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ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ

A/N: I really warred with myself about posting this chapter but fuck it, here it is. Mild spicy content. Rated 'K' for 'kinda smutty'.

Enji should have known better. 

Masaru had told him that he'd only had a few scrapes and bruises from that awful woman but the entirety of his back and sides is covered in varying shades of blackening marks and gashes---some that have mostly begun to scab over by now. He could tell that his ribs aren't broken since he's able to twist and turn normally; she probably made sure not to break anything since it would be a little difficult to explain the marks and bruises if she had to take him to the emergency room at General. 

Just looking at them makes Enji's stomach curl and tighten uncomfortably. 

"Oh...you poor thing. I'm so sorry." He breathes and Masaru can barely muster the tears to mourn himself anymore; he's quite used to them now. Even still, he winces when the redhead's fingers ghost over his tender skin. He offers a bitter laugh. "Jeez, are they that horrible? I've never thought to look at them. I guess I've just gotten used to living with them after all of these years." He says with a sniffle, eyes glued to his feet at the foot of the tub. The warm water is doing wonders for his aching body. "Thirty years. I've been married to Mitsuki for thirty years now." 

"...was it always like this?" Enji plans to clean his wounds as best he can and give him something to make them a bit less uncomfortable. That's all that he can do for him. As far as healing goes, he must let them heal on their own. 

Masaru lifts his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

"I think so. I can't really remember a time she wasn't like this. But she took me out of shelters and gave me a home. She gave me purpose." 

"And that was reason enough for you to stay?" 

"Where would I have gone, love? Back to the shelters to keep selling my body for a meal and a place to sleep?" 

Ah. So for him, he assumed he'd chosen the lesser of two evils. 

Unlike Enji, Masaru wasn't born into wealth and was sold off by his parents fairly early in life. He spent a lot of time bouncing from shelter to shelter, each one just as horrible as the last until he'd been found by Mitsuki. She liked that he was docile and timid, easy to lower his head and submit when presented with a...what had she called it? A proper authority. 

What a fucking joke. 

"Everything I have is because of Mitsuki---" 

"That's not true, not at all." Enji is careful with his sponge, not wanting to be too rough with Masaru while he's obviously in quite the delicate state. "If anything, her current success is thanks to you. You draw up the designs and create them, don't you? Your wife may have funded your initial success but everything that you have now is because you've worked for it. Don't ever allow those bastard alphas to take your accomplishments away from you." 

There's a moment of silence between them, save for the distinct sound of Enji dipping the sponge into the tub and wringing the water from it. 

"I've never thought about it that way." 

Enji wants to say that it's because Masaru's been brainwashed by his alpha but he wouldn't dare risk making him feel even more guilty than he already did---blaming himself for things that were no fault of his own. Enji's been there. He knows how devastating it can be.