trauma bonding ~ dustbunny

eleven

"If you're not going to give it to Fuyumi fucking donate it or something," Keigo drawled. He was very obviously hung over which might be partly Rumi's fault. When Keigo gets stressed he drinks and Rumi being out all night with not warning could be fairly stressful. "Maybe I'll burn it," she snarled, staring at the duffel bag in front of her. That dumbass left all his shit at the gym. Her dumbass took all his shit home. She couldn't stop replaying last night in her head. Over and over and over again.

"Thank you, for confirming something I already already knew, no where is safe!" 

That word; safe. Maybe he was at the hospital for a legitimate reason. That would mean Rumi yelled at him tiwce for no fucking reason. "Just take it to him yourself. Apologize are whatever the fuck," the blonde groan, taking a sip of his black coffee. He almost instantly spits back into his mug and gags. "Ew." Rumi refuses to indulges in the conversation of why he drinks something he despises so much. "You didn't see him Keigo. He looked....fuck I don't know." She rest her head in her hands, trying to gather her thoughts together. Why did she care so much? This wasn't her problem. So what if she made him cry or crash out. It had nothing to do with her.

But...

...if he wasn't at the hospital to be a freak why was he there? If he was actually there to be apart of the group why didn't he just go inside. Looking back on that day, the way his eyes watered and he tensed when she spoke to him.  Broken. He looked broken. The look on his face was too reminiscence of her own.  

✶

Rumi wanted nothing more than to believe it wasn't true. She wanted to deny it but how could she with a tube of pink lipstick in her hand. A tube that didn't belong to her or her girlfriend. 

"What the fuck is this?" Chitose turned off the sink and turned away from doing the dishes. "What's what?" she questioned, drying off her hands. Rumi held up the golden tube. And she saw it. The flash of shock in Chitose's eyes. Her eyes go wide for less than a second but that's all Rumi needed. "You really brought someone else to the house? Are you fucking kidding me!?" Chitose quickly regained her composer but she laughs nervously. "It's lipstick Rumi, two women live here you know-" Rumi drew her arm back and lunched the tube at the cabinet above the purple haired women. "Don't give me that bullshit!" 

"Rumi what the fuck!!" 

"Which bitch was it this time!? The bartender or the waitress!" Chitose laughs almost manically. "You always fucking do this. Why do you have to overreact over everything!" she screamed. "Overreacting!? You want an overreaction!?" Rumi took a freshly clean plate from the counter and smashed it on the ground. "It's easier when I keep my fucking mouth shut, isn't it!?" she yelled before smashing a second. "You're fucking crazy!" And that was true. She was crazy. But was that her fault? 

✶

Rumi finally felt it. Guilty. She always went straight for yelling without properly getting all the information. And now she was here. Despite having nothing to do with this guy, she felt a strange obligation to fix it. "Fuck," she hissed. Reluctantly, she pulled out her phone and called her friend. She should probably apologize to her too for blowing her off so often. "Hello?" Fuyumi answers instantly. "Hey Yumi, who's the guy who knows your brother?" Rumi asked vaguely. "Um, I-I might need more information."

"I yelled at him."

"Oh, that was Tomura." 

Rumi nods. "Right, where can I find him?" she asks, not even acknowledging how odd this exchange is. "Is everything okay?" Fuyumi questions. "Yeah, I just need to give him something. Do you have his address?" Fuyumi pauses for a second. "No, I don't actually, he moved recently. But I do believe he's working right now."  That'll work too. "Alright, send me the place. Thanks." Keigo stared at her with his jaw open as he watched her put on her shoes. "Holy shit you're actually going to see him." She resisted the urge to glare him down. "I'm tired of being a bitch." She was tried of being crazy.