Outside the Dream (A Junjou Romantica Fanfiction)

Avenge

Outside the Dream (A Junjou Romantica Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Avenge
A/N: I am SO sorry for the long wait on this one. I've had some issues with my classes which should now be resolved. Thanks for your patience bros. But there may be mistakes, since I didn't have time to edit very much. I wanted to get this chap out asap.
There's also a gore warning; this chapter contains explicit and macabre imagery & content. Hence the title ^.^
Enjoy!
_________________________

Usagi's POV:

"I don't think you understand the significance of this situation, Usami," Loyd chided through the phone. His voice was different this time, it was faster, harder to understand through his thick accent. More urgent.

"Of course I understand," I spat back, being careful to keep my voice low. My eyes flickered to Misaki's sleeping figure. "But I can't just leave again, Loyd."

He paused, letting an exasperated sigh fall from his lips, "You won't get another chance like this, Usami."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth so hard I feared they would shatter.

"I'll be down there in five minutes," I said lowly.

Déjà vu.

I made my way outside noiselessly, closing the door with excruciating slowness. After I'd gotten outside, I sprinted to my car, which I was surprised was still waiting for me in the parking lot. Most definitely not the same way I had left it, partly on the curb grazing a handicapped spot and a fire escape exit. But the fact someone had moved it was shoved from my mind to make room for more important things.

Things like Takahiro.

It wasn't just someone who matched his description, it was him. The man that ruined both my life and that of the one I love. All Loyd knows is that I want to talk to him. That is what I had promised, after all. I promised I wouldn't hurt him, promised that I wouldn't lay a finger on him.

A smirk pulled one corner of lips.

I wouldn't "hurt" Takahiro. I would cripple him. I would humiliate him. I would torture him.

There was no way around the fact that if I did follow through with my plans, I would be arrested. I could be put to death myself, but that didn't matter to me. What mattered was Misaki. If it weren't for him, if I didn't love him so damn much, I would shoot Takahiro dead where he stood without a moments hesitation. But Misaki is here.

What stung the most wasn't that he would hate me, it was that I would be leaving him. I'd never get to see him again, and, knowing Misaki, he'd blame himself. I wouldn't just be leaving the love of my life, I would be leaving him feeling unfathomable sorrow and grief. He'd probably try to commit suicide again. But this time, no one would be there to pull him back up.

My Misaki would die.

I slammed a pair of tense fists against the leather of the steering wheel as I pulled into an old neighborhood that had been abandoned and sunk so low only gangs and homeless people resided there anymore.

My eyes shifted from building to building, searching for the one I needed. But as I came to find it, a sudden and unwanted reluctance was pulling me back into the safety of my car. I ignored it, shaking my head as if shaking off the jitters digging with tenacious claws into me, and entered the building who's old battered sign read, "Ryan's Used Books".

A dull bell sounded as I pushed the glass door open and made my way inside, eyes searching wildly for any trace of Takahiro.

A fierce banging, as if someone were pounding their fists onto a door, sounded from behind an Employees Only area. "Is someone there?" His unmistakable voice echoed from around the corner.