Chapter Text
Goro’s childhood was marked by happiness and pain alike.
As a small child, he didn’t even know he was supposed to be troubled. With nothing else to compare it to, he thought his struggles were normal. He never had a father, but that was fine. His mother was more than enough for him. He didn’t mind the frequent hunger, since he never knew anything else. He had clothes on his back and a roof over his head; their poor quality never mattered to him.
So, yes. Despite what others may have thought, Goro was happy.
His earliest memories were simple things. He remembered afternoons spent watching Featherman with his mother; he would play pretend at being a hero while she cheered him on. He remembered sitting on the floor between his mother and her friend as they took turns winding braids into his hair. He remembered finding his mother crying, only to be distracted with tickles. He remembered dancing with her in the kitchen, holding her hands and standing on her feet as she led him to the music.
She was the most important person in his life. He loved her with his whole heart.
Many children in his neighborhood attended kindergarten, but Goro’s mother never had the money for it. She did her best to teach him what he needed to know, anyways. He had always been a smart child, so it worked for them.
Unfortunately, it meant he did not interact with other children as much as he should have. By the time he was six years old, Goro didn’t have a single friend his age.
That changed in the September of that year.
——————————
One Saturday afternoon, Goro was playing in the living room while his mother worked on lunch in the kitchen. He was in the middle of imitating explosions with his single cheap action figure when he noticed the squiggles drawn on his arm. That alone wouldn’t be particularly noteworthy, but he hadn’t drawn on himself that day. They were also on his left arm, rather than his right. He wouldn’t have drawn them, being left-handed as he was.
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed marks on his skin that he didn’t make, but he had never paid it much mind. At that moment, Goro finally realized how weird that was.
He was on his feet before he realized it, making his way into the kitchen. His mother looked up as he entered, smiling automatically at him. “Lunch isn’t ready just yet, sweetie.”
Rather than answer that, Goro thrust his left arm out for her to see. “Mama, why do I keep seeing drawings on my arm? I didn’t do them, so I don’t know why they’re there.”
Her lips parted ever so slightly as she took in the marks. She appeared to go through some kind of internal battle before giving him a strained smile. “Oh, Goro. Those are from your soulmate.”
Goro tilted his head in confusion. He’d heard the term before, but only in passing. It was one of those things grown ups talked about. It never seemed important to him. But if his mother was saying it was relevant, then...
“... What’s that mean, mama?”
She laughed softly before kneeling down in front of him to meet his gaze. “That’s someone you’re going to meet someday. Someone really good for you, who will make you happy.”
Goro’s face only pinched further in confusion. “So, like… a best friend?”
“The bestest of friends,” she confirmed. Her smile seemed more genuine, now.
He hmm’d as he considered her words. He looked down at the silly doodles on his arm. One of them looked vaguely like a cat. “... How’d it get here, though? No one’s drawn on me.”
She laughed again. “Oh, baby, they don’t need to. You see, you and your soulmate are connected. No matter how far away you are, you can always reach them. Any time you write on yourself, they can see it, and the same is true the other way around.”
“... Huh.” Goro continued to stare at his arm as his brain chewed on the information. After a moment, he looked back up to her. “So, anything I write, they can see it too?”
“Mmhm,” she nodded. “Did you want to try doing that?”
“... Right now?”
“If you want.” She looked around at the counters of the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure I have a pen somewhere in here. We should get you something non-toxic if you want to keep writing to them, but a normal pen should be fine for now.”
Goro watched her stand up to dig into a drawer. For some reason, he felt nervous. “... What do I write?”
His mother made a triumphant noise as she found what she was looking for. She turned to him and knelt back down. “You can write whatever you want, but it’d probably be good to start with something simple, like ‘hi’. Then we can see if they want to talk to you, too.”
Goro chewed on his lip as she passed him the pen. That seemed almost too simple. If this was going to be his bestest friend, he had to make a good impression, right? But then again, if they would be his bestest friend, they wouldn’t care. With that in mind, he did as she recommended and wrote a simple ‘Hi’ onto the palm of his right hand.
He gazed at it with bated breath… but nothing happened. A pout grew on his face as the seconds went on. After a minute, he looked up and found his mother gazing at him affectionately.
She seemed to understand what he was wondering without him saying anything. “Don’t worry, munchkin. I’m sure they’re just confused about it, too. Give it time.”
Goro huffed, “But I want them to reply now. ”
“I know, baby.” She reached forward to pinch him lightly on the cheek. “How about you help me finish up lunch? That way, time will pass more quickly for you.”
Goro scrunched his face up and stuck his tongue out in response to the pinch. It got her to let go with another laugh. She pressed a kiss to the spot on his cheek before standing up. “Come on, Goro. Why don’t you help me set the table? I’m almost done with the food.”
He was still unhappy about having to wait for his soulmate, but he set those feelings aside. His mother wanted him to help, so he would.
Later, as the two sat to eat, Goro realized something. He’d never once seen his mother with any writing on her arms. Did she not have a soulmate? If not, then why? Was it not something that everyone had? Was he special for it?
He finished chewing and swallowing his bite of food (Mama always told him not to speak with his mouth full), then asked, “Mama, do you have a soulmate, too?”
For exactly one moment, her expression splintered. Goro watched as pure pain overtook her face. She quickly covered it back up with a strained smile, but the damage was already done. She answered, “Oh, don’t worry about that, baby.”
Her words did nothing to reassure the sudden alarm and guilt he felt. He immediately regretted asking her, though he had no idea why. He ducked his head and mumbled, “Okay…”
Whatever that was, it put a damper on his excitement about his own soulmate. His mother did her best to move conversation on, though. After a while, the incident was pushed to the back of his mind.
Later that day, after his mother had left for work, Goro’s soulmate finally replied.
He was in the middle of watching TV when he felt a strange tingle on his left hand. He absentmindedly scratched at it, but the feeling didn’t go away. He looked down in confusion, only to find letters forming out of nowhere.
He watched in awe as words were etched onto his skin. They appeared slowly, one line at a time, as if the writer was being very careful. Goro felt a bit confused when the lines finally stopped and read, ‘Are you a girl?’
What...?
While Goro didn’t understand why that was the first thing his soulmate wrote, he was quick to find a pen and reply. He wrote onto his right hand, ‘No. Why?’
Thankfully, this time it took much less time for his soulmate to respond. Again, the writing was slow and deliberate as it spelled out, ‘Dad says u r a girl, becus your my soulmate. I think he’s dumb.’
The words were quickly taking up the entirety of Goro’s left palm, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He was staring incredulously at the wrong spelling and bad handwriting. What kind of soulmate of his would be so awful at writing?
He decided to disregard it for now and wrote his reply, ‘Too bad for him, I’m a boy. You?’
Goro didn’t know why it mattered. He supposed he could be friends with a girl, but he’d prefer a boy. How was he supposed to be bestest friends with a girl? They always just made fun of him at the park.
His soulmate’s words started trailing down his arm as they replied, ‘Same! My name is Akira.’
The name was written much more carefully than the other words, obviously well practiced. Goro stared at it, committing the lines to memory.
After a moment, more words appeared on his arm. ‘I’m glad your a boy.’
That made two of them. Goro was still a little hung up on the bad writing, but a smile grew on his face anyways. He wrote his reply, letting the words trail onto his arm by the end of it. ‘Me too. My name is Goro. My mom says you’ll be my bestest friend. Will you?’
He watched with bated breath until the next words appeared. ‘Yes! I’d luv to Goro.’
Akira wrote Goro’s name with the same deliberate care as his own. For some reason, this made the happiness in his heart swell.
Akira.
A grin spread across Goro’s face as he moved to reply again to his first friend, his bestest friend.
The rest of the evening was spent like this, with the two of them writing and writing, up their arms and down their legs, until there was no more room to write.
Goro learned many things about the other boy. He turned five not too long ago, making him about a year and three months younger than Goro (it explained why his writing was so bad). He lived with his dad, mom, and two older sisters in Ueda. He liked playing football, though his sisters were much better than him at it. He’d only seen a few episodes of Featherman, but he promised to watch more upon learning that Goro loved the show.
Goro could tell Akira was getting tired by the end of it. His handwriting, which was awful to start with, kept getting worse and worse. By the time they reached their ankles, the words were nearly unreadable. It was for the best, probably. Goro would need to go to bed soon.
The two made promises to keep writing, and that was that.
——————————
After his mother came home to find Goro asleep on the couch with writing all over his skin, she worked to save up for a special pen for him. She told him his soulmate probably had one, which was why his writing faded so much faster than Goro’s did. If he had the special pen, it would be all the easier to continue talking. Not only that, but it would be better for his skin, too.
His mother told him it wasn’t too expensive, but she just didn’t have much money to spare for things other than food. She could tell it was important to him, though, so she worked to scrounge up the necessary money. After several days, she finally came home with one.
It was nearly the best gift ever, second only to the Featherman T-shirt he got for his last birthday. With it, he could talk to his soulmate even more, and talk he did.
The days passed into weeks, which passed into months, which passed into years. The two boys kept in constant contact, talking about their daily lives, their hopes and fears, and whatever else happened to be on their minds. Akira cheered Goro on when he started elementary school the following spring, then comforted him when the other children unanimously rejected him for being the ratty son of a single mother.
‘They don’t know what their missing,’ Akira told him. It made the rejection sting a bit less.
On Goro’s seventh birthday, Akira joyfully wrote out the happy birthday song to make up for the fact that he couldn’t sing it. On that day, the boys wished more than ever that they could see each other in person.
Akira confided in Goro about how he didn’t feel like his parents cared about him, since he wasn’t smart and obedient like his sisters. Goro reassured him that his rebelliousness made him more likable.
In return, Goro shared his worries about his mother. She always worked late and sometimes brought strange men home, sending him to the bathhouse every time. When she was home, he would often find her crying. There wasn’t anything Akira could do to make it better, so he always just wrote, ‘I’m here for you.’
Goro eventually learned about his mother after finding her crying one night. In her tears, she told him that her soulmate died when she was young. She was left without her fated partner, and she spiraled. She told him about the handsome man that found her barely out of school and promised to make up for her loss. She told him about the man’s lies and how he abandoned her after she became pregnant.
It was the first time she’d truly told him about his father. He’d just accepted that he never had one, but to find out that he did, and the man just never bothered to care… It filled him with a hatred so thick he felt like he could choke on it. The feeling was foreign to his little heart.
Shido Masayoshi. Goro didn’t know the man, but he loathed him with every scrap of his being for what he did to his mother.
Goro shared with Akira only a little bit of what he learned. He told him he learned that his mother’s soulmate died when she was young, so his father wasn’t her soulmate. He told him the man abandoned her before Goro was even born. He didn’t tell him his name.
He confessed to hating what he was. Children born to non-soulmate pairs were thought to be unlucky, and he couldn’t help but think so too. How could his existence be good when he found his mother crying what felt like every other day?
Akira seemed distraught to hear this from him. He reassured him that he was good. What brought him about wasn’t good, but he was. He was Akira’s bestest friend.
If only Goro could bring himself to believe him.
Time continued on. The two celebrated Akira’s sixth birthday like they celebrated Goro’s seventh. Akira was jealous that Goro was a year older than him and already in elementary school. Goro reassured him that school really wasn’t that great.
The following year, Goro started his second year while Akira started his first. It took only a few days for Akira to write, ‘you’re right. School sucks.’
Akira didn’t have the same problems Goro did with making friends, however. Goro pretended it didn’t bother him, but Akira could somehow tell that it did. Akira reassured him that no matter how many friends he may have, Goro would always be the most important. They were bestest friends, after all.
It did serve to temper the burning jealousy in Goro’s heart.
Goro’s eighth birthday passed, as did Akira’s seventh. Schooling did amazing things for Akira’s spelling and handwriting, to Goro’s relief. As much as he loved the boy, his handwriting had always been annoying.
Life continued as normal, up until that November.
——————————
It was a chilly Monday, and Goro’s mother was late in picking him up from school. It had never happened before, so he didn’t know what to do. He waited for an entire hour before deciding to just walk home by himself.
By the time he got home, his feet ached and his teeth were chattering. When he let himself in, he was surprised to find the living areas empty. He removed his shoes and padded cautiously inside.
He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but something about the silence of the apartment unnerved him. Had his mother left for work early without telling him? What other explanation could there be?
After looking around the empty living areas, Goro realized the light was on behind the shut bathroom door, visible in a strip underneath. Despite the light, it was quiet inside.
What was going on? This had never happened before. Goro wasn’t sure why, but it scared him.
He couldn’t leave it alone, though. Swallowing his fear, he approached the bathroom door. He knocked on it and called out, “Mom?”
No answer. He strained his ears for any little noise, any intake of breath or shifting of clothes… but there was nothing. It was utterly silent.
Maybe she just accidentally left the light on. Maybe she stepped out to go to the store. Maybe she just forgot to pick Goro up, even though she had never done that before.
Maybe, maybe, maybe -
He had to check.
Goro turned the handle with his little hand and was surprised to find it unlocked. The door swung open onto a scene that he instantly wanted to run from.
Red. Everywhere he looked, it was red. And in the center of the red was his mother. She was slumped against the side of the tub, one arm submerged in the still, red water. The other hung down at her side. It seemed to be the origin of the red on the floor.
Red. Blood red.
Goro’s body seemed to move on its own. He dropped to his knees in front of her, ignoring the sickening splash of the impact. He reached for her face and found it cold beneath his palms. He moved to check her pulse with trembling fingers, just like he’d seen in movies.
Nothing. There was nothing.
Horror was mounting in his heart, but his mind was blank. He sat back, letting his arms drop to his sides. His fingers fell into the cold blood. His eyes remained trained on his mother’s pale face, her dry lips.
Her eyes were hauntingly vacant.
Goro felt lightheaded. He continued to stare at her. He took in the bloody knife on the floor, the laceration trailing up the inside of her visible wrist. The blood on the wound had clotted. It looked grisly.
He had no idea how long it was that he sat there, staring. The blood seeped into the fabric of his pants and slowly dried there. The blood beneath his fingers grew sticky. His knees started to hurt from how long he sat there, but he still did not move.
A familiar tingle on his left arm broke his daze. He knew what it was, knew Akira had written to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. No, he had to deal with this. He didn’t know what to do, but the adults would. They would know what to do.
Goro finally, finally got up. He pushed himself to his feet, coating his palms with red in the process. He wobbled as he stood. It took a few moments to get his legs to work again, then he was walking out of the bathroom. His socks left bloody smears on the floor as he went.
He entered the kitchen. The phone was just within his reach on the counter. He picked it up with one bloody hand and numbly dialed 119, as he’d been told to do for emergencies. He shared with the operator that he’d found his mother in a pool of her own blood. She was dead, and he didn’t know what to do.
They promised to send people over, so Goro hung up. He slowly slid down to sit with his back against the cabinet, legs sprawled out in front of him. In the time that he’d been in the bathroom, it had grown dark. The only light in the room was what seeped out of the bathroom and what filtered in from the lamplight outside.
Another tingle on his arm reminded Goro that Akira had written to him. There was just enough light from outside for him to make out the words on his arm.
The first note read, ‘Rei told me today that Black Condor is dumb, can you believe her?’ The next note, presumably the newest, asked, ‘Did you fall asleep early?’
Goro stared at them vacantly. Some part of him wanted to respond so that Akira wouldn’t worry, but his body wouldn’t move. What would he have even said? Nothing felt real. He didn’t think he’d be able to form words.
His hands were still covered in blood.
In time, the emergency services arrived. They whisked him away to be cleaned up and treated for shock. He didn’t see his mother again.
——————————
The next few days were a blur. Goro didn’t cry, not even once. He was told to pack a bag of his possessions. Without his mother, he couldn’t stay there anymore. He easily fit everything into a single suitcase. It wasn’t like he’d ever owned many clothes.
He was sent to live in an institution. He was thrown into the unfamiliar environment without support. There were too few adults for the many children there. Why would anyone care about the eerily silent boy?
The other children were quick to put Goro in his place. At eight years old, he was vulnerable to the older kids. He didn’t care, though. He didn’t fight back.
As the days passed, Goro’s arm kept tingling. For the first day, Akira left Goro mostly alone, just writing to him in the evening to ask if he was okay. After that, his notes got more desperate, more afraid, as Goro continued to not respond.
Goro didn’t know why he never responded. He read each message, each plea for a response, with dull eyes. Akira would know he wasn’t dead, at least. Soulmates were supposed to be able to tell when that happened. Maybe that was why he didn’t feel the need to respond.
On his sixth day at the institution, seven days after his mother’s death, something changed. It was brief, an inconsequential mention of his mother’s favorite food. But for some reason, something inside of him just… snapped.
He was in tears before he even realized it was happening. The kids around him voiced their confusion, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He snatched a pen from a nearby table and ran outside as fast as his legs would carry him. He didn’t know the area, but that didn’t matter. He just needed to find somewhere to be alone.
It was difficult to see through his tears by the time he found the hollow bush to hide in. He collapsed inside and quickly curled up into a ball. It was like all the pain, grief, and despair from the past week were cascading onto him all at once. He couldn’t think past the sobs that shook him to his core.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, he began looking over the messages from Akira that remained on his arm. The pleas that he’d felt nothing for before now made him feel guilty. Akira was so, so worried. Goro had done nothing to alleviate that.
He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, with shaking fingers, Goro scrawled out on his hand, ‘my mom is dead’.
He only had to wait a minute for Akira’s rushed reply to arrive. He looked down at his arm as soon as he felt the familiar tingle. ‘what?! what happened? are you okay?’
Akira’s handwriting was worse than normal. Some part of Goro wanted to make fun of him for it, but the hint of amusement was drowned out by his despair.
He simply wrote, ‘no’. He wasn’t okay. But after a moment, he added, ‘I found her in a pool of her own blood. she killed herself’.
It took longer for Akira to reply, this time. Goro shut his eyes and curled up tighter, shivering at the cold air against his skin. The contact with Akira, however brief, served to temper the surge of despair. His tears continued to run, but his sobs dwindled into hiccups. He just felt miserable.
Once he felt the tingle again, he looked down to watch Akira’s reply. ‘that’s… awful. I’m so sorry, Goro.’ Goro huffed a bitter laugh. He was sorry, too.
Akira continued, ‘where are you right now?’
With a wry smile, Goro wrote back, ‘right now? in a bush’.
‘a bush? why are you in a bush?’
Goro sighed. ‘I don’t know. everything just hit me all at once. I ran outside so I could be alone.’ He paused, then wrote, ‘it’s cold.’
Akira took a moment to respond, likely processing the words. He wrote slowly, ‘can you go inside for me? I’ll keep writing to you if you want, but you need to go inside. you need to get warm.’
‘I don’t want to.’ Goro took a shuddered breath. ‘ I don’t know them. I don’t know any of them. They don’t know me. They don’t care about me. They’re not’ Goro hesitated as he realized what he was going to write. He bit back a whine of despair as he finished, ‘my mom.’
Everything hurt. His chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself. He found himself wishing for the numbness of the past week. He hadn’t felt alive, but at least there hadn’t been any pain. Anything would be better than this.
Akira’s reply distracted him. ‘I know. I know, Goro, and I’m sorry, but please. Please go inside. For me?’
With the previous messages, they were running out of room on Goro’s left arm. He didn’t know what he’d do when they did. They couldn’t move to other body parts unless he was inside. He didn’t want Akira to stop writing.
So Goro just wrote, simply, ‘okay’.
He reluctantly pushed himself up on trembling limbs. By the time he emerged from the bush, he was covered in leaves, dirt, and little scratches. He found he didn’t care.
He hugged himself as he trudged back to the orphanage. As it turned out, the trip took a lot longer when he wasn’t running. It left him with far too much time to think. His arm tingled once, but he didn’t bother looking.
When he finally reached the building, it was as if he’d never left. In the middle of the day, after school, they didn’t care much about where everyone was. Children milled about, chatting and playing. No one reacted to his reappearance. That was probably for the best.
Goro made his way into one of the bathrooms and locked himself into a stall. It was the closest he could get to privacy, here. He lowered the toilet’s lid and sat down, then finally looked at his arm.
‘Let me know when you’re inside.’
Goro was miserable, but at least one person still cared about him. For some reason, the knowledge made his breath hitch as more tears started to flow. He sniffled and uselessly wiped his cheeks with his hand, then wrote, ‘I’m inside. In a bathroom, now.’
Akira obviously had been waiting for him, because it didn’t take him long to reply. Due to the lack of room on their left arms, Akira started writing on his knee. Goro lifted his knee up and rolled his pant leg out of the way to read, ‘In the bathroom? Why?’
There was still room on Goro’s right arm, so he continued writing there. ‘There’s nowhere else I can be alone. Other than outside. I don’t want to see anyone right now.’ He took another shuddered breath. ‘I can’t stop crying.’
‘Goro…’
He sniffled again. He pulled his right knee up and leaned his head against it, watching his left for Akira’s writing. The boy wrote slowly, carefully. Goro realized today’s messages were likely the most careful he’d ever seen Akira write.
‘I’m sorry. I wish I could do more for you. Is there anything I can do?’
Goro paused to think, but his mind came up empty. He pulled back to write, ‘I don’t think so. There’s nothing that can fix this.’ He wiped more tears off his face before adding, ‘Knowing you’re there helps, though. I’m completely alone, otherwise.’
Akira drew a frowny face, of all things. The childishness of it brought a small smile to Goro’s face, as did the following words. ‘just imagine me hugging you, okay? I can give GREAT hugs. and they’re all yours.'
Oh, if only Akira was there. Goro shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against his knees. He imagined it, exactly as Akira told him to. He didn’t know what Akira looked like, besides the fact that he apparently had shaggy black hair. He imagined a child just a bit younger than he was, with kind eyes and wild hair. He imagined this boy wrapping him in his arms. He imagined leaning his face against his shoulder and just… existing.
The thought brought both comfort and an aching loneliness to Goro’s heart. It wasn’t anything like what the real thing would be, but… it was still nice, in a way.
A tingle on his knee made him open his eyes. ‘You okay?’
This, again. Goro smiled bitterly. Akira was just trying to show he cared, but did he really think the answer would be any different? Goro didn’t want to ignore him again, though, so he rolled up the leg of his pants to expose his right knee. There, he wrote, ‘my answer hasn’t changed.’
‘Yeah, okay... I just worry when you go quiet.’
Ah, there was the guilt again. Goro bit his lip lightly. ‘Sorry. I was just… imagining it, I guess. It’s nice, but it also makes me feel lonely. I wish you were here.’
‘Me too. I wish I could hug you for real.’
Goro sighed, letting his head hang. This back and forth didn’t solve anything. It just made the loneliness feel more pronounced.
A part of Goro felt like he didn’t deserve even this. How could he, after everything?
He wanted to ignore it, but… If anyone could help him sort out his thoughts, it was Akira. With this in mind, Goro slowly wrote, ‘Akira. Do you think this is my fault?’
‘this? what do you mean?’
Goro circled the ‘this’ in his note for emphasis before adding, ‘everything. where I am right now. why I’m here.’ He squeezed his eyes shut and dug the fingers of his free hand into his lower leg. He took a breath before taking the plunge.
‘Do you think she killed herself because of me?’
The seconds that ticked past were agonizing. Goro watched his left leg with bated breath, digging his nails harder in his leg with each passing second. Finally, Akira wrote, ‘Goro, why would you even THINK that? why would it be your fault?’
Goro let out his breath in a whoosh. His eyebrows furrowed as he wrote, ‘why else would she have done it? I was a burden to her. she was so stressed. she cried so much. It had to be me, right? the kids at school always told me I was awful for her, a waste of space, and isnt that true? why else would she leave me? why else would she abandon me? It has to be’-
His writing sped up as he went, becoming more and more shaky, before he was suddenly interrupted by Akira writing ‘GORO’ in large letters over his words. He immediately stopped, holding his breath. They rarely ever interrupted each other like this. After a few seconds Akira continued in much smaller letters underneath, ‘Stop. Please.’
He’d upset him. They each had their own sides, Goro writing on the right due to being left handed, while Akira wrote on the left. They generally never intruded on each other’s space. The fact that Akira did spoke volumes.
Goro waited for Akira to write something, anything. He couldn’t write first, not after being told to stop.
After what felt like forever, Akira finally wrote, continuing down the leg of his usual side. ‘Don’t think things like that. None of this is your fault. Those kids were wrong. I don’t know why she did it, but it’s not your fault. You’re too…’ Akira paused, as if in thought. ‘Too good. Too important. You’re my bestest friend, after all. No one gets to badmouth my bestest friend, not even himself.’
Oh, and Goro was crying again. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped.
Akira really was too good for him. He was a goofy fool most of the time, but when it mattered… he was so kind and understanding. Goro loved him so, so much.
Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat before finally lifting the pen to his skin. ‘Thank you.’ That somehow felt insufficient, though. They weren’t usually too sappy, but… this was a special case. ‘Really. You’re too good to me, but… thank you.’ He hesitated before finishing, ‘I love you.’
His ears burned at the admission, though he didn’t really know why. He’d never written it upfront before, but he’d made it clear to Akira that he cared for him. It was normal to love your ‘bestest friend’, right?
It didn’t take long for Akira to respond. Speaking of goofy… Rather than writing, Akira drew a happy little thing - a cat, maybe? Or a rabbit? - right above his ankle. It looked like it was dancing. It was ridiculous.
Despite everything, a laugh bubbled up in his throat. He really did love him.
Goro expressed this by drawing a little heart right next to the silly drawing. Akira immediately drew a smiley face next to the heart. Goro’s chest felt warm.
After a moment, Akira wrote, ‘I love you too, Goro. Always.’
——————————
As always, life moved on.
Living in institutions was hard, but Goro learned to adapt. As a scrawny eight-year-old, he was the perfect target for plenty of bullying from the other kids. He learned very quickly that fighting back would just result in a miserable beating. So instead, he learned how to survive.
He hid the things he cared about so they couldn’t steal them. He already knew how to live with hunger, so he didn’t care when almost half his meals were inevitably taken. He learned all the best hiding spots, places that a small boy like him could fit to get away from the older kids.
Life wasn’t great, but he managed.
At the end of the day, he had something they could never take away. It was harder to keep as constant of contact with Akira as before, but they still wrote to each other every day. Akira listened any time Goro was upset, always quick to offer up comfort or distractions.
Yet again, days passed into weeks, which passed into months, which passed into years. Life was in constant flux for Goro, people always entering and exiting from the institutions, while Goro himself was passed around from place to place. He was temporarily placed into foster care twice, which… did not go well for him.
Even with Akira’s support, he developed behavioral problems that no one found appealing. Who wanted to keep the angry kid that would sooner spit on your shoes than open up to you? He couldn’t help it, though. All of these adults felt so fake, and the ones who didn’t would soon leave his life anyways.
His second foster home was worse than the first. His foster father decided he wanted to “fix” Goro’s behavior. This translated into constant punishments for minor transgressions. All it taught Goro was how to take a punch.
He lived there for an entire year.
Through it all, Akira was the one stable thing in his life. Goro felt bad for always needing comfort from him, but Akira reassured him that it was fine. Goro’s life was so much harder than his was. He didn’t mind listening.
School was difficult for Goro. He’d always been smart, but it felt like every classmate knew he was a “throwaway child”. They loved to treat him as such. It made it difficult to pay attention in class. The tutors that came to the institutions were just barely able to counteract it.
He worked hard to keep his grades up, anyways. It was the only thing he was good at. It was the only thing that brought worth into his life. He refused to let go of it.
Time passed, and Goro was graduating elementary school. At twelve years old, he was much less enthusiastic about it than he was when he was six. He had three more years of mandatory schooling. He wondered if he would be able to get into high school.
Not like it really mattered. He wouldn’t have a future either way.
Middle school was exactly the same as elementary school, in terms of his peer interactions. They continued to ostracize him for the things outside of his control. He continued to work hard to keep his grades up, anyways.
Things got worse when his peers learned that his soulmate was a boy. Someone spotted the name ‘Akira’ on his arm, and suddenly it felt like the whole school was bullying him for being gay. It wasn’t like it was even true, since he wasn’t dating Akira. Soulmates could be platonic, but his peers didn’t care.
(In the privacy of his own thoughts, Goro contemplated the possibility of dating Akira. It didn’t disgust him like it should have. He wondered if that meant he was gay, after all.)
He didn’t share the nature of the bullying with Akira, just that it was worse than before. He could tell that Akira was frustrated. He told Goro on more than one occasion that he wished he could do more to help him.
That was just the story of their lives, ultimately.
Things came to a head in October of that year. One of his classmates thought it would be hilarious to steal his math notebook and drop it into the pond right in front of him. All of his notes from the year, as well as last night’s homework, were reduced to a soggy mess in a single moment of cruelty.
Goro snapped. He attacked the other boy with all the pent up fury from thirteen years of injustice and mistreatment. Despite being smaller, Goro overwhelmed him. By the time he was pulled off, still kicking and screaming, Goro had managed to break the boy’s nose and reduce his face to a bruised mess. His own face ached from the single punch the boy had returned, but he didn’t care. A black eye was nothing.
The school administration disapproved of his actions. The useless fools who turned a blind eye to the months of bullying Goro endured suddenly cared so much. They threatened expulsion, but ultimately settled on suspension. They made it very clear that if he messed up in such a way again, they would not be as forgiving.
The incident only served to stoke the growing inferno of rage in his heart. None of the adults gave a shit about him. He already knew that, but seeing it shown so blatantly filled his heart with contempt.
Akira was worried when Goro told him. He asked Goro to try to get help, but Goro dismissed the idea. Who would he even turn to about this?
His problem was that none of the adults cared about him. He had no one.
The one benefit from it all was that when he returned to school, word of the incident had spread around to the entire student body. Everyone looked at him like he was a budding psychopath, someone five seconds away from snapping at any point. Bitterly, Goro wondered if that was true.
While it wasn’t a pleasant way to be viewed, it meant that everyone was scared of him now. All it took was one glare from him to keep the others away. The bullying was reduced to hostile whispers any time they thought he wasn’t paying attention. It was much easier to handle than before.
The next spring, Akira was starting middle school, too. His parents celebrated the occasion by gifting him with his first cell phone. Akira was practically buzzing in excitement over it as he shared his number with Goro.
Goro tried to be happy for him, but it just reminded him of what he didn’t have. He morosely shared that he didn’t have a cell phone, so he wouldn’t be able to message Akira.
Even still, he committed the number to memory. Writing it down was too risky, since he had no clue who might find it and get funny ideas. He repeated it in his head fifty times to be sure that he wouldn’t forget it. Every night for a month afterwards, he would silently recite it to himself. The string of numbers were so thoroughly committed to his memory that he knew he would never forget them.
Akira signed up for gymnastics early in the school year. He took to it like a fish to water. Goro was happy for him, but he privately burned with jealousy. The fact that Akira could do things like this while he couldn’t made him curse the injustice of the world even more.
He never shared this with him, though. The fact that he was jealous at all made Goro feel guilty. Akira was his friend. He should just be happy for him, regardless of his personal situation.
One unfortunate side effect of it was that Akira had even less time to write to Goro. Between school, gymnastics, and friends, Akira was a busy guy. He always wrote to Goro at least once a day, but he never had time to write much.
Goro let it be. It wasn’t like he needed Akira. He was perfectly fine on his own.
He decided he wanted to try to get into high school, after all. The thought of setting out into the world at 15 just to get stuck in dead end jobs for the rest of his life while Akira was continuously achieving… he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t lose to him.
Goro doubled down on his studies, rising to the top place of the student body. Everyone was still wary of him because of his violent history, but he worked to overcome it. While he didn’t give a single shit what his peers thought of him, he needed his teachers to like him. It’d be easier to get into high school if they recommended him.
Over time, he perfected his charming smile. His teachers were so easy to fool, falling for the simple, hardworking boy he appeared to be.
Look at Goro, he’s so capable! I heard he was a troublemaker, but that’s so hard to believe! How could a sweet boy like him do anything like that?
It was too easy. The idiots ate the act right up.
By occupying himself in such a way, he could almost pretend that he wasn’t upset that Akira had no time for him anymore. He was fine on his own. Really, he was.
If he dropped everything to look at his arm any time he felt that familiar tingle… no one needed to know.
By his third year, his plan was going well. He was lucky his birthday was so early in the school year. As soon as he turned fifteen, he started applying for jobs. He needed to work and save up money.
Akira wasn’t the only one who was busy all the time, now. Every waking moment of Goro’s life was spent either studying or working. He slept like the dead every single night, then rose again to do it all over again. It was exhausting, but he didn’t care. So long as he managed to do something, anything, with his life… exhaustion didn’t matter.
A few months before graduation, Goro saved up enough to buy himself a decently nice phone. He immediately put Akira’s number into his contact list, but hesitated before he sent him a message. Some part of Goro resented how little he seemed to matter to Akira, these days. Why should he owe him this?
Goro didn’t send any messages. He didn’t tell Akira he got a phone, either.
With graduation approaching, it was finally time to apply to high school. While other students met their teachers alongside their parents, Goro met them alone. It did nothing to deter his ambition. He spoke of his wish to attend a prestigious public high school (he knew there was no way he’d be able to afford a private one). His work the past few years was finally paying off; his teachers agreed to put in a recommendation for him to his top choice.
It was far from a guarantee to get in. Very few students were ever admitted through recommended entrance. He had a backup plan just in case, an application to a less prestigious school. If his first plan failed, he would just take the entrance exams like everyone else.
He still wanted to try. If he managed to be admitted in this way, it would make him special.
The incident from his first year was the hardest hurdle to pass. He anticipated the questions about it in his interviews, so he was prepared for it. He spun a sob story about his difficult past and the bullying he endured, which was the source of his incident. After it happened, however, he thoroughly examined himself and resolved to grow from it! He turned his life around to become the model student he aspired to be. Just ask his teachers! They would confirm it.
Just like his teachers, they ate it right up. It really was too easy.
It was to his immense satisfaction to learn that his application was accepted. He never truly doubted himself.
Even having drifted from Akira in recent years, Goro was too excited to keep this to himself. He announced his success in being accepted to his first choice of school. Akira congratulated him enthusiastically before asking him questions about his plans. It ended up being the longest conversation they’d had in months.
For the first time in his life, Goro felt like he could possibly become someone. It was an uphill battle, but he was nothing if not tenacious.
He would succeed, or he would die trying.