This is just part of the plan

WARNING: abuse

The experimental substances injected into Natsuo robbed him of his senses. He couldn't tell the difference between day and night, or even the passing of time.

The strange mixtures were shot into his veins evenly, rumbling through his body and mind like a storm, leaving him only nauseous and dazed. He experienced extreme mood swings, from fear and paranoia, to moments of short-lived euphoria - though they weren't pleasant.

In the aftermath of his last shot, he was curled up in a ball on the floor, shaking slightly. He heard the creaking stairs, but didn't bother to look up - there was no point in caring who was coming. All he could focus on was the constant shaking and the unbearable nausea he was feeling.

"Once again, you forgot to eat dinner," the primary captor said in a strained voice.

The young man closed his eyes. He was too exhausted and drained to muster any energy or will to respond. His tired and miserable thoughts drifted to his roommate - during his few clear-headed moments after the drugs had worn off, he couldn't help but think of him.

He wondered if Jiro had set him up for that fate - the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a possibility.

The man, despite being a yakuza, had always been kind and helpful to him - but lately, their relationship had grown. Or maybe it was just an act. Jiro had always seemed so genuine, but maybe he was just using him to get information or something else.

If that was the case, thinking about it hurt - more than any beating or poison ever used on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears that suddenly threatened to spill.

The captor raised his head curiously, like he was trying to understand the victim's feelings.

"Are you grieving something? Could that be a side effect?" he mused out loud while taking out their documents, where they kept track of all the shots and their reactions. He studied the papers carefully and narrowed his dark eyes as he read the text.

"Interesting, the complexity of the human organism and brain," he muttered.

"Did he… know about this?" Natsuo whispered, his voice weak and raspy.

The man seemed surprised to hear a word from him, considering his weakened state and instructions not to speak without being asked.

"How about this? I will tell you if you eat your dinner," the yakuza replied as he nodded at the soup bowl that had been sitting there for hours.

Natsuo gathered what little strength he had left and reached out for it, clawing desperately at the air. His body was already damaged, and he would probably die there anyway, so he could just give up and give in to his captors to get some answers.

The man helped him sit up and propped him against the wall.

"There you go," he said and offered the foul-smelling meal to the youth.

Natsuo stared at the murky green liquid in front of him, which seemed to swirl on its own. He gagged as he compelled himself to take a sip of the bitter, thick liquid.

His stomach cramped and his throat tightened, but he managed to gulp down some broth before turning away, spitting out the revolting contents that nearly made him throw up. He had eaten many bad things while living on the streets, even rotten and spoiled food, but that, whatever it was, tasted much worse.

Like a switch was flipped inside the yakuza's head. He grabbed the bowl and forced the material down the young man's throat, not letting go until he had taken a few mouthfuls.

"Now, now, don't be ungrateful. You have to eat. It's for your own good," he reminded, pressing his hand to cover the captive's mouth. When he saw the other swallow, he removed his hand, a satisfied smile crossing his face.

"Good boy," he praised Natsuo, who gasped for air and wiped his mouth.

The eighteen-year-old's feeble gaze focused on the main oppressor as if he could pressure him to answer his question - but seconds later everything started to fade away. Darkness slowly enveloped him as his eyelids drooped.

"Did... he... knew..."

The yakuza placed his calloused hand on the other's sweaty cheek. The latter heaved a last sigh before collapsing into the man's touch and drifting off to sleep.

The man rubbed away a tear stain from the boy's face with a blank expression.

"No, he didn't," he replied quietly, watching the target's reaction to the ingested substance.

(Elsewhere at the same time)

In the dark room, heavy footsteps were heard as a figure paced back and forth.

Yoshio Takahashi scowled at the constant noise as he attempted to infiltrate a secure server. His white-haired cousin was clearly impatient and frustrated, constantly moving behind his back.

"How about getting a cup of coffee?" the hacker suggested.

Jiro sighed and shifted his gaze over to his relative. He was worried about the consequences of their actions if they got caught, but he knew they needed to take that risk to succeed.

"I could use one. And you are distracting me."

Jiro sighed again and agreed, leaving his cousin's office as he made his way to the bare kitchen. It was sparsely furnished, with just a few basic appliances, as the man preferred to spend his wealth on the latest electronics rather than decoration.

Jiro opened the fridge, which was rather empty, and took out a bottle of soy milk. His hands slightly trembled as he measured the water, thinking about how his kidnapped roommate had been making coffee lately since he had learned how to make it perfectly.

Each morning, Natsuo prepared it for him, putting it in Jiro's travel mug and leaving it on the table. Whenever the yakuza had a rough night and came home late, the brunet brought it up to his bed and left it on the nightstand for him to drink when he woke up. It was only a small gesture, but it felt comforting to know someone considered his needs - something he didn't take for granted.

The man cursed loudly as he spilled some beans on the counter, so he quickly brushed them off into the sink. His tattooed hands leaned against the surface and he let his head hang low for a moment.

Jiro pondered the plan he had been working on for months and how it was now finally coming to fruition by accident.

The first step was to gain the bully's trust. He was prepared that it could take a long time, even years, but Natsuo needed to be at his mercy before his plot could truly start.

Slowly, he could manipulate the man, trick him into doing illegal things and ruin his reputation, turning him into a target for the yakuza. He would tangle him in a web of lies, making him vulnerable so Jiro could control him.

Then, when the right moment would arrive, the former bullied could easily betray his tormentor. He would let the yakuza humiliate and torture him, but in the end, the bully would end his agony by taking his own life - the same way Jiro had.

He knew that this was the perfect opportunity for him to get back to the person who had wronged him, but all he could think about was how to save the other one.

The yakuza gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of guilt consuming him. He slammed the measuring cup down on the counter, making a loud noise in the quiet kitchen as an expression of his frustration.

"This is just part of the plan," Jiro reminded himself as he clenched his fists.

He remembered how a student named Nakashima had terrorized him when they were in school, how Nakashima had laughed and humiliated him to the point he wanted to die.

The man closed his eyes and let the darkness calm him, just like it always did - the only thing that had ever comforted him. Even though he had intended to die by his own hand, but stayed alive for whatever reason, he eventually understood it was so he could get his revenge - which he would get, at any cost.