The Last Train to You

Perhaps on a regular night, Kidou would've just shut off his phone and gone back to sleep. As a matter of fact, he was going to until the device vibrated and the screen lit up with a dull, bluish glare. One more peek wouldn't hurt, he decided.

He picked it up;

I might not have showed it but I do regret what I did. Sorry.

It was shocking enough for Kidou to jump straight out of bed, grabbing his cellphone with both hands and re-reading the message over and over. What the hell was going on? It was extremely uncharacteristic of Fudou to send an apologetic text at nearly 1 in the morning, no matter how unpredictable that guy was. Fudou never apologised, and even if he did, it would always be laced with sarcasm.

Kidou didn't even know what he was apologising for.

Well, he did. But that incident was over 4 years ago! Why was he apologising now, of all times? Did guilt suddenly overwhelm him in the middle of the night? No, that was highly unlikely.

He feverishly punched in a reply, his fingers trembling, stumbling over the buttons;

What are you talking about?

Perhaps by feigning ignorance, he could get Fudou frustrated enough to tell him what was going through his mind. And just how stupid was the guy? Kidou had obviously forgiven him a long time ago. He was sure Sakuma and Genda did too. Friendship meant forgiveness, didn't it? At least that was what Kidou thought it meant. He didn't think that it had to be said out loud— and although he appreciated the apology, he never needed it.

A minute passed, then ten. The two ticks accompanying his message only served to worry Kidou more.

Why wasn't he answering?

Kidou paced around his room, finally deciding to type another text— a simple

Where the hell are you?

He mumbled a "reply, idiot," under his breath, wishing that Fudou had one too many to drink, and that the vice grip in his chest was just an overreaction.

Panic rose to his throat when 'online' popped up besides Fudou's name, and quite suddenly;

At the train station. Don't bother.

Kidou flew out the door.

Fudou didn't live very far. They took the same train back from Teikoku, walking home together on most days. But how long would it take him to get there? 10, no, 5 minutes?

He was sprinting as fast as he could, but it wasn't helping that it was 17 degrees out and all he was wearing were pyjamas and home slippers.

He wanted to punch Fudou in the face. He really did. He would, too, that bastard! Telling him not to bother while literally begging him to bother.

He turned the corner and ran further up, jumping over the turnstiles because he had forgotten his wallet.

The station was understandably empty, with dim lights buzzing overhead, vending machines whirring and there he was.

Fudou.

The boy turned, meeting Kidou's gaze with his own wet one. He was standing just behind the platform's edge, with his hands stuffed deep into his jacket.

Two large duffel bags were by his feet.

"You came," he said, his voice sounding unnervingly crisp and distant at the same time. Goosebumps dotted Kidou's neck and arms— it felt as though he was witnessing the start of an apocalypse.

It felt like... something was ending.

"What is going on," Kidou demanded, turning all of his confusion into anger to stop himself from whimpering. "Where the hell are you going?! What did you mean by 'sorry'?"

He grabbed Fudou's wrist and pushed his phone's screen in his face. "Your text. I don't need an apology. I had already forgiven you, back then, when you changed your ways. Didn't you always say that actions speak louder than words?"

Fudou remained dead silent and stood uncomfortably still, the shine from the screen making it all too clear to see his tired, red-rimmed eyes.

The same gut-wrenching grip flooded back into Kidou's chest, dripping poison into the pits of his stomach.

"Fudou?" He pried gently, coaxingly, lowering his voice into a whisper. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Fudou's wrist slipped from his grasp and instead they tangled their fingers together, the bulge of their joints locking, pulling and tugging as Fudou's nails dug into his skin.

"I can't tell you everything. I don't have the time," Fudou glanced up briefly, where the digital signboard displayed the train's arrival time. As if confirming Fudou's expectations, the dreaded rattle of rail tracks resounded from a distance. He took a deep breath.

"But I can tell you that I'm glad to have met you. I absolutely hated you at first, I ain't gonna lie, and I made sure you felt that way about me as well. But I didn't think that you would turn out to be a friend. And a damn precious one at that. You're full of confidence, sweet, fierce and kindhearted and I don't know how you mix all that, but I do know that I fucking love it. I love all of it."

Something shifted then— in Kidou's core, something unexplainably seismic. His breath stuttered in his chest as Fudou tugged him into a hug, pressing hard into his body and hoping that they would meld into one. His hands tangled into Kidou's loose locks, shivering, burying his nose into the crook of his neck, and in that moment he had never hated the loud blare of a train horn more.

"What are you saying? Where are you even..." Kidou gripped at Fudou's stupid jacket, his mouth unable to catch up with his disoriented mind even as his fingers were tenderly untangled from the fabric.

The familiar, harsh light of the train carriage poured out onto the platform as the doors split open.

Kidou couldn't believe even a second of it. A soft sobbing noise escaped from the confines of his throat— nothing more than a strange choked gasp, yet it managed to make Fudou hesitate for a moment longer. Regret was written all over his face when he saw the tiny red veins speckled on the whites of Kidou's eyes, with tears perched precariously on his waterline, threatening to spill over.

"Here," he removed his jacket before wrapping it around Kidou's quivering shoulders, bending down to grab his bags.

"Where are you going?" Kidou asked again, his voice breaking as his friend stepped in.

Fudou smiled faintly, but his eyes had lost all lustre.

"I'll... miss you. I'll really miss you. Thanks for being my friend."

The doors slide shut, and the train's engines began pumping once more.

And Kidou was quite suddenly left alone on that awfully cold autumn night.