Rules Were Made to be Broken

‣ scene 22 [tomorrow can be brighter]

CONTENT WARNING W/SPOILERS: skip this part of the blurb if you don't want spoilers. ...okay. so, you thought kiyotaka's parents were bad? mondo's dad makes them look like ANGELS. warning for discussion of child abuse of the physical and sexual varieties, attempted suicide, and excessive drinking. and anger and depression and self-loathing.

NON-SPOILERY VERSION: this is a really long chapter compared to the others because it's tying together so many little hints and loose ends. and our boys have quite a bit to discuss. and also this one's definitely sad/heavy and painful to read in parts even if you don't have any experience with the issues covered. that said, it's a positive story in the end, because the boy is okay now and has had time to heal in a healthy way. hence the chapter title.

————

Once they had escaped the suddenly oppressive atmosphere of the city streets, Mondo used his motorcyle to transport both himself and his passenger to a quiet place that Kiyotaka had never seen before. Mondo coaxed Kiyotaka off of the bike before he carefully guided it along with them through the grass, deploying the kickstand when he had reached his apparent destination.

They were near the edge of a cliff that jutted out over the sea. Kiyotaka had always known that the city was located by the shore, but he hadn't ever gotten to see the beach since moving there with his family. He'd never had the time. And while the cliffside wasn't exactly a beach, it overlooked the ocean. For as far as he could see, there was only water below and the expanse of dark sky above. He could hardly determine where one ended and the other began. They blended into one another.

"I used t'come here when I needed to be alone."

Mondo offered that as his only explanation, and then he allowed himself to slide down until he was seated in the grass. He patted the spot beside him. The motorcyle offered them a shield from prying eyes. Kiyotaka sighed and stormed away, closer to the edge. He wasn't ready to sit down just yet. He was too full of nervous energy that he needed to work out of his system. Mondo didn't demand that he join him. He just waited quietly as Kiyotaka paced back and forth.

The words started pouring from his mouth before he even realized that he was speaking. His voice was a pitiful screech, and tears swelled from his weary eyes. Mondo still didn't say anything. And Kiyotaka appreciated that— he needed it. He needed time to sort out his thoughts amid the jumble of it all, to finally put into words what he never, ever had, without being interrupted or asked to clarify.

Kiyotaka told Mondo about the happy family life he'd had when he was little. He told him all about Toranosuke's unforeseen betrayal, and about the bankruptcy and the school transfers and the bullying. He told him about the cold townhome full of spiders and about Snowball and the loss of his prized calligraphy set.

Kiyotaka told Mondo all about his friendless high school career and the many jobs he'd worked only to have all of his earnings confiscated, and about the secret boyfriend he'd had in college before the fear of being found out by his parents made him flee the relationship, and he explained how that pressure had forced him into confiding in his parents about his orientation just for them to slap it down like it was an arbitrary preference that didn't mean anything. He talked about their unplanned visits to make sure that he was studying, and recounted the time he'd been hospitalized from sheer over-work and had thought, for only a minute, that it would be easier to just die.

Kiyotaka cried and told Mondo about how much he had always hated the tech industry, but had gone and worked in the field anyway simply because he didn't know what else to do. He confessed everything about the fake-relationship-turned-fake-engagement, and admitted to his tantrum after he'd gotten his promotion. He talked and talked until, finally, he made it up to the events of that very night. He described everything in detail, not leaving out a single ounce of information.