𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳. - 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐚𝐧

one.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐚𝐧

it hurts.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS!

one could only imagine the pain of reliving as the same man, retaining the same memories of the same woman who you could never have. breathing the air he'd learn to loathe so much, walking on the ground hoping that the pebble he'd been crushing under his shoe was his own heart- the man had learned that living has been nothing but a pain in the ass.

a crude joke that fate has placed against him- a never ending play where the scene changes yet the plot stays the same.

he never wanted this, never wanted to be the one forced under the spotlight as he bared the same role as he did decades ago- maybe even centuries from all that he could remember.

all he ever wanted was to have a lifetime where he could finally have the ending that he so rightfully deserves, can't the world give him at least that?

meet the man of the century- haitani ran, currently pushing into his mid-twenties and is a well-known executive of a yakuza gang called 'bonten'.

the man was never one to care for his well-being, nor does he care that he's always teetering on the edge of a cliff with death waiting on the endless abyss down below. he could care less if his head earns a hole from a bullet wound, nor does he care if he dies and never wakes up again.

anything is better than this accursed life he's been given.

maybe he cared once before- but that was before he's been thrown inside this limbo of endless suffering that initially took a toll on his mental strength. after all, there's only so much a man like him could handle.

admit it, even you'll go insane with this fucked up cycle fate has put on him.

dim, purple eyes stared at the ceiling of his office- the continuous buzzing of the fan acting as his white noise as his cellphone continued to ring, something that he doesn't want to pick up even for the sake of silencing it.

he's seen this more than once. albeit in a different scenario, yet the man did anything to change his fate of becoming part of a dangerous organization. the dual hair colored man couldn't think of any profession befitting of someone like him.

joining the police department is out of the equation in any of his lifetimes. medical field? please, he'd rather die than step inside a sterile building that once held a fond memory for him, now haunting the back of his mind like a broken record.

haitani ran was already a notorious 'king' in roppongi, so joining bonten was his first choice above anything else.

right now, he wants nothing more than to go home- drink a couple bottles of beer, binge watch on shows he's seen a handful of times just for the sake of avoiding a quiet house. hell, he'd even join his brother to manage his club if it meant straying away from total silence.

anything is better than what his mind wants him to face.

with a sigh, he closed his eyes as his phone stopped ringing, the fan stuttering before completely breaking down- covering his office with tranquility that he once would've appreciated.

when will this end?

when will he finally live a life without her plaguing his mind like some recurring nightmare?

his vision that was once dark is now replaced with something else, as the sun flashed by and he's transported back to when he was still eighteen, back in the spring of 2005. he could still smell the sickly sweet scent of blossoms, could feel the humid air as people walked past him. everything was a blur- save for someone standing in front of him.

with (h/c) hair and a beguiling smile, the girl who he once would've proudly called his stood there just out of arms reach.

he wanted to move, to get closer- yet he was screaming at himself not to, because he knows what awaits if he does.

yet, his dream self didn't listen to his pleas, and reached an arm out to hold her- to feel her skin against his just once more.  as his fingertips grazed the fabric of her uniform, the scene changed- everything was red, and she was laying in front of him cold and lifeless.

the scene in front of him was something he'd grown too familiar with, as did any nightmare that he'd dream off. whether it be at a school, in her clinic, or even at the beach- it will all end the same, with her dying as he reaches out to her.

however, he knew better to wave them off as a mere dream- knowing damn well that these were his memories from multiple lifetimes over.

ran didn't know what he did to deserve such twisted fate. for all he knows, he could've insulted a god that cursed him with a life like this. but to hell with gods. no heavenly body would be sick enough to think of his situation as retribution. he lost all faith that he had in him the moment she married his brother, lost all sense of sanity the moment he keeps waking up in different years as the same man who keeps on losing the same girl.

oh dear, i'm three years too late, aren't i?

he didn't care if someone is behind his suffering, couldn't care less if this is some sick fantasy someone wanted him to live in.

all he wants is to die and never live again.

"ran, the boss is callin' for a meeting."

with heavy eye lids, he forced himself to wake up, thankful that he forced the maintenance staff to make his lights dim as he turned his head to meet his co-worker, sanzu haruchiyo- or, akashi haruchiyo.

the pink-haired male was leaning against the door frame, eyes boredly staring into his as his scarred mouth was curved into a small frown.

ran let out a tired chuckle, sitting upright as he recollected his thoughts. damn, did he sleep again?

"alright." his fellow executive could only stare as the dual-hair colored man stood up from his chair, watching as his chest heaved as if he's been out of breath for so long.

everyone could tell that the man had too much on his plate despite acting so laid back, even sanzu himself couldn't be bothered to wake him up whenever he visits his office to snort lines on the marbled table.

they just couldn't figure out what caused him to be this way.

but oh well, he does get the job done.

"i heard it's something big about port mafia." the scarred man spoke as the two walked down the winding hallways, earning a hum from his companion.

"do you think it's another raid?"

"i think it's more than that."

nothing could prepare them for what's to come- especially haitani ran himself.