Then don't run away from me

The cold had seeped deep into Natsuo's body, numbing his fingers and settling into his bones, chilling him to the core.

He had no idea where he was heading or what he was looking for, but he knew he couldn't return to his old camp - it was sure his former roommate would look for him there, and he wasn't ready to deal with him yet. The young man had to find another place to stay, far away from his former shelter and the memories it brought back.

The slender figure trudged on, dragging his feet against the snow, until he finally found a small park that seemed abandoned for the night. He made his way to the swings and sat down on one, feeling the cold seat bite into his thighs.

It was dark, with clouds obscuring the moon and just a few faint streetlights casting pale, ghostly shadows on the frozen ground. Not a single person was in sight, leaving him completely on his own, but which was nothing new to him.

Natsuo wrapped his arms around himself, but it did little to warm him up. His thoughts returned to Jiro continuously throughout the day after leaving the penthouse, bringing back memories of their strained relationship.

He knew that living with the man wasn't the best option - trying to brush aside his own secret, there was always a part of him that dreaded the idea of causing him trouble and disrupting his peace of mind. His concern was that the once-bullied student wouldn't be happy around his former tormentor.

But it was also important that his previous classmate understood that his decision to leave was made out of necessity, not because he lacked anything.

Even if their meeting was brief, he was grateful to have reconnected with him, despite if their relationship had been awkward. A tiny part of him hoped that Jiro didn't see him as an enemy, but rather someone who did what was best for both of them.

The chains creaked as he got up from the swing. He tilted his head back and gazed at the night sky, dotted with twinkling stars and lit by a crescent moon.

Natsuo was embarrassed to face the other after his weird reaction, and he was scared it would happen again. His focus shifted toward Ayumi's neighborhood not that far away, wondering whether she would accept his small request.

(A while later)

"What the heck happened to you?" the black-haired woman in an oversized t-shirt snorted as she helped the white-haired man sit on her couch.

The tattooed man grimaced as he settled on the leather sofa, his body trembling and his ribs aching. Blood dripped down from his split lip and his face was discolored with dark bruises.

"Those fucking Miyahara scum," he muttered disgustedly.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?" his friend asked, sounding still sleepy from the sudden awakening when the man fiercely knocked on her door only a moment before.

"No need, just let me rest here for a while," Jiro sighed as he sank onto the couch, closing his eyes and trying to forget the pain.

He had woken up that morning with a severe headache and noticed he was missing a roommate. There was an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't just left for a quick walk, but that something else had driven him to make him run away.

The man just had to go looking for him, still thinking about revenge. He had wandered into an area controlled by the yakuza's enemies and was severely beaten by their rivals as a result. Even though he put up a good fight, he was no match for the three attackers. Eventually, he was overwhelmed by their strength, but managed to escape and flee the scene.

"Go home then," Ayumi said.

"You lived closer."

"Ugh, fine. Do you want a beer?"

A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Ayumi looked at the entrance with a puzzled expression and headed to see who was there at that hour. A familiar figure stood on her porch, trembling in the frigid air, seemingly troubled by being there.

"Ah, good to have you here as well," she exhaled and grabbed the young man's wrist before he could utter a word.

"Here, you can get your roommate back," she continued as she guided the sudden visitor towards the living room where the white-haired one was resting.

In the dimly lit space, both men's attention was drawn to one another. Natsuo's eyes widened and he breathed in a sharp breath when seeing the other's battered state.

"So, you came back," Jiro stated hoarsely.

But the newcomer didn't answer the man's question - instead, he looked difficult, avoiding the hurtful brown eyes and fidgeted nervously with his fingers.

Ayumi groaned as she slipped on her pants.

"I'm going to smoke. When I return, you better get going, so I can go sleep."

The two young men listened as the front door clicked shut. Natsuo hesitantly walked over to Jiro and studied him from head to toe, seemingly concerned about his condition.

"Can I... take a look at your wounds?"

Jiro nodded, and winced as the other man cautiously peeled away his shirt to reveal deep purple bruises along his rib cage. Natsuo gently stroked the colorful skin with a cold hand, causing the the white-haired one to flinch again.

"Your ribs are broken. Can you breathe normally?"

"I think so. Do I really need to go to the hospital?"

"Well, most likely."

Natsuo gingerly touched Jiro's head, skimming through the messy and muddy white hair with his fingertips. His touch was so delicate and soft, catching the yakuza by surprise.

"Did you hit your head?"

"Yeah."

"Were you unconscious?"

"No."

"So... what happened?" Natsuo asked, almost whispering.

"Well... I just met some of our clan's enemies. That's all."

The brunet frowned, but seemed to take that as an answer.

"Is there some kind of first aid kit around here? Does she have a cold pack or disinfection?"

"You left, didn't you?" the beaten yakuza stated feebly and brushed off his question. His pale brown eyes stared at him deeply, almost pleadingly.

"Do you hate me so much that you can't live with me?"

"No," Natsuo breathed out at once, and continued with a difficult expression, fiddling with his fingers again.

"I think... being so close together makes this too painful."

Although he expected to hear excuses and explanations, Jiro didn't expect to hear that. He tried to find the truth in Natsuo's words, wondering if he was sincere or if he was just reacting to the uncomfortable situation.

"You deserve to be happy and I think that won't work if I'm around. I don't want to be a reminder of the pain I caused you."

The slight blush on his face and the shakiness in his voice gave him away. Seeing that, the older man's bruised face softened and his lips crinkled up into a gentle half-grin as he looked at the nervous figure in front of him.

"Do you really want me to be happy?" Jiro asked in a deep tone.

Natsuo nodded faintly, still rather looking at the floor than his conversation partner.

"Then don't run away from me," Jiro replied, his voice becoming surprisingly emotional.

Natsuo finally managed to look up and meet his gaze. They didn't say anything to each other, as if they didn't have to. Maybe they both felt the unspoken words between them, the regret and the longing for something that would never be possible. Jiro felt it, and he was sure the other did too, based on the deep emotion in his blue eyes.

The owner of the rowhouse returned inside, scowling as she saw that the two were still there.

"What are you still doing here? I want to sleep. Just go to hospital right now," she snorted and pulled her jeans off.

Natsuo timidly extended his hand to his roommate, reluctant to look at him. His counterpart smiled widely, somewhat relieved to see him do that.

Jiro placed his hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The brunet helped him to stand, his skin still cold but quickly warming up, as if his body had heated from their contact.