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Silence flooded the room. Tension filling the air they exhaled. Oliver lay on the bed, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. His vision barely able to make out a few dark spots of dirt. He blinked. It hurt. He had never thought even something as simple as that would cause him pain.
His body was limp. He didn't care about his head hurting, or his empty stomach, or his cold fingers. He had gotten used to all that. There was no use in crying anymore, especially if there was no one to offer solace while doing so. It was difficult to even know if he was still alive.
Alive.
"Fukase?" He uttered the name softly, his voice raspy from days of silence. It was the first time he'd spoken in what felt like an eternity.. “Are you there?"
No response was given, but Oliver knew the truth. He could sense Fukase's presence— the stillness of his form, the subtle rise and fall of his breaths, the warmth of the body. He was there with him, alive.
Well, maybe “alive” was not the right word to use, but instead just “not dead” yet.
Their time in that suffocating darkness and the constant ache in their bodies served as confirmation that they had clearly been abandoned. She was no longer interested in them. Not since that day.
She had extinguished the light in them. They no longer protested at her orders or whined when she played with them. They wouldn’t either say “thank you” whenever she feeded them neither cry whenever she pressed hard on their skin to bruise them. They wouldn't even give her those fake smiles she loved so much. They would just… let her do whatever she wanted.
She broke them. And that was really boring for her.
Now they were left to rot in that room. She wouldn't even turn on the lights anymore, and not to even mention the food or any other needs.
For a moment Oliver wondered if that is how Fukase felt before they met. Having no one there to talk to. Laying there on bed, just waiting for anything to happen while you have nothing on your mind except thinking if you will ever see the sun again, or eat a meal, or take a bath or change clothes. Anything.
Was that why they had gotten so attached to each other? To try and fill that void of not only loneliness but also human decency? If that were the case, why was Fukase acting like Oliver didn’t exist anymore? After everything they had been through, all the conversations they shared and the sacrifices they made for each other. Why? Did Fukase hate him?
That sole thought sent a sharp pang through Oliver's heart. After all, it wouldn't be too crazy to think that might be the case. This whole time during their captivity Oliver did nothing but just cry and whine and get angry at the slightest discomfort, and Fukase always tried to help him with the little resources they had and Oliver never once thanked him. He had been nothing but a burden to Fukase from the moment he was brought there.
"I'm sorry, for everything"
Oliver found himself saying. It slipped from his lips almost instinctively, but the regret he felt quickly faded. He wanted Fukase to know how he was feeling before it was too late to say it. Unsurprisingly, there was no response again. It had been like that for too long. Oliver felt his eyes burning but he didn't want to cry, no more.
"I'm sorry for always crying," Oliver continued. his voice on the verge of tears.He swallowed hard, trying to soothe the pain of his throat. "And for being a burden to you." he spoke with genuine sincerity, expressing whatever thoughts just came to his mind as simple as it could be.
Fukase was taken aback. The urgency to turn around and tell Oliver that he never once thought of him as that was threatening him to consume him whole. He held his breath and firmly shut his eyes.
Oliver sniffled. The pain of avoidance stabbing his chest once more. Why was he even trying? Was it worthy at all to try and have a conversation with Fukase? Fukase was the one who brought him there and he hated him for that. Then, why did it hurt so much to have Fukase not responding to him? Why did he want him back? Did Oliver even have the right to feel this terrible regarding Fukase’s behavior even though in the past Oliver was the one who claimed he hated him?
“I miss you,”
If Fukase was not going to say anything back, he might as well hear everything Oliver had to say. It burned. It hurt more than any small flame of a candle touching his bare skin as she would have them do as punishment. This was way worse. Fukase clenched his fists, almost hurting himself. He didn’t deserve being missed, and certainly Oliver didn't deserve missing Fukase. He didn't deserve Fukase at all. Oliver deserved the sky and the grass and the fresh air and the chirping birds and warm food and clean clothes and people to take care of him with real, pure love, not the “love” she claimed to give them.
Why did it have to be like this? If only that one day…
If only they…
"I wish we never met."
Yeah. That was something Fukase could agree on. Many times he had wished he never encountered Oliver that day and certainly many times he had wished Oliver wasn’t there, suffering this meaningless and cruel punishment with him.
"No," Oliver suddenly pronounced, almost interrupting himself and Fukase’s thoughts, then continued, slowly, "I wish we had met in a better place, at a better time."
How sick did Oliver need to be that he would not even wish for freedom anymore? He just wanted Fukase back. It made him feel so pathetic that he would rely so much on Fukase, but he couldn't help it.
"I'm sorry too."
A single tear fell off Oliver’s cheek. It had been so long since the last time he heard Fukase’s voice and yet it still sounded so familiar to him. Although, he still did not feel happy as he thought he would. Only more questions raised deep within him.
"Do you hate me?," He asked, genuinely intrigued. He kept staring at the wall as if strangely that were to help him not burst into tears right there.
"I don't." Despite how low Fukase pronounced that, it was still loud and clear to Oliver’s ears.
"Then, why have you been ignoring me?"
Fukase was able to make out the sorrowful tone combined with a hint of anger as Oliver questioned.
"You don't get it?," If it wasn't for his dry throat, Fukase’s voice would have been louder. "I was supposed to take care of you, and I—" He stopped abruptly, feeling as if he might choke on his own words. Several breaths followed by an initial abrupt gasp helped him calm down as the memories of that horrible day kept projecting in his mind. Was he really going to tell Oliver? Did he really need to? He felt Oliver slightly shifting his body towards him as if he wanted to listen to what he was about to say. The pressure was on.
“I hurt you.”
Now Fukase was the one who was on the verge of tears, but summoned all his will and strength to keep them imprisoned. He wished his body could just stop functioning right there and just die. He couldn't bear the weight of the guilt on his shoulders for everything he had done to Oliver, the person he was so devoted to protect and failed miserably.
Once more, Oliver shifted his body, slowly and gently as his body let him, laying on his back and turning his head towards Fukase’s red hair despite the darkness surrounding them not allowing him to see it clearly. Fukase’s body tensed and his lower lip quivered, afraid of what might happen next.
"But,” The softness in Oliver's voice persisted as he continued. “You were hurt too, weren't you?"
No.
Fukase was shocked by the naivety in Oliver's statement. Did Oliver genuinely believe that the pain Fukase had endured was equal to what he himself had suffered?
Yes. Fukase was hurt, but in a totally different way. It hurt to know that he had scared Oliver with something so unknown yet intimate. It hurt to know that he betrayed Oliver’s trust. It hurt to know that he caused that pain to Oliver. But all that mental pain was probably not even close to the physical pain Oliver went through. The image of Oliver crying and trembling beneath him back then haunted him every night and served as a reminder of what he had done. He couldn't and wouldn’t forgive himself and definitely Oliver shouldn't either, but Fukase knew that, judging from Oliver’s constant questions implying that he still cared about their bond, Oliver was a few moments away from forgiving him.
No. Fukase wanted to stop him. But saying so would mean Oliver would continue asking more and more questions to get to the bottom of everything, and maybe, even realize that Fukase in fact, enjoyed what he did to his body.
A loud sound was heard from outside the room.
Oliver yelped as Fukase almost jumped to then slightly lift his upper body from the bed in alert, trying to figure out what that was. He then suddenly felt Oliver’s thin arms quickly and firmly wrapping around him in a desperate hold from behind.
"What is that?" Oliver stressed as if he somehow expected Fukase to know the answer.
Fukase reached with the intention of taking Oliver’s hands off him, but the feeling of his small, cold and trembling form awakened feelings that he seemed to have forgotten. For how long had he been denying Oliver the comfort he desperately needed? How many times did he hear Oliver softly weeping in the night and he pretended to be asleep? Or many times did Oliver call his name and he ignored it?
The realization of his cruel act hit him like a bucket of cold water. He might be a horrible person but after all, he was everything Oliver had. Oliver needed him and this was not the time to push him away, he tightened his grip on Oliver's hand, silently assuring him of his presence.
“Fukase?” Oliver whispered, his gaze shifting over Fukase's shoulder, curious about the sudden change in his demeanor. Yet before he could ask any more questions, Fukase cautioned him in a hushed tone.
"Shh, quiet."
Oliver finally allowed himself to sob and tightened his hold, choosing to rely on Fukase one more time, letting his forehead rest on Fukase’s back.
After making sure Oliver was feeling safe (or at least to an extent) Fukase then focused on what was happening, staring at the door. He was able to decipher the sound of heavy steps. Could it be that she invited someone over? But if that was the case, why were they so… rushed? It seemed like someone or rather a group of people was carelessly running around.
Another heavy sound. Did something fall?
A loud thump. What was happening? Fukase couldn't remember having something similar occurring during his captivity, or rather, his whole life. Anxiety grew inside him as the sounds became heavier and apparently were moving closer towards them, but he tried to keep his composure and not show signs of fear as Oliver needed someone strong to lean on.
His grip on Oliver’s hand remained firm as someone stood in front of their room. Fukase tensed and held his breath, preparing himself for the unknown threat.
The door opened.