Trapped Behind Words: InuOkko

Chapter 5: Brother

Other than Gojo, no one had visited Yuta's apartment. The doorknob was still slightly loose from whatever the white-haired man had done to enter. However, it had rained enough the day before that the wooden door frame was swollen and held it in place.

Gojo had become a constant interference in his life - there wasn't a day the man left him alone. It was usually a text or a phone call where Gojo would clamor on about everything he had accomplished that day. Some of the details were outlandish, especially those where Gojo found himself encountering online personalities and celebrities.

Itadori followed closely behind Yuta. It was Gojo's idea for them to hang out, something Yuta wasn't completely opposed to, but he didn't expect Inumaki to ask for a visit. The blond had been texting off and on the entire week prior without any evidence of interest to see each other again until the meeting. All week Inumaki's clothes sat in a stack, waiting for an invitation or offer that didn't come until plans had been made.

The pink-haired Itadori was quiet as they entered, as if sneaking in after a night out. It was the first time he had been silent since they met, the opposite of being around Inumaki. When Yuta flicked on the extremely yellow ceiling fan, his shame was revealed. Embedded in the drywall were five razor blades, while the sixth lay on the scuffed vinyl floor next to a pair of pliers.

"Oh, so Gojo wasn't kidding," Itadori said.

"About what?" Yuta attempted to sound innocent but knew exactly what he was talking about.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are there razor blades in your wall?" Itadori sounded just as Gojo did, with less conviction and more curiosity.

There was no comment on the perfectly assembled coffee table made of cold dark wood consisting of two drawers. Neither was there a mention of the internet router that sat on the ground next to a blue fabric loveseat, which was thoroughly worn. A small lemon tree sat in a pot next to the door, and Itadori didn't even notice.

Inumaki would have done the same. Anyone would have. Rather than notice the furniture, beautiful thrifted vintage curtains, small television, or assorted house plants, anyone's attention would immediately be pulled to those blades. Inumaki knew that times had been tough for Yuta but actively sought to push those feelings away. That was why Yuta agreed to go to the carnival in the first place. That is why Yuta attempted to pull the blades out himself with minimal luck.

"Honestly?" Yuta blushed, embarrassed for the first time about the entire scenario.

"Yeah, I don't see why not. I won't judge you," Itadori looked at Yuta with a smile.

The pink-haired man was strange. He was warm, both literally and emotionally. It seemed like everything just rolled off him. The spiky-haired guy in the group yelled at him, and it was like nothing happened.

"I told most of the group this already. I tried to kill myself. A few times. Could never do it. Couldn't make myself," Yuta simplified the details to avoid becoming emotional.

"Ah, sorry to hear that," Itadori responded.

What an odd way to respond to an admission of self-harm. What would Inumaki have said? He could have written it in the journal he carried, but it was definitely wrong to invade that level of privacy. For a man without speech, writing was his only way of expression other than the beautiful art he made.

"I don't really know what else to say. My friend Junpei tried to as well. I pretty much said the same thing to him. He laughed at it when I did, so I was kind of expecting the same reaction from you," Itadori smiled with tense shoulders.

Yuta blushed, "Sorry, I'm just a little in my own head. That's all. Does Junpei live nearby?"

"No, he doesn't really live anywhere, I guess. He died a few months back," Itadori said.