Regiphobia

The Anxiety

Days swept by. Only Juan noticed the bruise, and it faded away. Not invisible, but hardly noticeable. It was Friday, the day before Goda's father went to trial. He was incredibly nervous that day, looking paler than normal. He ate even less than he'd been managing to force down before, he felt sick, he just wanted to curl up and sleep until it was all over.

There was a knock on the door to his room. He pulled it open. A man only a few inches taller than himself stood there, in a suit with a briefcase in his hand. He had square black glasses that were about as dark as his hair. He held out a hand, "Goda Koetsu, correct? My name is Moto Jo. I'm the lawyer that will be going against your father."

Any color left in Goda's face drained at that moment. He simply nodded, unable to find the right words. "I'm here to speak with you about being a witness in the trial tomorrow. I know this is rather short notice, but better late than never." Moto's face looked almost... emotionless. It was slightly freaky. "Is there anywhere that's better suited for this conversation?"

"Um- Th-The sitting room," Goda said quietly. Even after two weeks, he still didn't want to go in there again. He knew the bloodstains on the carpet and table were probably cleaned up, but it was... even thinking about it made him want to shut the door and never come out.

The lawyer nodded, stepping away from the door. Goda adjusted his crutches, leading Moto over. He felt sick. He stepped inside, not looking at

"Like hell you don't!"

the spot where he had laid when Juan found him. He took a seat, and Moto sat across from him. "So, let me give you a brief rundown. They'll swear you in, just be respectful and answer the questions honestly. Do you want me to tell you some of the questions so you can mentally prepare yourself? I was told that you have an anxiety disorder and putting you on the spot seems like a bad move."

Goda nodded. He could guess who told him that. "Alright, the questions will, of course, revolve around your relations with your father. How he injured you, your past with him, both before and during your stay at the castle, the events of two weeks ago, et cetera. Do you think you can handle that?"

Goda hesitated. Could he? Of course, they needed him to be a witness, but could he handle it? He nodded, despite not knowing the answer to that question. He didn't have much of a choice, to be fair. Gabe would probably make him if he said no, anyway. So why not make him happier and just do it himself?

"Good. Do you have any questions?" Moto asked. He shook his head. The lawyer nodded, stood up, and left. Goda was alone, in the sitting room where his dad had broken his leg two weeks prior, shivering and dreading the next day. He pulled his uninjured leg against his chest, resting his head on his leg and sighing. He held back the tears. He had cried enough the past few days.

He stayed there for quite a while, just breathing and trying his hardest not to think. He eventually grabbed his crutches and stood, making his way back towards his room. He stopped in front of the door, then turned and made his way to the elevator. He stepped in and pressed a button. It started descending, straight to the basement. He needed to do two things.

As soon as the doors opened, he went towards the mail room. He went inside, avoiding other people. He grabbed a paper and a pen, scratching out his message.

1 PM. Study. Please.

-G

Then he slipped it in Juan's mailbox when no one was looking. He knew Juan usually checked his box around noon. He'd only have to wait around two hours for him to meet him. He could maybe try and distract himself until then. First, he needed to try something.

He left the room, making his way across the floor to the only locked room on that floor. There was another on the first floor, he knew. Those were the only rooms he wasn't allowed to enter. He glanced around before placing his hand on the doorknob and trying to turn it.

Still locked. What had he expected? He sighed and headed back to the elevator. He'd wait in his study until Juan showed up. He pressed the button and started up to the fourth floor. It only took a few moments, since no one else typically used this elevator. He stepped out when the doors slid open, going over to his study. He walked in, taking a seat at his desk. He set his crutches off to the side, looking at his art.

Disgusting shit.

It was scattered over the desk. It looked pretty damn good, with all the practice he had. He picked up one paper. Just some sketches of trees. He set it off to the side, grabbing a new one and a light pencil. He started sketching out a face. A very specific face, that he'd seen a lot of in the past three weeks. Three weeks. He'd known Juan for just three weeks, yet it felt like a lifetime. He felt so different around him, so much happier than normal. It was amazing.

He kept sketching. He had a bit less than two hours to work on it, but he was OK with that. He could always just hide it when Juan arrived. He didn't have to, he didn't take Juan to be the type to destroy his art if he didn't like it... but just in case. He kept working, not noticing as time slipped by around him. Lines and erasing and more lines and more erasing. He hoped it turned out well. Art and singing were some of his only pastimes before he got to the castle, so he was pretty good at both. He didn't check the clock until he heard a knock at the door. Had it been two hours already?

He got up, getting his crutches in place, and walked to the door. He pulled it open, smiling when he saw Juan. The other smiled back, stepping inside. When the door was shut, Juan hugged Goda. The latter pushed his crutches away, resting in the other's arms.

"I love you, Goda," Juan said, "Are you OK? I know the trial is tomorrow, that's probably a lot to deal with. Are you doing alright?"

Goda smiled lightly, but behind it was worry. "I love you, t-too. And... I guess. It's j-just a lot, and I'm really... I'm sc-cared, and I'm anxious, and I really, really don't want t-to be there..."

"But you have to go against your dad!" Juan said, lightly running his hand down the other's arm,

"I kn-know, I... what if he doesn't go to p-prison? What if he attacks me again th-there? I can't- I mean, he would, if he kn-knew I-" Goda looked down, unable to meet Juan's eyes.

Juan moved his hand to Goda's cheek, tilting his head up. "Goda, he's going to go to jail. They have evidence that's impossible to refute, they have video proof of you guys going to the room, and they have you to tell them everything!"

"B-But-"

"No buts! Look, I'll even be there with you if you want. I mean, I'm fairly certain I'm already stationed to be a guard at the trial, so I can protect you if anything bad happens!"

Goda looked into Juan's emerald eyes, then nodded. He trusted him to keep him safe. Juan smiled lightly, pulling Goda back into a tight hug. "I promise, I won't let anyone else hurt you," he said softly. Goda nodded, but he knew he couldn't keep his word on that. Not as long as Gabe still had him.

Sure, he felt safe in Juan's arms. Sure, he felt happy, protected, amazing, in love, safe. But what did a feeling even count for? What did his emotions count for anyway? Nothing. He was nothing, just like his father taught him.

He hid in Juan's arms, listening to his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Easy to listen to. He closed his eyes, resting there. He tried to stop his thoughts, but he knew it wouldn't work. His mind kept racing through possibilities, through terror and fear and all of his anxieties.

He was nothing. A boy who broke long ago. A messed up person. A glass man that had been shattered, over and over and over, and hastily pieced back together. At any moment, at any touch, he could shatter again, needing to be put back together again. At any break, he may not be salvageable anymore.

Juan's promise could never hold true while he was here. Not unless he found the strength to speak up. Not unless he could escape. He wanted Juan to be right, so, so badly, but he couldn't make that be true.

Not as long as he was Gabe's.