Chapter 8
Cafeteria food from the hospital Takahiro had been dining in for the last week made an appearance on Akihiko's upstairs hallway. Mouthful after mouthful of half-digested rice and curry splattered onto the prostrate form between his legs, and slowly accumulated upon the hardwood floor.
Appalled at his own weak constitution, he struggled to maintain the animal bloodlust that had driven him to take another man's life. The good, gracious man Takahiro had assumed himself to be was nowhere in sight. Thrusting his body into submission, he again struck out at Sumi. After some time, Takahiro's strength waned, fury dissipated, and he began to feel the dampness of blood on his face, soaking his shirt.
"Taka…Takahiro!"
He looked up, glassy eyes flashing, and saw the questioning face of the man who had once been his closest friend. His hands were still wrapped tightly around the metal bar as he stood up and away from his opponent. Takahiro shook his head, as if to empty it of all thought, focusing his eyes upon Akihiko. The man was still shaking uncontrollably, but had managed to put some slacks on. His upper torso was covered in angry red lines and welts, shoulders hunched, eyes dull and glued to the metal rod dripping hair and blood and scalp.
Takahiro's eyes trailed from Akihiko, to the weapon, to Sumi. He nudged Sumi with his foot and was rewarded with nothing more than ragged gasps for air. The man was struggling for every breath he could steal from the thick air of Akihiko's penthouse. He was obviously unconscious, and quite possibly at death's door. Another wave of nausea washed over Takahiro as he realized he felt little, if any, remorse for what he had done. Stepping over the body, Takahiro made his way towards Akihiko and saw a subtle shift in his friend's eyes. Fear?
"Ah… Usagi, let's get you into the bathroom so I can take a look at your wounds. Don't worry, we'll deal with this mess later." Takahiro stood and moved towards Akihiko, reaching out to take him by the arm and away from the carnage in the hallway. Akihiko backpedaled into the wall.
"Takahiro… I…" He looked into the face of Akihiko and saw the barely controlled panic behind his eyes. Grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze, Takahiro smiled grimly, pushing him in the direction of the bathroom.
"There's nothing to worry about now, so please, just let me take care of you." Takahiro turned his back to Akihiko and began rummaging around in the vanity drawers for antiseptic cream and bandages. Having found them, Takahiro began cleaning and bandaging the torn skin around Akihiko's wrists.
"How long has that monster been here, Usagi?"
"I don't even know how it happened, Takahiro. I got back from my trip, and I was so excited to come home and see Misaki… His bastard sempai tried to convince me Misaki had moved back home with you, and didn't want any contact from me, but I couldn't believe it. One thing led to another…" Akihiko's voice quavered as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. "Takahiro, don't tell Misaki."
Takahiro paused, antiseptic covered q-tip poised in the air, "I won't." He looked towards the ground. "Usagi, what did Sumi mean by saying he only did to you what you did to Misaki? Sumi raped you, didn't he?"
"That's not it at all! I never did anything to Misaki that he didn't want me to! If you hadn't come when you did, I don't know how much further he would have gone." Akihiko shuddered, feeling Sumi's nails still upon his skin, saliva trails barely dried. Sumi between his legs, mercilessly thrusting into his raw ass. Akihiko blinked the thought away, focusing instead on the one person who could erase the torment he had gone through. In the pit of his stomach, he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, Sumi had told him many times already since the charade had been revealed. "Takahiro… where is Misaki?"
"You know, Usagi, you're lucky to have escaped with so little damage. Misaki was not nearly as lucky in Sumi's hands." Takahiro's voice dipped lower, shaded with outrage. "He's been in the hospital for over a week now, broken face, broken ribs, covered in bruises. His doctors put him into a coma-like state so that his injuries have a chance to heal."
Akihiko's hand balled into a fist. "I'm so sorry, Takahiro. I should have been there for you. For you both."