狂犬

He let Koko take them to the ground; he was smart enough to go low to unbalance him and would be easier to fall than try to fight to stand. They hit hard and Koko went straight for his throat while trying to insult him.

Because Koko didn't care about him. Maybe he cared about the concept; the quiet, malleable man - the leashed dog who did as he was told - the brother who at least kept her face. As an extension of his own wants, his own desires. But if Inui dared to have his own emotions, his own dreams...

The way Koko was pinning him left his arms free and though Koko had managed to get a clean hit in on his face, Inui was freely able to grab a handful of that stupidly neat styled hair and yank his head back. With his other hand he punched hard into Kokonoi's side. He doubted his friend could take much of a hit.

"I get beaten by a monster of a man so now you think you can fucking take me? Huh?! You think a runt like you has any change?! Do you, Koko?! Come on! You've been involved sooo much longer than I have! Prove it! Get your hands dirty!"

And that had only been from one punch.

The headbutt almost knocks him completely unconscious, massive bursts of vantablack bloom ugly beneath his tightly clenched eyelids, all edged with oily smears of flashing colors that instantly wither and fade back into that disphotic abyssal nothing. It all expands, bleeds huge and diffuses itself inside of the dark place his mind's been trapped in ever since the fire.

Its what all comes flooding back to him in that moment and he wants to cry so badly- Wants to just give up and sob his disgusting guts out, be swallowed into the depths of the earth and have his being pulverized into nothing, into dust, into non-existence. There should be nothing left, not even a soul to judge or be spared so he could rejoin the reincarnation pool.

He should never have existed in this world in the first place.

But he doesn't do that, the hands clutching his sweat drenched dress shirt and the rumpled blazer of his school uniform curl into fists and Hajime brings both heels of his hands to his face and presses them down into his eyes- Laughing hysterically, it's echoing off the walls- Nothing but pure undiluted mania and adrenaline at work. Its like he's crushing all the tears back inside of his skull, grinning like a corpse in rictus, feeling his chest jerk spasmodically as more pealing and almost crazed sounding howls erupt from the depths of his being.

"It's always you-" he gasps, not making sense between his fits of sniggering, but in this moment nothing has ever been so perfect and true and right- Just clearer than the glassy waters of Fiji, or some other far off locale yet unspoiled to the point of no return by human misery and greed.

"Always... It's only ever been YOU."

He is the very image of tranquility as one of his uncovered eyes slides back open to take in Seishu's expression above his prone form, his dominant hand closing around the length of a discarded bike maintenance tool of some kind- Hefty, weighty, felt like a wrench.

Good.

He paused by the door though when the blond tried to explain himself more and sighed softly. He shouldn't be surprised that it all came down to the things people said. How wonderful it was to be dogged by rumours in every aspect of his life... That it even followed his home, there was no escape of it.

He went back to Inui and grabbed his jaw, focusing his gaze into those blue green eyes.

"Do you really think I'm an idiot? Of course they're using me, Inupi. But they pay me for it. And Black Dragons is thriving because of that, just like you've always wanted. We have power and respect and a fearsome reputation." He spoke slowly, trying to drive the information into the other's thick skull.

"People can say what they want because all the ones saying that shit are nothing. I haven't fucked anyone for money, I haven't fucked anyone for connections but you know what? If it was the only way to help you with your damn dream maybe I would have considered it. But it isn't the only way, because I'm really fucking good at what I do."

He let go and sighed softly.

He's always the first to avoid eye contact, to lower his head (truly, like a wounded dog) in submission, the one to feel something inside of the hollow cage of his ribs twist and strain itself with a painful astriction.

Koko isn't letting him off the hook, he never does- Thin fingers raking his jawline, jerking the blonde's line of sight up and forward. It's the same kind of animal instinct, that sensation of entrapment- Being backed into a corner as the fine hairs at the nape of your neck begin to stand on end, you can only bare your fangs and raise your hackles... Or, you can drop to the floor to show your belly and pray that it'll be a quick disembowelment.

"No... I don't think you're an idiot, Koko-" he replies easily, he hadn't meant to give that impression at all. Hearing someone he cared about being disrespected like that made him angry- Though, most things honestly did these days.

Shinichiro-san's legacy had been entrusted to Seishu by Izana Kurokawa. He'd promised to back a man he honestly didn't respect, but it was unquestionable that his violence and mercurial whims managed to get the job done. Then he'd made a rookie mistake and been collared for aggravated assault, by the time Inui had been released from 'reform school', Madarame was nowhere to be found. The ninth generation had completely disbanded after one (albeit, crushing) loss to the Tokyo Manji gang.

The Boss had promised that being little more than hired enforcers would only be temporary. That Koko wouldn't have to keep staying up long nights coming up with even better schemes than the last, examining all the fine print, looking to squeeze the most profit out of each deal with the least amount of effort and time required on their part. Seishu wanted to believe him- Even if he had long suspected it was all just smoke and mirrors.

Even if it was the only way, I wouldn't let you-

Those words keep repeating in his mind like a recording on loop, each word beginning to lose meaning the longer it echoes. Objectively, he understood their definitions as described in dictionaries, thesauruses, encyclopedias- But his mind wouldn't acknowledge those basic facts like it normally should.

He'd bent the knee to Izana, after being told he was valued and that his influence mattered. Even after Kurokawa disappeared, Seishu honored his promise without a single word of complaint or derisive curl of the upper lip thrown in the Mad Dog's direction. Taiju had beaten him to the ground and put an abrupt halt to Inui's 'no losses' streak in combat, so Shiba was the Boss. That's just how it was.

Seishu wasn't even sure what he was capable of anymore.

Inui thumbs the ribbed hem of his jersey draped over his right thigh, smoothing the knitted fabric between his scarred and blistered fingers. His lips roll inward between his teeth, tightening for a moment before he pushes himself into a standing position.

"Yeah. Right behind you."

After re-checking to ensure the front of the shop is locked, Seishu buries his hands in his pockets and focuses on that little divot between Koko's shoulder blades as he skulks behind him.

troublehq is an independent multimuse multifandom blog. established on 1.20 and penned by summer.