A case study on Shijima Go's penchant for self destruction.
tags: Shijima Go x Chase, hurt some comfort.
trigger warnings: descriptions of suicide and self harm. This also contains spoilers from the last episode of the tv show.
It started before he even left Tokyo.
When the dust settled and he poured a cup of coffee. The ceramic scalded his hand. But he couldn't bring himself to put the mug down. He could only hold onto it tightly, the painful sensation made him feel present. More present than he had been feeling ever since the parking garage.
The second time wasn't intentional either; cutting his hand while chopping vegetables for Kiriko. It was the last night before he took off, a family dinner she said. But he could only look at his bleeding hand, the same sensation washed over him. He didn't feel like a visitor in his own body anymore.
Go didn't have time to think about it, at least that was what he told himself. He tried to throw himself into research alongside his mentor. He needed to bring Chase back, that was his driving goal.
But every time Go was left alone with his thoughts, they got too loud, yet so distant. He felt like a stranger, to his mind, his body. Chase shouldn't have been the one to die. Go was sure of it. The sins of his father should have ended with him, not with Chase, an unwilling participant.
He played with the pencil sharpener on the desk. Harley had already long gone to bed. But Go's eyes remained blurry and unfocused on the monitor in front of him. They hadn't been successful. In fact, it almost looked like it would be impossible.
But it couldn't be. He couldn't fail Chase again. He refused to fail him again.
His frustration bubbled up like bile in his throat, the edges of the sharpener began to indent his skin.
It hurt.
And Go found it easier to focus. He blinked once, twice. Then he looked away from the screen and at the small tool in his hand. Small screws kept the blade in place and he half questioned what he was thinking, but his thoughts came second to searching for an appropriately sized screwdriver.
The sting to his thigh calmed his senses, even when his jeans rubbed against the still fresh wound. It only served to help him more.
“You're focused today!”
Go smiled.
“I have renewed vigor!” He looked so proud, he felt proud. He found a way to get himself back on track, back to focusing on the thing that mattered. Whenever the lines of code began to blur or the schematics stopped making sense, Go dug his fingers into the wound to his thigh. He could feel the skin split open and ooze, but it always worked.
Months had gone by. There was no progress. He'd raided countless warehouses and laboratories for information or materials to help them rebuild Chase. But none of it seemed to work. And the cold biting winter was certainly no help. It only served to dampen his heart further.
Go could see his breath as he looked out over the city. The roof he stood on had such a nice vantage. Would he like it too? A frown graced his lips and Go felt the weight of the world descend on his shoulders.
It seemed to be impossible.
His heart stung. It hurt. But it wasn't the good hurt he had become accustomed to inflicting on himself. It was something else, an emotional ache that squeezed his heart until there was nothing left.
Go considered jumping.
He wanted to.
He really did.
He looked down over the edge. The ground was so far. If he fell off the impact would likely kill rather than maim. He held his arms outstretched. He felt the wind in his hair, the cold spread through him.
But if he jumped, who would bring Chase back?
So Go stepped away from the ledge. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. He looked up at the night sky, the twinkle of stars far above him. He reached up. Would Chase have enjoyed just watching the stars with him? He smiled. But there was no hint of happiness.
Months slowly bled into years and his drive to revive Chase never once diminished. There were many more roofs and many more dangerous situations. But he'd always stepped away right at the last moment. He always kept his jacket on now, even more than before. And he couldn't remember the last time he felt comfortable going swimming.
He tried, and failed, to find love even.
But.. Go stared at the razor in his hand, pressing his thumb against the edge. He was glad when it didn't work out. It was sick of him, he knew that. She cited he was too focused on the past to care enough about their present. Their present. Like they had ever been a team, they weren't, Chase was on his team not-
Go sucked in a deep breath. It was for the best anyway. He didn't have to worry about her seeing his scars. He was losing focus again. He couldn't afford that. Couldn't afford to stop working. He made a promise to himself two years ago. And he was so close. With Harley, Rinna, Hypnos’ help. Chase was within his grasp, he knew it.
Which was why he couldn't stop now.
He bit his lip as he pulled up his sleeve, he eyed the scars on the inside of his arm. Most were pale enough to fade away, but some, when he had been particularly upset, were large and jagged, raised scars. The familiar sense of calm determination and focus filled his body as the sensation brought him back to earth.
It felt good. It was consistent. Go knew what to expect every time. At least it wasn't killing him, it wasn't alcohol or drugs. It was harmless in comparison to what it could have been. That was all he needed to tell himself to convince himself.
It was all he needed to press a towel to the wound and get back to work.
They had failed again.
And it was driving him mad.
They forced him to return to his apartment, forced him to get rest. He was of no use to Chase if he wasn’t sound of mind. But Go hated it. He hated being treated like a child. He wanted the roidmude back. More than anything now.
But the way he now stood, eyeing himself in the mirror on the back of his door. It reflected the body they’d built strung up in the Drive Pit. Both so lifeless, devoid of any greater purpose than the one directly in front of them.
Except only he breathed.
The tears pricked at his eyes, they burned hot. He couldn’t even stand to look at himself in the mirror anymore. It had been nearly three years. Three years and he still hadn’t figured it out? He was still losing to Banno.
His hand closed tightly around the razorblade in his palm, the edges slit his skin, bringing upon him the familiar sense of calm. The only calm he could rely on. Go let go of the breath he didn’t realise he was still holding.
Go spared one last glance at the reflection, his eyes trailed over the scars visible on his arms and thighs, the ones under his chest. His expression was one of silent resolve. He would do whatever it’d take to bring Chase back. Even at the cost of himself, his physical and mental wellbeing. Go would give it all up just to see his friend again.
The scars were just a stepping stone.
He wasn’t positive it would work this time either. He only half heartedly watched from his desk in the pit. His head rested in his hand as he watched Rinna and Kyu boot up the system across the room. He was so sure it would fail again, like it had so many times before. Just the knowledge he would watch the body hum, electricity crackling, only to fall silent again.
The urge scratched at the back of his throat like an addiction, but it wasn’t. He shook his head. It was nothing more than an inspiring mechanism. He rubbed his tired eyes. He just wanted Chase back. There was nothing wrong with-
“Chase?” Rinna’s voice trembled with surprise. “Go! Go come here!”
Go practically fell out of his chair, he skidded slightly but managed to catch himself. He quickly crossed the room, stopping in front of the machine holding the roidmude’s body up. Chase stared ahead, at least Go assumed, it was hard to tell.
“Chase?” He repeated Rinna’s question.
“Yes?” He tilted his head to the side.
Rinna turned to Kyu, picking him up and spinning him around as they laughed. But Go wasn’t focused on them, he was focused on the man in front of him. Go’s hands shook as he brought them up his body, resting on his chest, hand on either side of the nameplate.
It spelled out Chase.
He refused to number a person this time around.
“Are you really back?”
And Chase lifted his hand, looking over the machinery. It resembled his original body perfectly, Go made sure of that. Made sure he would at least be in something that once belonged to him, even if he adopted a humanoid appearance again.
“You brought me back.”
“WE brought you back,” Rinna corrected, eyebrow furrowed.
Chase lowered his arm and nodded. “Thank you.” And Go could immediately tell he wasn’t sure what to say. Go stopped touching him, afraid he was the one making things uncomfortable.
It was just.. He worked so hard for this. For this exact moment.
“Oh.” Like he realised something. Go watched his body change in real time, up close. What once annoyed him, he now found interesting. Oh how things had changed in over three years.
Chase looked at him, head slightly tilted. Go couldn’t read his expression. Was he disappointed? Happy? It was so hard to tell with Chase.
“Let’s..” Go cleared his throat and turned away from his friend. Friend. “Let’s run some diagnostics and then we can all head home.” He announced the plan with a grin. His heart raced in his ears. Chase was back! And if everything went well, he could stay back. Every part of that was exciting.
His apartment was cold when he finally got the door open, cursing the hinge in his secondary tongue. He hated this place but it worked as a sort of home office. He gestured to follow him and Chase crossed the threshold into the apartment.
Go shut the door behind him and then kicked his sneakers off. “Make yourself at home!” He announced as he walked into the connected kitchen, dropping his keys unceremoniously on the counter. Chase bent down, taking his boots off and lining them up neatly by the door.
“This isn’t what I expected.”
“Oh?” Go looked around them and then shrugged. “Neechan says I have ‘American Tastes’ when it comes to decor.” He explained halfheartedly. Chase gave a nod and took a few more steps into the apartment, seemingly analyzing every inch of it.
“You can use my bedroom, I don’t mind the couch.”
Chase looked back at him, head slightly tilted in a way that made Go’s heart flutter when it shouldn’t have. Damn it. Now wasn’t the time. And in his dismissal his mind immediately turned to the blade tucked safely in his pocket.
“I don’t require a comfortable space to power down.”
“You’re my guest. It’s customary.”
Chase seemed to accept that as an answer. Go gestured for him to follow him down the hall, opening the bathroom door and flicking the light on.
“Bathroom.” He basically crossed the hall and opened a second door and another light. “Bedroom.” Go ran a hand through his hand and Chase nodded before he crossed into the bedroom to explore it further.
“I’m gonna take a shower! If you need clothes, my closet’s there, take whatever.”
“Thank you, Go.”
“Any time, buddy.” Go dipped into the bathroom before he could chance looking at Chase’s face. He shut the door with his back and then slid down it. He did it. He accomplished everything he wanted.
But he still didn’t feel himself.
Go looked up at the ceiling, watching the yellow light flicker. He thought a piece of him would come back when he brought Chase back. The piece of him that died the day he watched his friend sacrifice himself. And then the second piece that left when he watched Chase fade away all over again.
The tears were streaming down his cheeks now but he had to be quiet. He covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, silently sobbing into the white fabric. He was back, he was alive and he was fixed. But it still took almost four years.
Go still lived where Chase had died.
He quietly pushed himself off the door and towards the tub, he still kept his sleeve against his mouth and used his other hand to turn the shower on. With the shower on he let go of his mouth, then proceeded to let his head fall onto the ceramic edge of the tub.
It hurt. But it didn’t hurt enough.
He exhaled a breath, then took his jacket off, exposing his skin to the quickly warming room. His shirt went next as he sat beside the tub, his original intention turning into an excuse. Go reached into the pocket of his jacket and grabbed the blade he kept within.
Go turned it over in his hand, staring down at it. It had served him all these years, pushed him further, encouraged him not to give up. It was the closest friend he managed to maintain in his pursuit.
He originally told himself that once Chase was back, he’d have no reason to keep up this habit of his. But it made him feel something akin to relief. Like torturing himself would make up for the sins of the past, the sins of both himself and his father.
The following sting was a welcome relief.
He couldn’t help himself, even as the days flew by, even as Chase grew comfortable. Kiriko was so happy to hear they managed to bring him back, Shinnosuke excitedly welcomed him back, they both immediately treated him like family.
It was exactly what Go wanted! It was everything he wanted.
But he wanted more. He wanted more and his desire disgusted him.
And he turned the emotional disgust into something physical, something tangible.
He had never been this covered before. And he thanked his latest relationship completely falling apart. Nobody had to see him but him. Nobody could feel the same disgust towards him that he felt towards himself.
Go had to sneak around Chase, he offered to help him find a place of his own. But he liked it apparently, and Go wasn’t going to kick him out on the curb. But he did have to sneak around.
“Go, before you leave.” Chase had grabbed his arm and the photographer had to swallow his yelp. A soft sound escaped him but that was all. “Sorry, did I grab you too hard?” Chase let go immediately.
He could feel the wound reopen under his white jacket.
“No, just shocked me.” He smiled. It hurt. He really didn’t want to ruin his jacket. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to know if we could go to the park when you got back.”
“The park?”
Chase nodded. “Yes. Kiriko said I should get out and enjoy nature more. She thinks it’ll help with my understanding of humanity.”
“Yeah, sure. We can go to the park.”
He had to leave quickly, hoping the supplies he’d need to wrap the injury were still in the ride macher.
But of course, they weren’t. He’d already emptied it out. Go cursed his luck but refrained from kicking his bike in frustration this time. It wasn’t the poor thing’s fault.
He did have to go back upstairs though.
He tried. He really did. He tried to be quiet but Chase was far too observant, too sharp, too keen. Too beautiful, too- Go shook his head and pushed by the roidmude and directly into the bathroom. He shut the door then turned the light on.
“Are you alright?”
“Just gotta piss!”
“Okay.” He heard Chase walk away.
Go quickly pulled his jacket off, inspecting the damage. A deep sigh of relief escaped him when he noted that it wasn’t too badly stained. It didn’t bleed through. He tossed his jacket down and inspected his arm. Several of the cuts reopened and he almost felt stereotypical. He was embarrassed.
With his jacket off and his shirt black, Go pressed his thumb into the cuts, watching them bleed. It was like he was entranced, he could only watch the outcome of his self hatred as it bled down his arm. They were large, they had to be. The smaller ones weren’t getting anything done anymore, and he promised himself it wasn’t an addiction.
His unaffected hand covered in blood now, he winced at the burning sensation. But it felt so good, he couldn’t stop himself. Go let out a shaky exhale as he dragged his nails down his arm, prompting the wounds to open further.
What was wrong with him? First his feelings about being the survivor. Then his sudden need for relief. Then his feelings for another man. What was wrong with him? Go wasn’t sure, but maybe it was the karma of having Banno as a father. He couldn’t tell.
He didn’t know when he started crying either.
Go barely had time to dodge the door opening, sliding backwards and out of the way just in time.
“I smell blood-”
Chase stopped mid sentence, mouth remaining open, but silent. His eyes immediately landed on Go’s arm. That Go quickly hid behind himself, ignoring the now all too loud blood dripping to the tile floor of their now shared bathroom.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“My understanding may be limited, Shijima Go, but I am not stupid.”
Go bit his tongue. The way he said his full name still sent shivers down his spine. It was pathetic, he was having a moment during this? He tried to snap back to the moment. The very real moment. He had finally been caught out, after almost four years. Someone finally caught on.
And of course it had to be Chase, he thought bitterly, if anyone it was always going to be Chase.
“Who hurt you?”
“Nobody, Chase.”
He stepped forward, careful of the blood on the floor, careful of Go’s jacket. He looked confused as he leaned to try and look at Go’s hidden arm. When Go didn’t budge, he resigned himself to looking in his eyes instead.
“If nobody hurt you, how are you hurt?”
Go swallowed thickly.
“It isn’t important.”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
He caught on even faster. It was a pain. Go sighed though.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Go didn’t have a good answer, he knew he didn’t have a good answer. Why did he do any of the reckless things he does? To feel something? To be someone? Go had no idea, he had no idea and so he didn’t have an answer.
“Go, why are you hurting yourself?”
“Because it’s something I have control over!” He snapped suddenly, far harsher than he meant. He quickly averted his gaze. “Because I can.” He said in a much softer tone than before. He pulled his arm from behind him and instead cradled it against his chest.
“Please don’t tell Kiriko.” He dropped to his knees in front of Chase, head tilted up at him with worried eyes. “Please. Don’t tell anybody.” His voice cracked as he begged.
“Go..”
Chase hesitated, he was clearly unsure. His usual expressionless face was filled with something Go couldn’t even begin to read. But he looked down at him, and it was then Go noticed him chewing the inside of his bottom lip. Had he really picked up that habit in the time since he’d been reactivated?
“Okay..” But Go could tell he didn’t like it. “Please let me tend to them, at least?” He could compromise on that. Go carefully stood up from the floor, he still held his arm to his chest for a moment. Nobody had seen. Nobody. He made sure of that.
But here he was, presenting his arm to the man he cared for more than anything.
“Go.” But Chase trailed off, cold fingers running along the space just beneath his inner elbow, he touched the faded scars there. “There are so many.”
“I know.”
And he finally felt sorry for the fucking mess up he’d become. Maybe the one he always was. He felt sorry that Chase had to see him like this, see a true part of the Shijima Go hidden behind the curtains of dramacy.
Chase had him sit down on the closed toilet, arm presented to him. He worked efficiently at least, worked in silence. He grabbed the medkit from under the sink and placed it on the counter of the sink. He then wet a towel with warm water and began to clean up the blood on his arm.
Go watched him work, watched his furrowed brow, lips pulled into a tight line. He was so beautiful like this. Go wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him. But he couldn’t. He had to stifle those feelings. He had to. He couldn’t ruin whatever little relationship he had with Chase.
Just being close to him had to be enough.
It wasn’t long before Chase had his arm cleaned and bandaged expertly. He was even already cleaning the floor from the blood. Go couldn’t really move, sitting on the toilet lid, holding his now bandaged arm to his chest.
“I’m sorry I made such a mess.”
And Chase blinked. Then looked up at him. He was pretty on his knees too.
“It’s okay.” He got back to cleaning and an awkward silence befell them.
Go licked his lips, and looked around the bathroom. What could he do? What could he even say? Sorry I cut myself, I’m a suicidal freak?
Several minutes passed as Chase finished his final task, cleaning up and putting away the medkit whilst noting which supplies needed to be refreshed and which were fine. Go didn’t move an inch. He just sat there and watched, like a scolded child in timeout.
Chase closed the cupboard door and then stood up. He looked at himself in the mirror, and once more there was a look that Go couldn’t place.
“Will you keep hurting yourself?”
“Better than hurting somebody else.”
“You’d never hurt somebody else.”
Go laughed, head tilting back. His grin was sharp, but it wasn’t all there. It hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe even before Chase died and left him to pick up the broken pieces of his heart all alone.
“Tell that to my ex girlfriend.”
“Did you physically hurt her?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
Chase scoffed and the sound was almost out of character. Maybe the situation really was that bizarre.
“Then it isn’t the same.”
And he was right, Go knew he was right. Unless it was one of those heartless roidmudes, Go wasn’t likely to hurt another human being unless absolutely necessary. He knew Chase viewed things the same way. Fighting was reserved for necessity only.
“Then that means you’ll keep hurting yourself.”
“Probably. I can’t stop now.”
“I don’t understand how you gain pleasure from self mutilation.”
Mutilation. It was such a strong way of phrasing that. It was just some self harm. It didn’t hurt anybody else, it didn’t restrict him, at least not usually.
“I just do.”
Chase’s grip on the sink was stronger than the man on the toilet lid though, pieces of the countertop cracking as his grip tightened. He seemed to realise his mistake, quickly releasing it and uttering a quiet apology.
“What does it matter really?”
“It matters because-” And Chase looked confused this time. Like he wasn’t sure how to word something. Like his thoughts were moving too quickly for him to decipher, Go had shared this expression a few times.
“I don’t want you to die.”
Go chuckled, leaning his head back against the wall.
“I won’t die from it.”
“There was so much blood.”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“No, not now. Then.” Chase averted his gaze and it took Go a moment to catch up with the quick thinking robot. “When Banno… Almost killed you. You were so hurt.” Every word that spilled from his lips was spoken with hesitance, as if he wasn’t sure he even wanted to say it.
“That was how I knew you’re injured.”
“You.. Remember the smell? After all this time?”
Chase nodded.
Heh, it was romantic in a way. To be so ingrained in the roidmude’s senses. But it also broke his heart. He wasn’t the only person that lost something that day, he wasn’t the only person who gained a new fear.
“Please stop.”
Go felt a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to stop. He did. For Chase. Because Chase wanted it. And he wanted nothing more than for Chase to be happy. But he wasn’t sure. He let his head fall, looking at the wall across from him.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Try.”
And it was the first time Go had ever heard Chase beg.
having a freeze response to stress is so funny in the context of normal adult stressors. millions of years of evolution are trying to tell me that the email will not find me if i stay very still and do nothing
i'm a cleric. i heal people, i save them, but i haven't always been sucessful at keeping everyone alive. i had a friend once - back when i was younger and less experienced, and i failed to save him back then. his presence haunts me. his absence even more so. and i don't react well to reminders of him, i get a little violent, alright? just reminders of him at all.
so, the other day, when i saw someone that looked exactly, exactly like him... i jumped him, i clawed and attacked his face, and i'm pretty sure i've left a scar on his face for life. but i... i couldn't help myself. i saw him. it was him. so how could i... have reacted any other way?
