Lurk // Ishimondo Yandere/Stalker AU - skeletonappreciationday (2024)

Chapter 1: It's a Good Thing to Learn to Climb Trees

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

It's a good thing I had learnt to climb trees when I was younger; otherwise, I'd be awkwardly squatting behind a short brick wall. And anyway, it's easier to get good quality photos when you're up high.

When I asked to borrow Mahiru's camera, she had asked why. I didn't know how to reply, so I just told her, "for the beautiful sights I see," and she didn't seem too disappointed with my answer. I wasn't lying when I told her that and besides, there's no reason why she would ever learn what I actually am photographing: I'll get the pictures developed, delete the photos from her camera, and then return it to her. Maybe I'll take a few photos of the sunset and of the birds that I won't delete, just so she doesn't get too suspicious.

It's a good thing I had learnt to climb trees when I was younger. But it's an even better thing that Mondo Oowada has a tree right outside of his house. If I climb high enough and work my way around, I'm practically in his bedroom with him. Sitting in the tree was a new idea of mine, as was taking the photos. New ideas that had only sprung up after Mondo's brother, Daiya, almost caught me sitting atop their backyard's perimeter wall, admiring the view inside of Mondo's bedroom. By taking the photos, I limited my need to sneak out in the darkest hours of the night, just to see Mondo, and, by sitting in the tree, I limited the chances of either of the two of them seeing me. I think Mondo would be flattered to know I climb trees as tall as this one is just to see him, but I don't think his brother would like it very much. So I stay quiet. I stay hidden.

Mondo enters his room. He seems angry, but sometimes he just...does, despite not being angry at all. Like when he "caught" me when I was looking at him as he changed out of his gym uniform. (He politely asked me to leave with that playful, harsh tone he likes to use, just after he had taken his shirt off). He's been working out; the sun rattling through the leaves is making the sweat on his forehead glisten. His sleeveless shirt is clinging to his muscles. God, he looks good. This is the perfect chance for a photo. Crap, he's taking his shirt off. He wipes his sweat off of his forehead with the back of his palm and uses his shirt, still coated in sweat from his back, his chest...his abs, and wipes at his mouth with it before tossing the shirt over to the hamper in the corner of his room. He hardly ever uses that hamper.

He kicks off of his shoes and leaves them where they are. I always hated it when he would do that, always wanted to invite myself in and tidy his room...just a little bit.

He leans against his window, forearm against the glass, panting and breathing heavily, still perspiring. It must have been one hell of a workout. I slide down on the branch a little more; I don't want him to see me, not now: I don't look very good right now. And I don't think he's in the mood for company. His head jolts back and he groans loudly, but I can't hear him through the glass. He seems annoyed, frustrated maybe. At what? It doesn't matter. I'm sure I'll find out for myself soon enough.

I've got about twenty photos so far, but I don't think it can hurt to take a few more. He scratches at his thigh and moves away from the window; I get a few photos of his back. His muscles are toned and...damn it if he doesn't look good. But Mondo could look good in anything. I see him say something to himself, something along the lines of 'ship', but I can't quite tell.

He throws himself down on his bed, facing the ceiling, mumbling to himself. One hand is on his lazily lying on his groin, whilst his other is balled into a fist as he flexes his bicep. He's admiring his muscles just for a minute, something that he and I have in common. He stops, takes his phone from his pocket and searches something up, but I can't see what. Note to self: bring binoculars next time. After a few pauses, his hand, previously on his groin, relaxes onto his belt buckle and he fumbles with it for a while. I feel my cheeks heat up as I take a few more pictures. He sits up all of a sudden and I panic, thinking he's spotted me in the tree. He seems too mad to want to see me, so I sink a little further down. He pulls his belt through the belt loops of his pants and throws it aside, running a hand through his sweat-sodden hair. Luckily, he didn't spot me. He was just adjusting positions. Or maybe he did see me but didn't want me to know. I smile at the thought.

"Jesus, Mondo Owada," I whisper as I take another picture.

He gently lies himself back down, sighing heavily and deeply. He runs his palm down his abs, sweaty and shining under the dying sunlight. I feel my face getting increasingly heated and I can't help but lean forward, take another few photos, lean forward attentively. I can't even hear the clicking of the camera as I take each photo. Then, he starts toying with the button on his pants and I start to lower the camera. There's a voice in my mind, telling me to leave, to go, that this is immoral, but the rest of me wants to know where this is going to go. He looks away from whatever his hand's doing and rocks his head back as he drags the zipper down.

"Shit!" I hear him yell through the window; the glass muffled his words a little, but he had an obvious strain to his voice. Again, he sits up and grabs the waistband of his pants with both hands, still holding his phone. I still can't see what he's looking at.

He falls back down, his pants below his knees, his chest rising and falling quicker and quicker with every second that passes. He looks more frustrated than before as he uses his legs and feet to take off his pants, kicking them to the floor afterwards. He runs a hand up and down his thigh for a few moments. I take one last picture before nestling it between my legs, full attention on what I'm watching. He takes his underwear off, keeps them just below his knees.

He's so... hard. My throat is, all of a sudden, dry, and...how long has my hand been gripping my leg this tightly? I look down for a moment, then look back up and...

Crap. One hand is on his forehead, the other on his member. His hips buck up and he moans; I can hear it through the glass. Another moan, louder this time, as his hips buck again. He runs a hand through his hair, still working on his length. His head leans back into his pillow, groaning and breathing heavily; I feel my pants tighten and I bite my lip, hard, until I taste blood. A horrible feeling emerges in my stomach and the enormity of my desire begins the sicken me. I sling the camera around my neck and begin to climb down; this disgust in myself was enough to force me to leave. I hear another muffled moan from Mondo as I hop over the half-wall and begin to walk home.

As I walk home, trying my hardest not to turn around and then climb back up that tree, watch him finish, I try to not let my mind wander too far. Sure, I think of Mondo shirtless in his bedroom, touching himself, but I don't let my mind stray too far from that. Only that I wish I was there with him...hearing him moan...he calling my name out...his hands on me and...

No.

"I'll develop the pictures tomorrow," I tell myself, trying to stay grounded in reality and not floating away to some daydream. Maybe I should have stayed. No, no, of course not; it's one thing to take photos of him half-naked in his room, but it's another to take photos of him touching himself. I know how red I must look, because of how much heat has rushed to my face; I think I'm beginning to sweat as well, but I dab at it with the sleeve of my shirt.

What excuse would I use on my father today? That I was taking a run? That I helped Hina with some homework after hours? Probably the latter. I think that would make my father proud, that I'm helping out other students at my school.

The walk from mine to Mondo's and vice versa isn't too long, so ten minutes had scarcely past before I was home. My pants are still tight around my crotch, but, as I think of other things, they begin to loosen.

"Father," I say with wide eyes, pausing abruptly, shocked at the sight of him, standing in the doorway, staring at me with sullen eyes.

"Kiyotaka, you're an hour late."

"I got caught up helping Aoi with her homework after hours again." His gaze softens.

"You and that girl..." He sighs, turning and going back inside, muttering, "one day, you'll marry her," under his breath. He holds the door open, and I pace myself a little more to not let him stand there awkwardly any longer.

Dinner is already on the table; the smell is drifting through the hallway. As I pass the dining room, I can see that the door was open and my family's eating their meal with peace in their eyes. It's almost silent, besides the chewing of food. I look at them and smiled softly.

"Aren't you going to eat, Taka?" my mother asks me, spying me standing in the doorway.

"I will in a minute, Mother. I'm just going to get changed out of my uniform." I smile a little wider. "Don't forget to save me some." I wink and turn to leave. I can hear her giggle as she continues to eat.

I wander into my bedroom, thankful that neither of my parents have asked me about the camera.

"The camera, Kiyotaka?" I hear my father ask from behind me and I turn, dazed, knowing I had thought too soon. "Where did you get the camera- Why did you get the camera?" He almost sounds angry and I know it best to disarm him before allowing him to get angrier.

"Oh." I turn around. "My friend Mahiru leant it to me. I wanted to take photos of all of the beautiful sites I see. I'm giving it back to her after a few days, don't worry."

"And this Mahiru is she...?"

"Just a friend."

"Good to know," he mutters as he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

I hide the camera in a drawer, not wanting my family to go through it and see the subject of my art. I unbutton my shirt, my mind flickering back to the thought of Mondo, sweaty from his workout, taking off his shirt. My bed falls beneath my weight as I take off my boots, my favourite part of every outfit, setting them neatly at the end of my bed, symmetrical to one another. I hang up my shirt, stretching from the day, and unbuttoned my pants. All I can think of is Mondo. Mondo in his bedroom, undressing himself, touching himself. As I change into the set of pyjamas I had folded and buried under my pillow this morning, I can only think of him. He is the subject of my want, not anybody else; it will never be anybody else. It can never be anybody else.

"Don't take too long, Taka!" my mother calls and I hear the clattering of dishes from down the hall.

"I won't," I call back, laughing slightly at her mild impatience. I question whether my parents will ever learn that I'm so attracted to Mondo; I wouldn't describe myself as gay, per se, but I suppose it is the only fitting description for whatever is going on in my head. The thought Mondo, shirtless, coming up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing himself against me, his mouth on my neck, wanders into my mind. I try to blink it away, but the illusion only becomes more realistic.

"Taka!" my mother yells once again and I sigh, opening my eyes from the daydream, knowing I was back to reality. A reality I didn't to exist in. In my reality, I don't need to work so hard to get Mondo to love me; I don't mind working as hard as I do for him, but sometimes it's tiring.

"Kiyotaka!" my fathers voice thunders and the raw strength it carries sends the imaginary Mondo I have in my head running.

"Yes, coming!" I say before leaving my room, checking at first that I was dressed and conducted properly.

Chapter 2: Love Isn't a Competition, But I'm Winning

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

As I lie in bed, having eaten a good portion of my dinner, I can't rid my head from thoughts of Mondo. I think about him in his room. I imagine him lying next to me in bed. In this fool's dream, he's shirtless and using his palm to rub circles on my stomach, kissing my neck and my jawline; he would work his way down to kiss my shoulder, unbuttoning my shirt slowly, his hand moving further down my body. He would moan my name softly into my ear...Taka...Taka...I can almost hear him saying it. He would kiss me everywhere he could, his hand dangerously, sinfully close to my waistband, moving down further and further, until his hand is at my hip, snaking down to my groin, rubbing up and down, up and down, still moaning my name into my ear, his mouth against my skin and... God, I can't contain it anymore. I flip myself onto my back, can't see anything in the darkness. It must be at eleven o'clock at night. I can't stop thinking about Mondo. My breath quickens. I think about what he did today, about him touching himself. How else do I become closer to him if not to copy him...right?

I put my hand on my inner thigh and began to caress myself. I had never touched myself like this before, but Mondo has awakened something in me. I know that most guys my age will do this every week, heck, some even do it every night, but I was always different. It was always something that made me feel...unclean, but since I had seen Mondo do it, I couldn't stop thinking about trying it for myself. I know that you're meant to have tissues on hand for clean up, and I also know that I always keep a box in my drawer. In my drawer...right beside Mahiru's camera. Crap, I'm not thinking about doingthat whilst looking at photos of Mondo, am I? I keep caressing my inner thigh, beginning to press harder with the conflict of whether or not I really should do this to the image of Mondo. Well, if not to the photos of Mondo, then it would only be to the thought of Mondo, and one of those seems more work than the other. I sigh, take the camera from the drawer (and the tissues, setting them atop my bedside table).

"Thank God for digital cameras," I whisper, hoping nobody in my family can hear me. I turn the camera on, pick out my favourite photo from the collection (which just happens to be the most recent), and I tug my pants down. I can't believe I'm really about to do this...

I start rubbing my inner thigh again, simply glad that it's dark and I don't have to look at the thing. I look at the photo, studying Mondo like he is the only thing in the world - for now, he is. I feel myself harden and I moan slightly as my hand moves from my thigh to my length. "Shit..." I hiss as I get to work. I keep my eyes fixed on the photo, trying my best to copy what Mondo did today. Up and down...up and down...I hit a sensitive spot, and my hips buck up and I moan. Accidentally too loud. And I panic, thinking that my parents might have heard me. I mean God knows what my father would do if he caught me touching myself to a photo of Mondo. But the house remains silent.

I keep doing it. At this point, I can't stop doing it. "M...Mondo," I moan, keeping my words as quiet as possible. I look at the photo again, at Mondo's expression, at his body, his hand working his dick. And I moan his name again. My hips buck up again and I moan, choking on saliva as I do so, thankfully might I add: if not for that choking then my parents would have heard me. "Oh, God...Oh God-" Precum flows from me and slicks my hand, acting as a lubricant. "Mondo, I'm close," I whisper, beginning to squirm beneath my hand. I put the camera down, one hand on my member and the other on my thigh, rubbing again. "I'm so close." And then a warm feeling fills my stomach, and my chest rises, and I finish into my hand. I let out a loud moan, before cutting myself off by biting my lip.

It takes me a second before I realise what I've done, and I collapse into reality: there is no Mondo with me and all of a sudden I become overwhelmed. I shouldn't be embarrassed; in fact, I should be more embarrassed by the fact that this is the first time I've ever done it, but this feeling was overpowering. I grab a handful of tissues, wiping at my hand and at my groin and crotch. I wish that Mondo had been there with me, maybe even been doing it to me, but I suppose that for now, until we can both admit our feelings to each other, my hand is the closest thing I'll get to his.

I throw the tissues into the trash can beside my bed, my heart thudding in my chest, pulling my pants back to my waist. I take one last look at the photo, bringing the screen to my mouth and kissing Mondo's face, before I turn it off and place it (and the box of tissues) back in the drawer.

I roll onto my side, trying to gather my thoughts and rid myself of the pulsing feeling between my legs that is just only beginning to die. And that night, I sleep splendidly.

-------

Waking up was a different matter.

It was the first time I had ever done something like that and it had tired me out. I slept through my alarm, bathing in the ecstasy of dreaming about Mondo. Wholesome things.

I wake up to my father screaming at me that I would be late if I don't get up, and my mother trying to difuse him from the doorway, though to no avail. My eyes flicker open to the face of my father, angrily staring down at me, his breath humid and spit flying at me as he yells. "Oh, good, he's finally awake!"

"Did- Did I oversleep?" I sleepily mutter as I push myself up onto my elbows.

"You bring shame to this family's name!" he yells finally before leaving, my mother standing awkwardly beside the doorway.

"You'd better get dressed, honey," she says. "Else you might be late." She tries to smile, but I can see the tears in her eyes before she turns and leaves.

I'm still half-asleep as I drag myself out of bed. I get dressed, still in a haze, trying to pinpoint exactly what happened last night: if I really had touched myself like that to the photo of Mondo, or if I had simply dreamed it. I don't know which sounds like the better option. My heart flutters in my chest as I consider Mondo touching himself in his bed. But then I sigh, and the thought fades; thankfully, touching myself last night had turned my intense, sexual thoughts about him to just...thoughts about him. I hadn't realised how pent up I really have been since I came in my hand yesterday. I'm thankful that I had allowed myself to do it, and horrified at the same time.

I lace my boots up as I think about him. The way his brow furrows when he gets stressed, how he drums his fingers on the table when he listens to music, how one side of his mouth quirks up before he bursts into a roar of laughter. How his hips buck up when he-- No, Taka. Last night was a one off; I don't imagine I should do it again any time soon.

There's no time for breakfast: I slept in far too late and I need to get to school immediately. Heck, this has thrown my whole schedule off. Mondo's probably halfway through his to-school route, and I'm too late to see him climb up onto his motorbike and ride to school. It's okay, I don't need to see him this early anyway. But I would like to. No, there's no time. He's long gone.

"Goodbye!" I shout before leaving, but I don't get a response. I sigh and shut the door behind me, ready for my (albeit short) walk to school.

I straighten my back a little as I walk through the gates of Hope's Peak Academy, though there really is no need since my posture is always perfect. I can hear the sound of a motorcycle behind me and I sneak a glance, my face heating as I see Mondo's shirt riding up a little as he climbs off. I turn back, smiling a little to myself. There you go, Taka, I think to myself. You got to see him this morning anyway.

I slip into classroom 78, seeing my usual group of Hina, Chihiro, and Sakura already talking to one another. The classroom is by no mean's full, but I have never been here when...well, when anybody was here before me.

Chihiro gasps as we meet eye contact and he stands, shouting, "Taka, you're late!" Hina and Sakura turn to me, chuckling either at my embarrassed expression or at Chihiro's sudden exclamation.

"I overslept," I say, trying to calm him down. "It's no big deal."

"Wow, Ultimate Moral Compass being late?" an all-too familiar voice says from behind me. As Mondo slips by me in the doorway, he flashes a massive grin my way before saying, "never heard of that one before!" And he turns to talk to one of the members of his gang. I'm frozen in my place, my cheeks heated and thus reddened, unable to say anything. I feel Chihiro tug on my sleeve as he pulls me down onto my usual seat and, consequently, back to reality.

"Morning, Taka!" Hina says with a wink. "We were just talking about our crushes." She contemplates for a moment and then says, "do you like anybody Taka?" And she suggestively nudges me. I chuckle and shake my head.

"I've got to get through school before I even think about liking anybody."

"Come on, you're no fun!" she jokes, Sakura laughing beside her."What about you, Chihiro? Do you like anybody, or are you as boring as our Taka over here?" She laughs and I can't help but chuckle with her. Not at her phrasing, but rather at how smoothly I had lied.

"Well-" And then Chihiro's cheeks flush and he says, "no, nevermind," with an embarrassed sort of smile.

"You can tell us, Chihiro! We won't bite ya for it!" jokes Hina once again.

"Well, I kind of like-" And he leans in and says theone name that I didn't want to hear come from his mouth."Mondo."

My hands ball into fists on top of my knees and I feel my shoulders tense up. My teeth grind against each other before I can even process that Hina is already teasing him for it. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands and I feel a new, hot feeling take over my mind. Anger. That's what it is. And for a moment, I can see myself standing and throwing something, but I stay stuck in my chair, wanting to just scream at him. No words, just one, long sound.

"I think Taka'll have something to say about that one, Chihiro," Sakura teases but I can barely hear her over the heavy, drowning sound in my ears. I just stare at Chihiro. Try to think how I could dissuade him from thinking about Mondo like that. Try to convince Chihiro that Mondo isall mine, without telling him that Mondo is all mine.Mine. God, it feels good to say that. Mondo is mine. And I'm not going to let Chihiro ruin it for us.

"I thought you liked Byakuya?" I try to say through my rage. "Or...or Leon?"

He shakes his head and that hot feeling rises in my throat again, this time in the form of a suppressed yell. "I used to think that I liked them, but I know that I actually like Mondo now." He pauses, glancing around before leaning in and saying, "I think I realised it yesterday. You see, he helped me work out after school, because I want to get stronger and...he was just so considerate." He sighs dreamily.

But you didn't fucking see him touch himself, did you? I want to say, but instead it comes out in the form of, "excuse me: I need to use the bathroom."

Chapter 3: Bloody Waters

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I look in the mirror, clutching the sides of the sink so hard that my knuckles and fingernails are white. My eyes seem redder than usual but maybe I'm just staring harder than usual; it was the rage, I know, that had darkened my eyes. "Fucking Chihiro," I mutter. I'm not one to use obscenities; I think them vulgar and rude, but I think this occasion calls for it. Both stalls are empty, which I'm glad of; it means I can just talk to my reflection without fear of being overheard.

"Who the fuck does he think he is? He didn't watch Mondo fuck himself. He didn't fuck himself to the thought of Mondo. You're far more dedicated than that dipshit, Taka. How much does he even think he likes Mondo? Not as much as I do. Mondo ismine," I hiss, still trying to keep my voice low. "When was the last timehe came for Mondo? Probably fucking never! Mondo ismine, and I amhis." I thought of last night and suddenly thought about doing it to myself again, not out of love for Mondo - though, of course, my love for him is in everything I do - but rather out of hatred of Chihiro. I'm suddenly aware of my crotch pressed up against the porcelain sink as I say, "I deserve Mondo! Me! Me! I deserve him!" I thrust myself forward, almost moaning before hearing a light knock on the door.

"Taka? You okay?" It's Hina.

"Y-Yeah, fine!" I say back, trying to pretend like whatever had just happened hadn't. What had come over me? Why did I feel so possessive all of a sudden? More importantly, why did I feel so aroused all of a sudden? I'm not hard, I know that much as I pull away from the sink, but I'm definitely...how does one put it into words? Hot and bothered. Did I...really just try to get off using a school sink? No, of course not. I'm the Ultimate Moral Compass, I would never do something like that.

"You coming?" What? Why would she ask that? Of course, I'm not! I'm just in a bathroom; that doesn't automatically mean I'm--she didn't mean it like that, Taka.

"Yeah! Just give me a minute!" I sigh deeply, adjusting my pants and taking a glance at myself in the mirror. I'm bright red. Jesus, that's not obvious at all. I take some cold water and splash it on my face, hoping it'll cool me down, snap me out of thinking about all ofthat.

The bell rings as I open the door. I'm greeted with Hina's face a mere inch or so away from mine. Why would she be standing so close to the door?

"Jesus Taka, I thought you were stuck in there or something!" she chuckled. "C'mon, let's get to class." I follow her, still flustered about what had gone down in that bathroom. I know it best to just rid myself of the thoughts, to push them all down until they become unbearable, but then I think about how relieved I felt when I came in my hand and...maybe it's not for the best. No, no, Taka. You don't need to be readjusting your morals, not now.

We enter the classroom, which is still disorganised. Leon is throwing a paper aeroplane, trying to hit Hiro, who seems to just be accepting this, on the other side of the class; Byakuya, as always, is trying to shake Toko off, who's clinging to him like a lost puppy. Despite the chaos, I sit down in my seat and, as the teacher walks in, everybody dies down and takes their seats. Mondo sits in front of me, thank God; I can think about him and not Chihiro. It's not a particularly hot day, but he's taken his jacket off and slung it around the back of his chair. His shirt is still clinging to his muscles, skin-tight, and I can make out every mark on his body. That one freckle at the very top of his shoulderblade. The tensing and relaxing of his neck. I could just touch myself to him right now, under this desk, and for a moment, I seriously contemplate this. Or at least I could put my hands on my thighs and just caress myself--

"Shit, man, do you have a pencil?" he asks, having turned around. I hope Chihiro can see this, that he's askingme for a pencil and not him.

"Oh. Yeah." I take a mechanical one from my pencil case and hand it to him, and he takes it with a grin.

"You're the fuckin' best, dude." He turns back around and I can see him playing with it, balancing it on his upper lip and clicking the pencil led far too long, only to push it back down. He...called me the best. Another victory over Chihiro.

But what am I going to do with Chihiro? I mean, how do I convince him that Mondo's always going to belong with me, without telling him how I feel about him? I could kill him. I laugh a little at the thought. No, I can't kill him. I haven't got a reason to. It's one thing to kill him after he's doing something with Mondo, but it's just a little crush for now.For now. It'll probably never become anything more.Probably.

"Ishimaru, can you please explain this equation for the class?" the teacher asks. Everything on the chalkboard is incoherent nonsense to me. I usually excel at math but I'm too caught up in my personal life to focus on my academic.

"I..." All eyes are on mean and Mondo turns around, smiling as if to tease me for not knowing the answer. "It's just the root of x?" I finally say, hoping that I'm right.

"Thank you, Ishim--"

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Hiro cries out from the corner of the room. "What evenis the root of x?"

"Exactly!" Leon yells, somehow finding agreement in whatever Hiro is saying. "I mean, 'root of x'. That crap's too philosophical for me! Who needs to learn about the lore of a letter?"

"Leon knows what I'm talking about! Math is just occult crap anyway!"

I sink into my seat, putting my head on top of my arms on the table. Listen, I like Leon and Hiro. I think they're great guys. But I really don't understand how they've both made it this far in life. If they ever got together, their joint idiocy would put us all out of our misery. That, mingled with the absolute horror that Chihiro might one day date Mondo and the flustered feelings below my waist as I looked at Mondo, was enough to make me miserable.

How I made it all the way to lunch is a mystery to me.

"Did you see Mondo today?" Chihiro says, blushing.

"Geez, you keep gushing about him and he might hear!" Hina jokes, taking a bite out of her doughnut.

"He just looked really good is all I'm saying--"

"Jesus Christ, can we stop talking about him? Please?" I half-said half-shouted. I don't mean to sound as annoyed as I truly am, but I can't help it that strokes of rage had bled through. I run a hand through my hair as I sigh.

"Taka, what's wrong with you today? You seem all...frustrated," Chihiro says. As if he fucking cares.

"I'm fine," I hiss, pushing my food away. "I've just got a lot going on. That's all." 'A lot' is a bit of an understatement, Taka. Hell, you contemplated murder and masturbation with hardly even a two-minute gap between the two subjects. In fairness, both seem like great options to fix everything.

"Do you want to get some tea after school?" he asks softly and I dismissively agree. "You want to come, Hina?"

"Can't. Gotta swim competition coming up and I just have to keep practising!"

"Sakura?"

"I promised Hina that I'd help her. Sorry, Chihiro."

"Just you and me then it seems, Taka." I looked up at him, smiling; great, I get to have a hold day of having immoral feelings and then walk home with the same guy who doesn't stop talking about what's mine. No, maybe it'll do me good. It might remind me that he's allowed to want...just not touch.

"Shoot, I completely forgot! I can't get tea with you, I'm sorry, Kiyo..."

"Why not?" I hesitate to ask.

"I promised Mondo I'd work out with him after school again. I'm sorry, Taka."

"I swear, you are in love with that guy!" Hina laughs. My hands are balled into fists again. I could grab Chihiro right now and knock his tooth out with a single punch. And then I would tell Mondo why I did it. And he'd think me the hero...and we'd go back to his place, and- Get those thoughts out of your head right now, Taka, before you get hard and can't do shit about it.

For some reason, last night, Mondo had awakened something in me and it won't go back to sleep.

-------

A sense of pride overwhelms me as the final bell rings and I realise that I've somehow managed to get through the day. I'll go to Mondo's house, watch him for a while before he goes to work out, and then have those photos developed. Seems like a good plan. Or maybe I should get the photos developed first and then hope that Mondo's back from working out when I'm finished. Let's go with that one.

I say my goodbye's to Hina and Sakura and, regretfully, Chihiro, before heading home to pick the camera and some money up.

My mother greets me as I come home, my father being out. "I'm just going to go have some photos developed, Mother." I pause, trying to think of an excuse to justify my being out late. "And Hina asked to grab a coffee and work on some schoolwork together after. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, dear, just be back before ten." She gives me a kiss on the cheek before I sling the camera around my neck and left.

--------

The photos hadn't taken as long as I thought they would have to develop. It took me an hour or so, and now I'm sitting in my tree, flipping through the pictures with a smile. All of Mondo's windows are open so this time, I'll hopefully be able to hear him if he does anything. Especially if he does anything like yesterday.

His door swings open and in he walks, sweaty, his shirt clinging to him tight, looking as perfect as ever. He's smiling as he dabs at his upper lip with the back of his hand. And in follows Chihiro. What the fuck is he doing in Mondo's bedroom?

"You're getting pretty strong, dude," Mondo says. His voice is sweet as honey and melts like butter.

"You really think so?" Chihiro sounds so hopeful that it makes me sick. It scratches like a record player and I just wish I could shut him up forever. "I wish that one day I could be as strong as you."

"Shit, you're already stronger than me."

"You're just saying that." He giggles and Mondo chuckles as he lies on his bed, hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling.

"I'm not, dude, I promise. I bet ya could take me in a fight."

"Really?"

"Oh definitely." He laughs and says, "name a day of the week and I'll meet ya behind the school so we can put my theory to the test." Chihiro giggles again, sitting beside Mondo on his bed.

"I'm really grateful that you would help me out, Mondo."

"No sweat, dude!"

"No, really, it's so kind of you." He lies down beside Mondo, who doesn't seem to object, but I know he does, deep down. That should beme lying beside him, not Chihiro. I clench the photographs in my hand as I think about it. And Chihiro turns to face Mondo and he-- Fuck, he just kissed him! I know Mondo will probably shove him away and tell him he has feelings for somebody else (me) in whatever way he wants to. I mean, for instance, his face just went bright red because he's embarrassed for him. And he's kissing him back because he feels pity for him... Right?

I feel a pit begin to form in my stomach as tears begin to form in my eyes. I begin to clench the photos harder, hearing them crumple in my hand, unable to take my eyes from the two of them. Still kissing. No, this isn't right. I must be dreaming. I pinch at my skin. Then I pull at it until I'm scratching, reciting, "wake up, wake up, wake up." Chihiro's manipulating him. That's got to be it. My Mondo would never kiss somebody else and not Chihiro of all people. Chihiro's the villain here, not Mondo. Mondo's never the villain. And then he pulls away. Just like I knew he would.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Chihiro sits up and replies, "no, it's okay. I need to go home now anyway."

"Oh, g'bye then."

"Goodbye." Chihiro kisses him atop his forehead before turning and leaving the room. I can see him skip excitedly down the sidewalk as he leaves the house. I'm still crying for some reason.

"Shit," I hear Mondo say, thinking he's regretting kissing Chihiro, no...knowing that he regrets it. He unbuckles his belt, tugging down his pants and underwear before fucking himself just like yesterday. I can hear his moans, his groans, his breathy gasps of pleasure this time. And I let myself get hard, watching him cum into his hand this time with a loud exclamation of "fuck!" He waits before cleaning himself up, taking a few breaths before taking a handful of tissues. (He and I use the same tissue brand, I made sure). And then he pauses for a minute or two and touches himself again.

It's not long then until he's asleep and I watch him, peaceful in his slumber, his pants still on the ground but underwear back on, as the hours pass.

Chapter 4: Laughing on the Outside

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I'm an hour late home, I know, but I got caught up in watching Mondo sleep. I don't want to knock on the door, in case my father hears me and decides to scream at me for it. But I don't get much contemplation before the door swings open, almost knocking me to the floor from shock. It's not my father who's face greets mine, rather my mother's.

"Taka, you're late," she says, sounding more weepy than angry.

"I know, I'm sorry." I slip past her in the doorway as she shuts the door behind me, sighing. "Studying ran on a little long and I couldn't call you." She sighs again.

"I'm sorry, Taka...you know that we're trying-"

"No, Mother, please. I'm saving up to get myself a phone, I promise, I'll get one soon I'm sure. Speaking of which, have you heard back from that job at the grocery store?" I ask her this lazily, only just remembering that she had applied.

"Oh- Oh! Yes, I forgot to tell you!" She grins. "They've allowed me to have an interview!"

"That's great!" I can't help but feel joyful. She works hard in the house, but has always wanted to try and help others out. I suppose she thinks that the best way for 'somebody like her' as she puts it, is to work in retail.

"Isn't it just?" She relishes in pride for a moment, "the only problem is that it's tomorrow, starts when you're meant to be getting home from school. So I won't be able to greet you, and I don't know how long it'll last, but-"

"No, Mother, you already do enough around the house, I promise. You go to that interview and you get that job!" She laughs delightedly and then her expression dies as

I pause, the silence of the house horrifyingly unusual. "Where's Father?"

"He's out." She makes eye contact with me before turning away. "Drinking."

"Again?" My voice shakes as I speak. "You oughtn't to let him go out this late anymore. Just lock the door and hide the key."

"He'll only get angry."

"He gets angry when he drinks," I shout, not meaning to speak as harshly as I do. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind tonight."

"You should go to bed, Taka." I nod and sigh before saying, "goodnight." To which she gives me a small hug and returns the sentiment, before slipping into the dining room and shutting the door.

I will not let myself cry, I think, before turning and going into my room, pacing my breathing slowly. I try my best to think of today, of Mondo, touching himself twice before falling asleep. Peaceful in his sleep. His curves more obvious than ever in his clothes or the...the lack thereof. I heard him snoring through his open window. Sitting on my bed, fully clothed, my hands awkwardly between my knees, I let myself think some more. His moans...his laboured breathing...his voice cracking as he groans obscenities...his head rocking back...his hips thrusting up. As my pants tighten, I become intensely aware of my heartbeat pounding in my head and my...crotch region. My hands move further down, between my thighs, against my mind's will. "Not tonight," I whisper to myself, trying to think of other things to distract myself from my arousal. Everything always leads back to Mondo. Except for one thing.

Chihiro.

He's in my way. He's in my way. He's in my way.

I need him out of my way. He's ruining everything. He's ruining everything I have worked so fucking hard for. I hate him. He's in my fucking way and he shouldn't be allowed to be in my way. He needs to leave me alone. He needs to leave Mondo the fuck alone. My hands press harder into my thighs, sending a dull pain through me. I fucking hate him. He thinks he's so much better than me. Why? Just because he's kissed Mondo? No. Fuck that. Mondo's mine. (My fingers dig further into my thighs). His lips are mine. (The pain intensifies but I don't care). His hair is mine. His body is mine. Mondo is mine. (That ache is becoming crucifying and I grind my teeth together). I hesitate to look down and...shit.

Thinking about Chihiro only made me more possessive of Mondo, only made me think more about Mondo, only made me - and I hate saying this - harder.

"Goddammit," I hiss as I throw my head back. How long have my hands been rubbing at my thighs? Crap, I don't want to touch myself, but the sensation that I felt yesterday was...it was amazing.

God-fucking-dammit.

I unbutton my shirt quickly, fumbling with the buttons with my already sweaty hands. I'm mumbling obscenities as I take off my boots, then my pants, throwing them sloppily on the ground. All I can think of is Mondo. I lie down in my bed, not before doing a double-take to make sure that my door is closed. My hands tug my underwear down before one immediately finds its way to my length.

"Oh God, Mondo," I whisper, keeping my voice as low as I can, knowing that my mother is in the room just next to mine. "Fuck, Mondo. Fuck. Right there," I continue to moan as my hips thrust up.

My hand works my length as I let out half-stifled moans. "Mondo, you're so good," I groan as I work faster and faster, squirming frantically, my hips thrusting and bucking rhythmically. "Touch me, Mondo," I hesitate to whisper with a shaky, uneven tone, too breathy for even me to recognise it as my own voice. "Touch me right there, Mondo, oh god!" I try to stifle my exclamations and moans as I toss my head back, burying myself further into the pillow, precum beginning to flow. And then, with a final, barely suppressed whine, my body tightening, I climax into my hand.

I smile wide as I finish, panting, my eyes closed, my face towards the ceiling, basking in this euphoria for a few minutes. My hand is sticky, but I don't do anything about it until this feeling of bliss begins to normalise. All of the tensions of the day are gone. Not permanently, of course, but for now, they're gone.

I grab a handful of tissues from the drawer (making a mental note to return Mahiru's camera) and wipe myself down. I barely have time to pull my underwear back up before I'm fast asleep.

-------

I overslept a little again today, but that's okay. It's not a big deal. At least not to me.

Walking to school, I plan how I'm going to avoid Chihiro today. Of course, he's become somewhat of an integral role in our friendship group so I can't quite avoid him without avoiding Hina and Sakura too. Maybe kissing Mondo made him realise he's not truly in love with him. Or he's gotten over him. Either of those options seems perfectly reasonable.

Mondo's later than usual to school today. I hope he's okay. Maybe I should go and check upon him. No, Taka. I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he's just contemplating how he's going to face Chihiro today after rejecting his advances last night. Last night. Is Mondo touching himself like that going to become a new part of his after-school routine? I don't think I'd be able to handle myself if it does, but I smile - though I'm not quite sure whether this is at the idea of watching Mondo do that every day or at how helpless, weak, submissive he looks when he fucks himself. He's so beautiful. Even when he does those gross things.

"Taka? You okay?" Hina asks, sitting beside me.

I turn to her with a dreamy air floating through my head, cleansing my soul. "Hm?"

"You kind of spaced out there, Taka," Chihiro says, sounding concerned. But I can see through his petulant acts.

"No, I'm okay," I finally reply. "Just got caught up in a daydream is all." I chuckle and Hina joins me, but Chihiro doesn't take his eyes from me; I can feel his disgustingly permeating gaze sticking to me.

"I didn't know the Ultimate Moral Compass could daydream!" Mondo says from behind me, laughing uproariously afterwards. I snap around, careful to inspect him - to make sure he's not ill or wounded, of course - but even more careful not to let anybody see how vehemently I study him. "Hey, Chi," he says, offering up a wave and a wink as his laughter dies down before he turns and saunters to talk to the three members of his gang that are in our class.

The wave I don't mind.

But the wink.

Chihiro has to be manipulating him. There's no doubt about it.

And that's it.

That's the final straw.

I'm going to fucking kill Chihiro Fujisaki.

"Hey, Chihiro, that reminds me." I don't even realise what I'm saying before I've said it. "If you're not busy, we can still grab some tea after school? I know a great cafe that's just opened up."

"Oh, Taka, I'd completely forgotten!" He smiles for a moment and then says, "but I'd love to!" He grins and I smile back.

I just smile back.

Chapter 5: Our Old Friend Death

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I can't stop my leg from bouncing up and down below my desk, and I can't stop myself from biting, chewing on my lower lip. I can taste the blood in my mouth. The only thing that stops me from crying out with frustration is the fact that I can see Mondo in my peripheral vision. He's chomping down on his pencil, spitting out the paint that cracks off into his mouth, and staring confusedly at his History work.

How I'll get Chihiro away from Mondo, I'm not sure yet. Maybe I'll borrow one of Leon's baseball bats without asking him first. Or maybe I'll sneak my way into the kitchen and grab a knife. Or maybe I'll take some bleach, or better yet rat poison, and put some in his drink. Or maybe I can take a dumbbell from the gym and use that. Well, it's certainly a place to start.

I look over at Mondo for a single moment, admiring the way his face shines in the sunlight. I feel my thoughts calm as I realise that everything I do, I do for him. I ease up a little and my tense shoulders begin to relax; I feel a little better about killing Chihiro now. Chihiro needs to die, that's the truth of it. I tried to give him a second chance, but he just didn't care enough to try to right his wrongs. So I need to kill him. I'm sure Mondo will thank me for it in the end. Even if he's hesitant to know that he's grateful at the beginning.

So then, how should I kill Chihiro? I realise now that I should think about what Mondo would do. I think that he would...take a dumbbell from the gym and hit him with it. Only once, of course. Hard enough to instantly kill him. Mondo may be scary to look at, but he's humane and I think he'd want to put Chihiro out of his misery as quickly as possible.

"Who can tell me who the first human to travel to space was?" I hardly even give the teacher time to finish the question before I shoot my hand into the air and wait patiently for her to call on me. "Ishimaru?"

"Yuri Gagarin in April, 1961."

"Very good." She smiles before turning her back to the class to write "YURI GAGARIN" on the chalkboard.

I turn my head ever so slightly to see Mondo again, but this time he catches me and I almost look away in a panic before he shoots a playful finger gun and, grinning, winks at me, mouthing, "well done, bro!" before turning back to his work. I can see his doodles in the form of a vague blur on the corners of his pages, obscured by the distance between us. There's a half-finished motorcycle, a photo of a rocket being launched into space with a skeleton inside, and some sketched out replications of the patterns on his coat. He's a good artist, despite what he'll try to lead you to believe. I remember that once somebody from his gang (or it might have been Daiya) caught him drawing and Mondo immediately destroyed the piece, claiming it to be the work of somebody else. It's a shame, mostly because it was a nice piece of art, but also because he has to hide like that.

I think that's why he's remained so 'in the closet' about his feelings for me. I blame Daiya and his gang for it entirely. But I suppose I only have them to thank for his attendance here at Hope's Peak; without them, he'd never be the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader. Maybe he'd attend under the pseudonym "Ultimate Artist", after all, he is the best artist I've ever seen.

I don't understand why Mondo looks up to Daiya so much. The most Daiya has going for him is that I like the colour of his hair, but he doesn't nearly compare to Mondo in any way. I suppose that's how people with siblings are? Always looking up to the elder? I'm not sure. My parents never wanted more than one child, which gives me their full attention but led to disturbing loneliness that has followed me throughout my life. Mondo's lonely too, though. Sure, he has the gang; he has the brother; he has friends. But he's lonely. I know that for a fact. Not just because he can't be himself around them, but I've seen him crying in his bed, late at night, muffling his sobs with the back of his hand. And for that reason, I know that Mondo and I have more in common than you'd think.

It sounds morbid, but I can'twait to kill Chihiro for him. It's an act of dedication, no? Every other killer out there is so selfish. They kill for their own want, their own desire, their own needs. But I'm doing it for Mondo. I'm entirely selfless in this act. I'm doing it because I'm in love, not because I want Chihiro's money, or because I'm jealous of him, no. No. I'm doing it for Mondo; I'm doing it because I love Mondo; I'm doing it because I need Mondo, and I think he'd appreciate that.

In Mathematics, I think the same things, laughing as Mondo flicks small paper balls over at Leon, but scalding Leon for "improper classroom behaviour". It's one thing for Mondo to do it (it's simply in his character), but for Leon to do it? No. It's irresponsible. The classroom falls silent as the teacher strides in. We then have the usual routine of nobody understanding, me being called on for the answer, getting the answer right, and falling back into my own thoughts once again. This applies to all lessons until lunch.

"I'm not hungry," I say protestingly as Hina thrusts half of her sandwich into my face. "Seriously, Hina, I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat Taka," she says, cautiously lowering the sandwich. "What have you eaten today?"

I laugh at her frustration a little bit. "I've eaten enough that I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?" Chihiro asks with hesitation in his voice. He probably knows that I'm going to kill him, can probably read my thoughts about smashing his pretty little face into the table right now as I turn to him.

I'm going to fucking murder you, I try to say, only it comes out in the form of, "yes. Both of you need to stop being so worried!"

"If he says he's not hungry," Sakura says, "then he's probably not hungry. Though, he is missing out on nutrients and protein." She chuckles and the others join her.

It's Sakura that I'm most afraid about. If she were to find out that I'm planning to murder Chihiro, then I would be the dead one. She could kill me with a single punch to the stomach, I'm sure of it. But it's unlikely she ever would find out. I've been meticulous with everything before (homework, birthday parties, exams, studying) and this isn't any different. Once, I planned a surprise party that the person whose birthday we were celebrating said it was the best he'd ever been to.

I stand up impulsively and all three sets of eyes turn to stare at me. "Where are you going, Taka?" Chihiro asks. He almost looks like he has tears welded to his eyes. Pathetic.

"Just to the bathroom." I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"With your bag?"

"...Yes."

"Oh."

I don't move for a while, feeling fixed to the spot, before I awkwardly blurt, "bye," and turn, leaving. I walk a little faster than usual, hardly noticeable, but certainly faster. I plan to grab the dumbbell from the gym, stuff it into my bag, hope nobody notices it's missing and then clean it and return it tomorrow. On my way, so wrapped up in my thoughts and planning, I bump into Mahiru.

"Please watch where you're going, Ishimaru."

"Sorry." I try to walk past her, my eyes fixated on the ground, but she steps out to block my path. "I need to get past."

"Where's my camera? You said you'd give it back, but I haven't seen it in a while."

"Crap, sorry." Her body relaxes as she sighs.

"Just give it back to me tomorrow." She then walks past me, continuing her walk wherever she was going.

I almost thought I'd been caught looking suspicious for a moment there. Fortunately, Mahiru isn't the most tolerate or observant when it comes to me; I just think that she doesn't care enough to think more about me than she has to. I slip into the gym with no thoughts on my mind other than obtaining this dumbbell and then getting the heck out.

No thoughts on my mind other than killing Chihiro.

For the first time in years, I'm not thinking about Mondo.

"Shit, hey, Taka!" his voice says. I almost tell my mind to be quiet before I notice him, sitting down, doing a few reps of biceps curls. His coat is hung over the seat beside him, and the only thing blocking out his body is that far-too-tight sleeveless, muscle shirt that becomes sheer with sweat. His focus doesn't seem to be on anything in particular.

"Hi, Mondo." I stay still where I am, careful not to move unless I do something wrong.

"Never seen ya in the gym before. What brings ya here?"

"I just-" For some reason, my brain can't produce a full, coherent sentence. I make a vague gesture to the direction of where the school stock the dumbells and barbells and manage to say, "dumbbell."

"You wanna borrow mine?" he offers all too politely.

"No, thank you. I don't particularly like working out in school."

"Shit, man, why not? You're ripped as hell, everybody would be jealous." He laughs and then his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. "Not that I'm staring- I just noticed in gym class last week- I mean-"

I can't help but let out a chuckle at how flustered he is. "It's alright. I understand what you mean."

He nods as if he feels excused of his embarrassment, but his cheeks remain bright red. "So, whatdoes bring ya here?"

I can't tell him the truth, not right now and not here, but I don't want to lie to him, so I simply work around the details, "I wanted to know if you can borrow a dumbbell from school. And then return it, of course."

"Don't ya have yer own?"

"No. My family can't afford them." His body stiffens and posture straightens as his face further reddens, "shit, I'm sorry man."

I smile light-heartedly. "It's not your fault. It's how it is sometimes."

"Well, I'm...I'm sure you can just take one of the dumbells."

"Are you certain? Did a member of staff tell you? I don't want to get in trouble-" Mondo cuts me off with a roar of laughter, his head knocking back and shoulders shaking. He laughs for a moment before his posture slumps and he turns to me, grinning.

"Just take one, bro! I won't tell." He winks.

"But what if somebody finds out?!"

"You think this is the kinda school where security cameras and monitors are up everywhere?" He chuckles. He places the dumbbell onto the ground before striding over to me. I feel my breath quickening as he approaches, but I don't dare move.

He grabs my arms, grinning, eyeing me up and down, before brushing some imaginary dust off of my shoulders. "Ya gotta stop being so tense all the time. Lighten up, bro."

"Oh- I'm sorry." My heart pounds in my head at the thought of his hands on me, his face and mine separated by a mere few inches of empty space. I could kiss him right now. He could kiss me right now. And I think he knows this as he steps back. If his face wasn't red before, it certainly is now.

"Gimme yer bag." He stretches a hand out and I compulsively hand it over, my other arm glued to my side and my posture fixed, unmoving. He walked away, over to the dumbbell rack stand. "What weight d'ya want?" he calls over.

"The heaviest," I blurt out. He shrugs and grabs one with ease, carefully placing it in my bag. He zips the bag up before spinning on his heel and coming back over. Again, my heart rate quickens and my hands awkwardly drum at my legs, still not moving from my sides.

"Here ya go," he says, holding the bag out. "You be okay to carry it?" I take it from him, my hand falling with the unexpected weight but grimacing through it, nodding, before slinging it over my shoulder again. He laughs.

"I can getcha a lighter one if that's too heavy. It's nothin' to be embarrassed about, bro."

"No, no. It's perfect, thank you." I then pause as a thought crosses my mind. "You know Chihiro's in love with you, right?"

"What the fuck kinda joke is that, man?"

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. I assumed he told you. Pretend I never said anything, please."

I turn to leave but he grabs my wrist, spinning me back around. "What d'ya mean he's in love with me?"

"He never stops talking about you and keeps spewing all these intricate facts about you, like- no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't tell you this."

"Shit, man." His hand lets go of mine. "Ya sure he's in love with me?"

I nod. "He told me. Just a day or so ago." He looks away from me, contemplative. "Sorry, I have to get back," I say.

"Yea, no sweat, bro." But he takes a few, staggering steps back, his eyes distant and body telling me that everything isn't okay.

I turn, leave, unable to resist smiling at everything that I've set into motion.

-------

The day ends and I'm walking home with Chihiro when he asks me, "Taka, do you think Mondo will ever love me back?"

I want to laugh at him, at how weak he sounds asking me stupid crap like that, but instead, I say, "have you told him that you like him? He can't love you back if he doesn't know thatyou love him in the first place."

"I tried to tell him, I did, I promise. But when I'm around him, I just seize up. He's so...cool. I'm scared of what he'll say when- if I tell him."

"I talked to him at lunch."

"Did he say anything about me?"

"I brought you up if that's what you're asking." I look down at him through the corner of my eye and I see his eyes light up with hope, his cheeks turning ever so slightly pink. He's half-skipping along the sidewalk beside me, following me to this 'tea shop', trusting me in everything that I say.

"What did he say?"

"He didn't know who I was talking about." Chihiro stops dead in his tracks. I turn around to look at him. "I'm sorry, Chi."No, I'm not."Maybe Mondo's just not the right guy for you."He's not."I tried to explain to him who you are, but he just seemed lost. And then, when it finally seemed to click, he just spat at me that he's not gay."

"Just when I thought he liked me," he whispers, tears forming in his eyes, his hands raised defensively near his chin.

"Maybe some tea will help you feel better," I suggest with a smile. God knows it'll make me feel better. He forces a weak smile before nodding and continuing to walk. We take a sharp right into a dark alleyway, further shadowed by the sun has already found its way into the horizon. Sometimes it's startling just how quickly the sun sets in these late months.

As we reach a dead-end, encircled by a dumpster and some trash cans, Chihiro tentatively asks, "Taka, are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Hang on," I say, putting my bag onto the ground and unzipping it. Chihiro stands in front of me, watching me, a pleasurable fear dancing in his eyes. "Let me just check my phone." I grab the dumbbell and, all too quickly, hit him with it. But the weight slows me down and, instead of killing him, he falls to the floor, yelling.

Blood is dripping down onto his forehead, but he's far from dead. Far even from unconscious. "You- You're in love with Mondo, aren't you?" he spits through cries of pain, clutching his head. The blood leaks through the spaces between his fingers. "That's why you're doing this?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Chi." 'Chi'. It was a nickname I had coined for him and others had adopted. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to use it. I squat down beside him. "How much do you think you like Mondo?" I raise the dumbbell higher into the air, preparing to swing.

"So much, Taka, so much! I wouldn't hurt him. You don't have to worry about that!"

"Fuck you, Chi. Do you think you love him more than me? Is that what this fucking is? You think you love Mondo more than I fucking do, you bastard?" I shatter one of his kneecaps and he falls back, screaming in agony. "You ever killed somebody for him?"

"That's not love! You don't love him!" he manages to say through his pain, though his voice is weakening and he can't speak with as much anger as I think he'd like.

"Yes, I fucking do!"

"No, you're obsessed with him...if he finds out what you're doing...he'll never love you back." He gasps either for air or out of pain or whatever. I bring the dumbbell down on his head, climbing on top of him. I hit him once, twice, three times, four times, all in the same spot. Blood from his skull spits out onto my face and my arm is beginning to weaken but I don't stop even for a second.

The air smells of copper and already like rot. His neck is bent at an obscure angle, unlike any I've seen before. And his face is just a cave of blood and gore. "He's mine," I scream before I bludgeon him one last time. I move my hand away and let the dumbbell roll from my hand and hit the ground.

"Chihiro...?" I manage to whimper as I look at the mess I've made. There's blood on my shirt, pants, face, hands; it's in my hair and on the floor. It's made its way to the wall and the trash cans.

Chapter 6: Blood Shower

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

"What have I done?" I mouth, running my hands through my hair, kneeling over Chihiro's body. The blood spreads around my hands and through my hair. He's unrecognisable for Chihiro from the shoulders up. I stare at his face...his lack of face...before I start laughing. A chuckle at first and then, with the heels of my palms pressed against my temples, an unrestrained, maniacal sort of roar of laughter. And I can't stop laughing. I feel tears pouring down my eyes, unblinking, as I proceed to laugh. His hands are so cold and he's so pale. He's covered in blood and gore, brains and skull. I look down at myself, covered in almost half as much blood. God, I look like shit! And I can't stop laughing! All of it is just so funny. I'm a murderer now. I'm a fucking murderer! "For Mondo."

I nod as I stand and plan what to do next. I hadn't thought this far ahead. This is one of the poorer parts of the town, so I could simply leave it as is and I don't think many people would notice or care to call the police. Even so, it's still too obvious. It's late enough and I hope that my parents are out of the house. Oh God, my parents. I know that my mother will be gone, but I'm certain that my father's still home. If he saw me like this, he'd turn me in to the police without hesitation. He'd not be in the wrong to do so. Well, not at first. He doesn't know why I had to do this so I can't blame him if he turns me him. But if I told him that I did it for love, he might forgive me. He might even help me clean everything up. For now, I'm on my own in this.

I open one of the metal trash cans up, simply glad to see that it's empty. I'm still laughing but it's started to die down back into a giggle. I pick up Chihiro's bloody corpse, starting to giggle a little more at the way he looks now. "No more Mondo for you," I joke, laughing. "He's all mine now. All mine." I gently place his body in the trash can, watching the way it folds in on itself, the empty cave of his skull peering down at his knees. I take a trash bag from the dumpster, placing it atop his body. I push the bag down until the body is entirely hidden. Technically, I should burn the body or cut it up or something. Wait. If they can't figure out who the body is, surely it becomes less likely to figure out I killed him.

I take the trash bag out of the trash can, pouring Chihiro's corpse out onto the ground. I stifle more laughter, picking up the dumbbell again. One by one, I smash his fingers. Index, middle, ring, little finger, thumb. Index, middle, ring, little finger, thumb. His teeth are lying, scattered on the floor and I pick each of them up, careful to tuck them tight inside of my pocket so that not a single will fall out. I grimace, unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his shoes and trousers. I leave his underwear, hoping they don't have his name embroidered inside of them. I don't know enough about Forensics to understand whether his hair will help the police identify him or not. I hope it doesn't. I smash his feet and shatter his other kneecap for good measure before picking up his limp body, using his shirt to clean the dumbbell to the best of my ability, and placing it back into the trash can. Trashbag on top. Add the lid. Et voila.

Now, what do I do about the blood on the ground? With the shape of the alley, I can only hope it's not noticeable in the daylight. The alley has a sort of L shape to it. It starts off a narrow corridor and then becomes a wider, more horizontal. The trashcans are overflowing with food that looks to be at least a year old and other waste that doesn't look new. Plus, there seems to be something resembling a rotten corpse of an animal in the corner, so I don't expect that people come down here much. I sigh. Let's just hope for the best. I put the dumbbell back into my bag, looking to make sure I haven't made any footprints in the blood, which I haven't to my relief.

Somewhere along the line, Chihiro's phone fell out of his pocket. It's locked, with a passcode, but I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out sooner or later. I stuff it deep into my pocket and stifle a chuckle at the sight of the blood on the floor. The sky only darkens and I can tell that nobody is out this far into the night. No footsteps, no car engines, no anything, except the sounds of my breath and flies buzzing around the garbage cans.

I sigh and walk home, Chihiro's clothes folded and under one of my arms. It's a shorter walk than usual, but every so often I have to pause and make sure nobody can see me, though, in this light, I'm a mere shadow.

Our car isn't in the driveway. But I'm not sure if that's due to my mother being interviewed or my father being out. No lights are on in the house. I can't see, nor hear, any commotion or movement inside of the house, so I can only assume they're both out for the time being. If my father has started drinking again, then he'll probably be out until the early morning. And if none of the lights is on in the house, either my mother won't be in or she'll be asleep.

I unlock the door, trying to make as little noise as possible; as I enter, I call out 'hello?', waiting for a response. I cringe as I wait in anticipation for the reply. Nothing. I sigh with relief as I turn on the hall light and begin to take off my bloodied shirt. I stroll into the bathroom, throwing my shirt into the sink and then proceeding to get naked. I dare to take a look into the mirror, seeing only my waist up. My hands, face, hair are soaked in the pink of Chihiro's blood.

I climb into the shower, turning the heat to its maximum and the shower on full. I don't wait for it to begin to warm up, instead, stand under the gushing water. I look at my hands, the blood beginning to melt from my fingers. When I turned fifteen, I hated how skinny I was. Every other guy my age was working out, beginning to get more and more muscular (besides Hifumi, but he's an outlier in this case). Ever since then, I swore to a strict, disciplined workout routine, every morning, every night. I'm not as pleased with my body as I think I'd like to be, but I'm on my way.

I run my hands through my hair, beginning to shake despite the heat, as I think about what Mondo is doing right now. I smile subconsciously as I think about him touching himself, not knowing that Chihiro is dead; I'm almost certain that's what he's doing now. Touching himself. "Jerking off," as he says to Leon sometimes. Moaning and whining. He might be asleep by now, but I don't doubt that he didn't do it at least once when he came home. Lately, every time I seem to think about Mondo in my own home I end up doing...that...as well. I love him so madly that I'd sacrifice even the title of Ultimate Moral Compass for him.

Thinking back to what Chihiro said before I killed him, my hands ball into fists at my sides. "He does love me!" I yell, sputtering as the water falls into my mouth. "He does! He does! He does!" Even if it takes him a while to realise it, he does love me.

He does love me. He does love me. He does love me. He does love me. He does love me. He does love me. He does lo-

I'm not...hard, am I? I don't want to look down, but there's a feeling in my stomach. Fuck, I am. No, ignore it. This time you can ignore it. Just...how do you fix it?Touch yourself- No.I'm sure I can just...what? Goddammit, this is the only part about loving Mondo that's difficult for me: I'd never been so aroused before falling in love with him. I never know what to do in this situation.Just touch yourself, man,I hear Mondo's voice in the back of my head say, do it for me.

Well, if Mondo asks me to do it...

My hand makes it's way to my member and instantly I grimace. "God-fucking-dammit, Mondo," I say, chuckling lightly, beginning to stroke up and down. Standing in the shower, so rigid in my posture, makes me feel uncomfortable so I lean forward, my forearm on the tile wall. I let out a high-pitched grunt. I dare to look down, watching my hand move up and down along my length. I let out a moan.

"Taka, are you home yet?" my mother calls. Her voice echoes through the house. My hand stops abruptly and I reply, "just having a shower, Mother!" My voice is breathy and shaky from the stimulation.

"Alright! Have you eaten yet?"

I panic and let out a "yes!" Only it comes out as more of a whine that I try to mask.

"Are you okay, Taka?" she says. Her voice is nearer now, by the door I think.

"Yes, Mother, I think the shower's too hot is all."

"I've told you about having the correct shower temperature, dear," she says and then I hear footsteps and clattering in the kitchen.

Fuck, I need this done with. My hand moves vigorously and quickly, up and down, up and down. I hear Mondo in the back of my head moaning my name, groaning with pleasure. "Fuck, Taka! You're so good!" he says. I seal my lips tightly shut as a groan rises in my throat, coming out as a humming sound that I don't think my mother could hear. I work my length faster and faster, waiting for that final moment of ecstasy before I can clean myself. I bite my lower lip as a familiar sensation rises from the base of my pelvis up to my stomach. Precum coats my hand but I don't stop for a second, instead, I work harder and faster to make myself finish. A few more strokes until I climax into my hand. One, two, three, four. I think about Mondo moaning. I think about my hand working myself. I think about his hand. His hands on me. His hands all over me. His mouth on my skin, kissing me. "Fuck!" I whine, trying to suppress it as best as I can before I finish. I don't stop abruptly, gradually slowing down my strokes before I take my hand away and wipe myself clean.

Jesus, Taka, you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

I wash my hair, taking a glance into the mirror to check if I still had any blood on me. No, all clean. Perfect. I turn off the shower, wrapping a clean, white towel around my waist before climbing out. The blood is still underneath my fingernails but I don't think anybody will notice or grow too suspicious. I try to scrape it out, clean it off with the towel, but its no use.

What to do about my clothes? I think I should just fold them and hide them and hope nobody ever finds them until I can think of a more suitable way to dispose of them. Chihiro's clothes, however, are a separate matter: they're staring at me blankly from the corner of the room that I had thrown them into, and now I'm not too sure what to do. I know. I'll hide them under my mattress, along with my clothes, and just pray to God it's another few years before I get a new mattress.

I can still hear my mother in the kitchen, cooking herself dinner. I fold up my clothes quickly and stack them atop of Chihiro's, moving between rooms with little to no pause or slowness to my step. I tuck the clothes under my mattress in two separate piles, never to be seen or heard of again. My boots, somehow, managed to remain clean throughout the whole process, which I'm glad for. I only have one pair of them and, if they had gotten damaged during the act, I would be forced to wear the platform school shoes I had worn once when I was thirteen.

I change into my pyjamas, taking the towel back into the bathroom, where my bag lies beside the sink. I pause in my tracks, having forgotten about the dumbbell. I hesitantly walk over to my bag, pulling the zipper open as if afraid that something alien might jump out and attack me, but, instead, I'm confronted with schoolbooks and a 5kg dumbbell. When I had wiped it with Chihiro's shirt before, it had gotten rid of most of the blood, but some still remained; I run it under hot water from the faucet, wiping it gently with the towel. The towel has a very light, vague, pink stain on it now (which I'll play off as the remnants of a nosebleed if anybody asks me about it), but the dumbbell is in perfect condition, arguably even more pristine than when I had borrowed it yesterday. I dry it off, placing it back into my bag, and then taking everything through to my bedroom.

"Taka, you ought to be getting to sleep now," my mother calls and I reply with something vague, along the lines of 'I am'.

I zip my bag up, place it beside my boots and climb into bed, asleep even before my head hits the pillow.

Chapter 7: Apocalypse

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

"Hey, Taka, you were with Chihiro last night, right?" Hina asks, her big, doe eyes looking up at me, frightful.

"Yes. Why? Is something the matter?" I reply. This is all a classic case of dramatic irony and I find it almost funny that they don't know what happened last night.

"Well..." Sakura gestures to Chihiro's empty seat, where he'd usually be sitting before class starts. "He's not here."

"Oh." I pause, quickly thinking of something to say. "Oh! It's probably because he's going to that overseas gaming convention. They have a famous programmer going." I don't know much of international conventions so I hope something like that is going on somewhere. Best not to get too specific about location, though.

"Where?"

"London or Paris, somewhere like that." Let's just hope they don't look into it.

"And he didn't tell us?" Hina asks. She sounds suspicious, suspicious enough that I should probably say something to disarm her.

"His parents surprised him with the plane tickets when we were walking home. I think he was just too excited to call or text you guys."

Sakura stares at me, long and hard with harsh eyes. A wave of panic sweeps over me and I stifle the need to gulp, as my mouth dries up. Then, as soon as I'm sure she's going to pry further, she shrugs and says, "I suppose that's fair enough."

"He told you that he might not have internet, or be able to call," I say suddenly, sitting down in my seat. My leg bounces below the desk. "I'm sure he'll text as some point, though." I had forgotten that I had taken his phone; if I can get into it, I'll be able to message them, pretending to be him, and that'll hopefully disarm their fears.

"Hm...I mean that's strange, but I can't quite hold it against him." Hina sighs, resting her chin in her hand. "You don't think something bad's happened to him do you?"

"What kind of question is that, Hina?" I ask, laughing, though I can feel sweat building up on my upper lip. "Of course he's fine. Look, if he's not back in a couple of days, we can start our own investigation."

Hina laughs and grins, beaming, "haha, yeah! We can get Kyoko to help!" Crap, how had I forgotten that the Ultimate Detective is in our class? Nevermind, I'm sure she won't care much until Chihiro's body is discovered. It's not like she pays much attention to anybody except Celeste or Makoto anyway. It always occurred to me that she must be dating one of them. Maybe even both of them. No, no, Makoto doesn't seem to be a big fan of Celeste.

On the topic of love, where is Mondo? I can't see him in the class anywhere, so he must just be later than usual. What if he's ill? I could bring him some soup. I can't make soup but I could learn. What if he found out about Chihiro? And he's not coming into school because he's grieving? Ha! Why would he begrieving over Chihiro? At most, it'd be a light few tears and then he'd come running into my arms. He'd kiss me and thank me and- Oh. Mondo just walked through the door.

He has his hands buried in his pockets and is looking around like he's suspicious. I wonder what he's thinking. He's probably just scoping out a member of his gang to talk to or- No. He just...sat down. Is he okay? I open my mouth to talk to him but, before I can even move from my seat, everybody's shuffling around, getting ready for History.

My bag is heavy as I place it down, and, for half a second, I wonder why. And then I realised: the dumbbell. The dumbbell that Mondo had so lovingly picked up and handed to me. I would keep it if it weren't for it being school property. Despite my having to wash the blood from it, I'm sure his scent still lingers. At least a little bit.

The teacher stands at the front of the class, talking, but I can't help that my attention drifts. Mondo's hands are still in his pockets and I can see his leg bouncing beneath the desk. Everybody takes out a pen; I can see the reluctance on his face for him to do the same. After a few seconds, he hesitantly pulls a hand out of his pocket. His...His fingernails are black? I see. He painted them. Normally, if it were anybody else, I'd have a comment to make about it, regarding its lack of formality, but it certainly suits Mondo. It makes him about five times as more attractive, which I didn't even think was possible. He keeps looking around, worried, but nobody's paying attention. Except me, of course.

His eyes catch mine and I look down quickly, staring at my hand that's been twirling a pen for a while now. Before I averted my gaze so suddenly, I saw his face redden as if he'd been caught in an embarrassing act. Nothing embarrassing about painting your nails, Mondo. I love you all the same.

-------

It's lunch and I can't find Mondo anywhere. It's not that I'm searching for him per se, but I've walked around the school at least twice and there's been no sign of him. I suppose I should take this as my message from above to simply return the dumbbell and head back to where Hina and Sakura are sitting in the cafeteria.

"Mondo," I say, feeling my face heat up as I open the door, seeing him doing sit-ups religiously on the floor. He's doing them rapidly, taking no time to slow down; his face is red and he's sweating.

"Shit, hey, Taka." He begins to slow as he sees me, but quickly shakes his head and continues with his sit-ups.

"You painted your nails."

He falls, a large thud sounding as his back makes contact with the floor. "No! I- Chihiro did them last night, that's all."

"I was with Chihiro last night." He makes a fearful sort of expression, but I let my subtle smile grow into a grin. "It's fine; I think they look good."

As I talk to him, I take the dumbbell from my bag and walk over to the stand. "Shit! I was expectin' a huge lecture about how dudes ain't supposed to paint their nails. But yer surprisingly relaxed about it."

Surprisingly? Am I really so strict all the time?

"Such rebellion can only be expected of the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader." I try to speak as playfully as I can, hoping he doesn't make me out to be so rule-bound as he apparently thinks I am. I throw him a short-lived wink, hoping to lighten it up a little. He lets out a laugh and smiles.

"Shit, man, you made me lose count of my sit-ups!"

"I'm sorry!" I try to say, but he cuts me off with a quick, "Hey, bro, I'm just kiddin'! Anyway, yer gonna be late for class if ya keep standing around, talking to me of all people."

"Yes, I should be going." I look at the clock on the wall: I have plenty of time, but it's better to be early than it is to be late. "It was nice talking to you." I turn and leave, having slung my backpack over my shoulder once again and placed the dumbbell back where it was.

"Bye," I can hear him say as the door shut softly behind me. There's a moment of pride instilled in me from being able to talk to Mondo this frequently and this expertly. You'd think I wasn't in love with him at all.

I decide to go back to the classroom; I think that Hina and Sakura are still in the cafeteria, and I'm sure the classroom will be mostly empty. People have extracurriculars and such at lunch, so I think I should be able to sit down and study a little. I haven't studied for Mathematics in a while. In fact, I haven't studied in general these past few days; I suppose Mondo has been more important to me than the futility that is academics.

Unluckily, Celestia has recently taken up challenging the boys in other classes to card games (or, more accurately, the boys in other classes have started challenging Celestia, under the false impression that they might best her) and has decided that our class is the most suitable location for such games. I've never gotten on particularly well with her, nor has she with me, but we both agree it best to leave our grievances to the side and pay little attention in the other's doings. Still, I sometimes find it funny to see the boys' reactions when she wins - and she's only ever lost once.

Today's opponent seems to be Kazuichi Souda. I don't know much about him, and we've never really spoken, but I do know that he's the Ultimate Mechanic. He has somewhat of a cocky air to him, though his eyes seem frightful; yes, his hands are shaking, but he keeps turning to those around him and saying that he 'knows how to win'. Those around him, however, seem not to believe him.

"Celeste, whaddya say we spice things up?" he says, taking a 1000 yen note from his pocket. It's crumpled up and looks like it's been festering away for a while. Celestia seems not to care at its dire state, though, as she takes a small, black frame purse from an inside pocket on her jacket. From it, she extracts a 10000 yen note.

I let out a small laugh. Well played, Celestia Ludenburg.

Kazuichi, a panicked expression now contorting his face into some kind of obscurity, turns his pockets inside out, slamming a fifty yen coin and a hundred yen coin onto the desk. Celestia chuckles. "Let's play," she says. My attention seems to drift as they begin to play a game that I don't recognise; then again, I never was one for card games.

All that you need to know is that Kazuichi certainly did not know how to win. He left the room, mumbling about how that was the last of his money. Celestia seems all too pleased, chuckling to herself as she puts her newfound earnings in her purse. I didn't manage to get much studying done, as I was far too wrapped up in the happenings of those around me. Lunch has come to its end: Mondo has returned from the gym and is chatting away happily to a few members of his gang, not caring that they can see his painted nails. At first, they had asked him if his nails were painted in a mocking tone, but he was quick to counteract their jokes and silence them with a shout. Hina and Sakura are talking in front of me, about what I couldn't tell you. Leon and Hiro have returned to their old antics. Everything seems peaceful.

-------

I decide to follow Mondo home tonight.

I hide behind the half-wall as he enters the house and, as soon as the door shuts, I can hear shouting and yelling from within. Two voices: Daiya's and, unmistakably, Mondo's. I wonder what they're arguing about. One of the window's in the kitchen (where they've drifted towards) is open, so I can only hear some of their conversation.

"You are unbelievably fucking selfish!" Daiya says.

"Fuckin' speak for yerself! Yer hardly ever fuckin' home anymore and I have to do fuckin' everything!"

"Oh, heaven fuckin' forbid that you have to do some shit for yourself for once in your fucking life."

I didn't know it was possible to use so many obscenities in a few sentences.

"Are ya not meant to be my fuckin' brother?! Aren't ya meant to fuckin' help me out every now and then? I'm runnin' this fuckin' gang and having to fill in for you every fuckin' day, because what? Some bitch gets you too hard and fucking her is more important than spending time with your younger fuckin' brother?"

"Don't speak about her like that!"

"Oh, I am so fuckin' sorry, Daiya! Truly, I am. D'ya want me to lick your boots all clean for ya or can I go upstairs andtry to do some fuckin' math work that I haven't been able to do since I'm too busy doing fulfilling all of your fuckin' responsibilities!"

"Think aboutme for a fucking second, Mondo. Think about howI must feel."

"I fuckin' do! Every fuckin' second of every fuckin' day! That's why I'm too fuckin' busy trying to convince everybody that yer not giving up on them. Shit, man, I'm too busy tryna convince myself that yer not giving up onme.Why the fuck d'ya think I'm failing nearly all of my fuckin' classes?!"

There's silence. And then a door slams. I can see Daiya's faint, dying shadow still in the kitchen, so it must be Mondo who left. Hearing Mondo so angry made me begin to sweat, either out of anger or...another feeling, but I could hear his sadness peer through as his voice began to become hoarse.

I had no idea thatthis is what his relationship with his brother is really like. I've heard them argue a few times before, but not about anything that seems too serious. Mondo always speaks so highly of Daiya, especially in class, so this is as unexpected as anything.

The front door opens and then shuts, so I hop over the half-wall and hope nobody sees me. Mondo is still in his room, pacing back and forth, so that means Daiya must have left. A motorcycle engine revves and then drives away, passing in front of me.

I would do anything to make Mondo happy.

And if his brother is making him feel this unhappy, then I suppose he's in the way.

Chapter 8: Doom Doom Doom

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I have a good amount of money in my second drawer at home. It's not a lot per se, but it would be enough to persuade somebody to let me borrow their car. It's money that I've saved up to buy myself a phone, but some things seem more important. Besides, for now, I have Chihiro's phone. What's he going to do? Use it?

I go home, aware that the sun is beginning to set, preparing to ask my parents if I can go on a late-night walk.

"Taka, you're home earlier than usual," my mother coos, greeting me from the dining room doorway. She has worry in her eyes. The not-so-distant smell of whiskey and cigarettes stumbles through the house.

"We didn't get assigned any homework today."

"Fucking liar!" my father's voice, coated in the thickness of drunken anger, shouts from the dining room. That must be why my mother has replaced the door. "You're getting lazy, Ishimaru. You're getting like your grandfather. You pathetic fucking failure."

My hands ball into fists at my sides, but I unclench them before my mother can notice. She looks at me apologetically; I don't pay much attention to her, deciding instead to just walk to my room. I open up the second drawer of my side table: around 40000 yen stares at me in the face. I could have sworn it was closer to fifty thousand, though I wouldn't be surprised if my father had robbed me blind to buy more cheap liquor. I stuff the money in my pockets quickly, hoping that nobody spots me. Now that I think about it, forty thousand yen doesn't seem like enough to convince a stranger to let me drive their car.

I wish I could have more time to plan this all out, but saving this for tomorrow mightn't be the best option.

Maybe I don't need to kill Daiya. No, Kiyotaka, what are you thinking? He needs to die. He needs to. He needs to he needs to he needs to he needs to. He just needs to get out of Mondo's life. If I paid him to leave for a few weeks...it would give me more time to plan out his eventual murder. Yes, okay, that seems like the beginning of a plan.

I'll buy him off for a few weeks, tell him to get on his motorcycle and leave, get him to write a note to Mondo that he's leaving. Perhaps Mondo would be sad if he were to hear that his brother was murdered. This way, Daiya livesand leaves at the same time. I think that's a good compromise.

Now let's hope that I can find him around these streets.

-------

After walking around for a little while, I see him slip into an alleyway. Normally, I'd question what he's doing, but in these circumstances, I don't care. He could be readying himself for an armed robbery and all I would care about is him getting the heck out of Mondo's life. I pause for a few moments before crossing the dark street and following him into the alleyway. He parked his motorcycle just outside, which is awfully trusting for somebody who seems to value his motorcycle more than anything else.

The alleyway is extremely shadowed and has a damp, choking air that swallows you as soon as you step foot between those tall, looming, red bricks. All is silent. There are no voices, no rats scuttling around, even my footsteps are muffled into noiselessness. I would have thought myself turned deaf if not for a single, groan-like sound that floated through. I'd heard the sound made a few times before, namely by Mondo.

Daiya's silhouette is unmistakable. His hair and long coat give him away instantaneously, just as Mondo's does. That's why, even in the pitch blackness of this alleyway, I knew it was him, leaning with his back against the wall. His head was rocked back and he was making muffled...sounds. There was...somebody...between his legs, doing...things...and Daiya's hands were firmly planted in the other's hair.

"Daiya," I say, brusque enough that the other man stands promptly and turns away.

"Holy fucking shit," Daiya whispers to himself, panic streaking his voice as he fumbles with his pants. "What? What? Who the fuck are you, man?" The darkness of the alley obscures my identity, I had forgotten.

"I'll give you forty thousand yen if you leave Mondo alone for the next few weeks." I purposefully try to lower my voice. I take the stack of notes out of my pocket and hold them out to him.

"Or what?" He laughs; his voice is still breathy and slightly shaky.

"Or I'll tell Mondo."

"Tell him what?" He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at me, mockingly. I gesture, with the hand holding the money, over to the flustered-looking man over in the corner, who's running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself. A light in Daiya's eye shifts.

"When do you want me gone?"

"Sunrise at the latest." Daiya lets out a laugh.

"Fuck no!"

"You can write Mondo a note to say goodbye and that you'll be gone for a few months."

"Fuck that, you said 'weeks' before-"

"You're embarrassed that you're gay and you don't want your brother to find out. I'm just using what I know to my advantage."

He tries to laugh, but he sounds defensive and worried. "I'm not a faggot."

"He thinks you are," I say, gesturing over to the man once again. He looks young, not illegally so, but younger than Daiya.

Daiya looks over his shoulder at the man; he's biting his nails and Daiya looks almost apologetic in the dimness of the lights. "Please, man," the man says, his voice breaking, "my parents can't find out: they'll kill me. You'll get paid. Please, Daiya."

"How many months?" Daiya finally asks after a pause.

"Six."

"No."

"Daiya-" the man starts, but Daiya shoots a harsh look his way and he falls silent.

"You're going to leave for six months. I have the superiority here."

"Tell me who you are and then I'll agree."

"My name is Leon Kuwata." His is the first name that comes to my mind, which is almost advantageous given that we're the same height. "Now take the money, write Mondo a note, and go."

"You...you won't tell anybody, will you?" the man asks, his voice timid, still from the corner.

"I won't, I swear on my man's honour."

Daiya snatches the money from my hand. (Quite rudely might I add, has this man no manners?).

"Okay, now get the fuck outta here, Leo or whatever ya name was."

I nod and turn away, leaving quickly.

-------

At school the next day, I see Mondo sitting at a desk in the corner, a piece of paper in his hands and his posture as slumped as ever. He almost looks teary-eyed, but I know that he isn't the type to cry in public. It's still early, in fact the school has only just opened its doors. I'm usually the first to arrive and Mondo is usually one of last; why is he so early? More importantly, why does he look so sad?

"Fuck!" he says, noticing me. He wipes his nose with the heel of his palm and stuffs the piece of paper into his pocket. "Hey, Taka."

"Good morning, Mondo," I say. I'm standing in the doorway and he looks like a school student that's just been caught running in the hallways. His eyes are puffy and red. He...he definitely has been crying. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" He lets out a laugh that's far too obviously fake. "'Course I'm fine, bro. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're never usually here this early; your eyes are bloodshot and red; you're biting your nails as we speak-"

"Shit, man, I get it. I'm not good at hiding my emotions." He forces another fake laugh.

"No! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant-" I rush over to him, a few seats away from sitting beside him when he speaks again.

"I know, I know." He bites his lip, looks down and then looks back up at me. "I can trust ya with a secret, right? I know we're not super close or anythin', but...I don't know, man, I need somebody to talk to."

I lower myself into the seat beside him. "You can talk to me whenever, about whatever."

He tries to smile and then takes out the piece of paper from his pocket, handing it to me.

It reads:

Mondo,

I'm not going to be there in the morning. I've decided to leave for a few months. I've taken my girlfriend with me. You're in charge of the Crazy Diamonds, probably forever now. I'm sorry I can't be a better brother, or a better leader. You've always been the best out of the two of us. I love you, Mondo, even if that sounds sappy as shit. Make some more friends, go on a few dates, live your life. I don't know what it's going to be like when I get back. I'm sorry.

- your older brother, Daiya

"I'm sorry," I stammer, tears boiling to the surface of my eyes as I speak.

"No sweat, bro, it's not your fault." He takes the piece of paper from my hands. His eyes are glassy too as I look up at him.

"I'm sorry," I say again.

And all I can do is look up at him, smiling weakly.

Chapter 9: I Had To.

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

"You did it for him, Taka," I say to myself in the bathroom mirror. "It's good in the long run, Kiyotaka. Daiya deserved worse than what you let him get away with, Ishimaru." And it's true. Daiya deserves todie for how he made Mondo feel, but I was moral, arguably naive, and let him get away with simply leaving.

I've been standing here, talking to myself, for the better portion of fifteen minutes and I think it's about time that I head back into the classroom. Mondo didn't seem to mind when I told him that I needed to use the bathroom, namely because I was crying heavier than I think I ever have before, but the others will be in the classroom by now and I'd hate for them to have to ask Mondo why I'm not there.

The classroom is almost full as I enter it. Hina has a sober, serious look on her face as she talks to Sakura. Byakuya is looking down upon Makoto as they talk to one another (or rather as Byakuya monologues and Makoto is forced to listen). Mondo is smiling weakly every once in a while as members of his gang talk with him and one another. I sit down with Hina and Sakura, not before taking a final glance in Mondo's direction.

"Can I talk to you after school, Taka?" Hina asks, her voice unusually flat and toneless as if she were being controlled by another.

"Of course," I say. I don't think there's any reason she should be mad at me, or upset with me, so maybe something else in her home life has happened and has translated to her natural demeanour. "Is everything alright, Hina?"

She pauses and then says, "yes," though she doesn't sound too convinced. My attention drifts over to Mondo, standing, cornered by his friends, a fake attempt at a smile plastered onto his face. Sakura and Hina begin to talk, not about anything important, just shows they watched last night, and music they listened to and like. Every time I see his sad eyes I can only think to myself that Mondo just doesn't know that Daiya leaving is a good thing. The only other time I ever recall Mondo looking so sad is when his dog, Chuck, died. He loved that dog. He loved Daiya.

But what's most important is that he loves me.

I hear Mondo say that he'll go out riding with his gang tonight, which is unfortunate for me, as I had quite the plan to watch him tonight, make sure that he's okay, though Hina interrupted that idea already. He agrees to go riding tomorrow as well, which gives me time to plan something that I had been wanting to do for a while now.

Go into his house.

It's not breaking in, because he always leaves his door unlocked just in case I ever find the courage to enter. I don't want to disturb anything or do anything immoral whilst I'm there; I simply want to be there because I'd like to see how he lives. Of course, I already know the fundamentals and where everything is in his bedroom, but the rest of his house, for the most part, remains a mystery.

"So I'll come to yours after school, right, Taka?" Hina asks and I'm not fully concentrating as I agree.

"Sure," I say, my voice muffled by my thoughts.

"Did anybody notice that Mondo doesn't look as...composed...as usual?" Sakura asks, her voice almost bellowing. By saying Mondo's name a sickly feeling rises in me again, a feeling I remember well from seeing Chihiro force himself against Mondo.

"I wouldn't ever say Mondo looks composed," Hina hisses, chuckling. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands. It usually takes him a while in the morning to get ready, his eyeliner slowing him down the most; perhaps Mondo just looks effortless in Hina's eyes, as he does mine, but there is certainly more to his appearance than waking up in the morning and getting dressed.Sakura laughs along with her.

But I understand what Sakura's saying: his eyeliner is smudged around the edges, his shirt is half-hanging out of his trousers, his belt is askew from the centre. Mondo doesn't look like the type to put too much effort into his appearance, but, credit where credit is due, he certainly does. He looks as perfect as ever.

"What do you think, Taka? Don't you think that he looks more unpresentable than usual?" Hina asks, a thread of mockery in her voice.

"He needs to fix his hair," I say. They laugh, thinking I mean the pompadour itself, but I smile, knowing that I mean the out of place hairs that curl from the pompadour and stick out haphazardly. I used to make jokes about how I disliked the pompadour, heck, I used to actually dislike the pompadour, but the more I fell in love with Mondo, the more I realised how much effort he puts into sculpting his head of hair every morning.

The glances I steal in Mondo's direction, the more he blocks out everything else in the room. My thoughts are consumed and sounds become drowned, underwater-like. I let myself imagine him pressed up against me from behind, my shirt half-hanging off my shoulders and his hair down from the pompadour, his lips gently kissing my skin, murmuring how much he loves me between each. His soft lips outlining my jaw. His hands on my body working their way down to my groin. The sound of my soft, subdued moans as his hands trace my body. Him, on his knees in front of me, teas caused by the joy of our closeness smudging his eyeliner.

I try to erase these thoughts from my mind, but the more I try, the more they flood in. My pants tighten and my eyes begin to widen as I realise. "I need to use the bathroom," I blurt before standing and leaving the classroom in more of a hurry than ever before.

"Class is about to start-" I hear Hina say as I leave, but her voice drifts and is cut off by my leaving.

I burst into the bathroom's, shutting the door softly behind me; all of the stalls are empty, but I don't want to risk having anybody walk in on me as I try to satiate my body. It's rare for somebody to use these bathrooms if they aren't directly nearby or aren't incredibly desperate, which is why I chose them as opposed to the nearer bathrooms. I dart into the furthest stall from the door, making sure it's locked before sitting down. I hate to do things so unsuited for a school environment; one of my biggest fears growing up was being forced to run in the halls and now look at me. Tugging down my underwear desperately in a school bathroom stall.

My hand moves down to my member instinctively. I've done this so many times in the past few days that I'd argue I'm almost getting good at it. A familiar sensation ripples through my stomach as my hand moves up and down. A few months ago even just thinking about this act would be met with feelings of guilt, disgust, self-loathing and now it seems that this is just another part of my day. I snap my eyes shut as my hand begins to move more vigorously; I think only of Mondo, of him touching himself, of the possibility that one day he might touch me like that. If I were a year younger, I'd be calling myself disgusting as I do this, but it's a good thing I'm not a year younger. I try to stifle a moan but, no matter how tight I shut my mouth, an 'mmm' slips out anyway. "God, Mondo," I whine in a moment of vulnerability.Mondo, Mondo, Mondo, Mondo,I think as my hand speeds up again. In my mind, he would be compassionate but rough, forceful but gentle; the thought of him pressing me against a wall as his lips kiss my naked body only makes another moan push itself out of my throat. He'd throw me onto his bed and then make love to me for hours, aggressively, making sure I'm okay with everything beforehand. And then another groan gets caught in my throat and pushed out as I finish into my hand. I continue working my member until I'mfully finished when I grab a large amount of toilet paper and clean myself off.

I pant as I tuck my shirt back into my trousers, my mouth and throat as dry as ever. I leave the stall warily, drifting to the sink to wash my hands before I see Hiro standing there.

My hands ball into fists at my sides, my face reddening, my shoulders tensing.

"You have fun in there, little man?" he says, laughing as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. My face further reddens as I try to stammer for something to say.

"I didn't-"

"I won't tell anybody, man," says Hiro, playfully punching my shoulder. "I didn't realise that the Ultimate Moral Compass was allowed to do stuff like that, though."

"He's not," I say through my teeth as I wash my hands.

"Did you say a name in there-"

"No!" I yell, knowing it to be too suspicious but being unable to help myself from my aggressivity. "How..." I begin, my voice softening, "how long were you standing there?"

"Not that long. I heard you moan a few times but that's about it..." His voice trails off. "Nothin' to be embarrassed about, little dude. Everybody does it."

We stand in silence staring at each other for a while.

"But I mean you really just went straight to doing it at school, huh?" I push past him as he says this, knocking his shoulder backwards and causing him to stumble backwards.

-------

The school day ends and I walk back to my house with Hina. I didn't get a final glance at Mondo before I left school, because Hiro was sitting in between us and I couldn't bring myself to look at him after the bathroom incident. Hina's talking about something, a TV show I think, but I'm not too sure, whilst I don't pay much attention. Her voice is still flat and toneless, but every other syllable is oddly energetic and over-enthusiastic, which makes me think she's trying to sound natural. I'm just worried about what she's going to talk to me about. I've not done anything too problematic recently, so it's likely that she has just misconstrued something I've said. Or maybe she has a crush on me. I let myself laugh at the thought. Luckily for me, Hina's laughing at something that she said so my sudden chuckling isn't too strange.

I let her into my house; our car isn't there and the lights aren't on. I call out hello as I enter, but nobody responds. "The house all to ourselves, eh?" Hina jokes as she enters, but her words sound forced.

"You didn't eat anything at lunch," I say. 2Would you like me to make you something now? A sandwich?" I don't know why I offer her some food, but I do and she accepts. We drift into the kitchen.

I take out some lettuce, cucumber, ham, and two slices of bread. I begin to prepare the sandwich as she speaks.

"So...what I wanted to talk to you about..." she says, her voice dull but timid. I glance up, encouraging her to progress as I take a knife from our knife stand and begin to cut the cucumber. "It's Chihiro."

I don't let her see how my face contorts at his name, instead, I keep my eyes focused on the cucumber and the motion of the knife.

"I've not heard from him in a while."

Is she going to say what I hoped she wouldn't say?

"So I tried to contact his parents."

This isn't how I wanted this to go.

"Why did you lie to me about where Chihiro was? Where is he, Taka?"

And all of a sudden I'm driving the knife into her stomach.

Chapter 10: Everybody Makes Mistakes

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

"Why?" is the last thing she can say before she falls to the ground. Her eyes are dull and glassy, softly shutting as her body hits the wooden floor of the kitchen. I squat down beside her and say, "because you knew too much," to her corpse before pulling the knife out of her stomach.

I sigh, look up out of the window to the darkness, and then look down at Hina. She seems so peaceful in death. I wonder what her final thought was; hopefully, it was one of regret. Hina's death is entirely my fault, the result of my sloppy handiwork. Hina's death is the only death that I've done for myself above Mondo, and I can already feel the sensation of guilt rising within me. Until it becomes too dominant, however, I need to figure out what I'm going to do about the body.

I throw the knife in the sink. There's a compost bin at the back of our yard that neither my mother nor my father has gone near since we bought it two year's ago, which, if I can remember correctly, seems to be about Hina's height in length. I stretch my arms a little before picking her corpse up. (It's surprisingly lighter than I had imagined it to be.) I carry her to our overgrown back garden, happy only that it's late and our only neighbour is an elderly woman who is never awake after six in the evening. I use my foot to open the lid of the green compost bin and grimace at the sight of rotten garbage in front of me, darkened into a shapeless pile of worms, rotten produce, and uncompostable items like beer cans; I place her body atop the pile like a funeral pyre and let the lid fall shut.

Heading back into my own house, I start scrubbing at the blood on my hand with my thumb, trying to rid myself of the stains before it has the chance to dry. I close and lock the backdoor before stepping back into the kitchen, around the bloodstains on the floor and over to the sink, where the knife lays. I run some water, holding the knife underneath it; thankfully, the blood hasn't dried and slips off with ease. The basin fills with cold water and I add some liquid dish-washing detergent, letting the knife soak for a while as I dip a dishrag in the water and start to wipe the floor with it. Again, the floor cleans easily and I take a clean towel and dry the wooden floor. The knife should be clean by now, as I throw the dishrag into the water and begin to wipe the knife with it before placing it onto the drying board. I empty the water from the sink and return to the sandwich.

I finish preparing it, placing the end product onto a small plate, then throwing the chopping board into the sink to be washed later. I then put the sandwich in the fridge, for something for my mother to eat whenever she returns home.

Hina's death is the one that has scared me the most. It's the most selfish of everything I have done. I didn't do it for Mondo; I did it to protect myself. And now I don't know what he'll think of me if I ever tell him of everything I've done. Chihiro? He'd be glad that I got that manipulator away from him. Daiya? He'll be proud of me for taking matters into my own hands. But Hina? That's where the lines begin to blur.

On the topic of Mondo, I feel as though I haven't seen him as he is in a while. I know I'm going to venture into his house tomorrow after school, but seeing him touching himself in his room that one time was a strangely euphoric experience, seeing him so vulnerable. And yet I haven't seen it in so long. I take off my shirt as I step into the shower room, throwing it outside of the door, along with my pants and underwear.

"Mondo Owada," I say to myself. What a perfect being. I turn the shower on, letting the hot water streak down my back like a thousand papercuts. "Mondo Owada." His name alone brings a grin to my face. I haven't looked at my photos of him in a while either. I returned Mahiru's camera yesterday and she seemed grateful, albeit annoyed that I took my time in giving it back.

Before he died, my grandfather would always make comments about my body: that I was too fat and needed to lose weight if I wanted to lead the country, or that I was too skinny and needed to build muscle if I wanted a wife (and, to quote him, "no great man can be a great man if he doesn't have a great wife.") After his disgrace unto our family name, he always tried to make me 'the next him' as he so dearly proclaimed; I wanted nothing to do with him, but my father insisted that I see and talk to him at least once every week. He wasobsessed with the idea that I should marry young, have a family, go onto lead our country, so on and so forth; whenever I tried to argue, tried to state that my goal was not to marry or find a family but rather to restore our family name, he'd get angry. He'd getangry.

But I think he'd be angrier at the notion that if I ever were to marry, the only person I can ever see myself marrying is Mondo. He'd be the perfect husband; yes, he needs a little refining around the edges, but he is...ideal to say the least.

I hear the door open and then shut. I sigh, grateful that it's only my mother until I hear an angry voice shout.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru, get your ass out here right now!"

And the knowledge that it's just my father and me in the house makes me panic.

"I'm in the shower," I call back, my voice cracking.

"I don't give a shit! Get your ass out here right now!"

His words are slurred and almost stalled; I hadn't had to confront him since he started drinking again but now...here we are. I quickly wash my hair with the nearest shampoo, turning the shower off and drying myself, before returning to my clothes from today. I get dressed as fast as I can, afraid to make my father wait. "Kiyotaka Ishimaru!" he yells and I rush down the hallway to confront him, staring at me from the kitchen doorway.

"Yes, sir?" I ask. The 'sir' wasn't intentional, rather it just slipped out, but he seemed to be contented with being addressed as an authority figure.

"The fuck is that smell?" He grabs the side of my head and shakes me forwards and backwards. "That your fucking hair, Kiyotaka? You a fucking faggot now is that what this is? Using flowery women's shampoo?"

"No-"

"Don't answer back to me." I nod, withdrawing a step. "Why have you not washed your dishes?" I hesitate to open my mouth to reply, but he interjects. "Fucking lazy. You're fucking lazy, you know that?"

I can feel tears in my eyes as I nod. "Don't fucking cry," my father says. "You wanna fucking lead the country? Then don't cry; boys don't cry, you pathetic piece of shit." My eyes are fixed on the ground, the wooden floor between his feet. He begins to leave the room, circling me like a shark, before he gives me a rough shove forward toward the sink and finally exits.

"Wash your fucking dishes, you queer."

I begin to pour water into the basin as I cry, hanging my head in shame, trying to stop the tears from flowing. I hear him throw himself onto the sofa in the next room as I begin to scrub the cutting board. I see the knife out of the corner of my eye.

I could shut him up one last time. I could do it right now.

No. I can't.

And so I keep scrubbing the cutting board, until it slips out of my hand. And then I'm just scrubbing the skin of my hand until it's red raw.

Chapter 11: Saccharine

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

At school, all I could think about was Mondo's house. Going into Mondo's house, more specifically. I wonder what secrets he's hiding, even from me.

I watch him as he gets on his motorbike and rides away with five of the members of his gang, yelling at one another to be heard over the revving of engines, laughing and smiling. He looks peaceful among the rest of them, his smile merely half of theirs, but I know he's dealing with more than he wants them to know. I remember seeing him crying late one night, on the phone to some hotline or other, complaining about how he'd never be able to let anybody see his real feelings without the fear of being seen as weak. And it's for that reason that he only ever-presents himself as the angry, delinquent type.

I sigh, beginning to walk to Mondo's house. Thankfully, Sakura didn't mention Hina once, nor did she mention Chihiro, though I'm sure it's starting to become suspicious to her that the numbers in our friendship group are rapidly declining. For now, however, until she brings it up, I can just assume she doesn't think anything more of it.

The walk to Mondo's house is a little further than mine, an extra ten minutes or so onto what would usually be a fifteen-minute walk, but I don't mind. It gives me time to collect my thoughts. In fact, it's almost therapeutic: knowing that this walk is serene and quiet, and is ultimately going to lead to a destination far better than usual.

Mondo's side of the town is quiet, peaceful, so I know that nobody will catch me slipping in, even if I can play it off as Mondo having invited me over. The reason I keep my love for Mondo so hidden is a product of both my father and Mondo's wishes: my father is intolerant and would probably kill me if I were exposed for so feverishly loving another man, whilst Mondo is closed off about his homosexual feelings, as evidenced by his not telling me he loves me and the way he reacted when Chihiro kissed him (but who could blame him for that? If Chihiro had kissed me, I'd probably have thrown up afterwards too).

If I round the corner right now, I should see it. And there it is. Mondo's house. Beautiful, and pristine, and perfect. Fit for a perfect man like Mondo to live. I take a few wary steps forward, making sure there are no civilians or cars or anybody nearby to see me. Am I being overly cautious? Yes. Will it pay off? I hope so. I do. There is nobody near, not a single car that isn't parked, not a single person, so I march forwards, towards Mondo's house.

Mondo has a habit of leaving his door unlocked, forgetting that his key is on the other side of the door and simply shutting it. I try the door but it won't open. Hm. Well, I suppose it's a good thing that Mondo remembered to lock it, but why today of all days? Maybe because he knew he'd be out after school. Yes, I'm sure that's it. If I were anybody else, I'd feel disheartened that Mondo has locked the door, but I know that he keeps a spare key hidden under the out-of-place garden gnome to my right.

I slowly insert it into the door, why my hand is so shaky is a mystery to me.CLICK. And the door opens. I sigh with relief, opening the door and entering, locking it behind me.

I go to the kitchen first. The kitchen, where I've seen him cook so many fantastic meals for himself whilst his brother was away. The fridge is fully stocked, with a wide array of vegetables, meat, anything and everything. For such a bold and brash-looking young man, Mondo certainly is a good cook. I've never tasted anything he's eaten - though I would love to - I'm sure that it tastes as fantastic as it always looks. All of his dishes are washed and are sat on the drying rack. His cutlery is put away in neat rows in the drawers. His towels are folded and put away in a cupboard, stacked neatly. The wooden floor gently creaks beneath my boots and I worry that somebody might hear, but there is nobody aroundto hear and that itself brings me a sense of relief.

But I'm not here to make sure that Mondo keeps his house tidy or to hear how the floor creaks. I'm here because I'm in love with him. After all, I want to learn more about him. After all, this is Mondo's house and Mondo is mine so I should get to have a look around his house. I think about how Chihiro has been here before me, and a sense of overwhelming anger engulfs me. Yes, Chihiro has been here before me. But! I killed Chihiro. Chihiro is out of the picture. Chihiro can't eventhink about taking Mondo away from me anymore. That thought alone brings a smile to my face.

I trace the outline of the kitchen island with the fingertip of my index finger, slowly walking around it. I think about how it would feel to sit atop the island, watching Mondo cook for me. I think about being able to call this place my...no,ourhome; Mondo's and my home. I think about Mondo reverently undressing me on this kitchen island, the food beginning to burn, but neither of us caring much. I think about his lips planting kisses on my skin. I think about him fucking me on this kitchen island-

"There are better places for that, Taka," I say to myself. "Things like that are private, for private quarters, not for the middle of a kitchen."

But still, the thought of it draws up several more, similar thoughts. I try my hardest to ignore them as I walk up to Mondo's bedroom, ignoring all other rooms. Truth be told, I came here almostsolely for Mondo's bedroom, everywhere else is just collateral.

I open the door hesitantly. The room smells of him, mixed with sweat and the teary-eyed pungency of body spray; I can't help but cough a little as I walk in. Despite this, the knowledge that I'm in Mondo's room, that I, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, am in the Mondo Oowada's bedroom, is overwhelmingly pleasant. His blinds are shut for once, which is reassuring, that he's taking those extra privacy steps. His bed is unmade but I don't particularly mind; he was in a rush this morning so it's understandable that he didn't have time.

I throw myself down onto his bed, lying in the same sheets that he lies in, lying in the same sheets that he's touched himself in. I roll over onto my stomach, my face firmly planted into one of the soft pillows; I inhale - they still smell like him. I grab onto one harshly, hugging it before turning over onto my back, face still in the pillow. They smell like him and they feel soft like him and just knowing that I'm lying in the same bed as Mondo makes my pants tighten.

If I remember correctly, Mondo never takes his phone to school with him if he knows he's going to be with his gang afterwards and, if Iam remembering correctly, his phone should be in the top drawer of his bedside table. I slowly roll onto my side, holding the pillow to my side with one arm and open the top drawer; I sit up to get a good look inside and my face immediately heats up. There's a box of tissues beside a box of C-O-N-D-O-M-S, a plastic tube of lube, a long-looking piece of tied-up rope and some scarves (for what reason, I'm not sure), and...there. His phone.

I take it out, shut the drawer and lie back down. His phone is password protected (thank God, who knows what kind of people there are, willing to just break into your phone), but I know Mondo well enough by now that it won't be hard to guess. Still, if I tilt the phone up slightly, the light illuminates finger smudges, some more predominant than others, over the numbers 1, 3, 7, and 0. The password is five numbers long and, after a few attempts, I finally guess it: 11037, though I'm not sure what significant the numbers have if any at all. A childlike sense of giddiness rises in me as the phone unlocks.

Where to look first? Text messages, I suppose. Let's see...he had a conversation with Leon (dubbed 'lil baseball bitch boy' on his contact's list) this morning.

Mondo: what do u do when u have a crush on sumbody but ur dating sum1 else

Leon: die ig lol

Mondo: fuck u i need help

Leon: figure out who'd make u happier and then go from there or sumn idfk dude

So, Mondo has a crush? That's fine. Not an immediate threat, so I can postpone any harm unto them for now, but Mondo'sdating somebody? This is news to me, and I've been watching him for...for God knows how long now. Why was he hiding this? Why was he hiding this fromme?! The moment I find out who this bitch is, I'm going to murder them for daring to try to take Mondo away from me. It's unfortunate, really, how many people manipulate Mondo into thinking he's in love with them. First Chihiro, and now whoever this is. But it's fine: I'll sort it out for him soon enough.

In the meantime, other text conversations he's had...Ah, one with Chihiro.

Mondo: nah i wouldn't say i REALLYY like him but he's cute yknow

Mondo: i mean like i daydream abt him all the time n rlly wanna kiss him but it's not anythin major

Chihiro: Who is this mystery man? You sound really in love with him! Will I get 2 meet him??

Mondo: u already know him ;)

Chihiro: If I didn't know any better, I'd say u were flirting haha

Mondo: nah never dude not me no way

I sigh. This 'crush' of his really seems like he'll prove a nuisance, but, again, I can always take matters into my own hands. There's a conversation with Hifumi; that's odd...I don't recall them ever being friends.

Mondo: can u pls leave me the fuck alone

Hifumi: Your the one calling him 'bro' all the time!!

Mondo: and??

Hifumi: Keep it up and Ill have to draw yaoi porn of you both xD

Mondo: I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD HIFUMI I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

Hifumi: Chillax bro!!!! I'm pretty sure he's the only 1 who doesn't know that u have a crush on him anyway

Mondo: that's literally not the point?!?!?! what

Hifumi: Well IM not gonna tell him that you like him, am I? I wanna see this rom-com play itself out!!

Mondo: if he ever finds out i'm gonna go str8 to blaming u n kill u for it

Seeing Mondo so protective makes my stomach fill with butterflies, my heart a bird beating itself to death in my ribcage. Oh, what I'd give to see Mondo defend me so aggressively. Even just the idea makes my knees buckle a little; I squeeze the pillow closer to myself. That's enough of his text messages, I think; sure, I have a few unanswered questions, but I can work out the answers for myself later on. Besides, doesn't his search history sound much more intriguing?

I click on the 'Google' icon and then the 'Open Tabs' option. His open tab is 'how to break up with somebody', which is nice; it's reassuring. Maybe he's finally realised that everybody who claims to like him is really just trying to manipulate him...except me. That's one of the many reasons he and I are meant to be together. More of his searches include: "how 2 tell a guy u like him step by step"; "motorbike not starting help"; "how 2 know if ur gay or bi"; "do i have a crush on him quiz"; "do i have a crush on him quiz gay edition"; "male models shirtless"; "best movie pirating websites"; "rebel without a cause full movie free online"; and "what 2 do when ur in love with somebody but ur pretty sure they hate u". There's certainly a lot to unpack there.

I'll ignore the illegality of movie piracy for now, but he really does seem hellbent on having this crush of his. And he's 'pretty sure they hate him'. I'll rule Leon, Chihiro and Hifumi out since he's spoken to them about his crush. That leaves Makoto, Byakuya and Hiro left from our class. Makoto? I don't think so: he doesn't seem like the type that Mondo would go for. Byakuya? Definitely not: everybody knows about how much Mondo loathes him, threatening him on the daily and whatnot. Hiro? No, I'd say that Hiro and he have a pretty good friendship, not at all on the terms of Mondo fearing Hiro might hate him. And this is all disregarding the countless other male students in other classes. I sigh. It seems hopeless.

On a whim, I close the Google application, moving onto his camera roll. His most recent photo is a blurry, distorted, low-quality image of Leon with what seems like a tomato stuck to his forehead, a hysterical grin spread across his face. Scrolling through, there are a lot of odd, out of context screenshots. A photo of himself sitting on his motorcycle. An old photo of his now-deceased dog, Chuck. A photo of...Is that me? It certainly looks like me. Yes, that definitelyis me. I remember that day well: we had to run a good few laps of the field and I was sweating pretty heavily by the end of it and that...seems like a photo of me after running, still in my gym uniform as well. I remember watching Mondo run those laps with ease. But why does he have a photo of me?

I check the date of the photo and scroll through Mondo's texts with Leon, going back through until I reach the same date, hoping they talked about it. And, thankfully, they did.

Leon: i CANT believe u actually took that photo bro

Mondo: NEITHER CAN I DJFSFSDHJS

Mondo: its just 1 photo tho

Mondo: n he wont know

Leon: BRO P L E A S E U HAVE TO DELETE IT SJFHHS

Mondo: I DONT WANT TO SFJHJG I WAS GOING TO BUT-

Leon: BUT????

Mondo: IDFK HE LOOKS KINDA HOT

Leon: OHMYGOD

Mondo: DONT TELL ANYBODY PLS BROSSHJJSGHSJ ILL LITERALLY PAY U FOR UR SILENCE

Leon: bet B)

Mondo thinks I...look hot? I feel my cheeks heat up. No, this can't be real; it must be a dream. Imust be dreaming. I pinch myself on my arm, just like they do in all those cliche movies, but I don't wake up. I look down at his phone and feel a small smile raise at the sides of my mouth. I lie down, turning his phone off. I hug the pillow tightly with both hands.

I pick his phone back up, turning it back on, inputting '11037' before proceeding to scroll through his camera roll. There are more photos of Leon, more strange screenshots that make no sense, no more photos of me (unfortunately) and a certain photo of Mondo that makes my breath quicken. He's standing in the bathroom mirror, sweaty from a workout I assume, in his sleeveless shirt and a pair of boxers, his hair down, posing with his tongue sticking out, muscles on show. His body looks so good. My hand, subconsciously and intuitively, trails down to my pants. I begin to unbuckle my belt, eyes fixed on the photo of him, the smell of him all around. I tug my pants and underwear down below my knees and start touching myself, letting out a surprised, pleasured whine at the sensation. I focus on the photo as my hand begins to speed up, moaning at both the feeling and at the realisation that I'm doing all of this in Mondo's bedroom, where he would lie and do this same thing.

I bury my head in the pillow, inhaling Mondo's scent deeply, working quicker and quicker with every muffled whine and groan I let out. Despite having only been touching myself for a minute (at least), I can already feel that sensation of being close to finishing rising up within me. "M...Mondo," I moan into the pillow, my eyes shut, pretending that I'm there with him, that he's the one touching me. "Yes," I whine, "please, there, right there."

"How precious," he would say. "You're whining for me already."

I nod into the pillow, moaning what would have been lustily if not for the softness of the pillow generously absorbing all of my sounds. "Faster, please," I moan to the idea of him and my hand picks up speed. I let out a long, feminine whine, followed by several breathy gasps, my heart beating loudly in my chest.

"Are you close?" the image of him whispers both aggressively and compassionately into my ear. I nod weakly, trying to hold onto the feeling a little while longer, trying to bottle it up to let myself imagine Mondo touching me a little while longer, but I can't and soon, I feel my body tightening as I bite the pillow, letting out a suppressed moan. I pant as I manage to pull myself away from the pillow, away from the daydream of Mondo fucking me with his hand. I open the drawer again, with the hand that's still holding the phone in a somewhat sweaty grasp and pull out a handful of tissues. I wipe myself clean and throw the tissues into the trashcan beside his bed (hopefully he won't notice). I pull my pants and underwear back up, trying to catch my breath, as I tuck the pillow behind my head, making sure first to flip it over so that the side with a rather obvious bite mark isn't visible.

I pick up his phone, sitting up now, and type the passcode back in. I start scrolling through the images again when- Shit.

I hear the door downstairs open. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I'm not one to use obscenities, but FUCK. I shut the drawer of the bedside table almost alarmingly fast, standing up and making sure I've not left anything on the bed before hearing footsteps and two voices ascending up the staircase. I dart to the closet, forgetting that I'm still holding his phone, sliding in and, shutting the door just in time for the bedroom door to open.

Chapter 12: Nurse's Office

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I can just about see Mondo between the thin gaps in the closet door as he enters the room, pursued by a tall, thin, nervous-looking girl...I think I've seen her face before. Yes! I have. Her name is Mikan Tsumiki and she too attends Hope's Peak, as the Ultimate Nurse. What she's doing with Mondo and in his bedroom seems beyond my comprehension for now; a boy and a girl staying in the same room together? It's unwholesome!

I hold my breath, hoping they can't hear me as I try to listen in on their conversation.

"We just need to talk, Mikan," Mondo says patiently, as he sits down on his bed.

"Y-You're going t-to break up with me, are-aren't you?" Mikan says, clutching her skirt in her hands, tears almost pouring down her cheeks.

"I-" Mondo sighs. "...I think I left the front door open." (He didn't; I heard the door shut and heard the sharp click of the lock, even from all the way upstairs.)

Nevertheless, he stands and leaves, brushing past Mikan on his way out, mumbling something indiscernible under his breath as he makes his exit. The bedroom door shuts softly and Mikan tentatively sits down at the foot of the bed, twirling her thumbs around one another, both legs bouncing in unison.

I turn Mondo's phone on, subconsciously chewing at my lip, the copper taste flooding my mouth. 11037. I press the text messages icon with a shaky index finger, praying to dear God that Mikan can't see the dim illumination of the screen through the gaps in the closet door. Mondois taking a long time for supposedly shutting the door. I scroll through until I see her name in his phone, or rather until I see her contact picture: her name has been replaced with 'not as good as u know who' with heart emoticons beside it. So...Mikan is who Mondo has been dating.

That's fine.

I can end this now.

I hesitantly type "hi leon sry i cant talk im with mikan rn" and send it to her, hoping she'll receive it and assume it's a wrong number. I hear her phone make a chiming noise with the notification as I write a follow-up, saying, "shes being super awkward n she looks Ugly as heck as usual but oh well lol". I press send and look up at her. Not before long, she's crying, no, pathetically sobbing. I put the phone in my pants pocket and watch her a little while longer.

After a few moments, she begins to bore me, just sitting there, sobbing like some pathetic bitch. I almost need to tell myself to calm down. I sit down, my previous squatting position now excruciatingly uncomfortable. Beside me, there's a large, cardboard box filled with miscellaneous memorabilia and behind me, a large array of clothes are strung up on hangers. I open the cardboard box, trying my hardest to stay silent, only letting my breath out in slow, short bursts and inhaling in even shorter and slower drags.

Inside, there are plastic trophies, painted golden, the type you'd get at kid's sports races or spelling bees: there's one for a 500m race, a writing competition, a wrestling match and a few more I can't quite tell the subject of. All of them have Mondo's name inscribed on the plaques. Further down, I can see vibrant ribbons and assorted other keepsakes. Based on the contents of this box, you might be able to describe Mondo as a good student, but it's easy to tell that these are all old. That he's no longer this student. I almost feel bad, until I hear the bedroom door open and Mikan burst into a wail.

"Y-You d-don't have to break up w-with me anymore!" she screeches. Mondo has a dazed expression on his face as if he's just been caught in an elaborate lie that he can't escape. "I-I'm breaking up with you! I HATE YOU, MONDO OWADA!"

She pushes past him and runs out of the house, sobbing and weeping and wailing on her way out. "The fuck was that about?" he mutters, sitting down on his bed. Then he smiles and chuckles to himself a little. "One less job for me, I suppose." He sighs, lying down. At this point, I'm practically begging him to leave so thatI can leave. "Still," he whispers, sighing and leaving the room.

I can hear him calling out Mikan's name as he runs down the stairs. The door opens, shuts, and I can hear him yelling Mikan's name from outside, his voice gradually dimming with distance. I smile with relief. I open the closet doors and step out, a moment of hesitation boiling over into a loud creak of the floorboard beneath my shifting weight. I do not need to be as nervous as I am: Daiya is out of the way, Mondo just left, and the house is mine alone right now. Nevertheless, a sense of worry eats at my stomach.

Making no observations of the house besides potential hiding points if Mondo were to come home suddenly, I rush out, keeping my arms by my sides, swinging only ever so slightly, careful not to knock or shift anything too noticeable. I open the door, shut it (not locking it, for Mondo didn't) and placing the spare key under that ominously placed gnome. I whistle awkwardly as I step off the property into the empty street.

"Mission accomplished, Taka."

I begin my walk home, careful to remain as unsuspicious as always; the stiffness of my posture, of my clothes adhering to my body, accompanied by the awkwardness of my gait, are all just normal when it comes to me. This is a factor that proves most useful when you have an underlying sense of guilt that you're trying to mask. (The first time I had realised this, I had had a particularly sinful thought about a fellow male when I was fourteen and was afraid my father might find out).

When I get home, I'm greeted by silence: my father is out doing whatever it is he does (drinking) whilst my mother shops for groceries, as she made clear she would be this morning. I feel a sense of relief in the lonesomeness of our home. After spending that time at Mondo's house, however, this home seems...out of place for me. With neither of my parents home, I dare to untuck my shirt. It must sound foolish to have only ever 'dared' to do such a thing three times before, but my father always scolds me whenever he sees me with my shirt untucked: he never fails to claim that I have no pride in myself and it's even worse that he's right.

I look down and...Ah, there's blood on my shirt. This is the shirt I wore when I murdered Hina and I suppose some blood had gotten onto it; still, it's imperceptible when tucked into my pants so I suppose it isn't much of a worry. I stumble into the kitchen, my legs feeling slightly shaky - both from the nervousness of being in Mondo's house and the aftermath of me having touched myself in Mondo's bed. I smile at the thought. I, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, lay in Mondo's bed.

I open the fridge, giggling to myself like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl, humming a tune I had heard somebody singing in school today. "Kiyotaka Oowada," I mutter to myself. "Kiyotaka Oowada." Yes, I like the sound of that, of Mondo and I sharing a last name. But there aretwo factors stopping me from achieving that: Mikan Tsumiki and this supposed 'crush' of his. Until I learn the identity of his crush, I can only deal with the Mikan problem. And the way to deal with romantic issues is...simply removing the opponent from the beloved's life.

Her being the Ultimate Nurse, I will have to make sure there's a 0% chance of survival; I don't want her having the chance of saving herself, of patching herself up, of even reducing the amount of pain I put her through. So, how should she die?I think to myself, pouring a tall glass of orange juice.Stabbing? Drowning? Strangulation? Slit her throat? Set her on fire?

I just want her toknow that she's going to die. Is that so bad?

I finish my glass of orange juice, washing the glass, drying it, putting it away, before taking a small knife from the knife rack, wrapping the blade in some paper towel, before tucking it into my pocket. There's a weight in my other pocket, though, and- Crap! It's Mondo's phone. I forgot to give it back. Well, it doeshave that photo of him on it, the one that made all of my insides twist at once to the point where I felt I might shatter like glass if I didn't relieve the tension it caused. But still...he'll notice it's missing. No, no, it's fine: people rarely expect me to lie so they take almost, if not everything, I say as truth. And that will be my aid here. I'll tell him I just found it.

I change my shirt, swapping it for an old, dark red, long-sleeved t-shirt that is still too big for me. My white shirt is unstained beyond that small blood splatter so there's no need to further taint it. I put my boots back on, stepping out into the darkness of the town. I think it's perfectly nice how dark the later months get so early on in the day. I don't even think the time has surpassed five o'clock yet and the sun has disappeared from the sky.

So, where would Mikan be? If I remember correctly, I think she helps out at the hospital around this time. So that's where I'm headed then. The hospital. Hopefully, Mondo will have given up his search for the wretch and will be back home, thinking of his favourite things.

The hospital is a thirty-minute walk from my house, but I don't mind; it's dark, yes, but it's not yet too cold.

Killing her at the hospital will most likely prove tricky: I'll have to wait until she's alone, either outside or in the hospital itself. I think of Mondo, of the stress he must be under, trying to figure out why Mikan broke up with him, but it's for the best; one day, when we're together and happy and I'm lying in his arms, I'll tell him. I'll tell him everything. I'm sure his surprise will come from the realisation that I truly am the most dedicated boyfriend out there. It would be nice to have Mondo call me his boyfriend, I think, or to be able to call Mondomy boyfriend. "Kiyotaka Oowada, husband of Mondo Oowada," I whisper to myself in the darkness of the empty street. I smile at the notion, feeling my self begin to shake with the cold. I shove my hands into my pockets promptly and quicken my pace to the hospital.

When I get there, the receptionist is busied by talking to a queue of people and so I slip past her, unnoticed, into a blindingly white hallway. I ask one of the nurse's if she knows where Mikan is, telling her that I'm a friend from school, and she tells me (upstairs, on the third floor, helping out in Ward B). I smile, thank her, and head up the stairs to Ward B, my left hand still in my pocket, securing the small knife against my thigh, not even giving it the chance to slip out.

As I begin to round a corner, I see her step out of a room, wedding a smile before shuffling down a hallway. I warily follow her, still doing my best not to appear suspicious. My grip on the knife tightens as I watch her slip into a small room. I sidle in after her, hoping that nobody saw me doing so.

"K-Kiyotaka!" she says, jumping, surprised to see me. We're surrounded by needles and syringes and various small bottles of different liquids.

I take the knife out of my pocket, slowly unravelling the paper towel. "K-Kiyotaka?"

"Which one of these bottles is the most harmful?" I say, paying her hardly any mind.

"Why do you need to know that?"

I look at her, dead in the eyes. "W-Well it's not a bottle, but..." she says, already on the brink of tears, taking a pillbox down from one of the shelves, "th-this morphine would kill you if you took too much."

"How much is too much?"

"Anything more than six hundred milligrams can be fatal-"

"Give me the box." She nods submissively and hands it over.

I open it, taking a handful of six or seven oblong, teal-coloured pills. "Take these."

"Wh-Why?" I stay silent, looking at her, thrusting my hand forward to prompt her to take them. I hear the pills rattle. "K-Kiyotaka?"

"Fucking take them." She takes them from my hand hesitantly. "Do you need water?"

She shakes her head, not looking up at me.

"Take them five minutes after I leave. If I find out you haven't..." She looks up at me and I raise the knife, the tip gently pressing against her throat. "I'll slit your pretty fucking throat, okay?"

She nods and I retract the knife.

"C-Can I ask why you're doing this?" She has tears spilling out from her eyes, smothering her cheeks with salt and brine.

I sigh, annoyed at why theyalways have to ask this. "Well, you're about to kill yourself so...I suppose." I keep the knife out, just so she knows I'm in control here. "Mondo Oowada." Something in her eyes lights up as I say his name. "Don't get so fucking happy about it. He's not going to save you. He doesn't even give a shit about you."

"I- I know...he texted me something r-really hurtful-"

"Did I fucking ask?" I raise my voice and mock her, saying, "oh no, Mondo insulted me; Mondo called me ugly!" My voice drops. "I think he'd prefer it if you were fucking dead."

She nods, looking back down to the pills in her hand.

"And so would Junko." (It's a well-known fact that Mikan is in love with Junko, but she doesn't reciprocate her love in any way. This fact makes her easy to toy with.)

"Y-You think so?"

I nod. "You'd make 'em really happy."

Something that looks like a smile rises to her face. "Okay. I'll take these five minutes after you leave."

"And if you don't-"

"I promise I will." She looks almost hopeful.

How pathetic.

Chapter 13: The Whole World and You

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

I can see Mondo, riding his motorcycle to school from my bedroom window. He doesn't usually take this route, only ever does when he wants to waste time, but he looks as casual as ever. As I see him pass, turning a corner, I decide to take my leave, which is five minutes later than usual, but my father didn't come home last night so I don't have anybody yelling at me for leaving too late.

My walk to school is peaceful. Solitary, but peaceful. I'm greeted by Junko Enoshima at the gate, who flashes me a grin (unusually so might I add; she rarely pays me any notice) and then turns back to her conversation with her sister, Mukuro.

I take my seat in the class, Mondo entering a few moments after I. Sakura isn't at school yet, which isn't that out of the ordinary, but it means I'm left to sit in silence on my own until somebody decides to talk to me first. From around me, I hear hushed whispers kept under breaths, but sharp enough that I can make the words out almost perfectly.

"Did you hear that Mikan overdosed?" Leon whispers to Hiro.

"You sure it was a suicide and not somethin' to do with the occult?" Hiro whispers back. The two of them radiate idiocy that it practically glows from their skin.

I sigh, adjusting my posture in my seat until Kyoko takes the seat from in front of me, turns it to face me and sits down. "Do you know anything about the disappearing students in this school?" she asks tonelessly as if this is a regular conversation starter.

I shake my head.

"Really? Chihiro and Hina's lack of presence isn't suspicious to you?" I pause to take a breath, though really I'm trying to devise a response.

"Well, it's odd, but I haven't thought into it that deeply. I don't want to upset myself."

She nods. "That's to be expected." She starts to move but pauses and turns to me. "I'll need to talk to you about them after school if you don't mind."

"That's fine." And she leaves.

CRAP.

I mean, I'm not surprised that Kyoko's detective brain has already picked up on the suspiciousness of three people disappearing, but I didn't expectme to be her prime suspect. The chair in front of me is still facing my direction and, though that fact may be annoying, I don't move it or turn it around. Luckily so as well. Because it's only a moment or so before Mondo sits in it.

"You must be pretty bummed out, huh?"

"Wh-why do you say that?"

His straight face flashes a grin as he answers, "ya didn't even turn the chair around! That's unlike you, Mr Moral Compass." He playfully punches my shoulder, but it hurts more than I think he expected it to and I'm left clutching it gently. "Shit, man, did that hurt? I'm sorry-"

"No, it's fine, honestly," I say, letting myself smile. Kyoko had distorted my mood to the point that I've only just registered that Mondo Oowada is talking to me. I feel my face heat up and I can only hope it hasn't additionally reddened.

"Good." He grins. "Y'know that ya don't have to talk to Kyoko about Chihiro an' shit, right? I mean, if it'd upset ya, then I don't mind being an excuse for why ya can't go an' chat with her after school."

My face heats up more and it's definitely red now, based on the small smile that's made its way to Mondo's face. I would love to agree, but the haunting fear that doing so might only raise more suspicion with Kyoko.

"I'm sorry, but I've already made the commitment." I try to make myself sound embarrassed, but truthfully I am so there's very little attempt to be made.

"Suit yerself." He sounds disappointed but...not angry. I half-expect him to leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there, staring at me, smiling. "Shit, man, yer face is red as hell!" He says, chuckling.

Subconsciously, I slap both of my hands over my face, with just enough space between my fingers to still see Mondo.

"Dammit, Mondo," I hear him hiss to himself. "I didn't mean to embarrass ya, bro." He looks apologetic.

"It's fine," I say, my hands still over my face, muffling my words.

"No- Hey-" And I feel his hands, callous and rough yet still tender and gentle, pushing mine away from my face softly. "There. I prefer seeing ya face whenever I talk to ya." My face is, once again, engulfed in a flash of heat.

"Thank- I- That's-"

Now I remember why I haven't had a full conversation that lasts longer than two minutes with him: I get flustered and start tripping over my words and my brain decides not to formulate full thoughts, instead setting off heart-shaped alarm bells that ring deafeningly loud inside of my skull.

"After ya talk to Kyoko, if ya need some moral support, ya can always stop by my house." I smile, accepting his offer wordlessly before he starts laughing. "Moral support!"

I can't help but laugh at his awful pun that I don't even think was intentional. "Aren't I the funniest asshole you've ever met?" he says as he stands and goes back to his seat, punching my shoulder once again, much softer than before. I let my eyes follow him as he goes to sit back down. The teacher enters the room, standing at the front of the classroom as per usual and the room falls silent of whispers and pointless conversations.

------

It's funny, isn't it? How sometimes we feel like we're being watched when we aren't? I've felt this feeling for a while now, not that long but a good, substantial three weeks. Maybe it's simply because I've started to watch Mondo more attentively and frequently.

On an unrelated note, I put my textbook back into my bag, slinging it over my shoulder after zipping it up. The classroom is mostly empty and I've been stalling for time because I'd really rather not speak with Kyoko. Junko leaves, followed by Leon and Hiro with their arms around one another like a married couple, leaving the room empty bar Makoto, Mondo, and I.

Mondo drifts in front of me, pausing to say, "remember, bro, ya can come 'round to talk if ya need to afterwards." He smiles and I can't help but smile back. "Not that I think you'll need to: yer one of the strongest in the class." He winks as he departs and leaves, I slipping out after him, the door only a few inches away from being shut.

Kyoko stands at the gate, a patient look on her dull, pale face which brightens into intuition upon her noticing me stepping out of the school. She walks over to me and I to her and we meet at an awkward middle. "Where would you like to go?" she asks me and I shrug.

"You invited me."

"Why don't we go somewhere private? So that the discussion will be kept between you and me?"

I nod in agreement and we begin to walk in silence. She makes no comments towards me and I don't even try to ignite the burning embers of small talk.

We walk for a while, into the darker and more lonely side of town (the side I live in). A panicky feeling swells in my stomach, eating at my insides; I tap rhythmically at my thighs, trying to calm myself down. I feel my breath quicken and then hitch as she abruptly stops. "How about we talk here?"

"In an alleyway?" My heart palpitates in my chest and I feel it begin to try to work its way out of my ribcage.

"It's private. Nobody can hear us. And I think you'd prefer it like that, wouldn't you?"

I fearfully nod, pausing for her to go first and I to follow, but she doesn't move. "After you, Kiyotaka."

I feel so powerless...My hands are shaking at my sides as I walk in first. I pause, standing still in the corner, turning to face her. She stares at me with a piercingly dead stare. I know she's much shorter than me, but I feel like a mouse about to be stepped on and eaten by a cat.

"Where should we start?" she asks, but I can tell she doesn't want an answer. "What do you know about the disappearances of Chihiro Fujisaki, Aoi Asahina, and Daiya Oowada?"

I shake my head. "Nothing." She has me cornered but I have to stick to that television-advised ritual ofdeny, deny, deny.

"You don't have to lie, Kiyotaka." She meddles with the gloves on her hands before adjusting her posture, and I suddenly feel even shorter. Not even a mouse anymore, just a beetle. "Let's start with Chihiro: he went missing several days ago and you were the last to have seen him, correct?"

I nod shakily.

"So, when you lured him away-"

"Lured him away?"

"You invited him out for coffee, didn't you?" I nod. "And then you lured him into an alley much like this one" - she gestures around - "and you killed him."

"I didn't kill him-"

"Or should we talk about Hina?"

"Please-"

"She found out you killed Chihiro, didn't she?"

"I didn't kill-"

"And you couldn't deal with her outsmarting you, could you?"

I'm crying. I'm crying. Why am I crying?

"Believe me, please-"

She's closing in, walking closer. And I'm crying.

"So you, what, took a knife?"

I'm crying and shrinking against the wall.

"And you killed her too."

"PLEASE STOP. LEAVE ME ALONE. STOP TALKING," I yell.

All of a sudden, as if I spoke it into reality, Kyoko's lying on the floor, her throat cut.

And Mondo's standing over her corpse.

Chapter 14: Because I Have Him

Chapter Text

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's POV

The knife falls to the floor with a clatter. Mondo's hands are covered in Kyoko's blood. My knees are to my chest. And I'm shaking.

He steps over Kyoko's body, making eye contact with me. He squats down in front of me. A wave of panic drowns me, but he sets his hands on my knees.

"It's going to be okay." He smiles.

I can't formulate the words to speak. I'm thankful but...who is this person? I feel a tear slip down my cheek and he wipes it away gently with his thumb.

"I tried to avoid this." He kneels down. "I tried to invite ya back to mine. So that none of this would happen."

"I'm sorry," I stammer.

"No, no, it's not your fault, dear." He takes one of my hands and gently places it against his face. "It's all her's. It's all her's."

He pauses. "Can I have my phone back?" I nod and obediently take it from my pocket, handing it to him, whispering soundless apologies. "You don't need to apologise, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

He takes his phone from my hand and puts it away in his coat pocket. "Everything will be okay."

I try to force a smile but I can't stop myself from crying. "Why are you acting so surprised, Taka? You killed Chihiro; you killed Hina; you drove my brother away; you forced Mikan to overdose." I'm asking myself the same thing.

"You're...Is this revenge?"

"No- No. Revenge?" He smiles at the sentiment. "For what?"

"For everything I did." My voice is broken as I speak.

"But everything ya did, ya did for me. Right?" I nod and he adjusts that gentle grip on my hand. "And everything I did, I did for you too."

"Everything you did?"

He kisses my hand softly, with hardly any pressure as if I'm fragile and made of glass and he's afraid I might shatter. "I was just more discreet about it. Until now." He looks back at Kyoko's body and sighs, turning to me again.

"Who?"

"Yer father, for one. That was last night."

"You...killed my father?" I feel my joints stiffen.

"He was treating you so badly, dear. Ya couldn't keep living with a man like that, who calls you all those horrible things and acts that way to you. You deserve to be cared for and loved and treated gently, and yer father just didn't realise that." He tilts his head to lean on my hand. "And your smile this morning when you realised he wasn't home? Knowing that I caused that was the best feeling in the world."

"So you watch me?"

He nods, his skin against my hand almost soothing. "You saw me drive past your house this morning, didn't you? I just wanted to see your reaction to realising your father wasn't home. And he isn't going to be home ever again, okay? Yer safe now." And oddly, though anybody else wouldn't, I do feel safe. "I'm going to keep you safe."

"I didn't do a very good job at hiding the evidence or anything, though. The police will-"

"Ya don't need to worry about that. We can leave this shithole town together. You and I."

"But your gang..."

"I can leave it in good hands while we're gone, dear. Don't you wanna leave this place behind?" I nod because I do and I don't feel like I need to lie about it anymore.

"I've never been happy here. We stayed because we had to, not because we wanted to. I feel out of place. And lonely. And I can only associate this town with everything I've been through. And it hurts being here." I start crying again.

"I know, dear, I know." And he holds me in his arms as I sob into his shoulder. "But I'm never going to hurt ya, okay? Wherever we go, it'll be a fresh start for both of us."

"Did you know that I was hiding in your closet when you were about to break up with Mikan?"

He chuckles. "Yeah. I knew somethin' was up when Mikan started screaming at me for no reason. Plus, ya ain't very stealthy; I watched ya walk outta my house like nothing even happened."

"And here I was thinking I was being clever about it." He kisses me atop my head but I can barely feel it; I can just sense it. "Why didn't you just tell me that you liked me? It would have stopped all of this."

"I only really realised how much I like ya when we spoke that day in the gym. When I got ya that dumbbell. The one ya used to kill Chihiro. That's when I started watching ya. When I started loving ya. When I wanted to do anything I could to make ya feel safe, happy, loved."

"Did you see me kill him?" I can sense him nodding.

"Part of me was scared that you'd do that, but the more I realised ya did it because ya wanted me to yerself, the more I realised how much ya must really fuckin' love me."

"So you didn't mind?"

"Not at all."

"But your brother-"

"Ya didn't hurt him." He holds me tighter. "Ya saw that he was causin' me pain so ya did what ya needed to. It's like me an' yer father."

"So you're not mad?"

"Mad?" He sounds like he thinks I was joking, but I was deadly serious. "I couldn't ever be mad at you, dear." I pull away from him at his urging, my face half an inch from his, our eyes locked. "I love you, Taka. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too."

I feel my heartbeat quicken as his hands travel up from around my waist to my face. Everything in my body floods with emotion as his face grows closer and I feel his lips pressing against mine. It's not clumsy; it's long and intentional and I feel wondrous. He smells of gasoline and sweat, and I'm sure he looks beautiful at this moment but my eyes are snapped shut. I want to live in these few seconds forever. So close to him.

So close to him and yet I pull away.

"Sorry, I've- I've never kissed anybody before." I wipe at my top lip with the base knuckle of my thumb.

"That's okay." For a second, you could tell me that my pupils are heart-shaped and I would believe you. "Yer a natural."

I feel tears pouring down my cheeks.

"Hey, bro, wait, don't cry-" He wipes at my eyes with his hands and I can't help but smile.

"I'm sorry. I've just wanted this for so long..."

"I know," he says with a smile. "I know."

He pulls me in and our lips lock again and everything is okay.

And everything is fine.

And I am safe.

Because I have him.