naoto didn't start that thought off with the intent to grow irritated, but that's certainly where he ended up. He sighed out loud and walked past the door and Gamo, who was watching him with curiosity. It seemed like she wasn't the only one who was left with a sour taste from the memories of that day. Was Naoto jealous due to other people being physical close to Hayase at the time? Or did he consider their desire for something that almost ruined him to be truly disturbing? Gamo knew which one she'd prefer, but she wasn't going to ask him directly.
The two of them continued their stroll through the building in silence, with Gamo keeping her eyes on Naoto at all times, worried about him stewing in negative emotions. She wasn't quite sure why it was he wanted to come here in the first place. Perhaps it was simply to reminisce with her, but that was doubtful. He must have had some sort of thought in mind, a way to help him move forward and come to a decision regarding their difficult situation. But how would this help?
Eventually, they approached the room Naoto had been dreading.
The beige, dull looking sliding door was barely hanging on its hinges, looking like it was ready to fall apart at any moment. There were scratches on it that hadn't been there the last time Naoto had seen it. He wondered if other students had continued the art club, or if it was now being used for an entirely different purpose. He placed his hands on the door and took a deep breath, as if to steel himself.
Gamo placed her hand next to his, playfully bumping her shoulder against his. She looked over to Naoto with a big, reassuring smile.
The young man smiled back, taking courage from her display of support.
With a quick, determined motion, Naoto slid the door open. It hit the end of its rail with a loud clanging noise, startling the man. More over, his eyes widened in shock, at the sight of three people sitting on chairs, around a handful of canvases. They all looked like deer in headlights, not moving a muscle.
"H-H-Hi?" a young blonde boy stammered, paint dropping onto him from the brush he was holding in his jittery hand.
"Who in the world are you!?" a much fiercer girl demanded to know, hopping off her stool to take a step toward Naoto.
The third person, a far more timid looking girl, quickly jumped from her seat to hide behind the aggressive one.
Naoto raised his hands in a defensive move, feeling awful about barging into the place like this.
"I-I am sorry!" he apologized quickly, bowing once for emphasis. "I didn't know this room was in use."
The short-tempered girl, with her short, dark brown hair, stared at Naoto incredulously.
"Of course you don't!" she barked, her red eyes burning brightly. "You don't look like you even belong in this school! Who are you!? I am going to call the police on you!"
"Woah, easy girl," Gamo said with a chuckle as she stepped past Naoto into the room. "We were students at this school. We're just here to check out the old art club room."
Naoto let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, upset that he still found himself flinching in such moments. All people had to do to throw him off his game was to confidently and rudely confront him.
"You used to be part of the art club?" the girl asked unconvinced, her eyebrow raised.
"Not me," Gamo admitted, while pointing at Naoto. "But he was. In fact, he's basically the only reason the club is still going."
Naoto looked at Gamo, his mouth slightly agape. That was giving him way too much credit. But, apparently, that changed the girls tune.
"W-Wait!" she shouted, suddenly excited. "A-Are you- Are you Hachiouji-senpai!?"
Naoto and Gamo both stared at each other in confusion, before they turned their gaze back to the girl.
"Uhm," Naoto began, blinking rapidly. "T-That would be me, I guess?"
"Oh my god!" the girl exclaimed as she grabbed a pen and paper and ran up to him. "I need a signature!"
Gamo was wondering for a moment if this was real life, before a big grin appeared on her face.
"Seems like you're reputation precedes you Paisen," she said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, I am pretty confused," Naoto assured her as he took the pen and paper from the girl. "How do you know me?"
"Sunomiya-senpai told us all about you!" the girl explained, a big grin on her face. "The artist who defied the previous club president!"
The boy and the timid girl also approached them, a little bit more hesitantly than the bundle of energy. They seemed to be rather intrigued now by the man that so suddenly intruded upon them.
"Wait," Naoto looked at all three of them in turn, a little exasperated by the situation. "Hana told you about me?"
The quick girl nodded her head up and down fast enough that it made Naoto's own spin. "Yeah! She told us all about how amazing of an artist you are! You kept this club together and fended off fiendish invasions, trying to dirty the purity of our artistic pursuit!"
Naoto shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yup. That sounds like Hana."
Gamo scoffed at that. "Fiendish invasions? That'd be me and the gang, yeah?"
The three students gasped in shock.
"You're one of the demons!?" the girl asked worried, taking a step back.
'That's right!" Gamo confirmed with a boisterous demeanor. "I am a real terror!"
It was clear at this point that Gamo was having fun with the situation they had found themselves in, while Naoto was simply baffled by the idea that Hana was talking of him as some legendary figure, when he was barely able to draw coherently anymore.
The younger boy looked between the girl and Gamo a couple of times before pulling on the girl's sleeve to get her attention.
"W-We should probably give them some privacy in the room for a bit."
The girl quickly turned to look at him perplexed.
"That'd be kind of you," Naoto said with a wry smile on his lips. "And, once again, I apologize for interrupting so rudely."
"It's okay.." the timid girl spoke for the first time.
"Whatever," the fiercer one added as she signaled the other two to follow her out of the room. She stopped and turned inside the door frame with a goofy grin.
"Don't take too much time! And I need that signature!"
With that, she took off, her footsteps echoing through the hallway. Gamo walked up to the door and quietly shut it again, leaving her and Naoto alone in the room. The redhead leaned against the door and smirked.
"Famous Hachiouji-senpai," she snorted, her eyes narrowing like she was zeroing in on her prey. "His adoring fans wanting autographs, would you look at that."
"Oh, shut up," Naoto tried to shut her down, but she crept toward him, her grin never ceasing.
"What's the problem?" she asked, amused by his sudden shy behavior. "You got your own band, but these three small fries get you all flustered?"
The fiery redhead wrapped her arms around his neck and cupped his face in her hand. "What's up with that?"
There was a moment of hesitation, a heavy silence, where Naoto seemed to really consider what it was that irked him in the moment. A heavy exhale of breath followed.
"I am just not a good artist anymore," Naoto quietly stated. "This idea that Hana is spreading, wrongfully, doesn't seem right to me. I am no one special. I didn't do anything on my own. It was you guys that managed to drum up attention to my art exhibit in the first place back then. And essentially, it was a technicality that won us that competition, thanks to the presidents self portrait. I- I don't think my art would have ever done that by itself. I don't think I was ever that good to begin with. And I am certainly worse now. This praise doesn't belong to me. It's some false idea Hana has, and I can't stand it. I feel like she loves an idea that isn't me."
Gamo's face screwed up as she retracted her arms and let them fall to her side.
"Stop bullshitting me," she said quietly.
Naoto turned to her, confusion written on his face. "What do y-"
"You're a fantastic artist Naoto!" Gamo said, cutting him off entirely. "The way you drew Hayacchi was amazing. She always looked wonderful in every piece you drew of her. Your still life may not have been exciting, but it definitely showed your passion."
"H-How would you even know?" Naoto pushed back, feeling unnaturally defensive. He felt offended that Gamo would even attempt to subvert his own, low opinion of himself. "You never even seen most of my stu-"
"I always paid attention!" Gamo countered; her gaze fierce. "You think Yoshi, Sakura and I never watched you draw? Never looked at the stuff you created? Please. We were always impressed by you."
Naoto shrunk into himself a little at that information, completely unaware that anyone else was paying attention to his work. Hana cared, of course. She was Hana. And Nagatoro had to, because she was the subject of a lot of his work. But outside of that? He would have never assumed anyone would care.
"I know what you're thinking," Gamo said, ripping him out of his mind. "And it's stupid. Of course we were watching. You think we spent almost every day in that room with you and never took an interest in your hobby, your passion? Give us a break man. I know we were miserable rats, but we still cared for you."
Naoto sighed and turned toward the window, looking out at the grey sky.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I guess, I was really oblivious."
"You always are," Gamo said with a sigh as she sat down on the stool the loud-mouthed girl had been sitting on. "It's cute, sometimes."
"If you say so," Naoto responded as he stepped up to the various art supplies scattered across the desks placed against the wall. They seemed well maintained and used, giving the impression that those that now utilized the art club room genuinely cared about the craft. It brought a small smile to his face.
"Sorry," Gamo suddenly said, taken him off guard.
"What for?" Naoto wanted to know, turning toward her.
The redhead looked at her hands, clasped together in her lap. "For how we used to treat you. Especially in here, where you were supposed to feel safe."
"It's alright," Naoto said, turning back to look out the window. "I mean, it wasn't at first. I was absolutely terrified of you guys."
Gamo cringed at that remark. "Yeah.. Fair."
"But," Naoto continued, a kind tone to his voice. "The more you swarmed me, the more time I spent around all of you, the more I realized we were all kind of the same. I mean, you guys were just as bad as expressing yourself as I was, just in a different way. Whenever I came across Yoshi outside of school, she was so quiet and almost without a spark. But then when she was around you, it felt like you two complemented each other so well. You always helped reign Hayase in, but then I could tell you were also not used to dealing with someone like me."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Gamo wondered aloud, leaning back in her seat.
Naoto chuckled to himself. "It felt like everything you did around me was unnatural, even to you. Like you were trying to be some fake version of yourself. It took a long time for me to get a good grasp on who you really were beneath it. Miss 'Bean Bun'."
"Oh, give me a break," Gamo said with an embarrassed laugh, covering her eyes in shame. "Like, can we just forget about that?"
"You just brought it up yourself!" Naoto scoffed, spinning around to stare at Gamo with an irritated expression. "You can't use it against me, then ask for a cease fire when I bring it back."
"I can, and I will," she corrected, giggling softly. "Plus, that was such a mild thing, compared to all the stuff that went down between you and Hayase. I am actually-"
Gamo cut herself off and lowered her head, groaning loudly. She really wished she hadn't let her mind even wander to those images it had found itself amongst now. An unwelcoming heat rose up within her.
"What?" Naoto asked, concerned about her behavior.
"I am jealous!" she yelled, throwing her arms up in the air. "She got to sleep in here while you were drawing. She got to get close to you. She tried to bite you once, she said! She touched you, constantly! She told us how she kissed your cheek! Like- I wanted to do all that."
Gamo messed up her own hair and got up off the seat. "And I can't ever take those things away from her. She was the first."
"Well," Naoto said, a deep blush appearing on his face. "If it helps you, earlier this morning was the closest anyone had gotten to me physically."
Gamo looked over to him, a strange expression on her face, with her eyebrows raised. "N-Naoto, what are-"
The young artist froze. It felt as if someone had suddenly struck him with a brick from behind. There was a pulsating pain, radiating out from his forehead. His vision lost focus, colors dulling around him every so slightly.
Naoto quickly realized that what he had just said was essentially a lie, carefully crafted by his brain, to try and forget what had happened. The images of that day wormed their way back into his mind. Hayase's hands everywhere he didn't want them to be. Her face too close, too warm. The giggling, the verbal abuse, meant to deflect just how embarrassed and out of control she had been. The way she cooed and urged him to let himself go. Most shameful of all, how his body betrayed his mind and followed her command.
His face fell for a moment, something behind his eyes shattering, before he put on a gross caricature of a smile, in a fruitless attempt to ease Gamo's worries.
"F-Forget about it," he said quickly as he turned away from her, visibly shaking from head to toe.
Gamo quickly walked over to his side, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Naoto, it's okay. It'll be okay."
"No, don't worry about it," he tried to assuage her again, to no avail. "J-Just a slip of the tongue, I didn't mean- I didn't mean to lie, I-"
"Hey," Gamo tried to snap him out of it. "You didn't lie. That doesn't count. It's not the same. You didn't want that."
Naoto shook his head, holding back a well of emotions. "No. I didn't."
Gamo's heart broke, the tiny voice coming from Naoto speaking of the fear and pain he still experienced when really confronted with what happened to him. How he managed to suppress it long enough to exist, day in and day out, was a mystery to her. Gamo felt like she would not able to manage it herself, and she considered Naoto an incredibly strong person, just knowing the pain he was keeping inside.
"It's so stupid," Naoto spoke up, his wavering voice indicating how he was clearly struggling to keep in the pain. "I am so stupid."
"No, you're not," Gamo said as she cupped his face to make him look at her. "Don't ever blame yourself for what she did."
"That's not it," he said, his eyes lowering, trying to avoid Gamo's gaze. "Despite everything shitty she's done, despite all the pain she's caused me, I still care. I still want her to be happy. And if- I can't bring myself to break her heart like that. I am such a moron."
Naoto suddenly fell to his knees, Gamo quickly following him, to assure he was okay. She wrapped her arms around him and began gently rubbing his back.
"It's okay Naoto," she said, trying to bite her tongue. Moments like this showed her how awful all of their relationships to one another were.
"It's not okay," he responded, looking at his own hands. "I can't do this. I can't keep hurting people. I- I don't know what to do Maki."
"Why did you want to come here?" Gamo quickly asked, trying to get control back of the situation. "What is it you hoped to achieve?"
Naoto looked around the room, his gaze lingering momentarily on every object he once deemed precious and vital to his artistic endeavors. In a moment, he found himself reliving every single moment he had spent within these four walls, all at once. Every word, every tear, every laugh, every single instance of time, whether good or bad, all flooded his mind. There was this dream, this silly and naïve fantasy, that by coming here maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to overcome these terrible memories of that past. Perhaps, if he could only fight back against the torrent of invasive self deprecation and verbal assaults, maybe he could find himself coming out on top. And, if this was at all possible, and he were to triumph over these specters of the past, returning to torment him once more, perhaps he could be free of the culprit as well.
But Naoto had found himself lacking. The courage and mental fortitude required for such a bold, pain inflicting facing of ones inner most pain, was not something that he currently possessed. And thus, the voices rose once again, drilling it furiously into him, just how worthless and insignificant he was. How he was truly the lucky one to have Nagatoro, hell, any woman look at him and that he should see what she had done to him as a kindness. He envisioned his band turning from him, unable to function if his pain were to ever cease, zapping him of the fuel for his art and songs. They relied on him to use this pain he experienced, to turn the unending agony into something they could utilize.
Nagatoro had shown that she was more than willing to take what she desired, and what she desired was him. So why deny her? Why fight back against what wouldn't be all too bad at the end of the day? Was he truly so ungrateful? Truly such a spineless coward to let a catch like her get away, because she was a tad bit rough with him?
Naoto imagined his therapist laughing at him, baffled by the fact that he had yet to move on past these events. Astounded by how one man could contain such stupidity, as to yet hold onto the idea that a relationship like this would ever flourish and lead to anything but ruin.
The young man clutched onto Gamo, who in turn only deepened the embrace and kissed the top of his head.
"M-Maki," he whispered weakly, as Gamo perked up somewhat next to him.
She brushed his hair out of his face, quietly waiting for him to continue his thought.
Naoto lifted his head, watching Gamo's expression through moistened eyes. "Please, help me..."
Gamo felt a rush of adrenaline flood her body. All at once, she felt herself burning up, while her extremities were freezing. The redhead had this violent urge to find Nagatoro at this very moment and beat her into the ground. All she wanted to do was keep Naoto safe. Nothing else mattered. But she was also aware that it wasn't her choice to make. Naoto was an adult. She couldn't force him to cut Nagatoro out of his life, even though that was quite clearly the only right move to be making.
Naoto had to come to that conclusion on his own, or the pain would never truly subside. All she could do was stay by his side and protect him from the worst of it. Comfort him when the pain became too much and overbearing. There was this sense of dread within her, that this would eventually eat him up inside, even kill him, as it almost already had, were she to leave his side. Gamo knew this wasn't good either, for neither of them. But there was nothing that would tear her from Naoto. She'd be by his side, until the very end.