You Belong To Me

Chapter 19

Hizashi's plan was an excruciating one. Battling with his own psyche all alone, weeks on end, forcing himself to eat when he could barely hold it down, just to add something to his body...

It felt impossible. But at least, at the end of the day, he had the motivation. If he wanted that goddamn high, he'd need to earn it.

Desperation sure is fun, isn't it.

Seeing his progress in the mirror kept him pushing through it. To see him looking like a person that Nemuri could be just a tiny bit proud of again.

To see his hair and eyes shine just a little bit more.

To see himself looking human again.

Nowhere near perfect but so much better than before. Hopefully Shouta wouldn't notice or think too much of him getting his life back. The progress was slow enough. He'd put on a show while Shouta was home, acting the same tired, weak way that he'd always been. At least, until the drugs did the work for him.

It was almost time. Hizashi was able to do basic exercise at this point, doing his best to recall the training that he'd done last time.

The training that Shouta helped him with, the first time.

Listen to what Old-Shouta told you. Not this one. The one that cared...

Do what your real friend says...

He paused, looking to the man sleeping on the ground beside him in the sleeping bag that Hizashi'd gifted him.

What made him change. I still need to figure that out...

Think...

The stressors are what causes people to change.

Kurogiri being Oboro... UA...

His heart dropped.

When I almost died.

Was... that what sparked this?

Hizashi's eyes softened upon looking at his friend, scooting just a tiny bit closer to him.

He's protecting me in the only way he knows how, but it just got so far out of control.

Keeping me in a state he knows that I'd willingly stay in if he just gives the first hit. But monitored. Keeping me here, protected from the world and myself all at once.

What drove him to sink this far...

Hizashi felt waves of sadness pass over him as he stared at Shouta. This was his friend. The man who'd saved his life, who'd loved him. They'd been inseparable since they were 15.

But now he'd have to leave him behind.

This isn't him. This isn't. He's gone. I don't know when the real Shouta died, but he did.

At least Shouta'd been refraining from cutting up his arms and hands lately. Partially because he'd ran out of room. Hizashi was grateful for the chance to heal.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been painless and sober at the same time.

Time to work on the next thing.

Picking up his guitar, he quietly started strumming whatever it was that he could remember, refreshing himself on all the techniques he'd had, eventually finding himself practicing with all his heart. Feeling alive again.

He felt Shouta's old soul in the guitar. That Shouta would tell him to keep getting better. That Shouta would be completely horrified and disgusted with what he became.

This guitar would be all he had for a while. He'd come to the decision to use street performing as a way to get money if he made it to the city alive.

His anxiety increased to a painfully high level the closer he felt to ready. His addictions were in full force, but at least he'd found a way to manage all of them. That's what mattered for now. If he could do that and then get to Nemuri, there was a chance at recovery.

Everything in him was screaming for him to stop.

To stay in his new home, where he'd never be at risk. Where he wouldn't have to leave his best friend...

He went to the bathroom, taking one final shower, praying that none of his wounds would get infected once he officially left.

All he could take with him was his guitar and what he could fit in the pockets of the baggy pants and jacket he'd grabbed. Thankfully the jacket had secret pockets on the inside. He slipped Shouta's knife into the hidden pocket.

Hopefully he didn't look too much like a hobo. It was a decent jacket, rather expensive too. Of course it was covered in dirt, but what wasn't anymore?

His pants were a dark blue and sagged a lot, so he had to take the string and tighten it as far as it would allow to keep them up.

Hizashi pulled on some fingerless gloves, grabbed antibiotics, hoisted his guitar case on his back, and grabbed as much as he could carry from the drawer to hold him by. He needed motivation to keep going, no matter what it was.

It was the best he could do.

He looked over at the clock. 7:52. Shouta had been gone for around an hour now, and he wouldn't be back here until maybe 5?

If he left now, there should be just the right amount of time for him to get to the city, where he'd be at least a little safe, compared to being the only thing in an almost endless field of grass.

Every step towards the door made his heart pound harder and harder, echoing in his ears. There didn't seem to be any rigged things on it, upon closer inspection. If there was one, it'd be the latch.

It locks from the outside right? I can't risk trying the lock anyway. I'll have to break the door.

So he did, using all the power he had to repeatedly slam into the thick wood. There was no way he'd have been able to break it prior to his training.

The fresh air hit him like a train, the warm summer wind blowing his damp hair around, the feeling of movement in his hair sending shivers down his spine.

He felt almost bewildered at how easy that was, compared to what he'd been expecting. Did Shouta really have that much faith in his plan?

Hizashi stood up all the way, feeling the heat soak into his skin, seemingly taking away the pain shooting up his ribs and shoulders from slamming against the door.

It filled his whole body, bringing genuine euphoria for the first time in...

He didn't want to think about how long.

Please, only a few months at the most... Please...

Maybe this was all the security he put in. There's no traps, no wires, nothing. He just kept me too weak to move.

He took several deep breaths of the fresh, morning air, not realizing how horrible the air quality of the bunker truly was.

"I... Did this..." he smiled, taking a step onto the grass. "I'm gonna get my fuckin' life back, no matter what."

He still felt a pain in his heart, though. He was leaving Shouta forever. There was no going back. This was his goodbye.

"He abused and manipulated me," Hizashi scolded at his thoughts, moving forward with purpose towards the distant city.

"No friend would do this. Ever. Shouta isn't the same. I have to go, and keep him out of my life forever."

More worries crept into his mind as he kept going, postly paranoia about what would happen if Shouta caught him. Then what? Where would I go that he wouldn't look... Or that I'd be safe with backup.

There's gotta be a way.

What if he kills me for this?

There has to be a way. This is possible.

Death is a better fate than that life, anyway.