☆ eight

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a/n: twirls hair... hi you guys... i'm very proud of this chapter bc i think i went more in depth with ayato's character which i've been trying to do !! so let me know if you guys liked that :) also thank u guys for such sweet comments despite the fact that the wait in between chapters is oh so very long. they keep me motivated :,) also you guys are gonna see kazuha soon!! please don't lose hope <3

qotc: last movie watched?

(mine was bottoms teehee)

sotc: sun bleached flies by ethel cain



haruki hates this. actually scratch that, he fucking despises this. he can't even begin to think about how one, his mother practically screwed him over and two, apparently everybody in this goddamned town thought he just up and murdered his best friend. (granted, it's been like that for months but one can't just simply shrug off the idea that the majority of the town thought he was capable of murder and even if he was, that he would go through with it.)

haruki groans as his hand absentmindedly brushes up against a forming bruise on his upper bicep. the police had held him so tightly that he was pretty sure nearly every one of his limbs had a forming bruise on it. haru rests his head on the wall of the holding cell, bored out of his mind. there was nothing he could do except stare at the other people in the same holding cell as him. they all looked older than him– they were all no younger than twenty three which made him feel like a child and also embarrassed by the fact that they all probably thought he was going to jail super young.

haru wants to speak up about how it's not his fault and he actually didn't do it, everybody just seems intent on pointing fingers at whoever so they could just shut the case close and make kazuha's family slightly less upset. he knows that nobody here actually cares, though.

he doesn't know how long it's been since he was practically shoved into this cell. it feels like an eternity but he knows it's really not. maybe a few hours? four? five? six? it's not as if the people in the same holding cell as him were so eager to hold a fun and silly conversation with him while he awaited his doomed fate.

a tapping against the bars catches his attention, behind it was a police officer on the other side of the bars, he was younger than majority of all the other police officers and had delicate skin. he speaks roughly of his name, however, "haruki fujiwara?"

he peeks up at the sound of his name, his eyes looking into the dead eyes of the officers before he responds, "that's me."

the officer nods as unlocks the holding cell, "make your phone call."

haruki nearly jumps with joy at the sound of the officers' rough and deep voice but wills himself to stay calm. the officer takes him to the phone and gestures for him to call someone. haruki holds the phone nervously as he dials one of the few phone numbers he knows by heart– his home phone. as his fingers press up against the numbered buttons, he prays and hopes that yae didn't just randomly decide to leave the house and that ajax suddenly hated being in his house for whatever reason.


the phone rings. and rings. and rings.

haruki is tense at the silence until finally someone picks up. a sigh is heard before he hears a voice and he already knows who it is. ei.

"hello." ei says– it's not a question, it's a statement. she already knows who's calling.

"it's me, haruki." he says shakily and he can almost hear her pursed lips as she hums shortly. he can practically see her nodding and checking her nails as she thinks.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Mar 28 ⏰

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