ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇяʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ

He won't tell Laito that he was tempted, though it must have been clear in his eyes. He won't tell him that — he's glad Laito would have tried to kill him. For leaving. He's not sure he can live without him, anyway.

He could —... run away now, and it would make him happy.

But Laito would never be able to forgive that.

...

He hates himself. Because in the end, he feels that it's better to be here than to be without him. That's the stupid answer, isn't it? Shouldn't he take this opportunity? But if Laito's willing to throw it away, he... 

Ayato crawls out. It's humiliating to crawl. But, holding a hand above his head to protect his skull from knocking the bars, he slips out of the cage, slowly, onto the dungeon floor in front of Laito. His eyes flick up —... 

Straightening his spine out feels heavenly; he shudders and stretches right into Laito's arms, eyes closing, pressing his face against his neck and delving into his scent. Laito... His arms envelop him around his shoulders and back, pressing into his brother's body.

There's the disturbed puff of Ayato's breath against Laito's skin, and his heart hammers with disappointment. He should have shoved Laito aside and vanished. But maybe this was the right choice, after all.

It's actually a punishment, isn't it?

… for befriending Kou? For wanting to be around anyone else. He hates himself for it, right now. He should have never been so greedy.

But it doesn’t mean Laito’s right! It means Laito's being just as selfish...! Being unfair. The punishment doesn’t fit the crime. Forever is… so… 

Ayato's heart still thuds painfully for him, despite that. After everything… He’s come to deeply love this person that is his. He knows how it feels to not trust the person you love — to only trust yourself. He doesn’t want Laito to feel that way. It was hard... 

Honestly, he already fears his own feelings of anger and betrayal. It’s hard to decide how he feels… Already, he doesn’t feel in his right mind. It’s too easy for him to be bitter and unhappy. He’s worried that he'll say something wrong. So he crawls as close to Laito as he can and shrivels, not wanting to say anything.

He understands.

... but he realizes that what he's the most frightened of is being unable to control Laito. Beyond the bars, Laito’s free to do anything he wants. Despite what he claims… 'I’ll stay, I’ll protect you'…

He loves his brother… but it’s cruel, isn’t it? They’re really the same… he’d just prefer it was himself out there, and Laito in here. How can Ayato secure their future?

Laito’s always needed him to guide him, since the start of this… Laito will go astray if Ayato doesn’t control him... Ayato’s certain of it. Eventually, he will. He’s always been on guard against anyone at all. His brother is weak… he’ll be even weaker, if Ayato doesn’t show him that he still loves him. If Ayato doesn’t keep him here with him.

That's what he thinks.

If he’s going to be down here forever, then… Laito needs to be down here. Forever.

He squeezes the bar so tightly that his knuckles turn white –whiter— with strain. "— Laito..." Quiet, but he fiercely means it all. If Laito isn't going to stick to his word —... he'll... twist his arm off, he supposes. For now, he lightly clings, holding onto Laito with a characteristic neediness.

There’s little energy left for him to struggle, so he stops. Left for days in the cold, damp basement, without room to stretch or even lie down has left his body feeling brittle and sore.

Words don’t come to him quickly or easily. For a long time, there’s only silence. That chill is seeping into him, into his lungs, and he shudders unhappily. It’s not what he wanted. With Laito appearing to be but a sharp shadow across the room, unwilling to let him out to take a fucking piss or even allow Ayato to touch him, he feels isolated and hopeless. 

His head droops, skull resting against the bars, and his clinging wrist.

… but… to hear that Laito will stay with him… makes him feel such relief. The emotion jams itself painfully into his throat, and his breath wavers. He realizes it’s all he has to cling to. He realizes that he’s desperate. Something he hasn’t felt so ferociously since their mother watched him drown in the lake, so many years ago.

“— why would you…” His stomach twists, and his knuckles turn white around the bar. He worries he might be sick, to add to the piss on the ground. He doesn’t feel so well. “Stand so far away…”

So — is it a lie? Or is it actually a misunderstanding? He shouldn’t have worded it that way, but he’s not thinking as he should, the words don't come to him like they would anyone calmer. Desperately, he tries to recall what he and Kou were doing in the library, but all that comes is a flashing memory of concert tickets going into his back pocket.

He’s wrong. Laito’s wrong, he wouldn’t…!

How could Laito be so stupid?! After all he’s done for him, to keep him his own, after all the wounding things that Laito did to evade him? After how much he’s loved him, like he'll never love anyone else?! Blood roars in his ears, and he finds himself outraged once more. Ayato furiously rattles the bars of the cage, all but clinging to the upper wall. He’s lost his cool, and thrashes inside, deliriously thinking for a moment that he'll destroy the cage and break free. The enclosure bounces lightly on the stone floor as Ayato fights it from the inside.

He hates Laito for this. He hates his stupidity. Laito must know that he could never want anyone else more—!

Wistful. He lowers his ass onto the heels of his feet so that he can turn his face uncomfortably upwards, enough that he can look into Laito’s shadowed expression.

He foolishly reaches out to touch his brother's face, but Laito’s too high to be reached. Humiliation and surprise twist in his gut as his arm gets jammed in the opening between the bars. Suddenly realizing that this was probably Laito’s intention, he withdraws, winding his hand around the bar again.

A silent pause, letting his embarrassment simmer.

Laito's answer isn't the answer he was asking for — but it makes his chest tighten painfully. Me too. It distracts from the... more direct explanation he was trying to find. Where has his anger gone? It's vanished; whisked away beneath Laito's wrath, and his fatal, soft touch, and — Ayato knows what he craves and desires most. There he is, he's just out of reach...

What can he say? He could return the words if they stood on equal ground again, but as they are now, Ayato fears that Laito would only doubt him. The words are on the tip of his tongue, desperate to come out, but he withholds them. I love you… is just the simple way to express his feelings. Isn't it? They've said such passionate things to one another, things that are imprinted on his mind and that haunt him now. Ayato's heart burns to let him know.

This is still dangerous talk. Their love has the potential to be vicious and cruel, and... distrustful — exemplified splendidly now, and in the past. Ayato isn’t innocent of that, either.

Despite the danger, he's bold.

Though he’s sore from the extended captivity and now gently battered, it hurts the worst over his temple and cheek, where he’d fallen and hit the bars of the cage hardest. It's a mess of tangled limbs inside the cage, confused in the cramped quarters. Ignoring the ringing in his head, Ayato struggles to wring some dignity out of himself and get upright again. He twists onto his belly and lifts onto his hands and knees, back shoved up against the other side of the cage, and steadies himself. He's writhed upright so fast that vertigo and cold sweat runs up his spine, and Ayato clamps a palm over the painful spot on his skull. Already it’s fading and throbbing, dulling, but the shock remains.

… This is no time for pride… but it’s so hard. Laito’s testing him, and as stubborn and selfish and stupidly brave as he is, he’s beginning to feel frightened. Will he really be here, forever?

With Laito being cruel to him… like this.

“…”

— ah. There's the sensation of piss seeping into his socks. He took his shoes off and pushed them through the cage bars through day two, finding them uncomfortable and clunky and preferring cold feet over them entirely. His toes curl uncomfortably, and shift away from the pooling liquid.

He curls a hand around a bar over his head, near the top of the cage. Soon there will be a flushed and vertical bruise stamped over his cheekbone, intercepting his sharp eyebrow with a second darkening splotch.

“You wouldn’t do it for no reason… would you? I don’t think that’s like you—…” His voice is forced, uncomfortable. “… so I don’t understand it.” Then Ayato’s throat is constricting, angry and unhappy. It's pathetic, but he wants something gentle instead; anything, where even Laito stroking his face is something to obsess over and miss, and he regrets not holding his silence and leaning into that tiny comfort. But does he deserve it, in Laito's eyes? His desire grows as it becomes more and more apparent that he is in no position to reach for it.

He leans his head against his suspended arm, and sighs through his nose. What to say? There's plenty of silence as he thinks, trying to make sense of Laito's feelings. He glances through the bars at Laito's knees... 

— it's true. At least he's here. And as long as Laito's here, Ayato has no reason to panic. With that thought, the hammering of his heart dulls somewhat. They were happy before, weren't they?

The first thing to show in his expression is pure displeasure. He did make a mess —... it was hurting, and he couldn't hold it any longer... Ayato looks back at his brother, feeling flat contempt and desperation pit against one another in his stomach. Is a clean cage really that much better than a dirty one? He wants to be let out, but he doesn't trust Laito to trust him so easily.

Angry or not, all he has to do while down here — is wait for Laito to come back again, even if it means he's forced to sit in a puddle of his own piss.

The solitary relief in the situation is that he probably won't need to urinate again for a while.

"Who cares what you do about it..." Like it's a hassle to talk. He sounds lazy and irritated, and his eyes turn back to his knees, but it's only because there's a thick lump lodged in the width of his throat. It's hard to say whether it's humiliation, anger, or something else.