#i wish whoever at fox shut this down a warm pillow for the rest of their lives

[lovecolibri]

KR out here gaslighting us for years, saying we were seeing things, and stuff like the shooting and the will reveal weren't a big deal. Well.

I can't wait for Ryan to be able to speak! Once we get Buddie, a whoooole lotta tea is gonna come out and I am HERE for it.

[spicysoftsweet]

Chapter 10

Masterlist

tw death, vague suicidal ideation

When Kaksi woke up in the emergency room in the nearest hospital, confusion overtook her. It took a little while to get over her lightheadedness and the pain she felt from what she assumed was the injury that brought her here. It seemed that she was fine; however, the doctor had reassured her once examining her briefly.

Remembering how she had passed out, she was relieved to see familiar faces next to her. But seeing Chifuyu and Takemichi’s puffy red eyes and bruised faces was in no way comforting. She was afraid to ask what had happened.

“Where’s Kumi?” she inquired instead.

Takemichi took a moment before answering, wondering where to even begin when the girl would ask what had unfolded while she had been unconscious.

“She must be home by now.”

The silence was heavy but Kaksi needed answers, even though she was unprepared for them.

“What…” she hesitated. “What happened?”

Takemichi bit his lips, feeling a new wave of fresh tears coming, blurring his vision completely. Yet the most heartbreaking sight was Chifuyu’s trembling body as he started sobbing once again. A few tears rolled down Kaksi’s cheeks in response, shocked to see the happy boy she knew break down in front of her like this.

“I’m so sorry, Kaksi,” Takemichi said, voice breaking. “I couldn’t save Baji-kun.”

Kaksi bit her lip as her tears fell uncontrollably.

He couldn’t save Baji? What did he mean?

“What are you talking about?” she asked, the words barely coming out as her throat was tightening.

She only received the sounds of Chifuyu and Takemichi’s pain as an answer for a moment, making her feel like it was impossible to breathe.

“Baji didn’t make it,” Chifuyu choked out in between sobs. “He’s dead, Kaksi. I’m so sorry.”

Kaksi’s heartbeat was so awfully loud she felt like her ears should be bleeding.

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head and tasting her tears as she spoke.

Chifuyu, wishing that it wasn’t, couldn’t bear it anymore and decided to exit the emergency rooms. Takemichi didn’t stop him and stood by Kaksi’s bed wondering if there were any words of comfort he could give even though desperation was what ate away at everyone at that moment.

“Baji’s one of the strongest people I know,” she said, brown eyes staring into nothing. “He would never…”

She couldn’t say it, she couldn’t face it. Kaksi shook her head, wiping off her tears with the back of her hand. Maybe if she believed it hard enough, Baji would be out the door ready to make fun of her for passing out from a single punch.

---

Mitsuya paced slowly, his whole body aching just as much physically as much as he was emotionally, in the direction of Kumi’s house, with Kumi in his arms.

She had not wanted to leave, even when the police were approaching, meaning he had to all but rip her away from Baji’s body, throwing her over his shoulder as he ran with the rest of his crew, leaving just Kazutora and his dead friend behind.

She’d fought against him and then eventually tired out, crying so much that she’d even puked and it had just barely missed his shirt. Now she was fast asleep as though she had drunk heavily, and night was falling. He looked terribly suspicious; it was obvious he’d been in a fight and he looked miserable, plus he was carrying an unconscious girl in the street.

But he’d do it for her, for his friend who was clearly just as traumatized as he was right now. Neither of them could have foreseen things going this way.

Mitsuya knocked on the door of her house to see her father open the door, and the older man’s eyes widened then his lips pulled into an angry scowl as he took the two teenagers in.

Before he could start yelling, Mitsuya bowed as best he could with the load he was carrying.

“She’s fine, sir, I apologize for bringing your daughter back in this state. I promise she is okay and nothing has happened to her.”

He was partially right.

Kumi’s father all but snatched his daughter out of the young boy’s arms as her mother came over to inspect the young girl’s tear-stained face and hair matted with sweat and tears and vomit.

“She better be fine,” Kumi’s father muttered in a threatening tone. Her mother gave him a harsh look, then turned back to the young man and thanked him softly.

Maybe if he had known what Mitsuya had seen, he would have understood why Mitsuya said nothing more, and turned on his heels to go home as fast as he could.

---

Kumi did not show up to school for the rest of the week.

The first day her parents forgave her, knowing that whatever had happened had been significant enough if it had sapped her will to wake up in the morning, and as she lay wrapped up in a blanket in a dark room, they watched over her carefully, coaxing her to speak with soft words and warm meals to no avail. Kumi neither looked at them, nor her phone, just periodically at the picture of Baji and her, just a day ago stuffed in her drawer out of irritation, and now lain beside her in her bed.

The second day, her mother begged her to come down for meals at the very least and after several minutes of pleading, gave up and brought soup up to her room instead. When she returned a couple hours later, the soup was no longer untouched, and so her mother was thankful that she’d at least eaten. She tried her luck again at asking her if she wanted to talk, and though Kumi used her voice for once, all she said was ‘no.’

The third day, her father dragged the covers off of her at the crack of dawn in time for class and gave her an ultimatum the moment she stirred, eyes puffy from crying overnight.

“Either you tell us what happened so I can punish whoever’s responsible or you go to school as usual if you want to act like nothing happened.”

Her father’s voice was stern, even if it was out of an abundance of love and fear.

Kumi continued to stare at the wall, and her father, angry as he thought of the millions of awful things that that young man with the lilac hair who brought back his puke-covered daughter could have done to her, clenched his fists where he stood.

“You will not continue to ignore us! Your mother is worried sick,” he said, reaching over to turn her so that she faced him.

“Leave me alone!” She shrieked, and her father recoiled, shocked at the distress in her voice. Kumi had always been an obedient child, and now she shook like paper in her bed, curling up against the wall into fetal position. Her father noticed the picture now on the other side of her bed, and picked it up taking a good look at it, and was instantly infuriated.

“Is this all over a boy?”

Kumi grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself. She said nothing.

Her father groaned, resisting the urge to tear up the picture to prove to her that any breakup at this young age was meaningless, but then placed it back down on her desk instead. He took a deep breath, then sat down on the edge of her bed, finally softening his voice.

“Did anyone hurt you?” He asked. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear any other answer than no.

She shook her head no, and he sighed in relief. He placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it.

“Sweetheart, I know it hurts but boys come and go.”

It was the worst thing he could have possibly said at that moment, and because Kumi was still facing the wall, he didn’t realize how badly he had renewed her anguish. Her legs curled up and she nodded slowly, holding her tears as her father, none the wiser, kissed her atop the head and rubbed her back again.

“It’s his birthday today, and I can’t celebrate it with him,” she whispered with sobs. Her father gave her another pat on the head.

“There will be other birthday parties you can go to, honey, it’s okay.”

Kumi swallowed something like acid in her throat. He had no idea.

“You’re going back to school first thing tomorrow, okay darling?” Her father added, believing in his heart of hearts that he’d helped fix the problem.

The moment he stepped out, she buried her face into the pillow, and sobbed anew.

On day four, Kumi woke up early in the morning, slightly dizzy from multiple days of crying and poor hydration and missed sun, and willed herself to get ready for school.

As she made her way to the kitchen, her parents looked at her warily as she sat at the breakfast table.

“Good morning, honey, would you like anything special for breakfast?” Her mother asked, still hovering over the stove. Her father glanced at her hopefully over the morning newspaper and a cup of coffee.

The desire to either rewind time or disappear entirely from the face of the earth occurred to her for a split second, but she settled for asking for an omelet. Something simple that would go down her sore throat without resistance.

She sat at the table without an additional word, picking at her eggs with a fork once the steaming meal was set in front of her.

She paused, and then tears ran down her cheeks, yet again.

“Kumi…”

She wiped her tears roughly and then shoveled eggs into her mouth, barely chewing before she swallowed. Her mother was by her side in moments, and her father, at wit’s end set down his newspaper, unsure of what to do.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t… I can’t seem to stop,” Kumi croaked out of embarrassment as her mother hugged her. “I’ve been trying to stop… It just hurts too much.”

“What hurts, darling?”

Before she could muster anything to explain, there was a sudden knock at the door. It was probably too early in the morning for normal visitors, and Kumi’s father rose to get the door.

At the door was a harried woman he had never seen before, with dark, wavy hair and fox-like brown eyes tied in a messy ponytail. She looked like she was well into middle age but gracefully so and her body seemed to shake as he opened the door, and when she looked up to meet his eyes, her gaze was even more clouded than his daughter.

“Is this the right home? I was told that this was where Kumi-chan lived?” The lady’s voice was husky as though she were sick or had just smoked, and her words cracked as she spoke.

The strange occurrences were accumulating far too quickly and Kumi’s father, taking in the stranger’s disheveled appearance in jeans and a t-shirt, was starting to become overwhelmed. His first impulse was to politely lie, but before he could come up with a word to say, Kumi pushed her way past him and into the woman’s arms.

“I’m sorry, I should have done something,” she cried, and the woman held her, crying softly too as she stroked her hair. “I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t do anything, I-”

Baji’s mother nodded while her own parents stood in dumbfounded shock.

“Please come to the funeral, Kumi-chan,” she said finally, squatting to meet her at eye level, a sad smile on her face. It pained her to look at this little girl who clearly loved her son so much, and it pained Kumi to look at his mother, who looked so much like him. “He would have wanted you to be there.”

Kumi felt bile rise in her throat, but nodded her head emphatically, wiping her tears.

“We’ll bury him tomorrow.”

---

Kaksi found that her response to her friend’s death setting in was numbness rather than tears.

It was an odd sensation, but it was welcome. She felt like once she got past that numbness, the intensity of her true feelings would be too much to bear. So for however long it lasted, she decided there was nothing wrong with pretending everything was fine even when her mother would point out she was incredibly quiet this morning, barely finishing her breakfast.

She found that her facade was crumbling much faster than anticipated, however. Not seeing Kumi’s face at school left her alone with her thoughts and it was crying in the bathroom that she realised she would not get back the friend she lost. The only person keeping her company those days was Chifuyu as they exchanged messages back and forth. He had eventually told her everything that had unfolded before the girls had arrived by her request, and she felt bad for reminding him what had happened.

Kaksi worried about her best friend but didn’t go to see her, fearing that her presence wouldn’t do her any good in those difficult times, barely handling her emotions herself. Then, by the time she received an invitation to Baji’s funeral, she had decided she couldn’t keep the truth away from her family. They had been shocked, knowing the face of the boy she had mentioned and while they remained supportive, everyone could only acknowledge that there wasn’t much to do anymore.

Chifuyu had informed Kaksi about Kazutora’s whereabouts, assuming she would like to talk to him while he was still detained before being sentenced. However, she was too upset to even think about him, so she figured she would visit once she would have calmed down a little bit.

Kaksi saw Kumi’s face for the first time after Baji’s death the day of his funeral, they kept close to each other and talked a little bit but there was barely anything to say as the weight of what was happening crushed the two girls. Kaksi found that looking at Baji’s body and expressionless face surrounded by flowers was a sight she could barely stand, breaking down into tears as she approached him.

She wept as quietly as she could, returning to her seat next to her friends. Sharing her pain in different ways, Chifuyu rubbed her arm before handing her a tissue while Kumi kept her hand in hers.

Kumi found that by the time the funeral rolled around she had truly run out of energy to weep.

The girl was completely expressionless as she stared at the Baji family grave at the end of the ceremony, despite still holding her friend’s hand as they stood together.

The lack of tears shed by her was becoming startling by now to Kaksi and the rest of the gang but Kumi continued to stare blankly at the stone as well as the flowers she’d just set down among the tons he’d received from family and other friends.

There was a fleeting moment where she considered that dying herself would be better than being in this much pain, and Kaksi, as though she could feel the turmoil ripping through her insides, squeezed Kumi’s hand. It was a gentle reminder that she would always be there.

“We should go, it’s late,” she said, with a sad smile.

Kumi didn’t argue and started to move on Kaksi’s cue. Takemichi had told her just minutes before that Baji had apologized at the end for hurting her, even if it had been too quiet for her to hear. Hearing this almost replaced her lack of emotion with rage for a fleeting moment but she did nothing but nod that she understood in response. It didn’t matter if he was sorry - she didn’t give a rat’s ass if he was sorry. She wasn’t sure she could forgive him for dying at all.

Did that mean he’d cared about her after all or was he trying to make penance with the gods for bullying her before he made his transition? Kumi kept seeing the knife in his hand in her mind’s eye and wondered if he hated her so much, he had preferred to die than to be honest with her.

Was she making this about her? She sighed, and took another glance at Baji’s mother, whose face remained swollen and puffy and red as she stood to the side, managing the guests despite looking as though she’d collapse any second, then bowed to her. She had only had her and her son in the world.

“You can come by anytime to talk,” the woman offered. Kumi nodded and thanked her genuinely in appreciation.

But she’d never take up that offer.

By the next week, her parents had transferred her to the countryside to live with her grandmother, admitting that they were wholly unequipped to deal with the second phase of her depression, apathy. A change of scenery was meant to help, and they prayed that it would. For the sake of their daughter and their daughter’s future.

Kumi knew she was leaving but neglected to say bye to anyone.

Not even to Mitsuya, who she loved like a brother nor to Kaksi, who might as well have been her twin flame.

Kumi opted instead to disappear, the way Baji had asked her to, just days before he died.