ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

07

"talk to me."

"we have nothing to talk about, Kakucho."

"are you kidding me?" the man is in disbelief by the woman's cold disposition. after everything you all had been through together, through early teenage years of running from the police, being each other's refuge and foundation, bleeding for each other—was it just fruitless experiences for you?

    she was vile and selfish, he stops himself when the words had resounded in his head. he thinks of careful words to speak but he cannot find anything to say to you to calm and soften the distant behavior. back then, it had always been you who tried to get closer, careening into the small nitpick group of rowdy boys who were part of a more dangerous world.

    a world that is not for reluctant summer sweet girls like you who preferred red paint kissing your knuckles instead of the rustic blood of others.

    that was Kakucho's silent judgment of you when he first saw your shining eyes as you stuck a little closer to Izana when he was introducing you to the rest. he didn't understand his best friend's intentions at that time too, Izana Kurokawa was a menace who care not for others' well being more so for him to pick up a stray kid at some back streets of Tokyo. to think the silver would polish a mourning girl into a python that wrapped perfectly around his shoulders.

    suddenly, words escaped his lips before he can stop them. "i'm sorry."

    two words, so simple and short is all it takes for you to stop. his mismatched eyes sees the way your head slightly turns over your shoulder. "why are you apologizing?"

   "what wrong have you done to me Kakucho, for you to say sorry to me like that?" you respond with fervency, and he sees two carbon-struck irises now that you are facing him. your expression fraught and standoffish. gone was the concern and the care to find shelter from the rain, Kakucho let the innate raindrops drown him into ignition.

    "i—" he starts, stops, tucks his bottom lip beneath his front rows of teeth. "are you mad because of what happened?"

to this you raise a brow, not understanding what the man before you had said. that is until your eyes flash towards the time when you first met Tenjiku, after hearing of a sudden gang flooding through Shibuya station and targeting Toman members. after hearing that Izana was the leader, the Izana who had left you without any words or announcements, you were fueled with a somber rage that accumulated through your bones.

    after locating where they were and coming face-to-face with the person him again, and after having a huge argument with Izana—that was completely one-sided more than anything. in fact it was you who was spitting venom down the crook of your mouth whilst the daunting silver just stood there, taking in every harsh scrapes and every slotted insults and anger with a dull but soft look in his eyes.

    you had forgotten how that anger immediately coalescent into soft and trembling sobs, and how after seeing this, Izana places a hand behind your head letting you lean into his chest as he rubs the back of your hair soothingly, comforting you after leaving so suddenly, and fifteen year old you hated that feeling of abandonment, affection and dependency you felt towards him, you were regressing back to when you heavily depended on your brother. so you were scared, annoyed, terrified.

"i hate you." you tell Izana, your saddened expression turning grimmer.

"i know," it takes a second or two for him to answer.

    and those were the last exchanges you had and the last time you saw him. after that, everyone that you'd know from back then had left, bleeding slowly out of your bright life and it made your heart clenched, not being able to see them as much when Izana still stood as their leader, it's like everything crumbled. Kakucho in the hospital from a bullet wound, the remains of s62 back in juvenile and Izana who was no longer here, permanently.

your mind wanders, spins, swirls and suddenly today is the worst day you had felt in a very very long time, your heart racing with such overbearing vehemence. "stop it, Kakucho i'm leaving."

"just—atleast just for five minutes, please." he begs for the first time in years.

"i don't want to be involved with you anymore," you softened into a tired hush, you rubbed your temple, feeling irritating heat crawling up your mind. this time you are aware that you are just standing there beneath the rain but your clothes have been long drenched, you tsked.

"Kakucho it's been years, we were kids before but now we are adults. everything that happened before, it was all in the past. i was clingy and i didn't know that i was until he left me behind. i hate to get hurt like that again."

to that, you were walking away again. "this is goodbye—"

"y/n you didn't know?" Kakucho is baffled by your statement. "Izana that guy, he also lov—"

it was all so sudden, so rushed. one second he was standing then the next Kakucho's back is against one of the building walls. the air is knocked out of his frangible ribcage and his glasses topple against the wet cement. he can feel your breath against his neck, seeing your glare hardening. you grabbed a fistful of his wet collar, pulling until your faces are a hair's breadth away and barely feeling his soft petal lips against your own.

"i fucking dare you to say his name." you spit. "don't talk about him to me."