Trapped Behind Words: InuOkko

Chapter 1: Yuta

Yuta Okkotsu didn't know how he had found himself walking to a group therapy session. The truth was, everything had been a little hazy for the last nine years. Nothing was particularly beautiful or tasted especially good. It was as if someone had turned down the saturation on being alive, affecting more than just his vision. Was that what being nineteen was like, or being an adult, perhaps?

Satoru Gojo was his neighbor at the time. He was a tall, rather muscular, white-haired young man who ran an office out of the apartment across from Yuta's. What had started as a seemingly benign neighborly relationship had morphed into something even stranger than Gojo himself. However, strangeness had become the new normal for Yuta, and anything was welcome as long as it came with a smile.

No one had told him that living alone came with so much downtime. There were the hours that he worked, but as soon as he was home, it became an instant retreat into solitude. Unwashed bricks plastered the exterior of the apartment building, making a vibrant and bright man like Gojo stand out amidst the dreary surroundings.

Loneliness had proven to be quite a shell for Yuta to live in. No one told him what to do, but no one was around to stop him either. There was no one to hug when his memories came flooding back in the middle of the night while scrolling through his desolate feed. Yet, Gojo had convinced him to go to this session at a community center that Yuta didn't even know existed.

It was the day prior. Yuta had briefly left his apartment for half an hour to grab a package of milk candies from the store. When he returned, the door was open, and Gojo stood in the entrance, staring down with his glassy, light blue eyes. Sure, the man was uncouth, but he never seemed like the breaking and entering type.

Gojo's lips were plump and glossy as they moved. "You were sick a lot as a kid, weren't you?"

Meanwhile, his eyes made Yuta's clothes feel transparent. There was an intensity behind them, but his brows never moved. The way Gojo spoke was usually energetic, with an offer of letting Yuta borrow a movie or giving him dessert in the middle of the afternoon. This time was different-his voice was inquisitive but somber.

Yuta felt his eyes widen in that moment. Gojo was in his apartment. Why was he there? Why was he suddenly acting like this?

Yuta struggled to think of a way to diffuse the situation. "Mr. Gojo! What are you doing in my apartment?"

The complex was small, only housing four buildings with six rooms each split between two floors. Gojo and Yuta's doors faced each other, which could have been an excuse for confusion if Yuta had forgotten to lock the door. However, that was one of Yuta's few strengths: keeping people out and away. It had been Yuta's talent since grade school but had truly become second nature after high school.

There wasn't anything inside worth stealing, but it wasn't as if Gojo needed to steal anything anyway. On all the occasions they had exchanged greetings, the pale white-haired man wore a different outfit. They weren't simple t-shirt and pants combinations either. He adorned himself with fully adorned and well-fitting clothes that made him stand out even more than he already did.

"You didn't answer my question, Okkotsu, or can I call you Yuta since we've known each other for a while?" Gojo's face was expressionless.

"Uh, yeah, Yuta is fine! I was... how did you know?" Yuta replied.

There wasn't much of a story for that part of his life. He had been in and out of the hospital for years, which made it difficult to make friends until he met Rika. He loved her more than anything in the world. He still did, but she was dead.

"I thought your name sounded familiar. Tell me, Yuta, why are there so many razor blades pushed into your walls?" Gojo asked.

How could Gojo possibly know his name? There wasn't a major story in any news outlets about a random sickly child. He hadn't contracted a rare disease or been a Make-A-Wish kid. There was no reason for any of this.