𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞,, Tokyo Revengers

Chapter IV. Home & Obsessions

𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟕

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇꜱᴄᴀᴘᴇ — ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟʟᴇ ꜱ. 

The flight took approximately thirteen hours and thirty minutes. By the time Hinata and Takemitchi landed at Haneda airport, it was already three in the morning.

Trust me when I say that the two of them shared the mutual desire to sleep their asses off.

"So exhausted.." Takemitchi muttered, making Hinata groan in agreement. When they made it out of the airport, the breeze slapped them roughly, making Hinata's lower lips quiver.

That time of morning was still dark, with twinkling stars still scattered above, while the moon dominated the horizon freely. It was a chilly morning, and cars passed by the highway, proving the idea that Japan never truly sleeps.

Anyway, they needed a cab.

Hinata started to casually hail an empty cab, their language beside them. A few minutes passed by, and as it was just getting colder, an available cab pulled over just by the side of the road, in front of them.

FUCKING FINALLY.

"Need a ride ?"

A middle-aged man asked with a grin settling on his lips. Hinata returned the gesture and smiled.

" Yes, we do need one. Thank you, mister," Hinata voiced, opening the door for Takemitchi, then eventually circling the car, opening the back trunk, and storing their suitcases.

Sitting down on the leather seat made Takemitchi's back relax. When Hinata got in, the couch shifted under his weight.

" Where to?" the elder Japanese asked.

" To the hotel creme de la creme, please. " Hinata answered politely despite the restrain of exhaustion in his voice.

"Got it, " The man replied as the car peeled off the side and entered the highway.

?????'s Point of View

There was screaming in his mind; then silence. Repeat.

The growing lump on his throat made his skin crawl, as darkness devoured him a little more. He didn't resist, he didn't try to. He just remained. A sculpture above piles of unsaid words and resentment.

He doesn't remember when it started; He wished not to.

It was when Shinichiro died. What did he look like again?

A long time has passed, and he can't recall anymore. However, it's not the sole reason why he doesn't commit Shinichiro's existence to memory; it's just that the more he reminisces, the more he feels hollow.

It didn't hurt; it stopped hurting a long time ago. It just felt empty. A nagging ache in his heart.

Persistent.

Inconvenient.

The white-haired man sat by the hotel's lobby, trapped in the cage of his mind. He was dazed, silent. A dark contrast to the people within the space; all chatty and laughing, even in the dead of dawn. There was no tension in his jaw; his back only slumped on the couch, lacking will.

He didn't understand. How can they be so happy when this reality is full of problems? The pale-haired male lacked movement; he just stared into space.

He was alive; he just stopped living.

" Mikey."

A rough voice came from behind, capturing the white-haired man's attention. Manjiro didn't budge; he just looked back. His orbs remained dead as he met those sickening green eyes, soaked in the influence of drugs and obsession.

"Let's go, " Haruchiyo calls over. Manjiro didn't have a facial reaction. He just stood up and shoved his hands down his empty pockets, walking towards the taller male. He was no longer the same vibrant Mikey; the one walking was just a shell of who he used to be.

Honestly; he looked like shit; and acted even shittier. He was lethargic, lacking his former shine. Manjiro was just about to step into the elevator when he caught a glimpse of someone through his peripheral vision. He stood frozen in his tracks, feet buried in cement. This time, he snapped his head back.

Then..

Manjiro saw him; his heart tumbling down in the process.

Raven hair, with eyes Manjiro could never forget. That soft gaze and the way his lips stretched into a smile all seemed so familiar.

Fuck.

Those blue eyes that resembled the ocean remained as bright as when he left. He always loved the ocean. Manjiro blinked once, then twice. He had to make sure that it wasn't just his brain making up this delusion. But once he reopened his eyes.

There he was, standing very much alive—Hanagaki Takemitchi.

Manjiro watched for what seemed like hours, but it was just a minute. Haruchiyo stood behind him, already waiting. Noticing his boss's odd action, he raised an amused brow and stepped out of the closing elevator.

" Hey Mikey, what's up?" he feigned concern, but the shorter male remained stunned. Watching as a pink-haired man held Takemitchi by the shoulder. There appeared a crack in his carefully practiced facade, as envy stirred his dormant heart.

Hinata was still with Takemitchi. They were still together—and that made Manjiro feel his guts twisting and his eyes growing heavy.

Takemitchi's Pov

Takemitchi's eyes darted from the leather couches to every plant in the hotel lobby—he was taken aback by how beautiful it was. Can they really afford this? He found himself hesitating, as he paid attention to the lobby's interior structure.

Takemitchi lingered for a moment when he felt arms wrapped around his waist pulling him close—he didn't pull away. Because he knew exactly who it was who held him close.

" Hinata, how did the check-in process go?" Takemitchi asked casually, looking back before he ultimately escaped from Hinata's embrace. Takemitchi turned and faced the taller male, a small smile decorating Takemitchi's face.

"It's finished," Hinata says with a grin, making Takemitchi nod in approval.

"Let us go then ?" He assumed, earning a nod of agreement from Hinata. " We might as well do. I'm so exhausted, " Hinata added, making Takemitchi chuckle.

In the flight, Takemitchi remained tense as ever—but, if you are seated with someone babbling that long, you are bound to open up.

So did Takemitchi.

" The luggage is left with the Hotel staff. We could grab a coffee in the hotel cafe, while the management settles the suite," the pink-haired lad suggests while he starts to walk, leading Takemitchi to one of the elevators.

All this was intently observed by Manjiro—his skin crawling was aching to bleed him dry as he watched Takemitchi walk past him with a smile.

Takemitchi didn't recognize him.

And so a part of him shattered.

As Takemitchi's figure disappeared within the closed elevator doors, Manjiro spoke between gritted teeth and the growing tension in his clenched jaw.

" Haruchiyo. Find where those two are staying. Report to me immediately," Manjiro spoke, alarmed, ticking of Sanzu, who managed to shrug and respond in a lazy nod.

As Manjiro remained standing on his spot, a part of him took over.

' I swear to fucking god. I'll make you mine again Takemitchi '

—Fuck. Argue. Then fuck again. —