i walk the yellow line references for artfight, will update when i make more!! posting for people to grab before artfight happens
Gwen: Artfight Link
Sully: Artfight Link
Dear Johnson: Artfight Link
Author: Artfight Link
Arthur sat down on the low coffee table in front of the couch.
“They called you Riko.”, he offered, clearly trying to stay calm and collected. Riko looked away when his brain produced an image of blood running down from a cut on his cheek. The urges were stronger since he had woken up and he had to call his therapist for new sessions before this got even worse. He didn’t want to hurt Arthur even if his brain suggested otherwise. He had dreamed about it a few days ago. Arthur strapped to a bed, screaming in agony while Riko had sliced him open. He had woken with a fucking boner and had never felt so dirty and bad in his life. Technically he knew he should feel worse about what he had done in his past, but hurting Arthur that way was a far more horrible thought.
“Yeah”, he answered, drowning the urge in the sadness he felt, not trying to think about the possibility of just holding Arthur in this apartment. Thankfully he wouldn’t even be able to do that. “I was called Riko until I was twenty.”
Arthur clearly waited for him to go on, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how or where to begin.
“So… want to tell me why they did this to you? And why you wouldn’t tell the police?”
Did Arthur just want to hear it from him or did he really not know? Riko wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter either way. He had to tell him. Minyard had left him to bury this last knife into himself. He knew that it wasn’t sheer luck that let him survive. If Minyard or Josten had wanted him dead, he would be.
“I’m sorry, Arthur. I… I’m sorry I can’t feel sorry for keeping this from you. I was selfish, but I don’t regret it. I’m just… I’m just sorry for wasting your time.”
“What are you talking about?”
Riko wasn’t able to look at him, so he looked at the ceiling instead and word for word hammered nail after nail into his own coffin:
“I was born into a mafia family. Only first sons were allowed to the main family branch so I was cast out and adopted by my uncle. With him I led an Exy cult. Maybe you heard of Riko Moriyama and the Nest and Evermore. That was me… my brother faked my death and kicked me out of the family entirely. I did… I did horrible things to people… to children. Josten scars on his face aren’t from me, but a lot of others on his body are.”
He swallowed but didn’t stop, because he wouldn’t be able to say anything again if he did. Maybe these were the last words he would ever speak. It certainly were the last he would speak to Arthur.
“I… tortured… them. Josten wasn’t my only victim, not even the worst one. On some days it’s still hard to feel bad about what I’ve done. On some days it’s just like watching a movie and let myself be amused by all the gore that is shown. On some days it is still just… entertaining. I… I am a monster. I would undo all of what I did if I could, but I can’t and I can’t even undo how I feel about it completely.”
Arthur didn’t say anything to any of it, so Riko dug his grave deeper and deeper still.
“On some days I want to hurt you”, he whispered. “See you bleed. Hear you scream. Obviously I am able to control it now, but it is still there. The urge is still there. I’m just a monster waiting for an excuse to wake again. So… yeah. I didn’t tell the police because I deserved what they did. I honestly thought they would kill me, but I think being in pain for the rest of my life is even better. I… I tried being happy with you, but I only have been selfish again. All this… work you had with me. Especially these past weeks. I should have told you sooner. I… shouldn’t have let you near me in the first place. I should have stayed alone. I’m sorry for taking two years from you. I really am. I thought it would be okay to be happy, but of course it isn’t. I’m sorry Arthur. I really am.”
For a very very long eternity it was eerily quiet. Riko’s words were gone and it felt like they would never come back to him. He wouldn’t need them anymore after this. The thought of a therapist suddenly felt childish. He didn’t need one. When the urge would get stronger again, he just had to let it out on himself until he one day would cut too deep.
“I have to go do some grocery shopping.” Arthur’s voice was very quiet. Was he afraid? He should be. He should be afraid of him, of the monster he was. Everyone should.
Riko just nodded and a few moments later, the apartment fell silent again. He would live in this silence now. It was exactly like the time after the nest. He could still remember the days when he suddenly had been alone and nothing.
He knew how to do this. He knew how to wash clothes and how to take care of himself. He didn’t know how to cook, but he could learn. He had been able to learn Exy to a perfection, it would be laughable if he couldn’t learn how to chop things and how to cook them so they would become a meal at the end.
But he didn’t know why to do any of it anymore. There was no practice he had to do good at, no team meetings with his team or the professional teams he was playing for. No training for court, no teammates who would fall upon him like vultures as soon as he showed some kind of weakness. There was no father or brother to impress, no one who gave a shit about him. Not that there ever had been anyone. Kevin and Jean, his brain provided unhelpfully and he nearly laughed about that nonsense. Kevin’s interest in him didn’t go farther then his worth as an Exy player and Jean… Jean… Jean wasn’t even worth thinking about. He had been a toy, nothing more. You didn’t cry if a toy didn’t love you back, what a stupid sentiment.
He didn’t leave his apartment for a long time. It felt wrong, going out alone. So he never learned anything, because he didn’t have things to shop. He just ordered food.
When he lay awake at night, he watched the wall opposite of his bed. The wall where Kevin’s bed should have been, but it was empty now. Just space that wasn’t used and never would be. If he just hadn’t thrown that fit. If he just hadn’t broken Kevin’s hand. Everything would be fine now. Wesninski would have died somewhere on the road like he had been supposed to and he and Kevin would have played court. Everything would be perfect now. If only these assholes hadn’t thought to pitch Kevin against him. To find out who was better. Idiots. Incompetent fuckers. they made him realise that Kevin had been better, that Kevin held back. Kevin Kevin Kevin, he couldn’t hear anything else. Everything had been about him. No wonder his father hadn’t been interested in him - the second best. Second all his life. Second son, second best at Exy… disposable. A failure. Not even a honourable name had been given to him. Even his gender had been only the second best. If he had turned out to be a girl, he could have stayed in the main family. Second in everything. He hadn’t been able to take it anymore.
A month in his new apartment and he smashed it to pieces. He started with his dishes and cutlery then sliced his upholstery open, ripped his cushions and pillows apart.
It had been his neighbours who called the police because of the noise. When they found him the apartment was a mess of broken dishes, dirty ripped up clothes and he had several cuts on his hands from god knew where. He hadn’t washed himself for nearly two weeks and in his blind rage he had attacked the officers. He spent the night in a hospital and was then transferred to a psychiatric clinic. From there on it was years of medication and therapy and slowly… very slowly he learned what he had done and it got worse and worse before it got better even slower. A lot of therapists had given up on him, but at some point he had searched for new ones himself.
At some point he had wanted to get a better person. He clawed his way out of everything at some point, was off medication for a few years now and had finished therapy shortly before he had met Arthur.
He didn’t really think that his boyfriend would really come back, but when the sun began to set he heard his front door click open again. It had been hours and he half expected to see Minyard or Josten again or maybe even Jean. Jean… seeing him as an actual human being had taken ages, partly because he subconsciously had known what that would entail. He hadn’t lied when he had told Arthur that on very bad days he still felt amusement about what he had done to others, but on his better days… on his better days he wasn’t even able to think about what he had done to Jean.
He turned his head in the direction of his front door, but Arthur first went to the kitchen. He really had gone grocery shopping…
It took a few minutes but then he settled down on the coffee table again. This was it then. The final conversation.
“I needed a bit of time to think”, he said like he had to apologise. What an absurd thought. Arthur apologizing for being shocked that his boyfriend was a monster. Riko nodded.
“You told me you were twenty when you stopped. So you were a child still when it started.”
“That’s not an excuse”, Riko said instantly. Because it wasn’t. That was important. It wasn’t an excuse for anything. It didn’t make a difference for his victims. His therapists had tried and failed to explain that the reason why he did things and an excuse were two different things, and that he couldn’t be made responsible for everything he did because of his mental state. It sounded a lot like an excuse to him that way.
“No, but simultaneously it kind of is, don’t you think?”
Riko huffed and looked up at the ceiling again: “Try to tell Josten that. I’m sure he will be understanding.”
“That’s not what I mean, stupid. Of course it doesn’t undo what you did. But you were a kid and no one told you that what you did was wrong. You thought it was okay and normal and… that is something you are not responsible for.”
What was that even supposed to mean? “Most kids know what’s right and wrong.” He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted Arthur to be gone already, this was torturous.
“Most kids live in our society and not in some mafia parallel world.”
Riko didn’t say anything, just stared up at the ceiling. He wanted this to be over. His chest hurt and he felt as empty as when he had realised that he was nothing and noone anymore. That he had lost everything. It had been shitty, but at least it had been his life.
“You signed for a professional team at a pretty young age. You played for two teams simultaneously and had school and later university. That had to be stressful.”
Riko shrugged. Yeah, it had been. So? A lot of people had a stressful life.
“I bet your uncle beat you, when you wouldn’t bring the results he wanted.”
“Sometimes.”, he mumbled. Bad grades hadn’t been an option or if he was tired during practice.
“Always in front of cameras or in this horrible building underground with other Exy obsessed people.”
Riko shrugged again but noted that Arthur probably had googled him.
“Have you ever been to therapy?”
Hadn’t he mentioned that? Was it important? “I had a nervous breakdown four weeks after my faked death. They put me in a mental facility for a while.”
“What was your diagnosis?”
Riko sighed heavily. He was so tired. So endlessly tired. He tried to remember the exact words of his multiple diagnosis until someone was able to pin it down. The ultimate verdict had been: “Antisocial probably sociopathic personality disorder, narcissism and sadism. The latter are part of an ASDP but they liked to point that out specifically. I was part of a few scientific papers as a success story. I probably could find them for you, if you are interested.”
Maybe it was just curiosity on Arthurs part. Whatever.
“So you know that these are mental illnesses?”
Riko shrugged again. Not an excuse, still.
“So when someone’s legs were broken at a young age and no one helped them fix the legs and they grew together all wrong, you would blame them for not being able to run?”
“That’s not the same!” Riko sat up quickly and then fell back into the pillow again with a pained groan.
“It’s not, but it is similar enough. I don’t say what you did was okay in any way, but in all fairness, you hadn’t had a lot of possibilities to turn out any kind of normal. I am not one of your victims, so I can’t forgive your actions, but I think you are allowed a chance in life. I love you, you know that. And I don’t think I would if you still were the monster from fifteen years ago. You never hurt me. Yes, you temper tantrums are there, but you just yell and throw things around. You don’t even throw things at someone. I’m kind of glad to know where they come from, now and I am a bit impressed that you even came this far. That you are able to feel empathy. I can understand that your therapists called you a success story.”
Riko didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. Maybe he fell unconscious and was dreaming? Why had Arthur still had so many good things to say about him?
“Akio… you aren’t just horrible or something. I know you care about others. You helped me through some tough shit with my family and me and our friends like to hang out with you. You are on a good way and I think it wouldn’t be fair to leave you because of what you did as a kid, especially with all that background of your upbringing.”
Riko… Akio? … looked at Arthur and didn’t know what to feel. Was this real?
“You won’t leave me?”, he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “How can you? I… don’t understand.”
“I will need a bit of time to process everything properly but… but I can’t leave you, Akio. I want to ever meet Riko, really, but I love you like you are now. As Akio. Just… please if you still fantasize about hurting people you should maybe start therapy again. Not only because of that, I really am worried about you at the moment. I think the injuries and everything have triggered things for you. So just… I will stay, but… contact a therapist?”
Akio swallowed and nodded. “Yes, anything.”, he promised. He would do anything, if he just could keep Arthur.
Cautiously he extended his hand and smiled weakly when Arthur took it.
