Fic for reddorozette (5/5)
Title: Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow {5/5}
Written for: reddorozette
Pairing: pikame (& a bit of ryokame)
Words: 36 427
Rating: PG-15? (somewhere between PG-13 and R)
Notes: thank you very much to my beta!!!!! <3333
Summary: From the first moment that he met Kamenashi Kazuya, Yamashita Tomohisa knew, just knew, that somehow, he had done something horrible to the younger boy. Is it possible to hate someone in one life, but love them in the next? In one life, Yamashita Tomohisa murdered Kamenashi Kazuya but in this life, he's in love with him...
--
Tomohisa could hear laughter coming from the house as he crept alongside its walls, carefully avoiding the windows that revealed light inside. A twig crunched under his foot, but he ignored it when the sound of voices and laughter didn't stop. He continued along until he found the side door, the servant's door, though it was unlikely that there were servants here right now. If there were, there wouldn't be many - maybe one. But he doubted there were any at all.
It had indeed taken him years to find his way back.
He had managed to escape the house he had been confined in, despite the fact that he knew that it was likely that one or two people in the nearby village - the only way to get out of the area - were his father’s servants meant to keep him there. The problem with that was that he had no idea who they were, and he had no doubt they were more loyal to his father than to Tomohisa, who had never treated the commoner servants well while he had been at the estate.
One night, though, he had managed to escape. He hadn’t been sure which way to head after that, but he had taken a risk and simply gone north. It was three months of travelling later that Tomohisa finally came upon a small village, and it was to his irritation that he realized that he was supposed to have gone the other way if he had wanted to get back to his father’s realm.
His father had literally dropped him off at the very other side of the country.
Still, Tomohisa was determined. He wouldn’t give up.
He had spent nearly two years plotting a way to escape; it had been horrible, trapped in that house and village. He was treated like he wasn’t even important. Everyone else was either a commoner or of gentry class, and they treated him with either indifference, if they had no idea who he was, or disdain, if they knew that he had been exiled and that meant, to them, that he didn’t even matter.
Which was torture to Tomohisa.
He had had to get out of there, no, he had needed to get out of there. He was sure that if he stayed any longer, he might’ve gone insane and jumped off a cliff.
And he knew what he needed to do the moment he left.
He needed to find his way back to his father’s realm, and find the people who did this to him. He would finally know how it felt to be better than Ryo, better than Kazuya, superior to both of them. Both of his father’s favourites. And he would make sure that his father knew it when they admitted defeat to him. He would destroy them, like he had wanted to do all those years ago.
The servant’s door on the side of the house swung open inside, almost like an ominous welcome to him.
And like another welcome to him, a young servant girl stared in surprise and trepidation at him. Tomohisa moved quickly, gripping her thin arm so tightly that if he moved it a little, he could probably break it, “Get in the cupboard.” He hissed, “If you know what’s good for you.”
The girl was young and small enough to fit in there, and she looked at him with fear as he closed the door. He found a plank of wood easily enough, in a pile in the corner, and placed it so that she couldn’t open the door unless she broke through it.
Tomohisa was as silent as he could as he crept toward the other side of the house, where all the lights and voices were coming from.
It was when he was close to the room, only a short hallway away, that he swiped at a figurine on the table, causing it to crash loudly on the ground with a sound that reverberated through the entire area and caused the voices down the hall to stop.
Then, he could hear it.
“I’ll go check.”
“It’s probably just the serving girl. She’s back early. Don’t make her cry again, Ryo,” was said in a lightly humoured voice.
“I didn’t know she would be so easily scared,” Ryo’s voice said defensively. The sound of laughter met Tomohisa’s ears and he gritted his teeth even as he listened to the sound of a door opening, and then the sound of footsteps approaching.
They were getting closer…
And closer…
And just a little more now…
Ryo didn’t have time to do anything but look shocked when Tomohisa slammed one of the plank of woods he had found in the kitchen into his gut, cutting off any attempts for Ryo to yell, and then as he fell forward, he hit Ryo across the back of his head, before the older man could even try to react.
Tomohisa stepped on Ryo’s hand even as he swept by the man’s fallen form. His half brother was trying to move, to get up, despite the probably ever growing darkness in his vision.
“I’m going to deal with that thorn in my side first,” Tomohisa hissed, “Maybe now you’ll be able to feel how I felt when you took everything from me when you came back.”
Ryo was angry, he could tell, but Tomohisa also knew that not even Ryo could stay conscious after such a blow to the head. Just in case though, he lifted his blunt weapon of choice and hit Ryo across the head again. Ryo’s body went limp.
Tomohisa regarded Ryo with a superior feeling of triumph. Finally. For once, he had beat Ryo. It was a shallow victory, he knew, but it felt good nonetheless. He knelt down and fingered the yukata that Ryo was wearing, feeling disgusted. Of course Ryo would be wearing expensive clothes while he had been suffering just trying to get back.
Anger coursing through him, he made his way down the hallway, making sure to keep his footsteps calm and non-threatening. He opened the door.
“Please tell me you didn’t make her cry -” Kazuya’s smile, as he turned, dropped immediately, giving way to an expression of shock, “What are you doing here?! Where’s Ryo?”
Tomohisa moved forward, a dark smile on his face. Kazuya was stubborn and stood his ground though, not moving; Tomohisa shifted so that the knife he had tied around his waist showed, “I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.” He snarled, “And getting rid of an annoying little twit that ruined everything for me.”
“You ruined things for yourself,” Kazuya retorted, taking a step backward upon seeing the glint of the knife.
Tomohisa grabbed Kazuya by the front of his yukata, a dark smirk on his lips, “I see. This is why you were here - having a little honeymoon with my brother, Kazuya?” he drawled, a scowl crossing his face, “Enjoying a life of luxury when I’ve been barely surviving trying to find my way back.”
Kazuya matched his expression with ease, a dark look of hatred on his face, “You brought it onto yourself. You would have had a good life if you hadn’t been so obsessed with taking everything from your brother.”
“It was supposed to be mine!” Tomohisa hissed.
“It was always Ryo’s.”
Tomohisa saw red and swung at Kazuya; the younger man ducked, and while he was underneath Tomohisa’s arm, pushed him roughly, sending Tomohisa tumbling to the floor with a crash. Kazuya ran to the door, already out of it by the time Tomohisa got up to chase after him.
“Ryo!” he could hear the younger man calling. Tomohisa caught up to Kazuya as he was leaning over Ryo’s prone form, shaking his lover.
“What did you do to him?!” Kazuya snarled angrily, fearfully.
Tomohisa smirked, not admitting to anything.
“You attacked your brother, and for what?!” Kazuya hissed, “You’re the worst. No wonder your father refused to give anything to you - no wonder he sent you away. I wouldn’t want anything to do with you if I were him!”
Tomohisa was incensed and getting angrier; he lunged at Kazuya, wrapping his hands around the younger man’s throat, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing! You helped steal what was mine! It was supposed to be mine!”
Kazuya’s eyes were wide open in shock at the situation, struggling to remove Tomohisa’s hands. Tomohisa only put more pressure in his fingers though, and took pleasure in the sheer panic that was taking over Kazuya’s face.
He released his fingers for a moment, “Anything left to say?” he sneered.
“You’re too late,” Kazuya choked out, “You’ll never get what you want.”
“I will,” Tomohisa hissed, “I heard. After two miscarriages, it was a girl that Ryo’s consort gave birth to. I have more of a claim than she ever will!”
Kazuya merely smirked at him, angering Tomohisa even more; just as he was tightening his hold around Kamenashi’s throat again, intent on choking the breath out of him, Tomohisa felt movement-
A flash of pain seared across his upper body. He howled in pain and lifted his fingers for a moment, holding his hands to the blood that was suddenly swelling up to the surface. Kazuya lifted his hand again; in it was the knife that Tomohisa had kept at his waist, and he moved to attack Tomohisa again -
Tomohisa avoided the hit, putting all his strength in grabbing Kazuya’s arm and twisting it, twisting until the younger man hissed in pain and dropped the knife, and he struggled against Tomohisa. Somehow, the knife clattered across the room.
“How would my father feel about you trying to kill his son?” he scolded tauntingly.
Kazuya tried to push Tomohisa off but the older man was heavier than Kazuya, and was determinedly putting all his weight on Kazuya.
“He probably won’t even cry for you,” Kazuya hissed out, lashing out, “You’re despicable. But you won’t win, Tomohisa. I know you won’t - in the end, you’ll lose.”
“No, no!” Tomohisa roared in anger, “I’m winning. I’ve won! Why can’t you admit defeat to me?!”
“Because,” Kazuya said, moving his arm with difficulty, and he purposely pressed his hand against Tomohisa’s wound, “No matter what happens, I win. Ryo wins. You will never win. You’re too late to win.”
The wound was bleeding profusely, but Kazuya didn’t seem to care; he dug his nails into the skin near the wound, dragging them across the wound, eliciting a roar of pain from Tomohisa. Then, in that moment, with a show of force that Tomohisa hadn’t expected at all, he managed to throw the older man off of him and stood up as quickly as possible, running to get the knife.
Tomohisa growled, following and trying to stop him. Kazuya kicked him in the knee and the damage was done; Tomohisa recoiled, giving Kazuya enough time to get to the knife. His fingers closed around the hilt just as Tomohisa grabbed onto his leg and twisted, pulling the younger man to him.
Kazuya struggled to try to get at Tomohisa with the knife, but since he was being jolted forward in an erratic manner, he couldn’t do much damage. Tomohisa still winced as the knife made a slash on his cheek though, and he growled out in pain. He gave Kazuya’s leg a merciless twist and jerk and the younger man gasped out in pain, dropping his weapon, as a sickening crack echoed through the room, and Kazuya’s leg was left twisted in a brutal way.
Tomohisa, out of breath from the struggle, picked up the knife before Kazuya could recover from the pain, and without stopping to think, his hand went down. There was a stomach turning sound of metal piercing flesh. Tomohisa pulled the knife back out, the metal covered with blood, before throwing it aside for the moment.
“I got you,” he crooned victoriously even as he gazed at the blood beginning to stain the yukata of the man he had grown to hate almost as much as his brother, “I win.”
“No, you don’t,” Kazuya was struggling to speak, but he managed to do it anyways, “I told you. You’ll never win. You are -”
What he was, Tomohisa never got to find out, because there was a jolt of pain that suddenly went through his upper body. He whirled around, Kazuya forgotten for a moment. He only registered Ryo’s furious eyes and a raised fist before he heard a familiar, sickening noise once he moved forward. It took a moment for the pain to register in his mind, but by then, Tomohisa had collapsed to the ground, head hitting the floorboards. His eyes went from Ryo standing over him to the blood-covered knife in his brother’s hand, and then to the triumphant and grief-stricken expression.
“No…”
Ryo didn’t even bother him with a look, just kicked him out of the way as he went to Kazuya as quickly as possible; the younger man was probably barely hanging on, judging by the struggling breaths that filled the room.
“R - Ryo…”
“Hold on,” he heard Ryo say desperately. He moved his head, glancing over; Ryo was trying to stop the bleeding, but it was going to be too late.
“Y - you can’t let him g - get away,” Kazuya was breathing out, “The - he’ll find t -them. H - He’ll find a - a way…”
“They’re safe with my father, don’t talk, Kazuya,” Ryo sounded on the verge of breaking down, his hands covered with Kazuya’s blood as he tried to put a stop to the bleeding, “You - you’ll be okay. I just have to stop the bleeding. We’ll - we’ll get you to town, to a doctor, to…I can - ” He said desperately, trying to lift Kazuya up.
The younger man let out a sharp gasp though at the movement and Ryo quickly stopped. He was looking lost and heartbroken at the same time, obviously unsure of what to do. Tomohisa tried to listen, despite the pain spreading through him. His fingers reached out for the knife that had been dropped many times already tonight. He…
He could still win.
He drew up on all the hatred and anger that had gotten him this far, fingers feeling for the familiar hilt of the knife…
“H - he’s not going to stop at us. H - he thinks h - he died. But…I - if he g - gets to your f - father’s…h - he’ll find them.”
“He’s not going anywhere. But you have to, we have to - we can still get help for you!”
Tomohisa felt victory fill him as his fingers felt the blood soaked metal of the knife. He ran his fingers along the blade until it reached the hilt. His breathing became erratic from the victory that was so close; he put an arm around himself, trying to keep from worsening the wound as he sat up.
Ryo didn’t notice. Kazuya probably couldn’t see much else but darkness and Ryo anymore.
“P - promise me…” Kazuya was telling Ryo.
Ryo looked heartbroken, as he whispered, “I promise. I lo - don’t. Don’t, Kazuya…”
Kazuya gave him a shaky attempt at a smile - it wasn’t much of one - and with difficulty, reached out for Ryo’s hand, desperately running his fingers along Ryo’s skin until he could fold his fingers with Ryo’s blood-drenched ones. A quiet whisper of something meant only for Ryo’s ears left him with the same last breath that left his body.
Tomohisa knew what it was though; he had been close enough to hear it.
I love you too, he had heard in response to Ryo trying to say the same thing, but failing to because of his grief. If Tomohisa had been anyone else, his heart might have hurt from the scene he had just witnessed, especially as Ryo bent his head, and wet droplets made their way onto the floorboards below him.
But he wasn’t. He was determined, and he was going to finish this.
Half standing, Tomohisa lunged forward, ignoring the sharp pain of his wound, and the knife wedged itself deep in Ryo’s back. It wasn’t quite what Tomohisa had been aiming for, but it would do the job.
Ryo let out a guttural sound of surprise; there was a moment of silence before Ryo turned to Tomohisa, pain, grief and betrayal evident in his eyes. He swayed on his feet for a moment, his dark eyes glaring daggers at Tomohisa. With a hiss, he reached back, his eyes showing fiery determination, and in a show that shocked even Tomohisa, he somehow managed to get the knife out of his back, though dragging the blade down across previously unbroken skin as he went.
Blood spurted from the wound, but Ryo still refused to go down. He let out another hiss and, with difficultly and purely on strength of will alone, those dark eyes managed to meet Tomohisa’s in a deathly glare that would stay with Tomohisa for a long time.
“I promised I’d stop you,” he whispered; it was obviously difficult for him to even talk, and his eyes were losing their light. Tomohisa delighted in that, so sure of his victory and Ryo’s inability to stop him that he failed to notice that Ryo’s arm was moving toward him. He gasped out in shock as, for the second time, the knife embedded itself into his body.
Ryo collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as he stared at Tomohisa.
Tomohisa struggled to stay up, “No. NO. I’m supposed to win.”
“Y - you won’t,” Ryo said with finality, using all of his strength to say this, “F - father knew you’d e - escape e - eventually. A - and come b - back. T - the l - latest pregnancy…a b - boy. O - only the first m - miscarriage was real.”
Tomohisa felt horror fill him, anger, and every negative emotion even as he finally fell, darkness beginning to creep into the corners of his vision. Breathing was difficult; coupled with this shock, breathing was near impossible. Pain, pain, it was all in him like a disease…
“I - I have a d - daughter and a s - son.” Ryo said with his last words, “I - I’ve killed you to protect t - them. I - I couldn’t h - help Kazuya, but…y - you’re not going n - near our c - children.”
And he went completely limp, completely silent, darkness forcing out the already dimming light in his eyes.
Tomohisa struggled, he tried, but in the end, he couldn’t fight the same darkness that was threatening him. Pain was the last thing he would ever feel.
* * *
Yamapi woke up in a fit, barely managing to stifle the scream that wanted to escape. His cheeks were wet with tears and his heart was breaking. He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking as he hid under his covers, trying to keep quiet, trying to keep Kamenashi from hearing. He didn’t know if he could see Kamenashi right now, not with what he had just seen - not with what he had…done. A hand over his mouth, he bolted for the bathroom, not bothering to shrug his covers off.
He leaned over the sink and shakily splashed cold water onto his face.
That hadn’t happened, right? He looked into his own wide and fearful eyes in the mirror. That hadn’t really happened, right?
Right?
He shook as he picked up and wrapped the covers around himself again, needing to find out if - if Kamenashi was alright. Maybe it would help stop the shaking if he saw that Kamenashi was alright? Maybe…but he doubted it. The tears wouldn’t stop coming either; even as he stood in Kamenashi’s doorway and stared in relief at the sleeping form of Kamenashi, he couldn’t stop these reactions. He couldn’t even hide them.
They were paralyzing him.
He had thought they were over, that these dreams would end and that the worse was over. It had been days since he had had a dream. There had been a few happy, blissful days of exploring his newly established relationship with Kamneashi…
But…
What he saw was so horrible; what he felt had been horrible and -
What he had done.
Yamapi suddenly realized something, taking a step back away from Kamenashi’s room in the shock of it all.
Oh my god. He knows.
Dark, suspicious eyes danced in Yamapi’s memory, coupled with accusatory words, and -
“And then he betrayed me in the worst way possible.”
Nishikido Ryo knew. Of course, Yamapi had already suspected that he knew what Yamapi saw in his dreams, knew that Yamapi had recognized him before, but Yamapi had never realized, until now, that perhaps Nishikido Ryo knew everything that he had done.
Those suspicious looks, those well-hidden accusations…
Of course.
With what he had just seen, it made sense for him to be wary of Yamapi, especially when concerning Kamenashi. It was…
Yamapi rushed to the bathroom again, feeling a vile taste in the back of his throat. A few moment of dry retching later, Yamapi was no closer to calming down. His hands shook, his shoulders shook, and he couldn’t stop that ice cold feeling from spreading all over.
And he couldn’t go to Kamenashi about this, he couldn’t.
This was too horrible, too terrifying and -
Yamapi shuddered as he came back out. He didn’t even want to think about it, and he couldn’t even imagine trying to explain it.
I killed you in my dreams. How do I explain that?!
He stopped in his tracks. Kamenashi was standing there in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and looking like he had just forced himself out of bed.
“Are you okay?” Kamenashi asked drowsily, looking extremely out of it. Considering it was just past four in the morning, Yamapi wasn’t entirely surprised.
“I’m -” Yamapi stopped himself before he could lie again. He merely fell silent, shuddering.
Kamenashi looked at him in concern, before grabbing Yamapi by his wrist and pulling him toward the younger man’s room. Yamapi wanted to protest, that he wanted to go back to his own room, but he didn’t really have the heart to. He didn’t really want to be in his room alone right now anyway; he didn’t want to be trapped in his own thoughts, with his own fears…not when he could try to forget it all with Kamenashi’s presence.
He wanted to forget the confusion, the hurt, the pain…
“One day, these nightmares of yours will stop,” Kamenashi was saying quietly to him. Since Yamapi had finally found the resolve and courage to move things forward with Kamenashi, the younger man had been more forward with his comfort. He was obviously frustrated about not being of any help, and the way he seemed to resolve this helplessness was to make sure that Yamapi wasn’t alone at all.
The first time he had been dragged into Kamenashi’s room after a nightmare, Yamapi had been bewildered, until he realized that Kamenashi meant for him to have somebody nearby, somebody to be with him so that he wasn’t left alone with the monsters that haunted his dreams.
Yamapi wished there was an easy way to admit that the only monster that haunted his dreams was himself.
Kamenashi made some space for him in his bed, pushing the older man so that he fell onto the soft mattress. Then, suddenly, with a brush of movement, Kamenashi was on the other side of him, giving him a sleepy kiss, before the younger man pinned Yamapi down onto the mattress with one hand. It was an odd feeling, considering that right now, Yamapi remembered that in his dreams, it had been the opposite - in his dreams, his hatred had made him almost inhumanly strong, while here, he was sure that even if he tried to, Kamenashi wouldn’t be thrown off.
“This is the only way I know how to help you...” Kamenashi admitted in a tired tone. Yamapi looked at him, and he could see that Kamenashi was looking at him with concern. He was also looking helpless, like -
Like how, in his dream, for one minute, the Kamenashi of his dreams looked helpless as he realized what Yamapi had done to the Nishikido of his dreams -
He bit back a cross between a sob and a scream.
Yamapi didn’t care how it looked, or how weak he might have seemed; right now, being next to Kamenashi was both blissful and painful. He buried his face into Kamenashi’s shoulder, even as the younger man absently stroked his face with his free hand.
It gave Yamapi a brief reprise from the pain that ached in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this, to not have to think about what he had just seen and what it meant.
It was only after that hand fell limp, Kamenashi having fallen asleep, that Yamapi couldn’t fool himself anymore and he moved. He sat up, hugging his legs to himself, and staring at Kamenashi.
It was a face he could never forget.
He had liked Kamenashi for so long, afraid to admit it for so long, because he knew - he knew that something like this would happen.
He knew that there would be something terrible looming in the future for him if he admitted his feelings, if he got close to Kamenashi…
What was he supposed to do?
How was he supposed to face Kamenashi, knowing what he had done? How was he supposed to be in a relationship with Kamenashi?
Yamapi spotted Kamenashi’s phone on the dresser; he hesitated only a moment before grabbing it. As quietly as possible, he looked through the younger man’s contact list, a wild idea coming to him, one that he wasn’t sure was too wise but he had nowhere else to turn to.
Nishikido Ryo.
He memorized the phone number before closing the phone. Then, he slipped back down into Kamenashi’s bed, taking comfort in what time he had left in Kamenashi’s arms; it probably wouldn’t last for much longer, he told himself. He let out a muffled cry. Not when Kamenashi eventually found out what he now knew.
He froze.
A hand had moved to pat his face.
He looked at Kamenashi; the younger man was still deep asleep. The hand moved again, and in a surprising show of strength, Yamapi found himself yanked back down onto the bed. Yamapi let out what seemed to be a laugh and a sob.
How was he supposed to go back to being alone?
Kamenashi’s feelings for him, Kamenashi, had made him feel not alone, not odd, and not undeserving of people’s love.
How was he supposed to go back to being alone, feeling alone, and wishing that he wasn’t alone?
How do I do this?
* * *
In the morning, after Kamenashi had left for classes, and after Yamapi couldn’t find an excuse to stall any longer, Yamapi went back to his room. He turned on his phone to send a text.
I need to talk to you.
A moment later, Who the hell is this?
Yamapi bit his lip; if he did this now, there was no turning back…
But he…he had to do this.
Kamenashi’s roommate. I remember everything.
The reply was almost immediate.
It included an address and a time, as well as short message.
It’s about time you did.
* * *
Yamapi was less of a wreck by the time he got to Nishikido’s place. The older man lived off campus, so Yamapi had needed to take a bus trip to get there. It was a relief to have that time though; Yamapi had been so preoccupied with figuring out where to get off and making sure he was on the right bus, that he was distracted from his thoughts for a little while. As he made his way up to the apartment where Nishikido lived though, the shakiness and the sheer heartbreak came back. He felt like a wreck again by the time he rang the doorbell.
Nishikido opened the door a moment later, and this time, he didn’t attempt to hide any of the emotions in those dark eyes.
Those dark eyes that became truly dark in Yamapi’s dream -
Yamapi bit back a gasp and a shudder. If Nishikido noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept on surveying him. Yamapi couldn’t help but notice that Nishikido looked at him in a similar manner as the one in his dream often did - there was an underlying show of concern, but covering that, out of necessity, had been born the need to be wary of Yamapi.
Yamapi couldn’t blame Nishikido for being suspicious and wary.
“So you remember.” Nishikido said flatly, looking away. He moved to the side to let Yamapi in, and closed the door behind him. Yamapi merely nodded shortly as he followed Nishikido further into the apartment to a sitting room. It looked like a few people lived here, besides Nishikido.
“The other tenants are out,” Nishikido explained shortly.
Yamapi nodded, weakly, “Alright.”
“I have to say, you don’t look like you remember. What is it that you remember?” Nishikido asked after a long moment as he sat down on the couch.
Yamapi hesitantly followed, “I remember…” he bit his lip, trying to figure out the best way to say this. Besides, what if he was wrong? What if Nishikido thought he meant something else?
“I’m not going to think you’re crazy.” Nishikido retorted, “I just want to hear you say it so that you don’t think I’m crazy.”
Yamapi bit back an ironic laugh at the situation, “I remember that I was an evil bastard who did terrible things to you and someone who looked like Kamenashi.” He said bluntly.
Nishikido stared at him, and Yamapi was beginning to think he had made a mistake, and he kept going, “I had recognized you that day, but I thought I was just crazy, because I had no idea why I was having these dreams. I thought - I thought they were just dreams.”
“And now?”
“I think they’re memories? Of a life I once lived?”
Nishikido let a wry look cross his face, “It took you long enough, Tomohisa.”
For some reason, Nishikido calling him that made him shudder. It reminded him too much of the dreams.
Yamapi shook his head, “Please, don’t. Anything else but…that, please. Call me Yamapi or Yamashita or whatever you can come up with. You can even call me weirdo if you want.”
The older man gave him an odd look, “Alright then.” He agreed, “You don’t seem to be anything like what I remember you to be.” He commented.
Yamapi shuddered at the reminder, “I hate those dreams.” He said sullenly.
“Well, if you’ve remembered everything, you won’t have them anymore.” Nishikido said plainly, “I didn’t after I remembered everything.”
Yamapi blinked in surprise, “When did…”
“The summer I was eighteen. Let me tell you, I thought it was just some weird fantasy I was having back then. Until it took a dark turn.” Nishikido said, levelling a pointed look at him.
Yamapi paled, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
There was a long pause.
“You know, I often thought about this day that if I found you, I would beat you within an inch of your life for what you did.” Nishikido said darkly, eyes flashing with anger and betrayal.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Yamapi winced at the thought, “I can’t stand it.” He blurted out, “That monster was me! Or a version of me! Or whatever!”
Nishikido was still staring at him with wariness in his eyes though, “I’m not going to say that I actually like you.” He said, “But I’m going to tell you that you seem, so far, to be nothing like him. But then again, that’s how he started off at first too.”
Yamapi shuddered; the thought of even becoming anything like the one in his dreams was terrifying.
Another bout of silence fell between them.
“So, why did you even want to talk to me?” Nishikido finally asked.
“I…I don’t know,” Yamapi admitted, “I thought…I needed confirmation that it was real, I guess.”
“Oh trust me, it was. At least I believe it was. Whether you do or not is up to you.” Nishikido said calmly.
“So it could really be just a dream I have?” Yamapi asked hopefully.
“Look, Yamashita. No offence, but it would be really weird for you and I to have dreams of the same sort of things happening. And unless you have a budding dream of being my brother and then killing -”
“I don’t,” Yamapi interrupted before Nishikido could finish, “I don’t! I hate that. I wake up screaming from those dreams, just…he didn’t care about anything but himself. He was so consumed with getting what he wanted.”
Nishikido paused at that, “I didn’t wake up screaming from my dreams.” He said plainly.
Yamapi paused at that, and then in an indignant, almost hurt, voice, “Why?”
It wasn’t fair, was it? He thought it was something that came with this - that there was something about remembering a former life or whatever that was so shocking that he would end up screaming. Or something. At least, the dreams were traumatizing to him.
“Maybe the same reason that Kazuya remembers nothing.” Nishikido said bluntly, “He doesn’t, you know. So I suppose you’re safe there, in your relationship.”
Not even Yamapi could fail to notice the tension in his voice at that.
“Why…” he stopped himself from continuing, but Nishikido seemed to know what he wanted to ask.
“I got too caught up in my dreams that year,” Nishikido said in low, dark tones, “My dreams weren’t all that terrifying. When I finally remembered, I couldn’t really differentiate between the Kazuya in this life and the one in that life.” He said with a glare at his own hands, “I made a couple of mistakes; I failed to realize that Kazuya doesn’t remember a thing and that even though they’re essentially the same person, they aren’t really the same person.”
Yamapi looked away, seeing the truly distraught look in Nishikido’s eyes.
He understood though; he had seen it himself how strong their relationship had been. He couldn’t blame Nishikido for forgetting for a while that it wasn’t the same person he was talking to.
“Why doesn’t Kamenashi remember?” he asked after a moment, curiously.
“Do I look like I know everything?” Nishikido asked sardonically, “Maybe it’s because he never did anything wrong. I didn’t either, but I did kill you. And well - you’re self-explanatory.”
Yamapi winced again. He was really starting to dislike the fact that there was someone who knew exactly what he had done. But in a way, it was also freeing. Someone knew; there was someone he didn’t have to hide it from.
And there’s someone who knows what I could be capable of…
Someone who probably will have no problem hitting me if I start becoming like him.
“I’ll tell you this now though. I may have messed up with Kazuya in this life, but I’m not going to stand back if you do anything…questionable. I’ll be watching, so you’d better not get into old habits. As long as you don’t, I’ll learn to tolerate you.”
“Not… like me?” Yamapi couldn’t help but ask with a sarcastic smile. He was trying to lighten the mood, and try to joke just a bit about that threat, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart stop. He was confused; he knew that Nishikido still had feelings for Kamenashi, so why was the older man just…giving up? He didn’t understand it.
“Liking you would be a stretch,” Nishikido said dryly, “Let’s stick with tolerate.”
There was a heavy silence as Yamapi struggled to find it in him to ask about what was confusing him.
“Why?” he finally asked, desperate for an answer. He was desperate for all the answers he could get actually.
Nishikido raised an eyebrow.
“Why aren’t you trying to get him back?” Yamapi asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but I saw you two in - back then.”
Nishikido had a stormy expression on his face for a brief moment, “Because this life and that life are different.” He said quietly, “I already made the mistake of trying to push what I knew of him in a previous life onto him, and we barely got our friendship back from that. He’s still important to me, so I’m not going to risk losing that. It’d be different if he still had feelings for me, but he doesn’t. I’m not going to destroy something I care about in order to chase a memory. Unless he miraculously remembers but I’m not holding out much hope for that. I’m pretty sure remembering what happened is our punishment for killing each other.”
Yamapi blinked at that. Nishikido obviously didn’t think that remembering what had happened was a good thing.
Of course, if he didn’t remember, he and Kamenashi might still be together, Yamapi thought, and he hated the fact that he felt a surge of petty joy at that. He shouldn’t be happy about it, but it was because of that that Yamapi had a chance with Kamenashi.
“Is that why you’re not beating the life out of me?” he asked, trying to hide his emotions, “Because this isn’t the same life?”
“Exactly.” Nishikido sighed, “Besides, Kazuya would hate me for it. So let’s stick with me tolerating you and you trying your best not to piss me off. And as long as you don’t pull a you and do something terrible to him, I won’t do the socially acceptable equivalent of beating you.”
“What…?” Yamapi asked hesitantly.
Nishikido merely smirked, “Now that would be telling, but it involves a lot of public humiliation. Let’s leave it at that.”
Yamapi couldn’t help but crack a smile, but a moment later, he sighed, “What do I do?” he wondered aloud, “I don’t know how to face him. I’m - what if…what if he hates me?”
“Are you planning to tell him?” Nishikido asked cautiously, in a strange voice as he suddenly rose from the couch. Yamapi didn’t really think about it, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“I - I don’t know.” Yamapi said quietly, “I don’t know how.”
“You could start,” Yamapi suddenly realized why Nishikido was sounding so odd, and why he had such a strange expression on his face, “With just telling me the truth.”
Yamapi whipped around to see Kamenashi standing there, arms crossed and not looking entirely impressed. He jumped up.
He looked between Kamenashi and Nishikido, and back again.
How much had Kamenashi heard? From the look on Kamenashi’s face, he was expecting answers and he was expecting them now.
He looked at Nishikido desperately.
“Well,” Nishikido commented, “I’m reassured. You’re too much of a wimp in this life to do anything evil.”
Kamenashi looked at Nishikido, “Ryo.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not -”
Yamapi backed away, fear overpowering him again. He wasn’t ready; he wasn’t ready to tell Kamenashi everything. It was still too terrifying, and he had just realized everything today. Couldn’t -
Before he could even move, one hand grabbed his arm; and then a foot stomped on his, keeping him from going anywhere.
Yamapi looked in shock, first at Kamenashi who was the one holding onto his arm, a ‘don’t you even think about running off’ expression on his face, and then at Nishikido who was smirking as he lifted his foot off of Yamapi’s.
“I’m just going to leave you two alone,” Nishikido said with a satisfied look that didn’t look quite that genuine.
Kamenashi looked sharply at him, “Ryo.”
“Look, I’ll explain things from my point of view to you later,” Nishikido said after a moment, “If you still want to hear it. But you should really hear it from him first.” He said pointing at Yamapi, “You’re dating him. Unless you want to turn this into a threesome -”
“Ryo,” Kamenashi looked irritated, “Do you have to turn everything into a proposition for sex?”
“Actually -”
“Go find Uchi.”
Nishikido shot them a wide smirk, but Yamapi stared at him. Maybe it was just him, but the…comments that Nishikido made seemed like an attempt to cover up his disappointment that he wasn’t the one Kamenashi was dating right now. He felt a shot of sympathy for the older man, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel more relaxed.
Nishikido was making a point to him, he knew. As the one Kamenashi was dating right now, Yamapi had to be the one responsible for telling him first, especially if he wanted to remain in a good relationship with Kamenashi, and he did, so he couldn’t let someone else do it. He had to take responsibility, and be truthful even if Kamenashi might not believe him or think of him as being insane.
Nishikido was accepting that things had changed in this life, because they were all different people.
So Yamapi couldn’t be afraid of who he had been in a previous life, he had to…
He had to tell Kamenashi the truth himself, without help, and not hide and lie if he wanted to be different from his previous self. If he wanted to be with Kamenashi, he couldn’t keep doing what he had always been doing in this life - running away.
Yamapi braced himself, gathering his courage to tell the younger man everything.
The younger man was giving him a pointed look, still not looking very pleased with anything right now.
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
He began to explain, as best as he could, beating away all thoughts of running away.
Finally, came a little voice inside of his head. Or maybe it was his heart.
* * *
Kamenashi had been more than a bit perturbed by the time Yamapi stopped talking - rambling more like - and Yamapi had had an inkling that the younger man might need a bit of time to think about what he had said - without him around. He wasn't sure if Kamenashi would really believe him - he probably wouldn’t, considering how impossible and unlikely it was, and considering that Kamenashi had no recollection of anything like that.
Yamapi had left Nishikido's apartment, passing by the older man as he did, and he muttered a reluctant, "He might need to hear it from you too," as he did.
Yamapi must have been talking to Kamenashi longer than he thought, because by the time he had come out of that sitting room, Nishikido had a bewildered looking Uchi with him. Nishikido had nodded but Yamapi hadn’t stayed to find out how that went. He needed to get out. As much as he didn't want to risk it - and he knew he would need to try to get over this insecurity about Kamenashi around Nishikido - he knew that having two people tell you the same thing was more believable.
That was how he had finally accepted things after all.
He had needed Nishikido's confirmation that they had both had the same dreams, the same recollections, before he had been able to finally, truly accept it.
But that didn’t mean that Yamapi felt comfortable with it.
He had wandered around for a while before finally ending back in the dorm. He supposed there was no avoiding it anymore. Kamenashi was probably back by now, and Yamapi would find out whether he would be seen as crazy or insane, or whether or not Kamenashi hated him for what he had done to him in another life.
Kamenashi was waiting for him when he got back to their dorm room.
It struck Yamapi as odd, considering how many times he had been the one waiting, holing himself up in the dorm like it was his only refuge, waiting for Kamenashi to get back - considering that, half the time, it had been because Kamenashi had been irritated at him.
The younger man was looking at him warily, hesitantly, but when Yamapi took only a step further into the room, Kamenashi got a strangely pleased look on his face for some reason.
“You’re not running away,” he remarked in a light tone.
Yamapi was taken aback; was that what Kamenashi had been so wary of just now? That he would run away? Yamapi would have been insulted if it weren’t for the fact that Kamenashi had ample reasons to be wary about that. Yamapi had spent most of his time running away from everything, hiding from the truth. He had hid his feelings when Kamenashi had told him about his, just to avoid the possibility of getting hurt. He had always taken a step back, not willing to tell anyone what was bothering him, just choosing to retreat into himself and his own problems rather than finding the courage to open up to someone.
But…for some reason, he didn’t feel like he had to run away anymore.
Maybe it was thanks to telling Kamenashi earlier. Telling Kamenashi, letting him know what a monster Yamapi had been once, had always been his biggest fear. Or, more like, it was having done something that would make Kamenashi hate and fear him that was his biggest fear. It had been one that was present since high school, maybe even junior high, when he had those flashes of images instead of nightmares.
Yamapi was done with running. He was fed up with it.
He sat down next to Kamenashi just to emphasize that - if only to himself.
“Ryo said you told him to talk to me,” Kamenashi said in a calm tone.
Yamapi wished he wasn’t calm; he could deal with anger, or hatred, or fear. He wasn’t sure how to deal with calmness. It felt like it would shatter at any moment, and then he would be lost.
“I did…”
“Why?”
Yamapi blinked, “Because it seemed like I was insane and I didn’t want you to think that I was making up some story. It seemed more likely for you to believe me if Nishikido talked to you too.”
Kamenashi was silent for a moment, before he looked up at Yamapi, “And so you could be away from me once I believed it and found out everything that you think you did?”
Yamapi winced at the think in that sentence. Did Kamenashi still not believe him?
“I believe it.” He said finally, “I wasn’t sure if you would. And…I guess that was also true, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face you and maybe…maybe find out that you hated me. I wouldn’t blame you,” he added quickly, “What I did - it was horrible.” He shuddered.
Kamenashi didn’t say anything to that, but when he looked up again, there was an emotion in his eyes that Yamapi knew all too well, “I didn’t need Ryo to tell me, even if it did make it easier to believe the second time around.” He added musingly, “It’s unbelievable, and I still can’t really wrap my head around it…”
Yamapi stiffened, “I know it’s…”
“Let me finish. It’s really unbelievable, but I saw how much you believed in it.” Kamenashi said finally, “I’m not sure I really understand this. I know I don’t understand this. I know that I should be calling you crazy. But…you believe in it enough…and…I’ve seen you having your nightmares. I’m not sure if I really believe them like you do. But, at the same time, there’s no part of me that’s rejecting what you said. Maybe it was because of what you said - that I was there, apparently.”
Yamapi stared at Kamenashi.
“I mean…I should be rejecting it. But I can’t. For some reason that I can’t explain, I believe you about this.”
Maybe this was the extent that Kamenashi would ever remember things? He wasn’t plagued with nightmares or memories, so maybe this was the most Kamenashi would ever remember? Little feelings that told him that Yamapi and Nishikido were telling the truth, so that just like them, he couldn’t deny the past.
“And about my reaction to it…” Kamenashi said when Yamapi seemed to sag with relief and get lost in his thoughts, “I told Ryo. He explained our…relationship…then,” he said with a bit of difficulty, “And before, the one that I remember. I was…okay, I was emotionally distraught at what he had told me. About how close we were. And especially when I realized how things could have been if he had never remembered anything.”
Yamapi winced, feeling a bit of his heart breaking already.
“He told me…but…and he agrees, even if I know he’s still hurt and disappointed, that I’m not the same person. I don’t remember being the lover of a lord’s heir. I don’t remember raising two children with him. I don’t remember anything. What he remembered of the…other me, I didn’t remember, and I went through a lot of emotional hell trying to live up to what he expected of me. He was so caught up in the past and what he thought he knew about me because of what he remembered. It wasn’t on purpose of course because, back then, he could barely differentiate between the one he remembered and the one he was with but…”
Yamapi swallowed, watching as Kamenashi’s expression changed to one of sadness.
“I don’t remember anything. So I can safely say that I don’t remember anything you did to me. So I can’t hate you. How can I hate you for something I don’t remember, right?” Kamenashi offered a shaky smile.
Yamapi could barely return it; his hands were shaking, just a little, as Kamenashi began to kill his fears right then and there.
His breath caught when Kamenashi moved to stand over him, his fingers running up Yamapi’s arms in a strangely comforting and distracting way,
“I like you. That’s what I know. I don’t remember anything so I…I can’t and won’t judge my relationships on what happened in a…past life,” he swallowed those words with difficulty, “I can’t…say for sure that we’ll be happy together, because I’m just like everyone else in the world. I don’t know what the future holds, and I shouldn’t. The future changes. There is no destiny set in stone. Ryo is proof of that…”
“So…” Yamapi could only breathe out.
“So, right now, what I know is that you’re the one I like that way. The only one I like that way.” Kamenashi said, “If you can accept that there’s no set happy ending, like you seem to think that…I used to have with Ryo…”
“I can.” Yamapi said quickly, heart beating faster, and relief washing over him. Then, it gave way to a happy feeling that was growing in his chest.
“Good then,” Kamenashi said, before he leaned forward, crushing Yamapi’s lips in a kiss. Then, Yamapi felt strong hands grip his wrists, before he was pushed and backed against a wall as the kiss deepened, “Because,” the younger man said with a smirk, “I plan to live my life the way I want to and nobody is going to tell me what to do with it. Not even…a form of myself, if that ever happens. This is my life.” He breathed out, his mouth not far from Yamapi’s.
Yamapi could only smile and mumble an agreement against Kamenashi’s lips.
--- THE END --
Note: hope you liked it!! :D
Written for: reddorozette
Pairing: pikame (& a bit of ryokame)
Words: 36 427
Rating: PG-15? (somewhere between PG-13 and R)
Notes: thank you very much to my beta!!!!! <3333
Summary: From the first moment that he met Kamenashi Kazuya, Yamashita Tomohisa knew, just knew, that somehow, he had done something horrible to the younger boy. Is it possible to hate someone in one life, but love them in the next? In one life, Yamashita Tomohisa murdered Kamenashi Kazuya but in this life, he's in love with him...
--
Tomohisa could hear laughter coming from the house as he crept alongside its walls, carefully avoiding the windows that revealed light inside. A twig crunched under his foot, but he ignored it when the sound of voices and laughter didn't stop. He continued along until he found the side door, the servant's door, though it was unlikely that there were servants here right now. If there were, there wouldn't be many - maybe one. But he doubted there were any at all.
It had indeed taken him years to find his way back.
He had managed to escape the house he had been confined in, despite the fact that he knew that it was likely that one or two people in the nearby village - the only way to get out of the area - were his father’s servants meant to keep him there. The problem with that was that he had no idea who they were, and he had no doubt they were more loyal to his father than to Tomohisa, who had never treated the commoner servants well while he had been at the estate.
One night, though, he had managed to escape. He hadn’t been sure which way to head after that, but he had taken a risk and simply gone north. It was three months of travelling later that Tomohisa finally came upon a small village, and it was to his irritation that he realized that he was supposed to have gone the other way if he had wanted to get back to his father’s realm.
His father had literally dropped him off at the very other side of the country.
Still, Tomohisa was determined. He wouldn’t give up.
He had spent nearly two years plotting a way to escape; it had been horrible, trapped in that house and village. He was treated like he wasn’t even important. Everyone else was either a commoner or of gentry class, and they treated him with either indifference, if they had no idea who he was, or disdain, if they knew that he had been exiled and that meant, to them, that he didn’t even matter.
Which was torture to Tomohisa.
He had had to get out of there, no, he had needed to get out of there. He was sure that if he stayed any longer, he might’ve gone insane and jumped off a cliff.
And he knew what he needed to do the moment he left.
He needed to find his way back to his father’s realm, and find the people who did this to him. He would finally know how it felt to be better than Ryo, better than Kazuya, superior to both of them. Both of his father’s favourites. And he would make sure that his father knew it when they admitted defeat to him. He would destroy them, like he had wanted to do all those years ago.
The servant’s door on the side of the house swung open inside, almost like an ominous welcome to him.
And like another welcome to him, a young servant girl stared in surprise and trepidation at him. Tomohisa moved quickly, gripping her thin arm so tightly that if he moved it a little, he could probably break it, “Get in the cupboard.” He hissed, “If you know what’s good for you.”
The girl was young and small enough to fit in there, and she looked at him with fear as he closed the door. He found a plank of wood easily enough, in a pile in the corner, and placed it so that she couldn’t open the door unless she broke through it.
Tomohisa was as silent as he could as he crept toward the other side of the house, where all the lights and voices were coming from.
It was when he was close to the room, only a short hallway away, that he swiped at a figurine on the table, causing it to crash loudly on the ground with a sound that reverberated through the entire area and caused the voices down the hall to stop.
Then, he could hear it.
“I’ll go check.”
“It’s probably just the serving girl. She’s back early. Don’t make her cry again, Ryo,” was said in a lightly humoured voice.
“I didn’t know she would be so easily scared,” Ryo’s voice said defensively. The sound of laughter met Tomohisa’s ears and he gritted his teeth even as he listened to the sound of a door opening, and then the sound of footsteps approaching.
They were getting closer…
And closer…
And just a little more now…
Ryo didn’t have time to do anything but look shocked when Tomohisa slammed one of the plank of woods he had found in the kitchen into his gut, cutting off any attempts for Ryo to yell, and then as he fell forward, he hit Ryo across the back of his head, before the older man could even try to react.
Tomohisa stepped on Ryo’s hand even as he swept by the man’s fallen form. His half brother was trying to move, to get up, despite the probably ever growing darkness in his vision.
“I’m going to deal with that thorn in my side first,” Tomohisa hissed, “Maybe now you’ll be able to feel how I felt when you took everything from me when you came back.”
Ryo was angry, he could tell, but Tomohisa also knew that not even Ryo could stay conscious after such a blow to the head. Just in case though, he lifted his blunt weapon of choice and hit Ryo across the head again. Ryo’s body went limp.
Tomohisa regarded Ryo with a superior feeling of triumph. Finally. For once, he had beat Ryo. It was a shallow victory, he knew, but it felt good nonetheless. He knelt down and fingered the yukata that Ryo was wearing, feeling disgusted. Of course Ryo would be wearing expensive clothes while he had been suffering just trying to get back.
Anger coursing through him, he made his way down the hallway, making sure to keep his footsteps calm and non-threatening. He opened the door.
“Please tell me you didn’t make her cry -” Kazuya’s smile, as he turned, dropped immediately, giving way to an expression of shock, “What are you doing here?! Where’s Ryo?”
Tomohisa moved forward, a dark smile on his face. Kazuya was stubborn and stood his ground though, not moving; Tomohisa shifted so that the knife he had tied around his waist showed, “I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.” He snarled, “And getting rid of an annoying little twit that ruined everything for me.”
“You ruined things for yourself,” Kazuya retorted, taking a step backward upon seeing the glint of the knife.
Tomohisa grabbed Kazuya by the front of his yukata, a dark smirk on his lips, “I see. This is why you were here - having a little honeymoon with my brother, Kazuya?” he drawled, a scowl crossing his face, “Enjoying a life of luxury when I’ve been barely surviving trying to find my way back.”
Kazuya matched his expression with ease, a dark look of hatred on his face, “You brought it onto yourself. You would have had a good life if you hadn’t been so obsessed with taking everything from your brother.”
“It was supposed to be mine!” Tomohisa hissed.
“It was always Ryo’s.”
Tomohisa saw red and swung at Kazuya; the younger man ducked, and while he was underneath Tomohisa’s arm, pushed him roughly, sending Tomohisa tumbling to the floor with a crash. Kazuya ran to the door, already out of it by the time Tomohisa got up to chase after him.
“Ryo!” he could hear the younger man calling. Tomohisa caught up to Kazuya as he was leaning over Ryo’s prone form, shaking his lover.
“What did you do to him?!” Kazuya snarled angrily, fearfully.
Tomohisa smirked, not admitting to anything.
“You attacked your brother, and for what?!” Kazuya hissed, “You’re the worst. No wonder your father refused to give anything to you - no wonder he sent you away. I wouldn’t want anything to do with you if I were him!”
Tomohisa was incensed and getting angrier; he lunged at Kazuya, wrapping his hands around the younger man’s throat, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing! You helped steal what was mine! It was supposed to be mine!”
Kazuya’s eyes were wide open in shock at the situation, struggling to remove Tomohisa’s hands. Tomohisa only put more pressure in his fingers though, and took pleasure in the sheer panic that was taking over Kazuya’s face.
He released his fingers for a moment, “Anything left to say?” he sneered.
“You’re too late,” Kazuya choked out, “You’ll never get what you want.”
“I will,” Tomohisa hissed, “I heard. After two miscarriages, it was a girl that Ryo’s consort gave birth to. I have more of a claim than she ever will!”
Kazuya merely smirked at him, angering Tomohisa even more; just as he was tightening his hold around Kamenashi’s throat again, intent on choking the breath out of him, Tomohisa felt movement-
A flash of pain seared across his upper body. He howled in pain and lifted his fingers for a moment, holding his hands to the blood that was suddenly swelling up to the surface. Kazuya lifted his hand again; in it was the knife that Tomohisa had kept at his waist, and he moved to attack Tomohisa again -
Tomohisa avoided the hit, putting all his strength in grabbing Kazuya’s arm and twisting it, twisting until the younger man hissed in pain and dropped the knife, and he struggled against Tomohisa. Somehow, the knife clattered across the room.
“How would my father feel about you trying to kill his son?” he scolded tauntingly.
Kazuya tried to push Tomohisa off but the older man was heavier than Kazuya, and was determinedly putting all his weight on Kazuya.
“He probably won’t even cry for you,” Kazuya hissed out, lashing out, “You’re despicable. But you won’t win, Tomohisa. I know you won’t - in the end, you’ll lose.”
“No, no!” Tomohisa roared in anger, “I’m winning. I’ve won! Why can’t you admit defeat to me?!”
“Because,” Kazuya said, moving his arm with difficulty, and he purposely pressed his hand against Tomohisa’s wound, “No matter what happens, I win. Ryo wins. You will never win. You’re too late to win.”
The wound was bleeding profusely, but Kazuya didn’t seem to care; he dug his nails into the skin near the wound, dragging them across the wound, eliciting a roar of pain from Tomohisa. Then, in that moment, with a show of force that Tomohisa hadn’t expected at all, he managed to throw the older man off of him and stood up as quickly as possible, running to get the knife.
Tomohisa growled, following and trying to stop him. Kazuya kicked him in the knee and the damage was done; Tomohisa recoiled, giving Kazuya enough time to get to the knife. His fingers closed around the hilt just as Tomohisa grabbed onto his leg and twisted, pulling the younger man to him.
Kazuya struggled to try to get at Tomohisa with the knife, but since he was being jolted forward in an erratic manner, he couldn’t do much damage. Tomohisa still winced as the knife made a slash on his cheek though, and he growled out in pain. He gave Kazuya’s leg a merciless twist and jerk and the younger man gasped out in pain, dropping his weapon, as a sickening crack echoed through the room, and Kazuya’s leg was left twisted in a brutal way.
Tomohisa, out of breath from the struggle, picked up the knife before Kazuya could recover from the pain, and without stopping to think, his hand went down. There was a stomach turning sound of metal piercing flesh. Tomohisa pulled the knife back out, the metal covered with blood, before throwing it aside for the moment.
“I got you,” he crooned victoriously even as he gazed at the blood beginning to stain the yukata of the man he had grown to hate almost as much as his brother, “I win.”
“No, you don’t,” Kazuya was struggling to speak, but he managed to do it anyways, “I told you. You’ll never win. You are -”
What he was, Tomohisa never got to find out, because there was a jolt of pain that suddenly went through his upper body. He whirled around, Kazuya forgotten for a moment. He only registered Ryo’s furious eyes and a raised fist before he heard a familiar, sickening noise once he moved forward. It took a moment for the pain to register in his mind, but by then, Tomohisa had collapsed to the ground, head hitting the floorboards. His eyes went from Ryo standing over him to the blood-covered knife in his brother’s hand, and then to the triumphant and grief-stricken expression.
“No…”
Ryo didn’t even bother him with a look, just kicked him out of the way as he went to Kazuya as quickly as possible; the younger man was probably barely hanging on, judging by the struggling breaths that filled the room.
“R - Ryo…”
“Hold on,” he heard Ryo say desperately. He moved his head, glancing over; Ryo was trying to stop the bleeding, but it was going to be too late.
“Y - you can’t let him g - get away,” Kazuya was breathing out, “The - he’ll find t -them. H - He’ll find a - a way…”
“They’re safe with my father, don’t talk, Kazuya,” Ryo sounded on the verge of breaking down, his hands covered with Kazuya’s blood as he tried to put a stop to the bleeding, “You - you’ll be okay. I just have to stop the bleeding. We’ll - we’ll get you to town, to a doctor, to…I can - ” He said desperately, trying to lift Kazuya up.
The younger man let out a sharp gasp though at the movement and Ryo quickly stopped. He was looking lost and heartbroken at the same time, obviously unsure of what to do. Tomohisa tried to listen, despite the pain spreading through him. His fingers reached out for the knife that had been dropped many times already tonight. He…
He could still win.
He drew up on all the hatred and anger that had gotten him this far, fingers feeling for the familiar hilt of the knife…
“H - he’s not going to stop at us. H - he thinks h - he died. But…I - if he g - gets to your f - father’s…h - he’ll find them.”
“He’s not going anywhere. But you have to, we have to - we can still get help for you!”
Tomohisa felt victory fill him as his fingers felt the blood soaked metal of the knife. He ran his fingers along the blade until it reached the hilt. His breathing became erratic from the victory that was so close; he put an arm around himself, trying to keep from worsening the wound as he sat up.
Ryo didn’t notice. Kazuya probably couldn’t see much else but darkness and Ryo anymore.
“P - promise me…” Kazuya was telling Ryo.
Ryo looked heartbroken, as he whispered, “I promise. I lo - don’t. Don’t, Kazuya…”
Kazuya gave him a shaky attempt at a smile - it wasn’t much of one - and with difficulty, reached out for Ryo’s hand, desperately running his fingers along Ryo’s skin until he could fold his fingers with Ryo’s blood-drenched ones. A quiet whisper of something meant only for Ryo’s ears left him with the same last breath that left his body.
Tomohisa knew what it was though; he had been close enough to hear it.
I love you too, he had heard in response to Ryo trying to say the same thing, but failing to because of his grief. If Tomohisa had been anyone else, his heart might have hurt from the scene he had just witnessed, especially as Ryo bent his head, and wet droplets made their way onto the floorboards below him.
But he wasn’t. He was determined, and he was going to finish this.
Half standing, Tomohisa lunged forward, ignoring the sharp pain of his wound, and the knife wedged itself deep in Ryo’s back. It wasn’t quite what Tomohisa had been aiming for, but it would do the job.
Ryo let out a guttural sound of surprise; there was a moment of silence before Ryo turned to Tomohisa, pain, grief and betrayal evident in his eyes. He swayed on his feet for a moment, his dark eyes glaring daggers at Tomohisa. With a hiss, he reached back, his eyes showing fiery determination, and in a show that shocked even Tomohisa, he somehow managed to get the knife out of his back, though dragging the blade down across previously unbroken skin as he went.
Blood spurted from the wound, but Ryo still refused to go down. He let out another hiss and, with difficultly and purely on strength of will alone, those dark eyes managed to meet Tomohisa’s in a deathly glare that would stay with Tomohisa for a long time.
“I promised I’d stop you,” he whispered; it was obviously difficult for him to even talk, and his eyes were losing their light. Tomohisa delighted in that, so sure of his victory and Ryo’s inability to stop him that he failed to notice that Ryo’s arm was moving toward him. He gasped out in shock as, for the second time, the knife embedded itself into his body.
Ryo collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as he stared at Tomohisa.
Tomohisa struggled to stay up, “No. NO. I’m supposed to win.”
“Y - you won’t,” Ryo said with finality, using all of his strength to say this, “F - father knew you’d e - escape e - eventually. A - and come b - back. T - the l - latest pregnancy…a b - boy. O - only the first m - miscarriage was real.”
Tomohisa felt horror fill him, anger, and every negative emotion even as he finally fell, darkness beginning to creep into the corners of his vision. Breathing was difficult; coupled with this shock, breathing was near impossible. Pain, pain, it was all in him like a disease…
“I - I have a d - daughter and a s - son.” Ryo said with his last words, “I - I’ve killed you to protect t - them. I - I couldn’t h - help Kazuya, but…y - you’re not going n - near our c - children.”
And he went completely limp, completely silent, darkness forcing out the already dimming light in his eyes.
Tomohisa struggled, he tried, but in the end, he couldn’t fight the same darkness that was threatening him. Pain was the last thing he would ever feel.
* * *
Yamapi woke up in a fit, barely managing to stifle the scream that wanted to escape. His cheeks were wet with tears and his heart was breaking. He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking as he hid under his covers, trying to keep quiet, trying to keep Kamenashi from hearing. He didn’t know if he could see Kamenashi right now, not with what he had just seen - not with what he had…done. A hand over his mouth, he bolted for the bathroom, not bothering to shrug his covers off.
He leaned over the sink and shakily splashed cold water onto his face.
That hadn’t happened, right? He looked into his own wide and fearful eyes in the mirror. That hadn’t really happened, right?
Right?
He shook as he picked up and wrapped the covers around himself again, needing to find out if - if Kamenashi was alright. Maybe it would help stop the shaking if he saw that Kamenashi was alright? Maybe…but he doubted it. The tears wouldn’t stop coming either; even as he stood in Kamenashi’s doorway and stared in relief at the sleeping form of Kamenashi, he couldn’t stop these reactions. He couldn’t even hide them.
They were paralyzing him.
He had thought they were over, that these dreams would end and that the worse was over. It had been days since he had had a dream. There had been a few happy, blissful days of exploring his newly established relationship with Kamneashi…
But…
What he saw was so horrible; what he felt had been horrible and -
What he had done.
Yamapi suddenly realized something, taking a step back away from Kamenashi’s room in the shock of it all.
Oh my god. He knows.
Dark, suspicious eyes danced in Yamapi’s memory, coupled with accusatory words, and -
“And then he betrayed me in the worst way possible.”
Nishikido Ryo knew. Of course, Yamapi had already suspected that he knew what Yamapi saw in his dreams, knew that Yamapi had recognized him before, but Yamapi had never realized, until now, that perhaps Nishikido Ryo knew everything that he had done.
Those suspicious looks, those well-hidden accusations…
Of course.
With what he had just seen, it made sense for him to be wary of Yamapi, especially when concerning Kamenashi. It was…
Yamapi rushed to the bathroom again, feeling a vile taste in the back of his throat. A few moment of dry retching later, Yamapi was no closer to calming down. His hands shook, his shoulders shook, and he couldn’t stop that ice cold feeling from spreading all over.
And he couldn’t go to Kamenashi about this, he couldn’t.
This was too horrible, too terrifying and -
Yamapi shuddered as he came back out. He didn’t even want to think about it, and he couldn’t even imagine trying to explain it.
I killed you in my dreams. How do I explain that?!
He stopped in his tracks. Kamenashi was standing there in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and looking like he had just forced himself out of bed.
“Are you okay?” Kamenashi asked drowsily, looking extremely out of it. Considering it was just past four in the morning, Yamapi wasn’t entirely surprised.
“I’m -” Yamapi stopped himself before he could lie again. He merely fell silent, shuddering.
Kamenashi looked at him in concern, before grabbing Yamapi by his wrist and pulling him toward the younger man’s room. Yamapi wanted to protest, that he wanted to go back to his own room, but he didn’t really have the heart to. He didn’t really want to be in his room alone right now anyway; he didn’t want to be trapped in his own thoughts, with his own fears…not when he could try to forget it all with Kamenashi’s presence.
He wanted to forget the confusion, the hurt, the pain…
“One day, these nightmares of yours will stop,” Kamenashi was saying quietly to him. Since Yamapi had finally found the resolve and courage to move things forward with Kamenashi, the younger man had been more forward with his comfort. He was obviously frustrated about not being of any help, and the way he seemed to resolve this helplessness was to make sure that Yamapi wasn’t alone at all.
The first time he had been dragged into Kamenashi’s room after a nightmare, Yamapi had been bewildered, until he realized that Kamenashi meant for him to have somebody nearby, somebody to be with him so that he wasn’t left alone with the monsters that haunted his dreams.
Yamapi wished there was an easy way to admit that the only monster that haunted his dreams was himself.
Kamenashi made some space for him in his bed, pushing the older man so that he fell onto the soft mattress. Then, suddenly, with a brush of movement, Kamenashi was on the other side of him, giving him a sleepy kiss, before the younger man pinned Yamapi down onto the mattress with one hand. It was an odd feeling, considering that right now, Yamapi remembered that in his dreams, it had been the opposite - in his dreams, his hatred had made him almost inhumanly strong, while here, he was sure that even if he tried to, Kamenashi wouldn’t be thrown off.
“This is the only way I know how to help you...” Kamenashi admitted in a tired tone. Yamapi looked at him, and he could see that Kamenashi was looking at him with concern. He was also looking helpless, like -
Like how, in his dream, for one minute, the Kamenashi of his dreams looked helpless as he realized what Yamapi had done to the Nishikido of his dreams -
He bit back a cross between a sob and a scream.
Yamapi didn’t care how it looked, or how weak he might have seemed; right now, being next to Kamenashi was both blissful and painful. He buried his face into Kamenashi’s shoulder, even as the younger man absently stroked his face with his free hand.
It gave Yamapi a brief reprise from the pain that ached in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this, to not have to think about what he had just seen and what it meant.
It was only after that hand fell limp, Kamenashi having fallen asleep, that Yamapi couldn’t fool himself anymore and he moved. He sat up, hugging his legs to himself, and staring at Kamenashi.
It was a face he could never forget.
He had liked Kamenashi for so long, afraid to admit it for so long, because he knew - he knew that something like this would happen.
He knew that there would be something terrible looming in the future for him if he admitted his feelings, if he got close to Kamenashi…
What was he supposed to do?
How was he supposed to face Kamenashi, knowing what he had done? How was he supposed to be in a relationship with Kamenashi?
Yamapi spotted Kamenashi’s phone on the dresser; he hesitated only a moment before grabbing it. As quietly as possible, he looked through the younger man’s contact list, a wild idea coming to him, one that he wasn’t sure was too wise but he had nowhere else to turn to.
Nishikido Ryo.
He memorized the phone number before closing the phone. Then, he slipped back down into Kamenashi’s bed, taking comfort in what time he had left in Kamenashi’s arms; it probably wouldn’t last for much longer, he told himself. He let out a muffled cry. Not when Kamenashi eventually found out what he now knew.
He froze.
A hand had moved to pat his face.
He looked at Kamenashi; the younger man was still deep asleep. The hand moved again, and in a surprising show of strength, Yamapi found himself yanked back down onto the bed. Yamapi let out what seemed to be a laugh and a sob.
How was he supposed to go back to being alone?
Kamenashi’s feelings for him, Kamenashi, had made him feel not alone, not odd, and not undeserving of people’s love.
How was he supposed to go back to being alone, feeling alone, and wishing that he wasn’t alone?
How do I do this?
* * *
In the morning, after Kamenashi had left for classes, and after Yamapi couldn’t find an excuse to stall any longer, Yamapi went back to his room. He turned on his phone to send a text.
I need to talk to you.
A moment later, Who the hell is this?
Yamapi bit his lip; if he did this now, there was no turning back…
But he…he had to do this.
Kamenashi’s roommate. I remember everything.
The reply was almost immediate.
It included an address and a time, as well as short message.
It’s about time you did.
* * *
Yamapi was less of a wreck by the time he got to Nishikido’s place. The older man lived off campus, so Yamapi had needed to take a bus trip to get there. It was a relief to have that time though; Yamapi had been so preoccupied with figuring out where to get off and making sure he was on the right bus, that he was distracted from his thoughts for a little while. As he made his way up to the apartment where Nishikido lived though, the shakiness and the sheer heartbreak came back. He felt like a wreck again by the time he rang the doorbell.
Nishikido opened the door a moment later, and this time, he didn’t attempt to hide any of the emotions in those dark eyes.
Those dark eyes that became truly dark in Yamapi’s dream -
Yamapi bit back a gasp and a shudder. If Nishikido noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept on surveying him. Yamapi couldn’t help but notice that Nishikido looked at him in a similar manner as the one in his dream often did - there was an underlying show of concern, but covering that, out of necessity, had been born the need to be wary of Yamapi.
Yamapi couldn’t blame Nishikido for being suspicious and wary.
“So you remember.” Nishikido said flatly, looking away. He moved to the side to let Yamapi in, and closed the door behind him. Yamapi merely nodded shortly as he followed Nishikido further into the apartment to a sitting room. It looked like a few people lived here, besides Nishikido.
“The other tenants are out,” Nishikido explained shortly.
Yamapi nodded, weakly, “Alright.”
“I have to say, you don’t look like you remember. What is it that you remember?” Nishikido asked after a long moment as he sat down on the couch.
Yamapi hesitantly followed, “I remember…” he bit his lip, trying to figure out the best way to say this. Besides, what if he was wrong? What if Nishikido thought he meant something else?
“I’m not going to think you’re crazy.” Nishikido retorted, “I just want to hear you say it so that you don’t think I’m crazy.”
Yamapi bit back an ironic laugh at the situation, “I remember that I was an evil bastard who did terrible things to you and someone who looked like Kamenashi.” He said bluntly.
Nishikido stared at him, and Yamapi was beginning to think he had made a mistake, and he kept going, “I had recognized you that day, but I thought I was just crazy, because I had no idea why I was having these dreams. I thought - I thought they were just dreams.”
“And now?”
“I think they’re memories? Of a life I once lived?”
Nishikido let a wry look cross his face, “It took you long enough, Tomohisa.”
For some reason, Nishikido calling him that made him shudder. It reminded him too much of the dreams.
Yamapi shook his head, “Please, don’t. Anything else but…that, please. Call me Yamapi or Yamashita or whatever you can come up with. You can even call me weirdo if you want.”
The older man gave him an odd look, “Alright then.” He agreed, “You don’t seem to be anything like what I remember you to be.” He commented.
Yamapi shuddered at the reminder, “I hate those dreams.” He said sullenly.
“Well, if you’ve remembered everything, you won’t have them anymore.” Nishikido said plainly, “I didn’t after I remembered everything.”
Yamapi blinked in surprise, “When did…”
“The summer I was eighteen. Let me tell you, I thought it was just some weird fantasy I was having back then. Until it took a dark turn.” Nishikido said, levelling a pointed look at him.
Yamapi paled, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
There was a long pause.
“You know, I often thought about this day that if I found you, I would beat you within an inch of your life for what you did.” Nishikido said darkly, eyes flashing with anger and betrayal.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Yamapi winced at the thought, “I can’t stand it.” He blurted out, “That monster was me! Or a version of me! Or whatever!”
Nishikido was still staring at him with wariness in his eyes though, “I’m not going to say that I actually like you.” He said, “But I’m going to tell you that you seem, so far, to be nothing like him. But then again, that’s how he started off at first too.”
Yamapi shuddered; the thought of even becoming anything like the one in his dreams was terrifying.
Another bout of silence fell between them.
“So, why did you even want to talk to me?” Nishikido finally asked.
“I…I don’t know,” Yamapi admitted, “I thought…I needed confirmation that it was real, I guess.”
“Oh trust me, it was. At least I believe it was. Whether you do or not is up to you.” Nishikido said calmly.
“So it could really be just a dream I have?” Yamapi asked hopefully.
“Look, Yamashita. No offence, but it would be really weird for you and I to have dreams of the same sort of things happening. And unless you have a budding dream of being my brother and then killing -”
“I don’t,” Yamapi interrupted before Nishikido could finish, “I don’t! I hate that. I wake up screaming from those dreams, just…he didn’t care about anything but himself. He was so consumed with getting what he wanted.”
Nishikido paused at that, “I didn’t wake up screaming from my dreams.” He said plainly.
Yamapi paused at that, and then in an indignant, almost hurt, voice, “Why?”
It wasn’t fair, was it? He thought it was something that came with this - that there was something about remembering a former life or whatever that was so shocking that he would end up screaming. Or something. At least, the dreams were traumatizing to him.
“Maybe the same reason that Kazuya remembers nothing.” Nishikido said bluntly, “He doesn’t, you know. So I suppose you’re safe there, in your relationship.”
Not even Yamapi could fail to notice the tension in his voice at that.
“Why…” he stopped himself from continuing, but Nishikido seemed to know what he wanted to ask.
“I got too caught up in my dreams that year,” Nishikido said in low, dark tones, “My dreams weren’t all that terrifying. When I finally remembered, I couldn’t really differentiate between the Kazuya in this life and the one in that life.” He said with a glare at his own hands, “I made a couple of mistakes; I failed to realize that Kazuya doesn’t remember a thing and that even though they’re essentially the same person, they aren’t really the same person.”
Yamapi looked away, seeing the truly distraught look in Nishikido’s eyes.
He understood though; he had seen it himself how strong their relationship had been. He couldn’t blame Nishikido for forgetting for a while that it wasn’t the same person he was talking to.
“Why doesn’t Kamenashi remember?” he asked after a moment, curiously.
“Do I look like I know everything?” Nishikido asked sardonically, “Maybe it’s because he never did anything wrong. I didn’t either, but I did kill you. And well - you’re self-explanatory.”
Yamapi winced again. He was really starting to dislike the fact that there was someone who knew exactly what he had done. But in a way, it was also freeing. Someone knew; there was someone he didn’t have to hide it from.
And there’s someone who knows what I could be capable of…
Someone who probably will have no problem hitting me if I start becoming like him.
“I’ll tell you this now though. I may have messed up with Kazuya in this life, but I’m not going to stand back if you do anything…questionable. I’ll be watching, so you’d better not get into old habits. As long as you don’t, I’ll learn to tolerate you.”
“Not… like me?” Yamapi couldn’t help but ask with a sarcastic smile. He was trying to lighten the mood, and try to joke just a bit about that threat, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart stop. He was confused; he knew that Nishikido still had feelings for Kamenashi, so why was the older man just…giving up? He didn’t understand it.
“Liking you would be a stretch,” Nishikido said dryly, “Let’s stick with tolerate.”
There was a heavy silence as Yamapi struggled to find it in him to ask about what was confusing him.
“Why?” he finally asked, desperate for an answer. He was desperate for all the answers he could get actually.
Nishikido raised an eyebrow.
“Why aren’t you trying to get him back?” Yamapi asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but I saw you two in - back then.”
Nishikido had a stormy expression on his face for a brief moment, “Because this life and that life are different.” He said quietly, “I already made the mistake of trying to push what I knew of him in a previous life onto him, and we barely got our friendship back from that. He’s still important to me, so I’m not going to risk losing that. It’d be different if he still had feelings for me, but he doesn’t. I’m not going to destroy something I care about in order to chase a memory. Unless he miraculously remembers but I’m not holding out much hope for that. I’m pretty sure remembering what happened is our punishment for killing each other.”
Yamapi blinked at that. Nishikido obviously didn’t think that remembering what had happened was a good thing.
Of course, if he didn’t remember, he and Kamenashi might still be together, Yamapi thought, and he hated the fact that he felt a surge of petty joy at that. He shouldn’t be happy about it, but it was because of that that Yamapi had a chance with Kamenashi.
“Is that why you’re not beating the life out of me?” he asked, trying to hide his emotions, “Because this isn’t the same life?”
“Exactly.” Nishikido sighed, “Besides, Kazuya would hate me for it. So let’s stick with me tolerating you and you trying your best not to piss me off. And as long as you don’t pull a you and do something terrible to him, I won’t do the socially acceptable equivalent of beating you.”
“What…?” Yamapi asked hesitantly.
Nishikido merely smirked, “Now that would be telling, but it involves a lot of public humiliation. Let’s leave it at that.”
Yamapi couldn’t help but crack a smile, but a moment later, he sighed, “What do I do?” he wondered aloud, “I don’t know how to face him. I’m - what if…what if he hates me?”
“Are you planning to tell him?” Nishikido asked cautiously, in a strange voice as he suddenly rose from the couch. Yamapi didn’t really think about it, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“I - I don’t know.” Yamapi said quietly, “I don’t know how.”
“You could start,” Yamapi suddenly realized why Nishikido was sounding so odd, and why he had such a strange expression on his face, “With just telling me the truth.”
Yamapi whipped around to see Kamenashi standing there, arms crossed and not looking entirely impressed. He jumped up.
He looked between Kamenashi and Nishikido, and back again.
How much had Kamenashi heard? From the look on Kamenashi’s face, he was expecting answers and he was expecting them now.
He looked at Nishikido desperately.
“Well,” Nishikido commented, “I’m reassured. You’re too much of a wimp in this life to do anything evil.”
Kamenashi looked at Nishikido, “Ryo.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not -”
Yamapi backed away, fear overpowering him again. He wasn’t ready; he wasn’t ready to tell Kamenashi everything. It was still too terrifying, and he had just realized everything today. Couldn’t -
Before he could even move, one hand grabbed his arm; and then a foot stomped on his, keeping him from going anywhere.
Yamapi looked in shock, first at Kamenashi who was the one holding onto his arm, a ‘don’t you even think about running off’ expression on his face, and then at Nishikido who was smirking as he lifted his foot off of Yamapi’s.
“I’m just going to leave you two alone,” Nishikido said with a satisfied look that didn’t look quite that genuine.
Kamenashi looked sharply at him, “Ryo.”
“Look, I’ll explain things from my point of view to you later,” Nishikido said after a moment, “If you still want to hear it. But you should really hear it from him first.” He said pointing at Yamapi, “You’re dating him. Unless you want to turn this into a threesome -”
“Ryo,” Kamenashi looked irritated, “Do you have to turn everything into a proposition for sex?”
“Actually -”
“Go find Uchi.”
Nishikido shot them a wide smirk, but Yamapi stared at him. Maybe it was just him, but the…comments that Nishikido made seemed like an attempt to cover up his disappointment that he wasn’t the one Kamenashi was dating right now. He felt a shot of sympathy for the older man, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel more relaxed.
Nishikido was making a point to him, he knew. As the one Kamenashi was dating right now, Yamapi had to be the one responsible for telling him first, especially if he wanted to remain in a good relationship with Kamenashi, and he did, so he couldn’t let someone else do it. He had to take responsibility, and be truthful even if Kamenashi might not believe him or think of him as being insane.
Nishikido was accepting that things had changed in this life, because they were all different people.
So Yamapi couldn’t be afraid of who he had been in a previous life, he had to…
He had to tell Kamenashi the truth himself, without help, and not hide and lie if he wanted to be different from his previous self. If he wanted to be with Kamenashi, he couldn’t keep doing what he had always been doing in this life - running away.
Yamapi braced himself, gathering his courage to tell the younger man everything.
The younger man was giving him a pointed look, still not looking very pleased with anything right now.
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
He began to explain, as best as he could, beating away all thoughts of running away.
Finally, came a little voice inside of his head. Or maybe it was his heart.
* * *
Kamenashi had been more than a bit perturbed by the time Yamapi stopped talking - rambling more like - and Yamapi had had an inkling that the younger man might need a bit of time to think about what he had said - without him around. He wasn't sure if Kamenashi would really believe him - he probably wouldn’t, considering how impossible and unlikely it was, and considering that Kamenashi had no recollection of anything like that.
Yamapi had left Nishikido's apartment, passing by the older man as he did, and he muttered a reluctant, "He might need to hear it from you too," as he did.
Yamapi must have been talking to Kamenashi longer than he thought, because by the time he had come out of that sitting room, Nishikido had a bewildered looking Uchi with him. Nishikido had nodded but Yamapi hadn’t stayed to find out how that went. He needed to get out. As much as he didn't want to risk it - and he knew he would need to try to get over this insecurity about Kamenashi around Nishikido - he knew that having two people tell you the same thing was more believable.
That was how he had finally accepted things after all.
He had needed Nishikido's confirmation that they had both had the same dreams, the same recollections, before he had been able to finally, truly accept it.
But that didn’t mean that Yamapi felt comfortable with it.
He had wandered around for a while before finally ending back in the dorm. He supposed there was no avoiding it anymore. Kamenashi was probably back by now, and Yamapi would find out whether he would be seen as crazy or insane, or whether or not Kamenashi hated him for what he had done to him in another life.
Kamenashi was waiting for him when he got back to their dorm room.
It struck Yamapi as odd, considering how many times he had been the one waiting, holing himself up in the dorm like it was his only refuge, waiting for Kamenashi to get back - considering that, half the time, it had been because Kamenashi had been irritated at him.
The younger man was looking at him warily, hesitantly, but when Yamapi took only a step further into the room, Kamenashi got a strangely pleased look on his face for some reason.
“You’re not running away,” he remarked in a light tone.
Yamapi was taken aback; was that what Kamenashi had been so wary of just now? That he would run away? Yamapi would have been insulted if it weren’t for the fact that Kamenashi had ample reasons to be wary about that. Yamapi had spent most of his time running away from everything, hiding from the truth. He had hid his feelings when Kamenashi had told him about his, just to avoid the possibility of getting hurt. He had always taken a step back, not willing to tell anyone what was bothering him, just choosing to retreat into himself and his own problems rather than finding the courage to open up to someone.
But…for some reason, he didn’t feel like he had to run away anymore.
Maybe it was thanks to telling Kamenashi earlier. Telling Kamenashi, letting him know what a monster Yamapi had been once, had always been his biggest fear. Or, more like, it was having done something that would make Kamenashi hate and fear him that was his biggest fear. It had been one that was present since high school, maybe even junior high, when he had those flashes of images instead of nightmares.
Yamapi was done with running. He was fed up with it.
He sat down next to Kamenashi just to emphasize that - if only to himself.
“Ryo said you told him to talk to me,” Kamenashi said in a calm tone.
Yamapi wished he wasn’t calm; he could deal with anger, or hatred, or fear. He wasn’t sure how to deal with calmness. It felt like it would shatter at any moment, and then he would be lost.
“I did…”
“Why?”
Yamapi blinked, “Because it seemed like I was insane and I didn’t want you to think that I was making up some story. It seemed more likely for you to believe me if Nishikido talked to you too.”
Kamenashi was silent for a moment, before he looked up at Yamapi, “And so you could be away from me once I believed it and found out everything that you think you did?”
Yamapi winced at the think in that sentence. Did Kamenashi still not believe him?
“I believe it.” He said finally, “I wasn’t sure if you would. And…I guess that was also true, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face you and maybe…maybe find out that you hated me. I wouldn’t blame you,” he added quickly, “What I did - it was horrible.” He shuddered.
Kamenashi didn’t say anything to that, but when he looked up again, there was an emotion in his eyes that Yamapi knew all too well, “I didn’t need Ryo to tell me, even if it did make it easier to believe the second time around.” He added musingly, “It’s unbelievable, and I still can’t really wrap my head around it…”
Yamapi stiffened, “I know it’s…”
“Let me finish. It’s really unbelievable, but I saw how much you believed in it.” Kamenashi said finally, “I’m not sure I really understand this. I know I don’t understand this. I know that I should be calling you crazy. But…you believe in it enough…and…I’ve seen you having your nightmares. I’m not sure if I really believe them like you do. But, at the same time, there’s no part of me that’s rejecting what you said. Maybe it was because of what you said - that I was there, apparently.”
Yamapi stared at Kamenashi.
“I mean…I should be rejecting it. But I can’t. For some reason that I can’t explain, I believe you about this.”
Maybe this was the extent that Kamenashi would ever remember things? He wasn’t plagued with nightmares or memories, so maybe this was the most Kamenashi would ever remember? Little feelings that told him that Yamapi and Nishikido were telling the truth, so that just like them, he couldn’t deny the past.
“And about my reaction to it…” Kamenashi said when Yamapi seemed to sag with relief and get lost in his thoughts, “I told Ryo. He explained our…relationship…then,” he said with a bit of difficulty, “And before, the one that I remember. I was…okay, I was emotionally distraught at what he had told me. About how close we were. And especially when I realized how things could have been if he had never remembered anything.”
Yamapi winced, feeling a bit of his heart breaking already.
“He told me…but…and he agrees, even if I know he’s still hurt and disappointed, that I’m not the same person. I don’t remember being the lover of a lord’s heir. I don’t remember raising two children with him. I don’t remember anything. What he remembered of the…other me, I didn’t remember, and I went through a lot of emotional hell trying to live up to what he expected of me. He was so caught up in the past and what he thought he knew about me because of what he remembered. It wasn’t on purpose of course because, back then, he could barely differentiate between the one he remembered and the one he was with but…”
Yamapi swallowed, watching as Kamenashi’s expression changed to one of sadness.
“I don’t remember anything. So I can safely say that I don’t remember anything you did to me. So I can’t hate you. How can I hate you for something I don’t remember, right?” Kamenashi offered a shaky smile.
Yamapi could barely return it; his hands were shaking, just a little, as Kamenashi began to kill his fears right then and there.
His breath caught when Kamenashi moved to stand over him, his fingers running up Yamapi’s arms in a strangely comforting and distracting way,
“I like you. That’s what I know. I don’t remember anything so I…I can’t and won’t judge my relationships on what happened in a…past life,” he swallowed those words with difficulty, “I can’t…say for sure that we’ll be happy together, because I’m just like everyone else in the world. I don’t know what the future holds, and I shouldn’t. The future changes. There is no destiny set in stone. Ryo is proof of that…”
“So…” Yamapi could only breathe out.
“So, right now, what I know is that you’re the one I like that way. The only one I like that way.” Kamenashi said, “If you can accept that there’s no set happy ending, like you seem to think that…I used to have with Ryo…”
“I can.” Yamapi said quickly, heart beating faster, and relief washing over him. Then, it gave way to a happy feeling that was growing in his chest.
“Good then,” Kamenashi said, before he leaned forward, crushing Yamapi’s lips in a kiss. Then, Yamapi felt strong hands grip his wrists, before he was pushed and backed against a wall as the kiss deepened, “Because,” the younger man said with a smirk, “I plan to live my life the way I want to and nobody is going to tell me what to do with it. Not even…a form of myself, if that ever happens. This is my life.” He breathed out, his mouth not far from Yamapi’s.
Yamapi could only smile and mumble an agreement against Kamenashi’s lips.
--- THE END --
Note: hope you liked it!! :D