Call for Help (Zombie_In_A_Box; Yu_Kanda_YK)

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

 

 

Name: Miyashita Yasahiro

 

Age: 25

 

Plot Summary: One of the characters works at the suicide hotline when a person from the past calls, with a shaky voice muttering how much they want to kill themselves and don't know what to do. After working through it, the first character suggests they meet up and he could try to help face-to-face.

 

 

Suicide hotline. An auburn-haired, blue-eyed male by the name of Yasahiro sat at his table as he filled in a new log into the system to record the latest call. The records were heavily protected by passwords to safeguard the callers' information and none of the documents were diverged to the public or shared among the agents during coffee breaks or anywhere else. Except when required by court, records were pulled out but information was only shared with a selected few including the judge. It was the company's policy that all callers were protected and their information safely guarded in order to offer the best services, to enable people who wished to commit suicide to feel that it is safe to call for help from a stranger and not have their episodes revealed to the community.

 

As much as the lithe-figured man love his work (it never fails to make him feel good every single time to successfully divert someone's focus from trying to commit suicide to keeping themselves occupied with other, hopefully, happy activities), today proved to be a typical slow day. He glanced at the digital clock at the bottom right of his computer. Another three hours to go before the end of his shift. Cracking his knuckles as he leaned backwards, his head thumping lightly on the headrest of his black swivel chair, he contemplated what he should buy for dinner tonight. Convenience store bento again? He was getting sick of them. Maybe he should get frozen pizza or something. Give himself a break from all the healthy eating his mother stresses so much on. Although convenience store bentos were not good for his health (to him, it is very close to healthy on his very own chart), he just could not find himself cooking a proper meal after a tiring day. Sure he can cook basic dishes to survive. But why spend time cooking when you can get something instant from the store? And why spend hours preparing food when you can lay back on the couch to watch TV or read a book while relaxing.

 

Yasahiro drummed his fingers on the table, expecting another call to come soon. Depression is a common illness. On average, it affects 1 in 4 people in the world. While most of the people have suicidal thoughts, not all of them would take action to do so. For those who do, he prayed that they rest in peace in their graves. For those who attempt to, it was his job to persuade them to abstain themselves from performing any suicidal activities that would not only endanger their lives but cause despair to the people around them.

 

The male shifted in his seat as the phone on his table rang. Taking in a deep breath, he tapped his headphone to answer the call while pulling the mini microphone close.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

 

Name: Hayashi Jurou

Age: 26

 

 

Thud. With a sharp sound, yet another can of beer was thrown on the ground. No one bothered to collect them anymore. Shaking hands blindly grabbed around for the remote to switch the channel. The blue-ish light was the only source of light in the messy room with just one person in it. The single person, who didn't really want to be there. Not even in this room particularly - no, he didn't want to be in this world in general. This universe, this planet, he didn't want to be in this miserable life anymore.

 

He'd been feeling so empty lately. Nothing mattered anymore... Slowly, Jurou pushed himself to stand up. He thought of the best way to kill himself, at last. Slitting his wrists may take some time, but if he slit his throat... If he managed to get the artery, it wouldn't take long for him to bleed out. It would take some time for anyone to actually catch on the fact that he was dead. After all, he took unpaid leave from his work and told all his friends that he would be away. Yeah... He would be away, in a way.

 

While making way to the kitchen, the man managed to trip at least trice. These past few days he just drank and watched TV, not much else. He wouldn't be too surprised if he'd peed somewhere in the living room at some point. When he just wanted to kill himself, the smells and sights didn't really matter anymore.

 

Taking the knife into his hand proved to be more difficult than he thought. His hand was too shaky to hold onto it properly. Jurou attempted to grip it tighter, but instead of making it better, the knife slipped out of his hand entirely. He tried to catch it, but his palm ended up on the blade instead of the handle. The pain that radiated from the cut brought him back to his senses, also tearing a pained groan from his mouth.

 

Watching blood slowly drip onto the ground made him feel sick. Jurou dropped onto his knees, feeling his shoulders shaking. He wanted to kill himself, didn't he?! Maybe not... But the knife was so close. He was so close to achieving eternal quiet and calmness.

 

But maybe... Maybe he could try?.. He had the suicide hot-line number saved on his phone from ages before. Jurou just had to press one button and he was able to talk with someone. "H...Hello?" He hadn't talked for at least two days. "I wa-," He choked up on the lump in his throat. When did that get there?... "I want to ki... Kill myself..." He whispered, his body slowly leaning forwards until he was basically laying on the floor. Empty darkness surrounded him completely, his eyes closing as he waited for someone, for anyone to say something. Anything.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Hearing a rough voice on the other end of the line, Yasahiro wondered how long has it been since the stranger talked to someone else. He would offer a glass of water if he were physically present next to this person. Unfortunately, he was in his workplace, bound to his desk and the only thing he could offer to the caller was reassurance, through the phone.

 

When the stranger choked on his words, he could empathise how anxious the other must be. He must applaud though, to all callers who managed to gather their courage to seek help by calling up the suicide hotline.

 

Knowing that the caller wished to speak more, he waited to listen to what the other would say. Usually, the conversation would begin with someone telling him that they wanted to die or inflict harm on any part of their body. So, colour him unsurprised when the stranger said the same thing he has been hearing for the nth time for that week.

 

However, it occurred to him that the caller's voice sounded familiar to him. Maybe it was just his imagination. He has met so many people during his 25 years of life. There were bound to be people who sounded similar to one of his acquaintances' voice. Or perhaps the other might be a worker at the local convenience store? Who knows?

 

"Hello, Sir," he spoke in a soothing manner, in hopes that it would offer some form of comfort to the caller, even just by a little. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I understand what you're going through. It is not a nice feeling to have. However, please listen to what I am going to say. Are you still listening?"

 

While some of his fellow teammates might find it inappropriate to ask whether their caller was still on the line, Yasahiro found it helpful to know that his listeners are paying attention and are ready to receive his words of persuasion.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

The voice that replied was gentle, soothing even. Somehow just hearing it made Jurou feel at least a little bit better. The man let himself sink deeper into the dark abyss, however with little discomfort. This voice felt familiar, perhaps that was why it lulled him to relaxation slowly. "Yes." He managed to get out, although his voice grew weaker. No, he knew this voice. He definitely knew this voice. Or maybe he was going crazy, that was also an option.

 

"You... You can't know what I'm going t-through..." He heaved out, squeezing his eyes tightly when the words finally got through to him. "I haven't told you anything..." Jurou continued to speak, although his throat felt as dry as the Sahara desert. Even in such state, he was as defensive as ever. This guy didn't know shit about him. Did he want him to know, that was an entirely different question.

 

While he waited, Jurou was frantically trying to find the person to whom this voice belonged to. Was it someone he knew now? Or someone from the past? It was familiar, but he couldn't really place his finger on the owner. He could remember someone having a voice that soothed him, but... How come he couldn't remember who it was?

 

Jurou was pretty sure it was in school... And that he didn't like the guy. His voice was way too nice and... And it reminded him of bad times. So he behaved like an ass to him - he made sure to make each day of that guy's life hell. Each day... Be it pushing him down a flight of stairs or nearly drowning him in a toilet, he made this guy suffer. He hoped he could apologize... His apology wouldn't be accepted, probably. But still. Just saying those two words would be better.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Yasahiro could not help but smile genuinely when the caller answered, telling him that he has his attention. Good. It was a good sign that this person should be easy to handle because he was willing to listen to what he was about to say. Taking a small breath in, he parted his lips to put his persuasion skills to work.

 

However, he was interrupted and truly surprised at what the stranger spoke next. Moments stretched on and he was about to tell the other that while he may not know exactly what the stranger was going through because everyone has their own experiences when it comes to feeling suicidal, he has a vague idea what a suicidal person might be experiencing. After all, he has a degree in psychology and sociology and he was proud of them. Also, he has been working as a suicide hotline agent for at least 2 years.

 

Before he could utter a word though, realisation hit him like a bucket of ice water. He knew this voice. This stranger was no stranger as he thought. Fear gripped him as if the hell hounds were chasing him. His breathing quickened. Is he going to have an anxiety attack in the middle of work? His palms sweat as he tapped his fingers nervously on his desk. His colleague glanced at him in worry but he schooled his features into one of fake reassurance that he was okay. His colleague turned back to his work.

 

Doing a short breathing exercise softly, he berated himself for not being able to control his emotions. He was supposed to act professional and there is a person on the line who needs his help. There is no time for freaking out. He could freak out later when he is safe at home, surrounded by his apartment walls. He stowed away those horrible memories into the dark decesses of his brain, locked it back up and never again, does he wish to revisit his past.

 

"Then would you like to tell me what you are going through? At least, after telling someone, it will make you feel better even by a little. If after telling me still doesn't work for you, we could do a few things to get you through this, okay? Don't worry. I will help you." He said the last with such confidence, he hoped that the slight tremble in his voice would go unheard. He wondered if his past bully recognise who he is and he shook his head. He definitely hoped not.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

The silence that stood after he spoke was both scaring and irritating him. Which emotion was stronger, he didn't know until the tears started rolling down his cheeks. As he tried to ask if the man was still there, he found himself unable to let a single sound out. The silence was heavy, it surrounded him from all sides, it squeezed him into this tiny cage. He found it hard to breath with a lump in his throat. Even the person who was supposed to help him didn't want to talk to him. What point was there in living?!

 

Just as he was about to throw his phone away, preferably into a wall, the soothing voice came back. Well... The previously soothing voice. Now it seemed scared. He didn't feel as if this person really wanted to help him. Perhaps talking it out would feel good, but...

 

No, he had to try.

 

"I feel empty." He muttered through clenched teeth, tears burning his eyes. "Nothing... Nothing matter anymore... I have everything anyone could ask for!" There he stopped, to push the lump down. "Had." He corrected himself, closing his eyes. Lying on the cold floor, he found it even harder to talk. "The worst thing... The worst thing is the nightmares. I... I've done bad things. Horrible things. Now I can't push them away..." He whispered quietly, his shoulders shaking. "I feel like I can't control anything, and... And everything is just slipping away..." Jurou spoke, realizing how pathetic he sounded.

 

"I'm just so fucking useless, I..." This was where he just couldn't speak anymore. The only sounds afterwards were soft hiccups and sharp breathing as he tried to get some air into his lungs, somehow...

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Listening to the caller, no, Hayashi Jurou (He remembered his name now. How could he forget? For all those years, he had suffered in silence. No one would help him. His friends told him that the bullying would go away in time. And he believed them that it would be so. Unfortunately, the torture did not stop. Nor did his classmates offered to help. Are they even his friends, he thought bitterly. Friends. What is the definition of a true friend? Sure he has a lot of acquaintances now but none of them were any closer to a friend to him.) talked to him with a mixed of emotions, he could empathise. After all he had been there. The nightmares. Except that he was on the receiving end rather than the one delivering the blows.

 

Useless, that was the word Hayashi had used to describe himself right now. Useless was what Yasahiro was during high school. But useless, he no longer is right now. In fact, Yasahiro would label himself as successful right now. A well-paid job, an affordable apartment and friendly neighbours surrounded him. The only thing he lacked right now is the right company in the form of a... man. It is truly lonely to return to an empty house.

 

However, now is not the right time to ponder about his lack of a relationship.

 

Hiccups filled the silence between them as Yasahiro bit his lips. "Hey, you are not useless. No one is ever useless in this world. You are created for a reason. All of those bad things... you can start all over again. Don't punish yourself over this. I know you feel bad right now but please, please stay with me. I need you to think of the most important person in your life."

 

He waited for a few seconds, giving Jurou time to think of one before he spoke again, "the one that you love the most. Be it your parent, your friend or your lover. Are you thinking of them right now?" He did not wait for an answer. Yasahiro continued talking, calming himself as he did so, ensuring that his voice will take on a gentle lull. He smiled.

 

"Now I want you to imagine their face shaped in the clouds, imagine their voice. Imagine that they are crying for your help." He stopped as he listened for anything from the other line. Although Jurou had been horrible to him in the past, he believed that the other has changed. He may have given him pain a few years ago but now, he just seemed so... vulnerable. It was strange because Yasahiro is suddenly consumed by the desire to give this person a hug of a lifetime. No one deserves to feel the way Jurou feel right now even if they have done wrong during their younger days.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Hearing the voice come back felt good. After talking it out, he could focus again... Although his hiccups did make it a little bit harder, he wasn't able to hold them down. The brunet bit down on his trembling lip, squeezing his cut hand into a tight fist, the sharp pain bringing a pained gasp from his mouth. Along with that, he managed to bring his attention back to the request.

 

The only person he could think of was his older sister. She at least tried to talk to him when he got into one of his angry moods, when rage overtook him. The man squeezed his eyes shut tightly, letting out a shaky breath as he imagined what the other told him to. Why did he have to imagine that? It was already hard enough right now, that image just brought him sadness.

 

Imagining his sister in pain made him take in a sharp breath, letting out a shaky one. "I don't like it.." He whispered through his tears, feeling a salty taste in his mouth. He definitely didn't like it. His sister was probably the best person he could have met. She was so amazing... Beautiful, too. Jurou could still remember how he held the woman when her boyfriend left her. Only years after that did she finally confess that he'd raped her that night... That explained her visit to the hospital. Apparently, she had to have an abortion, as she didn't feel she was ready for a child.

 

Thinking of that guy always sent him into a blind rage.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

He had expressed his dislike for what Yasahiro told him to do. That would not do. The auburn-haired male bit his chapped lips as he gave it some thought. It usually worked for his clients when he asked them to imagine their loved ones and to be reminded that they are loved. That people do care and would be sad to see their close ones leave. Usually, that is. Hayashi was no usual case.

 

That he know. Hayashi was no usual case because they had a past. Not a stranger but not a friend. His worst nightmare. But Yasahiro had healed from his past, if not fully, at least he was better. He no longer visited those horrible memories every day. Sure, there were a few episodes now and then but they no longer haunted his dreams.

 

And he was determined to help this person. If not for Hayashi or his job, at the very least, for himself.

 

They should meet up. It may be unprofessional and against the company's policy. Nevertheless, the blue-eyed male felt it necessary, maybe.

 

He should try another method first. If it proves unsuccessful then he should arrange a meeting with Hayashi and helped him get through it. His once bully, now vulnerable, needed his aid and he, scared as he may be, was willing to give Hayashi a second chance. A second chance, to prove to Yasahiro that he is a changed man. To prove to him that he is worth the risk Yasahiro is willing to take.

 

"It's okay. You don't have to like this. We'll try something else." A small smile appeared on his face as he thought of a probable solution.

 

"Can you stand up? Can you get a paper and a pen?" He questioned. If this does not work, then they shall meet. Who knows, it might benefit both of them if they were to encounter each other again.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Jurou let out a somewhat-relieved breath when he was told he didn't have to imagine it anymore. Although it definitely wasn't easy to just erase the image, not focusing on it was a little better. He kept his eyes closed, though. It didn't matter so much, since all that surrounded him was darkness anyway. These past few days he didn't find a reason for light, even. Not like it helped him in any way - not having it on, however, lessened his bills.

 

"I... I don't know..." He muttered at the two questions. Jurou tore his eyes open, shivering as nothing changed. It didn't feel real anymore. Slowly, the man attempted to get up, although his knees were shaking and his hand still hurt as hell. He was sure it would get infected if he didn't get it checked, but maybe it would be deadly and he'd die! Then no one would blame him too much... He could just pass away like that.

 

The brunet leaned down to grab his phone, just carrying it in his hand as he made way to the windowsill, where he sometimes had a notebook and a few pens. This time they were there, thankfully. Jurou took them and sat down at the table, wiping his eyes with his arm as he brought the phone back to his ear. Somehow, he didn't even mind trying all that much when it was this voice that told him to do so.

 

"I did it..." He murmured out quietly, barely any emotion showing in his voice. The little hints that did show were fear and sadness.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

The person sounded unsure when asked to do a simple task of getting a pen and a paper, it made Yasahiro sad. It was as if the confident self that was the past Hayashi was no more and was replaced by another. Just as he was contemplating whether to just arrange a meeting with Hayashi right after his work and be done with it, he heard some rustling in the background. Oh, he's probably finding those two items, the blue-eyed male thought.

 

Yasahiro waited patiently as he typed in a few things into his computer and then twirled a pen between his fingers. It did not take long for Hayashi to return with the items at hand. The auburn-haired man smiled. Small tasks to distract the caller from thinking about their own death. It would take some time to get the suicide mission completely off a suicidal person's mind but having them doing simple acts to divert their attention elsewhere is counted as small success.

 

"Good," he said. A form of encouragement and praise to make someone feel better. "Now I want you to write from one to ten, each number in a new row."

 

While he has Hayashi do so, he grab a blank piece of paper as well from his desk and penned down the numbers up till ten slowly so that the other person would have some time to complete his own. "Now I want you to list down ten things that you enjoy doing. You don't have to tell me any of them but I would love to hear them if you want to share." Yasahiro started writing in his own sheet of paper too.

 

A year ago, he started learning the violin. It was a bit late for an adult of his age to take up music but he found playing an instrument soothing to his mind. It was something he enjoyed doing so he filled it into his list.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Jurou listened quietly, nipping on his lip as he stared at the wound on his palm. Even in this darkness, he could make out the contours of it. Blindly, the man reached out to turn the light on when he heard the task. He scribbled down the numbers, squinting at the paper as he spent so much time in the darkness, the light, even as dim as this, hurt his eyes. When he finally could, he looked around, and he was sure that if he cared a little bit about how he lived, he would be horrified at the sight. The place where he was laying had a small puddle of blood from his palm, which was now pulsing with pain.

 

"Wh... Ten?" Jurou asked with fear creeping in his voice. He probably wouldn't be able to think of ten... He stared at the paper, trying to find at least one thing he still enjoyed here. Something that still brought him joy... The only thing that came into his mind was drinking, in a way. It numbed his senses to the point he just felt relaxed, so, in a way, happy.

 

"I don't think I can." He finally murmured out into the phone, setting the pen down in defeat. "Drinking... Probably doesn't count, huh?" This had to be the first time Jurou attempted to joke, even if about such a thing.

 

Before, he could've listed twenty, at least. He used to enjoy so many things! Walks at night, watching movies, playing cards, at some point he really enjoyed stargazing, too. The moment everything he liked became boring was probably when one of his closest friends died. Lung cancer, how funny is that? She was an athlete, never smoked and... Life could really be unfair, that he was sure of. So why live? Why even try to go with the erratic pace of this hellhole?

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Yasahiro's heart stopped when the fearful voice reached his ears. Maybe meeting Hayashi would not be such a bad idea now. It was not like he would get violent now, would he? Self-harm, yes but violence? Well, he could always call for help if worse comes to worst. He did take defence too in college. It would not be so bad, right? He wondered briefly if the caller retained his muscular physique from high school. Yasahiro pursed his lips. Even if he did, it does not matter.

 

Hearing what Hayashi said that he could not and also, mentioned drinking made Yasahiro came to a resolve. You know what, he should just meet up with the other and gave himself closure as well. They had a past. So what? It was only that they had a past that he would like to meet up. Hopefully, Hayashi would agree.

 

"Yes, drinking does not count. But if you're drinking wine with company, dining in a restaurant, why not?" He bit his lips as he folded his completed list and shoved it into his pants pocket. He did not know why he did what he did but maybe to look over it sometime later and complete the tasks written in there if ever he felt down.

 

"Listen, Hayashi. I would really like to help you help yourself. Would you agree to a meeting with me?" Does the other know who he is? Hayashi did not make any comments on it even if he did. 'I mean, would he meet up with a total stranger working at the suicide helpline? Ridiculous,' he thought, shaking his head.

 

However, if the other does not agree, the blue-eyed man would not hesitate to gather more information including the other's address. And then pay an unexpected visit. Oh, he would do that, alright. Because once he has set a mind on something, he was determined to do it and make it a success.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Why not? Because he was this close to becoming an alcoholic, that's why. When you were so deep in, even wine became dangerous, no matter the company. Each sip of any alcoholic beverage was dangerous, each brought him closer and closer to the "finish line".

 

The brunet opened his mouth to reply when it finally clicked that his name was mentioned. Silence stood as he tried to remember telling the stranger his name... And then it all came to place.

 

As the phone fell out of his shaking hands, the man stared at it with wide, terrified eyes. Oh, he'd told this man his name countless times. Usually just before flunking his head into the toilet. His past came back to him like a flood, making him suffocate.

 

Now not only his hands were shaking - his whole body was. Slowly, he reached for the phone, his breath coming out in short, sharp gasps for air before he gripped the device and threw it into a wall. His phone shattered completely as he clawed at the gashing wound on his palm, unable to find a single reason someone he'd bullied so long ago would even want to help him. There wasn't even one reason. Just like the blank list in front of him, his mind was so as well. As he watched the blood flow down his hand, the brunet shook with pain; both emotional and physical.

 

Right now, the best thing for him to do was probably just slash his throat. With the horrible memories, the wish to be out of this world was even bigger than at first.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

The line went dead, causing Yasahiro to panic. No, what had he done? The other person could not just have hung up on him. He could have at the very least disagreed before hanging up. No, not with that unstable state that he was in right now.

 

The auburn-haired man cursed under his breath as he quickly call the phone service center to help track where Hayashi was when he called. Biting his lips, hopefully he could reach him just in time. He was responsible for causing the man to react the way he did. It was his job to persuade people from committing suicide and now he was doing the opposite for Hayashi.

 

Realising how bad the situation was, he next called his boss to tell him that he was going to see one of his clients who was in danger of killing himself but he did not give a name. His boss waved him away and wished him luck.

 

Clutching the messily scribbled address in his hands, he dressed himself in his coat in a hurry and threw his papers and stationery into his shoulder bag before he all but fled from his workplace.

 

Oh God, please be okay. He prayed. Already, he was feeling strongly for the vulnerable man who was once his bully. How things have changed.

 

Sticking out his hand, he hailed for a cab to bring him to Hayashi's place. He bit his lips as he contemplated in silence as to what he should do when he arrived at the man's house. Should he knock his door down if the man did not answer? Or call for help? Or an ambulance? Is a psychiatrist needed?

 

He hoped he was not too late when he finally stepped out of the cab. Please let him be not too late. He could not live to know that he had failed to save Hayashi. There were a few inevitable cases where the caller killed themselves before the suicide helpline workers could persuade them further to not do so but that was rare. Most of time, the callers were successfully convinced that they should live longer, if not for themselves, for the people they love.

 

Yasahiro smacked his forehead. He had forgotten to call the landlord which exactly was Hayashi's living quarters. When he finally made the call, the landlord did not suspect him of anything. Perhaps he thought Yasahiro was a new friend of one of his tenants'. He offered the unit number readily and soon, the blue-eyed male found himself standing before his past bully's door.

 

Taking a deep breath in, he pressed the doorbell and waited.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

The whole room seemed to be spinning. Jurou gasped for air, absolutely out of it - the place he hoped to get help just had him closer to the edge of killing himself. No... He did get the help he wanted. Just, the person he got the help from, it was not a person who should've helped him in any way. No, Yasahiro, to whom he'd caused so much pain, should've just told him to piss off. He wasn't worth the help!

 

He'd never felt this hopeless before. He knew the knife was somewhere near. As he attempted to stand up, he found himself unable to even keep balance. He tripped over his own feet, all air pushed out of his lungs as he fell down on the floor. From there, he didn't find a reason to stand up. The knife he could reach now, anyway.

 

And so he did. The man gripped the handle with shaking hands, just looking at it for the time being. The few moments turned into minutes, as he contemplated whether to kill himself or try to seek help somewhere else. Why would he seek help though? This would haunt him in his dreams either way. If he didn't kill himself right now, he would do it later on. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next month, maybe the next year... The possibility of him staying alive thanks to his own wish to do so was extremely slim.

 

He didn't realize how long he'd been laying there with a knife in his hand until the doorbell rang. These past few days, he didn't even bother locking it. Anyone could enter... But no one did. Jurou slowly moved the knife to his neck, squeezing his eyes shut as he sucked in what he thought would be his last breath before pressing the tip against his skin. He grazed the surface, drawing a little bit of blood before gripping the knife tighter to push it in.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Yasahiro was getting impatient from waiting. He gnawed his lips. Perhaps Hayashi was out? That can't be true. Not in the current state he was in. Especially not in that state.

 

Frantic with worry, he tried the door handle, hoping that it would budge. If not, he would have to knock the door down. Thankfully, the door was not locked. Who leave their apartment doors unlocked at this hour? Or is Hayashi home? He thought hopefully. He prayed that he was just in time to stop whatever rash decision his past bully made, like killing himself.

 

Pushing the door open slowly, the hinges creaked as he croaked out a small "hello" but nobody answered. Yasahiro slipped inside while increasing the volume of his voice, "sorry for intruding." The auburn-haired male slipped out of his shoes and padded into the hallway in hopes to catch sight of Hayashi, still alive and well.

 

When no one was seen in the living room, he stepped into the kitchen and gasped. The scene which greeted him was not pretty. There was blood everywhere, particularly where the gauntly-looking male was lying on the floor. There were so many wounds on the man's skin, some old while some new but what made him sprang into action was the knife currently pointed at the other's neck.

 

Without a second thought, he lunged for the knife, knocking it out of Hayashi's hand before grabbing both of the other male's wrists in a tight grip. "Snap out of it!" He shrieked, his eyes burning fiercely as he moved to sit on the brown-haired man's torso to prevent him from escaping or reaching for another weapon to use for the purpose of stabbing himself. No, this man was not allowed to die. No one should take their own lives away.

 

"You will live," he breathed out, his gaze not wavering. Yasahiro shifted a little to press both wrists under his left hand so that he could pull out his cellphone to dial for an ambulance. It was no easy job because Hayashi was obviously bigger than he is and should be stronger. But he was weakened from the blood loss.

 

After calling the ambulance, he faced Hayashi with a gentle smile. "I will clean your wounds while we talk, okay? And don't you dare move." He tried to keep his voice as less threatening as possible to soothe the other but he had to make sure that Hayashi would not do anything stupid while in his presence.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Jurou's eyes shot open at the sound of somebody's voice. Crap... No, the real horror was when he recognized the word. His hands begun shaking again and just a moment before he pushed the knife through his neck, the object was gone. Instead, there was something heavy on his chest, while his hands were held above his head. He couldn't do anything right, not even kill himself!

 

As his eyes opened, he was greeted with a sigh of a person whose features he could still recognize. Tears burned his eyes as he hiccuped, laying completely limp on the kitchen floor. He had the muscles to push Yasahiro off, but he had absolutely no motivation to. He'd hurt this man enough before, now he wouldn't dare lay a finger on him. If anything, he would protect him at all costs.

 

"Why would you help me?.." He managed to get out, choking on the air he desperately sucked into his lungs. The brunet turned his gaze away, as if he was ashamed to even look at the one helping him. He was, in a way. Still, he nodded slightly when he was told that Yasahiro would clean his wounds. Now the knife was too far for him to reach, and he couldn't think of any way to commit suicide. For the time being, he wouldn't do anything.

 

In the hospital, however, there were plenty of ways to kill oneself. If his hands weren't tied to the bedposts, he could just find an empty syringe and push air into his veins. He would die, that wasn't even questionable. Although, since he was suicidal, he probably wouldn't be left alone.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

The question surprised Yasahiro and he was left pondering the reason as to why he would help his past bully. Why indeed. Why would he help someone who had caused him misery and trouble during his high school years which was supposed to be filled with happy memories with his friends. But no, this man had made his life hell and caused him to hate school life.

 

However, in a way, this man was what drove him to take up psychology so that he could understand people and how the mind works. And it was because of what happened that he wanted to work at the suicide helpline center. The auburn-haired wanted to help this poor man to recover partly due to selfish reasons, to give himself closure. And it was partly his job to help suicidal people.

 

When Hayashi looked like he would obey his command to not move, he went to rummage through the other's cupboard for the first aid kit. It was found in the bathroom and he pulled it out before laying it by the man's side. Meticulously, he wiped the fresh blood pouring from the largest wound with a wet dish cloth before placing several gauze over it. Using the elastic bandage, he wrapped it around the gash to prevent any infection from spreading. It took him some time to clean the rest of the wounds and by the time he had half of them bandaged, the ambulance has arrived.

 

The paramedics guided Hayashi away while one of them started questioning Yasahiro as to what happened. There were not much information he could give but he answered them to the best of his capabilities. He followed them into the ambulance and watched as they tended to Hayashi. He was there purely to offer the man as much comfort as he could although judging from the reaction he received earlier, he doubted any comfort was given from his side.

 

They arrived at the closest hospital and the doctors rushed to Hayashi's side. Yasahiro stood at a corner nervously, afraid that he might intrude their work. However, he was genuinely worried for his past bully. He had lost so much blood. There might even be infection already. What if he get pneumonia or sepsis or whatever horrible things that happen to people with open wounds which were left untended for a long period of time?

 

Once more, he followed as the doctors admitted Hayashi into a ward. One of the senior doctors smiled reassuringly at Yasahiro and asked whether he was his sibling. The auburn-haired male shook his head and answered, "No, I'm not. I'm just a friend of his." Friend was far from it but he was not about to share their past relationship with a stranger even if the other was a doctor.

 

Yasahiro waited by Hayashi's side, watching the man while the doctors and nurses cleared out silently. A psychiatrist will be sent to the single-bedded ward they were in another few minutes as she tended to another patient, the senior doctor had said. Meanwhile, they were left alone with an awkward silence stretching between them.

 

"So,..." Yasahiro racked his brain for something to say. Anything at all. "How are you feeling?" He winced as he asked the question. Really? Obviously, the man must not be feeling good to be rushed into a hospital like that.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

His question was unanswered and he was left in silence. There was no reason for him to move. The man just stared up at the ceiling, following the ceiling fan rotating lazily. It hypnotized him, calmed him down bit by bit. The repetition was relaxing, even. He wouldn't mind to live his life if it was simple, without any surprises. If he knew it would just go on as always, without anything bad happening, he would continue living.

 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Yasahiro came back to take care of his wounds. Jurou just laid there, letting him do whatever he thought was necessary. The hands on his skin felt warm... He liked that. In a few days, he barely had any human contact. This, honestly, was actually pretty good. If it wasn't for the situation, he would want more of this touch. Right now, although it felt good, he wasn't sure if he wanted it so much.

 

Those hands were soon gone from his skin, but others replaced them. These hands didn't feel good. The gloves were the thing that ruined the feeling. Still, Jurou didn't resist the help. Not yet, at least. As he was carried off to the ambulance, he continued to stare up into the sky. He was so close to killing himself, but he didn't know if he wanted to know where people went after death. Was there anything after life?

 

He realized he was taken to the hospital only when he was laying in the bed. All the events had just blurred into one mess. At first, there were a few people in the room, but they all left. The brunet closed his eyes with a sigh parting his lips before a voice reached his ears. The voice.

 

"Why are you here?" He asked, his hands clenching into fists. His hand hurt, even if it was bandaged. "I don't understand. You should hate me." Jurou added, squeezing his eyes shut tighter when he felt the familiar burning. He didn't want to cry again. He didn't have the right to, not in front of this man.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Instead of answering his question, it seemed like Hayashi was more interested in the reason as to why Yasahiro was here. The auburn-haired male approached the other silently, taking a seat on the chair placed at the left side of the bed. The chair creaked, filling the silence of the ward as Yasahiro thought of an answer.

 

"I don't hate you," he whispered slowly, his blue eyes gazing into Hayashi's chocolate ones. The statement was true. After so many years and after watching the other bled out on his kitchen floor and then hospitalised, he found himself incapable of hating Hayashi anymore. He reached a hand out to brush the short brown tresses on Hayashi's head and smiled sadly at him. What possessed him to do so as if they were close, he had no idea. However, what he knew is that Hayashi deserved some support from him in the form of human contact. As a person who loves physical contact, not only during intimacy, Yasahiro liked to touch and be touched a lot. And if Hayashi did not want his hand there, he could always push Yasahiro away or tell him to remove his fingers.

 

"I don't hate you," he repeated, this time louder. "You did bad things to me but that's all in the past now. I believe that you have changed since then because I have too. I wish to help you." His fingers continued to caress Hayashi's hair. It felt slightly prickly due to its length but it was soft too and Yasahiro found himself liking it.

 

"You don't have to accept it, especially from someone like me but I would really appreciate it if you would allow me this. Allow me to help you get better." If it were his lover on the bed, Yasahiro would take his hand in his and kiss the person's wrist to show him how much he was loved and how much Yasahiro would love to help them get better. But Hayashi was no lover to him. The sudden thought that the other could be, his boyfriend that is, if things progress well enough, startled Yasahiro and he almost jerked his hand away. He should not be thinking that way. It was highly inappropriate. And they do no have feelings for each other. It was if God sent that thought to torment him so, telling him to get a companion already.

 

Closing his eyes, Yasahiro prayed to God to give him strength. The most important thing right now is to help Hayashi recover. Not the lack of a lover in his life.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Jurou's eyes seemed empty, although he didn't resist the gaze form Yasahiro's. The man tensed up and closed his eyes, hiding the brown orbs under his eyelids when a hand was placed on his head. He was expecting a hit, a slap, anything other than this... Petting. Sure, it felt nice, but it was so unexpected, he actually felt shocked.

 

"I..." He just didn't find any words to express what he wanted to say. No, perhaps he just didn't know what he wanted to say. He didn't know, that was how he felt. Finally giving up, Jurou just let out a quiet sigh and opened his eyes again, easing into the touch little by little. The brunet slowly felt the tenseness leaving his body, his muscles relaxing with each second that passed.

 

"I'm sorry." Jurou muttered out, looking up at the other. "I'm sorry for all that crap I... I'm just sorry." He murmured under his nose, his hands clenching into fists for a few moments as he took in a deep breath. No, he used to be an asshole so bad, a sorry wouldn't help. "How-... How can I make it up to you?" The brunet asked suddenly, looking up with pleading eyes.

 

For the moment, Yasahiro was more important than himself. Yasahiro, who he used as a way to let out all the rage, who he hurt in all ways possible... Who saved his life, even after all that. And just because he thought Jurou had changed. How could he be sure? Maybe underneath, he was still the same. He tried really hard not to be that way anymore, but sometimes he wasn't so sure. Sometimes he just felt like he was still the same jerk as he was in high school.

 

Jurou stared out the window, leaning his head back against the pillow again. The fact that he tried to kill himself somehow didn't seem strange, or even special in any way. He just did, and... He would just try again. There was no need to think too much about it.

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

Yasahiro accepted Hayashi's apology with a small smile. So broken, this man. Once a strong man, if he had not bullied the auburn-haired male in the past, he would have admired this person for his physique. He had always wanted a body like Hayashi's. Strong and gives off the aura of 'fuck with me and you're dead'. A number of students were afraid of Hayashi during their high school years while some who were either brave or had similar built as Hayashi joined him.

 

"You can make it up to me by allowing me to help you get better until you don't feel like harming yourself," the blue-eyed man said easily. He had had enough of people hurting around him regardless whether they were hit by others or harmed by themselves. The image of a bloody Hayashi on his kitchen floor would haunt his dreams forever. He wished to create new memories with this person, better ones to replace the horrible ones of the past.

 

When Hayashi started staring out of the window, Yasahiro removed his hand from the other's head, unsure whether his touch was indeed unwelcomed. It hurt because he only wanted to provide comfort to this man. However, his hurt was nothing when compared to Hayashi's wounds. He was sure the other's wounds hurt more because it cut skin and spilled blood whereas he only felt hurt, only a feeling that was not driven by physical wounds but by emotions only.

 

Shoving his emotions away, he spoke once more, "Hey Hayashi, promise me not to hurt yourself again?" It was not like he could stay in the hospital for 24 hours. He glanced at his watch. He could stay for another hour or so before dinner time. Maybe he should contact Hayashi's parents and let them know what was going on as well? They deserved to know that their son was hospitalised and perhaps they would want to visit.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Jurou's eyes watered when Yasahiro replied to his question. He bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood as he tried to keep himself from crying. Not in front of him, not in front of him, he kept repeating to himself. How could this guy still want to help him, he just couldn't understand. If it was him, he probably would've left his ex-bully to bleed out and die. He would hate the man who did all that for the rest of his life! But Yasahiro... He was so pure. How, he just couldn't comprehend.

 

Finally, he nodded slightly. If this was what would make Yasahiro happy, he could at least try. Soon enough the comforting touch on his head was gone and he felt... Cold? Lonely? He wasn't sure, but it wasn't a good feeling. The brunet looked away from the window, but avoided the other's eyes. Whenever he looked at them, he felt so guilty. He made the other's life an absolute hell... And back then, he didn't feel even the least bit bad about it. No, back then it made him feel good. The power, the fear he inflicted, the way to get rid of the stress... The way to hurt someone in the same way people hurt him.

 

He didn't bully just because he was a huge jerk. His parents hated him - his father was a sot who used him as a punching bag when he felt like it. Sometimes he would show up to school all bruised up and blame it on a fight. A "fight" with his father was just him getting kicked around with insults thrown at his face. He never dared fight back, he didn't even know why.

 

It took him a while to realize he was asked a question. "I... No." Jurou muttered out, head hanging down in shame. He was pathetic. He couldn't even live, what good was he? The man bit down on his lip harshly, this time actually drawing blood. He squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging into his palm and bandages. "I don't really matter anyway, you know... I'm one man, just one fucking life. No one would care too much if I died... Even if they did, they'd just forget in a while. I'm no one important."

[Yu_Kanda_YK]

When the person lying on the bed nodded to what he said, he was genuinely happy. Happy that he was allowed to help. He really does love helping people like Hayashi because it was nice to see people getting better. And to be allowed to be close to his high school bully, it terrified him at first. What if the past events started haunting him again? But he refused to ignore the man just because of this petty reason. He is a better man now and he would like to help, even if the other had done wrong to him.

 

Hayashi looking away from him caused his smile to slip a little. Why was this man so broken? Again, he questioned himself this but there was no answer. It was just so sad.

 

The man's 'No' startled him but he looked on calmly at the other. It would not do good to let him know that he was surprised by this. But what did he expect really, for someone to just nod along to what he said and followed him like a loyal dog? That would be too easy. But whatever Hayashi said later on made Yasahiro stood up from his chair.

 

He looked into the other's eyes, trying to convey the love for humanity that he has. While there was no love yet for this man but Yasahiro was sure he would be able to learn to love his ex-bully as any human was capable to doing, to love another.

 

"I would care," he gritted his teeth as he said this. "Just one life? One life is as significant as any other. Your life is significant, even if you don't know it, Hayashi. And I would not forget. I promised you I would not forget and I care. So live. If not for yourself, for me. Do you understand?" He might have this a little too strongly but he wanted Hayashi to understand that he mattered.