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Adjusting to Takumi's body comes with more obstacles than Eito had anticipated.
Defeating Takumi is one thing, but even so, Takumi isn't truly gone. Not in the way Eito wishes he was.
He has to keep the act up, pretend to be the one he loathes the most and not flinch when those eyesores look up to him in anticipation. He'll enjoy it all the more once he will eradicate them all, when they least expect it, in due time.
Eito has to resist telling people he's going to kill himself at any slight inconvenience. Takumi might have been the team leader, but half of the SDU treats him more like an errand boy. It makes him want to return to Takumi's suicide mission.
He indulges, sometimes. It's like rinsing the mug again to make sure it's fully clean. It makes him feel closer to that joined hate, watching Takumi spiral in the most gratifying way.
Takumi's body still feels like a shoe that's the wrong size and then there's his awful friends. Especially Yugamu gets on his nerves and Eito can't flinch when he's just a little too close for comfort. Takumi's body betrays him like an unwilling participant.
Acting incompetent enough not to raise suspicion is easy. The problem is that Eito is deeply and utterly bored. Takumi's schedule is brain-numbing and empty. If Eito doesn't find anything to distract himself with he's going to have to develop a secret suicide schedule again to stay sane.
Since that's the less ideal course of action, Eito settles with long walks. It doesn't seem to bother the others that he's heading out alone. He'll spin a story about having nightmares and it grants him pitiful glances before they let him have his way.
Yes, Eito was such a horrible burden, wasn't he? We are all so glad you got rid of him, Takumi.
He's on a walk again today when his path leads him to a building he hasn't seen before. It looks like an abandoned lab, most of all, it looks like something to kill time with.
He keeps the lab to himself and starts studying the machine. The more he does, the more confused he gets.
The machine seems to operate on bloodspace waves creating leap windows that open at certain intervals, allowing travel between those bloodspaces. What exactly those bloodspaces are, Eito isn't entirely sure. But his curiosity discards any regard for safety in the dawn of dying of boredom and repulsion.
So he waits for one of those leap windows to open, follows the instructions about the suits hidden in the lockers and sets up the platform. He hits the button and a bright light engulfs him, briefly making him feel dizzy.
It stops as soon as it started.
Eito frowns and takes the helmet off. Everything looks exactly the same. Did it work? He removes the suit and steps outside of the lab.
Nothing looks out of the ordinary. It appears this has been a huge waste of his time.
Sighing, he slowly starts walking without a destination in mind. He doesn't feel like heading back to the academy yet, so he lets his feet find their own way. He's best when he's on his own, anyway.
There's nobody else out here. At least there shouldn't be. And yet Eito stops, frozen to the spot, a person dressed in white walking on the horizon. He tries to push his glasses up and remembers he's not wearing any. Instead he rubs his eyes.
The person doesn't look like a repulsive flesh blob. No, it's a perfectly normal human, walking down the street, away from the academy grounds.
Eito blinks slowly. That person... is himself.
The white clothes, the silver hair, the black shoes. He doesn't understand what he's looking at. Not even his mirror image was capable of having a life of its own.
Before he knows it, his body has started to move by itself. He's running, faster and faster and a hand outreached to that person that looks so clear in the sea of monsters.
"Hey! Wait!" he calls out.
The person stops walking. They stand, tilting their head, before turning back to face him.
And Eito stops out of a full run, shoes sliding and skipping over the street.
His very own face is looking back at him. But the glasses on this Aotsuki's face are tinted dark and their eyes don't quite meet properly. He can't see past the shades at all.
"Takumi-kun? No... It can't be. You can't be Takumi-kun. Are you somebody else? I mean no harm. Please just let me pass by in peace."
Eito stares. It feels like a fantasy, his reflection sprung to life. How many times he dreamed out that as a child just to have a friend that didn't make his skin crawl.
His voice is crystal clear, his scent beautiful and fresh and his skin spotless. No pus, no ooze, no gaping holes, no split jaws with too many teeth or bulging eyes. He's immaculate in every sense of the word.
Eito trembles when he raises his hands. Skin against skin, of course, wearing gloves would be too suspicious. He caresses Aotsuki's face, stunned that he allows it.
"Your eyes..." he mumbles.
The other Aotsuki tilts his head. "Takumi-kun? Are you Takumi-kun? You're acting strange. Is this a test? Okay. I trust you."
Eito gently pushes up those glasses and exhales in mute horror. Two empty eye sockets stare back at him. Two deep abysses with more and more questions spilling from within.
It reeks of his own desperation. Yes, considering where he came from, this seems like something he would do.
But why?
Maybe his conclusions weren't that far off the mark. But finding out about the truth of the planet wasn't enough to drive him that far. Why should it? He doesn't give a damn about humanity.
Just what happened to this other him? Did Takumi take him back, torture him for information and then discard him?
But if that was the case... Why does he lean into his touch with a soft hum, tears welling at the edges of those empty sockets, his lips wobbling? Why does he look so relieved to be with ‘Takumi’?
"Did you want to make sure I was truly leaving? Don't worry. I wouldn't disappoint you again."
Eito slowly sets the shades back down. "Again?" he echoes.
"I knew getting rid of my defective eyes wouldn't be enough. I am not that self-absorbed, you know? I did it for myself."
‘Defective’?
Eito recoils like he's been bitten. Just what did Takumi do to this Aotsuki?
"Where are you headed?" he asks, trying to ground himself by poking his thumbs into his palms.
"Second to Last... I figured I won't bother anyone there until the final attack."
Eito blinks. This him, this Aotsuki... he's settled on dying. He knows himself well enough, so he can tell. He aims to be razed by those flames. For that filthy putrid Takumi who defiled him to his own amusement?
"No."
He doesn't ponder his choice. It's an instinct, a primal urge. He reaches out and grabs Aotsuki's hand.
"I don't want this."
"I told you not to feel sorry—"
Eito doesn't listen. He pulls and Aotsuki trips, before he gives up the resistance and follows him.
Eito doesn't slow down for him, despite his tripping and staggering. Aotsuki doesn't complain. He knows he wouldn't either. He wouldn't stop if he did complain.
This is revenge twice over against Takumi.
Something about that machine shifted the timeline, just like Takumi said way back. This seems to be a timeline where he'd been spared. It's a far cry from the person he used to be, the person he is now.
But there's an itch in the back of his head that begs to be scratched. He wants to know what could have possibly changed in those days that branched off his own death. He used to think he was pretty resistant to torture, so what did Takumi do to break him?
He leads Aotsuki into the lab and grabs a spare suit.
"Put this on."
Eito pushes the suit into his hands but Aotsuki doesn't move. Eito checks the display. They don't have much time to make their way back.
"What is this, Takumi-kun?"
Eito pauses. Something inside his chest resists telling him the truth. He grinds his teeth and sighs.
"There's been a chemical attack. We have to take a detour back."
"But they won't want me back at the academy."
He's not wrong. Eito can't bring him back to the SDU. He's dead in his own timeline and after his endurance match with Takumi, each and everyone of those filthy SDU eyesores would slaughter Aotsuki like a lamb.
"I'll come up with something."
He can't leave him here. Not only with the threat of the final attack, but also the fact he might be killed by invaders. Eito could discard him at any point after he's got his intel. He has no further attachment to this other him, so revoltingly submissive and shaking with desperation.
"Okay. I trust you, Takumi-kun."
You shouldn't.
Aotsuki gingerly complies and struggles with the suit. Eito has to help him, making sure everything is set up tight. Then he dresses in his own suit.
The next moments would decide if this was a good idea at all. He doesn't quite know how the bloodspaces work. He should probably not be here. He's read all kinds of stuff about doppelgangers when he was younger, but he never considered there was any possibility of it becoming real.
He pushes the thought aside. He's not looking to be understood anymore. He's not even himself. He's stuck in a red haired husk that still hasn't been renovated to his liking.
Eito takes Aotsuki's hand, leading him up to the platform and presses the button. Aotsuki's gloved hands both take his bare one and Eito can feel him tremble. It's like he's holding something precious when he knows how repulsive this touch must be to him.
He turns his head. How far he'd fallen from grace. He won't entertain sparing any pity for that fake him.
Once the machine powers down in his own timeline, Aotsuki sways. Eito takes the helmet off and for an awful moment it seems like he's going to throw up.
"Sorry, Takumi-kun. Am I causing too much trouble?" Aotsuki holds his head, looking more than unwell.
Eito sneers. He doesn't respond and Aotsuki just stands there, letting him take off the suit. He doesn't ask any questions and Eito is grateful for it.
Leaving the lab, he grabs Aotsuki’s wrist and drags him along.
The hospital seems to be his best bet. It's secluded enough that nobody should be wandering out here and several stories high so nobody would end up walking in on Aotsuki, humans or invaders alike.
Aotsuki keeps tripping over the staircase while they ascend. It's ironic to place him here. In a way he thinks it serves him right.
"It'll make do."
Eito releases his grip on him. There's a dusty bed in the room and medical supplies scattered all around. He should probably move those away so he wouldn't trip over those too.
"What's in your bag?" he finally asks. Aotsuki has been clutching that thing the entire time.
"Hm? A bomb!" He beams and Eito's lips part, only producing an exasperated exhale. "Sirei gave it to me, in case I get cornered."
Of course he did.
Eito balls his fist in anger and breathes in through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry." Aotsuki offers him the bag. "You don't have to house me out of pity."
Pity.
Like Eito would pity this abomination of himself, whatever the hell happened to him.
Disgusting.
Repulsive.
Domesticated and subdued.
He says none of these things and takes the bag.
"It's not pity."
I would hate hearing that.
"It's duty."
I start sounding like Takumi.
He ducks his head in shudders.
"There's no need for this anymore."
If anyone kills you, it'll be me.
He guides Aotsuki to the bed and starts cleaning up to order his thoughts.
Something happened in that timeline. Something drastic. Eito's mind itches for answers but he forbids himself to relent. He only wants to know what Takumi did and then he'll get rid of Aotsuki. Maybe he'd go back to that timeline and kill Takumi himself.
"When Sirei sent me off," Aotsuki starts.
Eito stops in his tracks, involuntarily, not making any noise, but Aotsuki still nods slightly.
"I asked for peaceful memories with all of you."
He thinks I am his timeline's Takumi, Eito concludes.
It's an insult. He throws a bunch of syringes into the trash.
"In that fake memory, we were all in the Leisure Lounge. Laughing and playing. You and Yugamu-kun were playing volleyball with me. I've never played a team game with friends before. It's the happiest I've ever been."
Eito's heart thuds. He glances at Aotsuki, who is sitting there calmly, hands neatly in his lap and legs swinging off the bed.
"I wonder if we could have ever been like that. Together, united," Aotsuki muses with so much longing in his voice that Eito is sure he could shatter it if he hit the air.
"Why would you want that?" he blurts out before thinking.
Aotsuki tilts his head up to the ceiling. His hair falls back and Eito can see the edges of his empty eye sockets peeking past his sunglasses.
Aotsuki sighs and stops shifting.
"Because all this artificial anger is what truly blinded me. All I ever wanted was to see your beauty. And I was too late."
Something stirs uncomfortably inside Eito's chest. Maybe it's Takumi's useless body being swayed by a docile Aotsuki ready to be executed by his hand. Something about that man fills him with repulsion. Makes him fantasize about balling his hands into fists and hammering them into his face until the tender meat turns red and yellow and bruises purple and black.
It would serve him right, he thinks. Destroy that fantasy image of perfect Takumi, putrid selfish hateful Takumi that cast him away like a sick dog he didn't have the guts to put down.
And yet Aotsuki would cry and thank him, plead for more, starved like the parasite he is. He should be ashamed for stooping so low.
"I've gotta go."
It's a lie so blatant even he himself would recoil. He has nowhere to be but he has to go, has to leave, bring distance between himself and this thing, this fake, this imposter.
He kicks the rest of the trash aside lazily and dusts off his hands. He's going to have to shower later. Hot, scalding hot, peeling off his skin.
"Okay, Takumi-kun."
His voice is gentle. It sends a shiver over Eito's spine.
What happened to you?
To us?
Why would we do this?
He doesn't ask. He can't ask because he doesn't want the answers. Answers he already has a bunch of what they could entail.
Because it would mean that getting rid of Takumi once and for all was wrong. The hate they shared was for nothing. No, he couldn't let that be destroyed by soft hands too timid to reach for their weapon anymore.
"You'll come back, won't you?"
Eito stands in the door. He can feel those empty eye sockets staring at him. Deep voids full of things he doesn't understand and ink that can't be spilled.
"I will," he says and the thought nauseates him.
Aotsuki is his responsibility now. If he doesn't bring him food he'll starve, because he knows he will obey any command he gives him. This Aotsuki reeks of devotion, of desperation far beyond anything Eito has ever felt.
He can almost feel them — those gloved fingers. They want to reach for him, curl into these wretched clothes, beg and plead him to stay.
It's what he would have done. A different him, terrified and so starved for affection, for someone to turn on their heels to take his side.
Nobody like that exists. Not here, not in Aotsuki's timeline. His Takumi was the same kind of selfish monster as his own.
And yet he can't shatter that fragile heart of his. The only comfort he had left was himself.
"Stay here." Eito grabs the bag. "Do not answer for anyone but me."
"Okay, Takumi-kun."
Eito steps out of the room. Takes the stairs down, faster and faster until he's running, fleeing that cursed building.
He hates it.
He hates it hates it hates it.
He runs towards the academy, faster and faster and faster. His lungs burn and he does not stop. The undying flames come into view and he keeps up the pace until the last moment before he digs his heels into the ground and launches the bag into the flames.
It explodes and the blast pushes hot air into Eito's face. It burns. He closes his eyes, opens his arms and his lips curl into a smile.
That's right, ugly Takumi-kun. I can still torment your body. I can still pretend you're here.
He blinks and his momentary glee falters.
"We're both pretending, aren't we?"
Takumi does not answer.
"He calls out to you, not to me."
Aotsuki's Takumi does not answer either.
Eito wraps his arms around his body and turns. It's better that way. Takumi killed him and he'll hold onto his grudge forever. He's stuck inside his defiled body now until the end of his days.
But his thoughts wander while he walks back to the academy, where worried distorted voices would greet him.
Fingers itching to trace along the outline of hollow eye sockets. The scent of antiseptic and blood. That clear voice on a moonlit night.
He hates him.
Aotsuki is weak and pathetic.
But he's the most beautiful thing Eito has ever seen. Not just a mirror image to console him. He can't predict his movements, when his mouth would open and what words he would hear when he speaks.
Takumi is gone, but somehow he's not alone anymore.
What is this emotion? Grief? No, it can't be. Not for a filthy monster like Takumi. He got what he deserved and Eito got what he never got to have.
But he's still pretending. Everything is always pretending. He doesn't have to pretend with Aotsuki. No, he knows him best of all.
At sunrise he'll return to the only person who could ever understand his loneliness.
~
It should have been easy. Truly easy.
Interrogate Aotsuki and dispose of him.
Eito knows that he has information. Aotsuki knows something Eito wants to know. Aotsuki knows something Eito doesn't want to know. He doesn't ask because he's afraid. The chance that killing Takumi had been wrong. It can't be.
At the core of it, Eito thinks, loving and hating someone might be the same thing. It's a good explanation for Aotsuki's behavior. He's confusing his hate for love.
Eito can't concentrate on the play pretend and defensive battles anymore. His mind is elsewhere. Stuck on ghosts, alive and dead.
He returns and returns and keeps returning to that hospital that lost all the eeriness with Aotsuki living there.
He pushes up those shades and traces his hands along the outline of empty eye sockets. Yes, it's something he would do. Deep down he knows. A phantom signature of something he's never done himself but undoubtedly carries his handwriting.
"Where are they?" he asks, like Aotsuki could just produce his eyes out of his pockets for Eito to stuff them back into those empty voids.
"But you know, Takumi-kun," Aotsuki huffs, almost reverently, "I crushed them under my heel. It felt good."
Eito's hands freeze, clutching his face too hard. He wants to bash his skull in. He wants to strangle him and choke him and make him regret casting away his righteousness, their righteousness.
His teeth grind and his fingers start to bruise tender skin underneath.
Aotsuki does not flinch. His eyelids flutter close as if it was praise.
"I didn't do it for you," he says and Eito releases his grip on him, "I did it for myself. Only myself. So don't go blaming yourself. I have plenty of other things in mind you can blame yourself for."
Despite himself, Eito presses out a laugh. "Like what?"
"Well... For making me feel this way about a putrid monster like you."
Eito reels away. Long lashes blink over hollow eye sockets, tucking them in behind closed eyelids.
"Is it very unsightly? Please give me back my glasses." Aotsuki's nose scrunches up. His lips are slightly parted and his hand outreached into nothing. "Takumi-kun?"
Eito can't stand his presence anymore. He shoves the glasses into his hands and ignores the look of betrayal on his features. He turns on his heels and leaves, and Aotsuki does not call out to him.
~
"Ready for another, Aotsuki?"
Takumi's face contorts into a deranged smirk. Eito can feel it, the merging. Takumi's humanity is slipping away from him and gives in to primal desire.
To harm. To hurt.
Like the vile human he is.
"Do you think you can get rid of me this way?" he taunts.
Takumi doesn't falter. Eito can feel a strange energy radiate from within him.
"It doesn't matter what I think. I won't stop. I will not stop at anything until you give in. Until you're gone."
Dimly, Eito realizes the energy he felt isn't Takumi's. It's how own. A fragile piece of glass in Takumi's hand, cutting his palm, his skin, his muscle. Takumi clutches harder and harder and harder until the shard starts to crack.
He's scared. He's downright terrified.
But it's not death he fears most.
It's the loneliness that will follow, after Takumi was the only person to ever embrace him at his worst. To return his hatred in a way that would compel Eito to mistake it as love.
"This isn't how I want it to end," Eito says while Takumi bleeds on the floor.
"I'm not asking what you want," Takumi says.
He dies, then. Pain and pain and pain. He dies a hundred deaths and Eito's heart beats in sync. The ache, the strain, the visceral pulse of blood and gore. Eito feels more alive with each time Takumi dies, and feels that brain of his deteriorate until his spirit breaks at last.
And then there's nothing. Eito doesn't feel anything. Only a numb sense of being, the weight of a body that's not his own and eyes that are still as broken as before.
He jolts awake, soaked in cold sweat, inside Takumi's room.
"Takumi-kun?" he calls out, panting.
He gets no response.
Maybe the haunting lies in the absence of something substantial. Not of Takumi himself, of course not. Eito hates him. Eito wanted him gone and he got what he wanted. No, it's the absence of a purpose, of that driving hatred. Of that pain. The burn of cuts on their body, the impact of their head shattering on solid ground. The hissed back and forth between gritted teeth.
Eito should be happy. He fulfilled his goal, he defeated Takumi and took hold over his body. But even with him gone he's still there, mixed with his mind and consciousness, always there in his distorted peripheral vision.
This body will never be truly his. He thought it wouldn't matter but the vessel feels worthless without that shared hate between them.
He thinks of another version of him, lonely and blind in that old hospital building. The desperation in a brittle voice to be accepted, to be spared again and again and again. There's hands clinging to him from a distant past where Takumi made a different choice.
Aotsuki's Takumi had a kinder heart. Where did their paths go awry? What ignited between him that set Aotsuki's Takumi ablaze?
Was that love, in the absence of hate entirely? It was beautiful. It was repulsive. So utterly grotesque, so mesmerizing.
And yet it hurts, it aches, it leaves him restless. If this is what he wanted, then why does it fill him with so much regret?
Eito falls back into the pillow, heart thundering inside his chest. No matter how much he fantasizes, Takumi would stay buried in that grave inside his own consciousness.
~
When he returns to the hospital, Aotsuki greets him like a dog waiting for his owner to return. He would wag his tail if he had one, pleading with Eito to grab his leash to walk him.
He doesn't seem to move around much. Maybe it's because of the unfamiliar terrain. It's good, truthfully. Less chance for him to attract any sort of attention to himself. Less chance to hurt himself. Not like Eito cares.
They sit, side by side on that uncomfortable hospital bed, and eat. Eito brought sandwiches. Cut neatly into triangles.
Aotsuki inspects his—traces a finger over the edge, leans in like he expects a response. Rubs his cheek against the texture and Eito can only sneer.
He would not act that way. Perhaps Aotsuki had suffered a lobotomy to act so juvenile.
"How did you know?"
It's a simple question Aotsuki asks and Eito can't answer.
I am you, he cannot say.
What is he so afraid of? Of Aotsuki falling apart? Serves him right. He should break him. He deserves it. Whatever he had, it belongs to him too. He wants to have it. He is sick of feelings this way.
"I thought you'd like it."
It's all he can respond and Aotsuki smiles.
"It feels funny."
Eito does not reply. He's not feeling hungry anymore.
"I'm glad."
Aotsuki believes that Takumi cares. He never put in the thought, and Eito realizes how easy it is to give in to simple attempts of accommodation. Would he fold so easily to, met with a simple shred of kindness?
~
It gets harder to differentiate himself from Aotsuki as the days pass on. Sometimes Takumi is so vivid in his mind that Eito almost expects him to resurface again, to regain control and to bring back that spark to Eito's life.
He wonders if Takumi influences his choices. The automatic nod when Nozomi walks past him, the blush across his face when Yugamu calls him cute. Locking Aotsuki up in the hospital. Was it any different than the cage? He's keeping him there for his entertainment.
It's Takumi's fault.
He doesn't deserve that.
Takumi remains inside his blood like a parasite, a tumor that returns no matter how many times Eito brutally cuts it out. When will it ever end? He can't bear it anymore.
Eito kills himself again and doesn't feel any better. The pressure does not fade.
It's Takumi's fault.
He wishes he'd come back.
He wishes he'd stay gone.
He wishes they never met at all.
~
Aotsuki notices something is wrong and Eito says nothing. With each day the well fills with more water and yet Aotsuki greets him each time with the same warmth. He doesn't care that the water levels are rising. Doesn't the moon love the tide, like it's only natural?
Eito wonders what this feels like to him, set up in a place he must hate with the person he thinks discarded him. Is this love? It can't be any more comforting than a straightjacket.
~
"Can we go out to watch the stars?"
Eito frowns.
He's late today. The enemy battle kept him stuck at the academy.
Aotsuki didn't complain. Way too happy for him to return at all, he smiled and kicked his feet while eating his sandwich on his shabby hospital bed.
"You can't see," he says bluntly, because Takumi would say it.
Aotsuki scoffs. "Has your imagination gone missing? Maybe I'd just like some fresh air."
Eito figures he could grant him that much. He hadn't let him leave ever since bringing him here.
Instead of walking out the front door, Eito leads Aotsuki up to the roof. He tries not to let his struggles with the stairs show.
Eito slows just a little. Tripping and breaking his neck wouldn't do him any good.
The door to the roof is rusty and needs a kick to swing open. Aotsuki doesn't let go of his hand when they step outside. It's a clear night, just a little on the colder side, and Aotsuki tilts his head up as if he was looking.
"How are the stars tonight, Takumi-kun?"
It's a dumb question. There's only darkness in Aotsuki's world and that was his own fault.
"In the sky," he returns.
Aotsuki hums with subtle amusement. "Is the Satellite still bright? I wonder how they could sit up there in their cozy homes, not shedding a thought about our pain."
Eito pulls his hand away. Aotsuki stretches his own out to the sky.
"Do the stars still shine, Takumi-kun? How could they still shine for someone like me?"
"Why does it matter?"
It comes out harsher than intended.
Aotsuki recoils.
"I understood the beauty of being with you far too late."
"There's no beauty in this." Eito balls his hand to a fist. "It was never meant to be."
"Harsh. I understand how you feel. Why welcome me back? I had the same thoughts, but I struggle to understand why you came for me if you still hate me so much."
Eito doesn't understand. Takumi's hate for him used to be something precious, something worth thriving for. In hatred he felt like Takumi finally saw him, understood him at his core. Raw and unmasked and so incredibly ugly like the repulsive human core they shared.
"I truly hated you." Aotsuki's voice gets carried away by the wind like a shooting star. The light of the Satellite reflects in his dark shades, sparkles there like stardust in front of hollow voids. "I loathed, despised, hated..."
He drags in a deep breath and falls silent. The next noise that comes out of his mouth is a choked up sob.
"Would it make you happy if I fell off the roof? Removed myself from your side as intended? I do not care anymore. There's nothing righteous about me. All I want..."
Eito has heard enough. Whatever it is Aotsuki wants to tell him, he doesn't want to know. Maybe part of him is afraid to know. How his heart could have evolved to be drawn towards the very person he wanted to strangle between his own hands.
He imagines what it would be like to shatter Aotsuki's world right here. Tell him that he choked the very life out of Takumi until his soul broke and disappeared. In another timeline, Aotsuki desperately reaches for a Takumi that rejected him. It is far too obvious to Eito. Takumi never deserved him. Not this version of himself, not himself, or any other him.
And yet he knows a part of him whispers that it's not true. The craving, the desperation, it's too visceral. All Eito ever wanted is for someone to see him, with all the hate and ugly ragged edges, and to embrace him knowing it could mean death. A ride into a certain downfall.
Did Aotsuki steer off a path where that could have been possible? The thought twists his stomach.
"Let's go back inside. I have to get back."
The moment ends like a balloon popping. Eito rams the needle into it without hesitation. He grabs Aotsuki's wrist and drags him back inside, slams the door and pulls him along down the stairs with no regard if he can keep up or not.
Aotsuki does not complain. Fingers grip into Eito's hoodie, soft whimpers when he stumbles, but he doesn't complain, not once.
Eito discards him back into his room and doesn't spare him a glance as he turns, storming out of the hospital.
A cool breeze rustles Eito's hair and the stars watch him. He feels mocked by their presence, by their witness, along with that dreadful Satellite pretending to be something as righteous as the moon. He wishes it would blow up and eradicate humanity entirely.
Eito starts walking, but not back to the academy. He wants to go anywhere but there. His fingers are cold and his chest aches with pain. He blames it on Takumi's fragile core. His weak heart and his useless brain that cracks way too easily. He didn't break so easily when they were still together.
Eito kicks a stone. The pain surging through his foot brings him back to the present. Anger clouds his vision and he sinks to his knees, hitting the ground with his fists.
And then he simply screams.
Screams and screams and screams, as loud as his lungs allow, as far as the wind may carry. He screams out his anger and his frustration and his loneliness. In the solitude of his own existence, Eito can admit to himself that he feels utterly defeated.
He exchanged one mask for another, and now his mission doesn't feel righteous anymore. What of it, if he reduced the SDU to dust? Takumi wasn't there to see it. Aotsuki was the only person in this world he wanted to see and yet his presence fills him with repulsion.
Aotsuki wants Takumi. Aotsuki has emotions and feelings other than hate, and Takumi had a taste of that and decided it wasn't worth keeping.
Nasty vile Takumi. Eito wants to kill him all over again.
Dragging in a shaky breath, Eito gets back to his feet. He exhales loudly and sighs, pushes his hands into his pockets and turns to head back to the academy.
It wasn't worth his pain. Nothing is.
As the days drag on he knows he'll have to make a decision. He has to think about what to do with the SDU, with humanity, with Aotsuki and himself. Did he still want to go to the Satellite to make them pay? He can't give himself a clear answer to that question.
The sky starts to brighten as Eito arrives at the academy, and when Gaku asks him where he had been, Eito puts on Takumi's lopsided grin as if it's only natural.
~
He knew the question would come eventually. A question he doesn't understand and has no answer to. It weighs between them, gunpowder waiting to be set ablaze, until Aotsuki's tongue can't hold the lure anymore.
"What does it take to make you forgive me?"
This isn't how it should be. Takumi should be the one begging for forgiveness. Eito hasn't done anything wrong, so neither has Aotsuki. They only did what had to be done, to rid this world of all this filth.
Aotsuki stands in the room, waiting for his punishment, and even though the scythe is long gone with his real body, Eito can still feel the spikes piercing his palms, ready to put him down once and for all.
"Why do you even want to be forgiven? Have you forgotten what Ta—what I did to you?!"
Anger bubbles in his chest because he knows he's not innocent in this anymore. And what I have done to you, a quiet voice whispers in the back of his mind, not quite his own, not quite Takumi's either.
Aotsuki makes a pathetic noise in the back of his throat. A dry heave, a hiccup, something truly repulsive and vulnerable and it's hard to keep his eyes set on him, even if Eito knows there's only darkness for Aotsuki where there should be righteousness instead.
"Because I want to stand by your side! I want to earn your trust!" Aotsuki spills.
Eito struggles to keep his Takumi mask in place.
"That's disgusting!"
For a second, Aotsuki's features twist into a grimace. It looks pretty, he thinks. Sharpening all those soft smooth edges.
It falls and turns blank, and Eito mourns what hatred would look like on his face.
"I... I don't care what I have to do. Use me, defile me, choke me, do whatever you please. But I — I truly—"
And something inside him snaps.
He knows he's not lying. Something has changed that makes Takumi's death despicable. Something happened that shifted his path off eternal loneliness and he threw it away.
Eito thought he'd be happy to rid himself of that red demon but he only slipped into another persona to keep up. Pretending and pretending and pretending to be someone he isn't. Takumi's body will never belong to him. It's soiled with regret and pain and nightmares and that awful awful craving that eats away at his core.
Craving turned flesh with no eyes.
"I can't give you that," he says, because it's true.
Aotsuki's lower lip wobbles. "Then why did you bring me here?"
He has no answer to that.
"Would it be so hard for you to tell another lie?"
Eito blinks. Snot is dripping from Aotsuki's nose and his shoulders tremble with each breath.
"Those memories of us together, our lives, everything... What's another one? Would it kill you for a final kindness after you stopped me from walking down my destined path?"
"What other lies?"
The words leave Eito's tongue without thinking. They don't feel like his own. They feel like Takumi's — spoken with the terror of a boy that wanted nothing more than to save this fragile thing begging for his love.
And it looks like Aotsuki gets angry at the question, offended even. He stomps his foot and digs in his heel, the same way he described stomping his eyes.
"Stop lying to yourself! Is this another test? If I'm real? You know Zen'ta is dead, right?”
Zen'ta? Does this mean he's looking at a version of himself past his own death? A version of himself that Takumi spared, again? Progressed past the point of his own death? Had the truth been that close?
"Have it your way!" Aotsuki croaks. His voice cracks, but he stubbornly barrels on. "Our personalities, our past, it's all fake! It's been implanted into us while we were grown in a lab for this war! We were never even supposed to find out! My suffering was never real and my justice never righteous! I'm just defective goods!"
No, no, it cannot be.
Eito had a place in this world — to expunge its filth. He knew Sirei had been lying to them about the war. He had entertained the possibility that the people the others care about might not be on the Satellite, or still alive at all. But did it truly stop there? Wasn't there an itching, knowing it was the truth?
"You've called yourself a defect. You gouged out your own eyes. There's nobody to blame but yourself."
Eito speaks those words and hears Takumi. It's not far from the same words Takumi used to drive him away. But they don't feel good. They don't land the way they should. And Aotsuki shrinks underneath them.
"You don't believe that. I'm not the only one who was fooled. Face it, Takumi-kun. You're just as broken as me."
And Eito wants to beat him until he stops moving. Sink his knuckles into him until they bleed, until his eyes aren't the only thing that's gone. He balls his fist in anger but his body does not respond.
He can't do it.
Because you had enough of violence, his mind helpfully supplies.
No, that's not quite right.
‘In a different life, I made another wrong choice.’
Eito blinks. Takumi's voice surrounds him like a maze of mirrors. He's everywhere and nowhere at all.
‘In another life I couldn't accept you when I should have.’
Eito wants to scream. Slit his wrists and exorcize the devil terrorizing his mind.
‘I'm sorry,’ Takumi says, ‘Please don't blame him anymore.’
And Eito only knows violence. His whole life was built on a house of cards. Hate, anger, repulsion. He needs it to be. It's all he understands. It's what kept him sane through all these days he wished he was dead, buried six feet under beautiful raw earth where the monsters couldn't reach him anymore.
His hands reach for Aotsuki's face. He exhales shakily and bares himself with a smile.
He forgives. There's so much forgiveness now, and he knows his words are true. A lie upon a lie upon a lie. Was his hate ever righteous? Was his justice worth the sacrifice?
Eito doesn't know anything else, so he graces Aotsuki with his violence.
And kisses him the way Takumi never did.
He's like a precious teacup, fragile porcelain not worthy for the mundane occasion, and Eito would only need to let go to shatter him into a thousand tiny pieces.
He has to lean up to his tiptoes, making up for the height difference. Maybe he never considered Takumi having to look up to him.
"Takumi-kun," Aotsuki gasps.
Eito can feel his conflict about the intrusion as if it was his own.
"I want it," Aotsuki pleads, "I want you. All of you, please, use me."
He falls apart with everything he's been kept locked away up until this point.
Eito kisses him more roughly and Aotsuki eagerly parts his lips, whimpering and panting and holding back all the disgust for Eito, for Takumi, to push his tongue inside.
And Eito hates how he can feel Takumi's body cave, slot against him as if he always wanted it. That revolting body of Takumi, his dick hard and throbbing with so much want.
Aotsuki never got to have a single thing he deserved, and Takumi is his now, so he will puppet him the way he himself can never have him.
His hips buck and he awkwardly grinds against Aotsuki, soft whimpers escaping his lips. He groans, licks his lips, and Eito only feels angrier.
He pulls away and grabs Aotsuki's shoulders, turning him around and pushes him against the edge of the bed. Aotsuki spreads his thighs and Eito grinds against him again, uncomfortably hard. That repulsive ugly Takumi and his hedonistic fantasies about him are hardwired into his entire being, craving Aotsuki so deeply that it tunes out all rational thought.
Eito tugs down Aotsuki's pants, then his briefs, trailing a hand between his cheeks. Aotsuki topples over and steadies himself against the bed, but he doesn't reel away.
"Please," he whines, "I know that's all I'm good for anymore, but I... I've been wanting it for so long..."
Eito grits his teeth and angrily frees his weeping erection. It's strange, seeing his own dick rock hard when he's never been able to work himself up like this. It's not his own body, even if his cognition wants to tell him otherwise. The thought of touching it repulses him, but he needs it just as bad. Like he unlodged something neither he or Takumi knew that was there, and now his body takes it whether he likes it or not.
There's still an issue before he can proceed. Eito cranes his neck and studies the room he never fully cleaned. Empty cabinets, scattered bottles with substances of god knows what.
He staggers over to the tables in search of something reminiscent of lubricant. Eito doesn't know the first thing about prep, but he figures he wouldn't want raw cock rammed into his ass. In a way that's his body, after all. He doesn't want to torture himself like that.
After a brief search, he finds a dusty bottle that looks close enough to something usable. Probably expired for years but he doesn't have the time to worry about that.
He opens the bottle and the cold substance drips over his palm. He warms it a little before he wraps it around his dick, giving it a couple lazy pumps. He chokes out a moan and shakes his hand in disgust.
"Takumi-kun...?"
Better not think about it too much.
Eito tosses the bottle and makes his way back, firmly grabs and spreads Aotsuki's cheeks. Aotsuki gasps as his tip prods against his entrance, and Eito slowly presses against his hole.
He's tense and whimpers and Eito waits until the resistance lets up. He can't quite tell if the noises Aotsuki makes are pleasure, but if he had to guess, probably not.
It's ugly. It's definitely not pretty and it doesn't feel good. His mind feels hazy and the response of his body doesn't line up with his thoughts.
Under him Aotsuki sobs quietly and he knows why. He knows better than anyone.
He can't get hard. He can't get off. He's being fucked by a melting corpse.
And Eito knows what this must feel like to him, that towering mass of repulsive flesh invading him, stretching him, squelching and squirming and Aotsuki's body pleading for pleasure and relief. That sickening desire to be touched and embraced and to let it swallow him up whole.
Eito eases his pace and rests his hands against Aotsuki's hips. He knows best of all where and how he needs to be touched. Even if his hands must be filthy to him, all he can do is try.
Hands snake around Aotsuki's hips, one still slick with lube, gently taking his soft dick into his palm.
"Takumi-kun..." Aotsuki whimpers.
Eito starts to pump him, thrusting in sync into him.
A tentacle wrapped around his cock, kneading him lovingly. Eito can't fathom there's any universe where he would want Takumi to do this to him, but despite that, he can work him half hard.
"Takumi-kun... More, please..."
Eito hisses through gritted teeth. He feels unbearably aroused and yet nothing at all.
This is him and isn't him and he is Takumi and isn't Takumi. He doesn't know where one ends and the other begins, and the lines keep getting blurrier.
Aotsuki gets what he longed for so badly, but Eito only gets the fantasy of a could-have-been. Aotsuki wanted to share love where Eito only met Takumi with hatred. Is it the same thing? If overlayed, would their hearts just look the same?
He picks up the pace, thrusts deep into Aotsuki's clenching hole, drinking up all his choked up sounds of pleasure. His gagging and coughing, a hand pressed against his mouth to stop himself from throwing up.
Eito pumps him quicker, his hips spasm and he pushes deep into him. His entire body is too hot and so full of primal human lust and the more disgusted he gets about this act the more aroused his body feels, until he hits his climax.
His hips helplessly buck while he cums, his nose buried into Aotsuki's shoulder, letting his orgasm pass over him.
He feels sticky and gross. His hand slips Aotsuki's cock as he pulls out. For a moment both of them are just panting, the stench of sex and sweat hanging heavy in the air.
What was he thinking? Why did he do all that? Tearing up old wounds that would have perfectly healed on their own?
Eito feels dazed. He's been staring at the wall for a while, not entirely sure what came over him.
There's a hand playing with his hair. Aotsuki is lying up on his bed while Eito simply sits on the floor, thinking.
About nothing.
About everything.
"Thank you, Takumi-kun," Aotsuki whispers solemnly. His fingers pause in Eito's hair. "I'm happy you allowed me to be useful to you at last."
"That's not what this is," Eito argues.
Aotsuki presses out a chuckle. "It's quite alright. I wasn't expecting anything else."
Eito turns to look up at him. Aotsuki's face is scrunched up, like he just came from a funeral.
"You think that's the only reason?" Eito asks.
"What else is there?"
Eito stands up. Maybe he's been too rough. He didn't ask to be discarded like this and Eito holds the key to Aotsuki's happiness. He already broke the barrier. Might as well tear it down entirely.
He climbs into the bed and Aotsuki parts his legs, inviting him in.
He kisses him, tenderly this time, wet and messy and with all the emotion Eito can muster.
He grinds against his crotch, soft moans muffled between their lips.
Aotsuki's heart is pounding and he keeps digging his tongue into Eito's mouth until he eventually has to give in to his own body. Aotsuki barely manages to turn away before he throws up all over the floor. Eito could guess he's been holding it in. Impressive he held out this long.
"I'm sorry," Aotsuki sobs, "I hoped I could please you better."
Sitting side by side, Eito pats his back until he manages to catch himself.
"There's something you should know," Eito says slowly. The words tumble out of his lips against his will. Is this Takumi's stupid sense of righteousness?
Aotsuki wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "I already do." He laughs weakly.
"I don't think—"
"You're not Takumi-kun."
There's a heavy pause between them and Eito's fingers curl into Aotsuki's jacket.
"There's something off about you. I could tell from the moment we met you weren't the same. It's like my disorder can't place what you are. But I don't mind." Aotsuki takes a shaky breath. "It's alright if you're fine pretending to be my Takumi-kun. To me, you are."
Eito's heart feels like it's about to burst. He can tell. Aotsuki loved Takumi in a way he could never fathom feeling about another human. Aotsuki traveled a way where it had been possible and yet Takumi turned him away.
"I am—" he tries, but Aotsuki shakes his head.
"Don't tell me. I'm already quite skilled at living in delusion. What's one more lie?"
Haven't they lived with enough lies? Why would he want another one?
"But you deserve to know the truth."
I deserve to know the truth.
"What if the truth is more painful? I am grateful to have had you like this, Takumi-kun. No matter what or who you are... I think you understand."
And he does.
Because he misses Takumi's presence so much he hallucinates him at times, dreams of him, aches for him, to share that feeling of union again. This body could never be his home and this timeline could never accept Aotsuki.
There's no way around it and Eito is simply tired.
"I think I do. Unfortunately."
He cleans up Aotsuki's vomit and leaves the hospital but he doesn't go back to the academy right away.
In a few days their mission here was over, but Eito has no more interest in playing along. Everyone has had their fill with this game. He has suffered enough. Who knows how many other versions of him are still out there, suffering all the same? He can't save them. But he can make a choice for himself here, and for Aotsuki, to stop this pain from consuming them.
They don't deserve to know the truth. Humanity is the root of all evil and they've chosen to turn a blind eye to it. Why save them? Why enlighten them?
It's their fault Takumi lost. They let this happen, they encouraged Takumi, and they didn't oppose him enough to make Takumi win. The price he paid for shared hatred, for his longing to be understood just once. It wasn't his fault. It was Takumi's, and now he couldn't force him to take it back.
There's only Aotsuki and he left. Nothing else matters.
This world does not need and does not desire them. Neither of them should exist. This world is rotten to the core to the point no amount of purging could fix it.
He doesn't want to think anymore.
Eito learned that love can turn to hate and hate can turn to love. Eito has learned they may as well be the same thing. Does he hate himself? Would someone touch him that way if they hated him? Was it Takumi after all, guiding his hands in ways nobody else could ever make him feel real?
Eito decides in a hazy daze that their days are numbered. For the last time he'll be the reaper, the wolf in sheep's clothing, descending upon the SDU to make them pay for what he never had.
He returns to the academy late at night, clad in his class armor, sword in hand. Killing them doesn't bring him any joy. It's not how he envisioned finally reaching his goals, but it doesn't matter.
He leaves a bloody trail out of every single room on the roof, leaving nothing but emptied out husks. He hopes in their final moments they'll think Takumi betrayed them after everything.
His feet carry him to the defense room. The flames have gone out. Maybe he had realized there was nothing left to defend.
Breaking the door down is far too easy. He feels elated from all the hemoanima he consumed and yet it doesn't satisfy him. Nothing cold ever fill that empty hole Takumi has left behind in his chest.
The apparition of the ghost boy greets him in front of the machine that holds his body.
"You're not Sumino-kun, are you?" he asks.
Eito musters a smirk. "What of it?"
"I hope you find peace," the ghost boy says, his frame already fading, "I forgive you, Aotsuki-kun."
Anger erupts in Eito's chest. He doesn't need to be forgiven. Everything he has done was simply retaking for what is rightfully his.
He plunges the sword into the capsule, consuming that radiant hemoanima that kept the wall of flames alive. It surges and surges and surges and Eito is sure that Takumi's body won't hold.
His mind blissfully turns to static and he reaches out to the voice calling out to him. It's peaceful and quiet and the pain has detached itself from his consciousness. He thinks about Takumi and he can't tell which thoughts and which feelings are his own. It does not matter. They are one now, and he embraces him wholly.
The feeling subsides.
His blood is pulsing like a thousand separate tiny heartbeats. And at this moment he knows just what to do.
The Satellite only dimly illuminates the night but Eito feels like he sees too much, feels too much. His entire body feels turned inside out. His abdomen slashed open and all the guts spilling out.
"Takumi-kun?" Aotsuki asks when he returns to the hospital.
Eito doesn't speak a word. He grabs Aotsuki's hand, tightly interlaces their fingers and drags him along.
"Alright. I'll trust you."
He walks quickly. His heart is racing so fast his vision keeps blurring. He's trembling.
Takumi is everywhere. It's nauseating.
Aotsuki doesn't complain about his pace.
They make their way to the lab and Eito staggers. Aotsuki tries to keep him steady but he elbows him away, all the while their hands never leave each other.
"You planned on dying, didn't you?" Eito asks. His knees are weak while they stagger towards the machine.
"I won't deny it," Aotsuki says solemnly.
"Would you die with me if I asked?"
It's hard to speak. His own words are too loud inside his ears.
"I'd follow you anywhere."
Eito grinds his teeth. The bloodspace waves are surging but there's nowhere to go. Nowhere where they could be truly safe.
"Aotsuki," Eito says, trying to gimmick Takumi's softest voice.
"Yes, Takumi-kun?"
"I love you."
"Heh... Such a loathsome thing to say. You sure made me wait, haven't you?"
Eito raises his sword and plunges it into the machine.
The cryptoglobin energy erupts from the machine like water from a broken faucet. It attaches to Eito's own twice over, Takumi's, the accumulation of the entire SDU, drawn to each other's energy.
Aotsuki doesn't seem scared. He wraps his arms around Eito, head contently rested against his shoulder.
Eito twists the sword and feels a pull, like an undertow tugging at his hemoanima. Aotsuki doesn't resist it, and Eito isn't scared.
He can hear him, calling to him, to them, to finally join him again where nobody could ever hurt them.
And the waves consume them hungrily, a red tide dragging back what belongs to the sea.
It's warm here. Empty and warm and comfortable. He's not sure where they are but the embrace does not disgust him.
There are righteous eyes and no eyes and bulging dark blue voids.
The voice that calls his name is clear. The voice that calls out to him is distorted in that beautifully grating way that tells him everything happened for a reason.
Merging with the bloodspaces in a forever fantasy, their very core reduced to nothing but energy.
Their hands stay united until they are no more.
Somewhere deep down, Eito thinks their thoughts are much the same. Loathing that wretched abomination that carries that foul name, piercing his heart and tearing wounds into his core, but at the same time, loving him has been the first and last time Eito ever felt alive.
It was hate and it was love.
A desperate attempt that fulfilled Eito's deepest wish.
At the end, Eito brings down humanity's last defense. With the SDU extinguished, the Satellite is done for. His justice will persevere. His revenge will be carried out. Even if he won't be around to see it.
It doesn't matter anymore.
With a final surge, the machine sucks in their combined cryptoglobin energy, absorbs it greedily and leaves sparkling particles behind, glistening in the dim artificial moonlight.
The moon has drowned within a red tide, and Eito finally feels no more hate towards him.
"Goodbye, Takumi-kun. Until we loathe each other again."