These are dangerous people

The lavish bedroom was dark as the white-haired man, whose wounds had been patched up in the hospital, slept peacefully on his king-sized bed.

The black curtains were drawn tightly shut, blocking any glimpse of the morning light. The crisp cotton sheets were draped over the man's body and the only sound in the room was his soft snoring.

Another young man sat cross-legged in an armchair in the corner of the room, looking tired from lack of sleep. A hooded sweatshirt covered his head, and his coffee-brown hair poked out from underneath, obscuring his face.

It had been a long night as he had awoken the injured every two hours to see if he was still conscious and that his condition, a diagnosed brain concussion, wouldn't get worse.

The brunet noticed the clock was approaching nine and it was time to wake him up again. He stood up and reached out to shake Jiro's shoulder while calling out his name softly. The beaten man stirred from his sleep and slowly opened his eyes, taking a moment to recognize the familiar figure standing before him.

"Let's sleep together," his groggy voice suggested as he reached out to grab the young man's arm to pull him to bed.

Natsuo stumbled forward, embarrassed and not sure what to do. His face flushed as he digested what the man had said and how close he had got to him - but Jiro backed away and moved to the other edge of the spacious bed, keeping his drowsy attention trained on the brown-haired man.

"Aren't you tired? This has been a long night," his former classmate replied as Natsuo remained motionless, slightly trembling as he realized what he had been thinking.

"It's alright, I'm just saying you should take a break too," he reassured with a smile, motioning for the other to lie down.

Natsuo could feel his heart beating faster and his muscles tensing as he tried to respond, but all he could do was stare away. Luckily for him, his hair was long enough to cover his face, partially hiding his overly blushed cheeks.

"I will just turn over and you can sleep on the other side of the bed. I promise I won't disturb you," Jiro offered and rolled onto his side.

The brunet gave his bruised naked back a last glance before crawling under the sheets and turning away from him. His nose caught a faint hint of his roommate's cologne mixed with a metallic blood smell, reminding him of the night's events. The bedding was warm from the other man's body heat, making him feel rather self-conscious and uncomfortable.

Natsuo couldn't help but feel guilty for allowing himself to lay beside another man in his bed, even if it was just for sleep, but he had stayed up for two nights and was so exhausted that he couldn't even think clearly. His eyelids drooped shut after a deep breath and he curled under the blanket, finally giving in to the sleep he had been craving for the past days.

Jiro on the other side kept his eyes open, even though he was almost as fatigued.

His mind raced with all the details of the past day. He had been weirdly worried since he realized the man he had been living with had left without a trace, leaving behind all his possessions.

Although the person next to him was the source of his troubles, he was relieved to see him again. He appreciated the support he gave him through the night, such as watching over him and making sure he was okay.

Jiro had noticed a different spark in Natsuo's eyes that he hadn't seen before. It was an intense emotion that he couldn't quite place - some sort of mix of fear, guilt, and maybe even a bit of longing.

Though it was hard for him to admit it, he had the slightest sympathy for the person who had caused him so much pain. As much as Jiro wanted to deny it, he had started to feel a connection to the man beside him - one that extended beyond hatred, as if they were both searching for answers that could only be found together and only the other understood.

He shook his head and tried to clear his mind, pushing away any thoughts of understanding or empathy. His only option was to remain focused and remember his mission - to take revenge for all the misery he had suffered.

(A couple of days later)

Jiro's bruises slowly healed over the course of a few days. He was surprised to find that the feeling of attachment to his despised bully still remained, even though he had been so hesitant to admit it. Even though he tried to push it away, it lurked in the back of his mind.

Natsuo's voice was still quiet as they talked, but maybe a bit more confident. He had started to take small steps forward - sometimes he looked the other man in the eyes when he addressed him, but there was still a slight quiver in his voice when he mentioned his roommate's name, as if that made him nervous.

That evening, the tattooed man sat on a stool in his bathroom, decorated in a navy blue and black color scheme, featuring shiny accents and bold art prints.

Natsuo cleaned his bruises and applied an ointment to reduce swelling, before bandaging all his wounds and scratches with thick, white gauze.

Jiro watched as the other one carefully tended to his injuries, using gentle, but slightly anxious hands. The two men were quiet, but there was a distinct feeling between them as if they were both trying to communicate with each other without saying a word.

"Done," Natsuo said as he finished.

Jiro noticed the tinge of redness in Natsuo's cheeks. His gaze lingered on the other man's face for a moment before he looked away.

"Are you in pain?" he asked when the silence arguably became too much for him to take.

"Not that much. Thanks for looking after me," Jiro replied with a small smile pulling at his lips.

He was started by his phone ringing, so he quickly grabbed it from his pants pocket.

"Sorry, I have to take this," the older man sighed and stood up. He put the phone to his ear and walked away, suddenly feeling uneasy at the sight of the number. His gut told him it couldn't be pleasant.

"Takuya. Tell me what transpired on Miyahara's territory the other day."

Hideo Ishida, a saiko-komon, the highest-ranking advisor of the yakuza clan, spoke in a voice that was harsh and authoritative. He was the oyabun's right-hand man and was responsible for overseeing all operations within the clan.

Jiro described what had happened as he walked deeper into the penthouse, explaining that he barely set foot in Miyahara's neighborhood before being attacked. He continued that he had been searching for a friend, gulping as he identified his bully with that title, and vowed never to let it happen again.

"Miyahara is upset because the agreement between our clans has been violated. He is demanding an apology and compensation for the damages."

"What damages?" Jiro tried to argue, but saiko-komon cut him off with a stern voice.

"It doesn't matter. Miyahara is determined to make an example out of this and wants to teach us a lesson. He will not accept anything less than an apology and a generous settlement. I trust that you will handle that personally."

Jiro squeezed the phone.

"Yes, saiko-komon. I will take care of that," he said, and promised his superior that he would do whatever it took to ensure the agreement between the two clans was respected.

After he ended the call, he heard footsteps behind him, bringing him back to his surroundings.

"Were you beaten because you were looking for me?"

Natsuo's voice was weak, barely noticeable as he asked his question. Jiro turned around to face him and tried to keep his appearance neutral.

"Well, it's my fault. I wanted to find you and I knew the consequences that could come with it."

Natsuo wiped his eyes in an awkward motion and cleared his throat a bit too loudly before he replied.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that," he said, his voice still unsteady as he continued.

"I would like to help you... whatever is required of you."

The man's pale brown eyes widened at his offer. He would have never guessed an offer like that coming from his past bully.

"You know, interfering with this is dangerous. These are dangerous people," the yakuza warned, becoming serious.

But the slender figure nodded his head, insisting that he wanted to help him with whatever was requested of him.