Bloody and bruised, Ryu stumbles up the steps to his house. Fumbling through the keys, he coughs a fit of blood onto his hands before stepping inside. Ryu looks around the quiet house and sees the kitchen light on. A sinking feeling shoots down Ryu’s spine, one that makes him wince in pain.

Stumbling his way through the hall, he leaves red handprints along the walls. Ryu struggled to hold himself upright, as flurries of coughs took hold. He spits out more blood, the sound of it splattering on the floor echoing through the hall.

Finally, he arrives at the kitchen, where a woman is sitting by the dining table. She has her back turned towards him, with an empty glass and phone on the table before her.

“The ice is in a bucket by the sink,” she whispers, “The whiskey’s right next to it.” 

“Thanks Yeliah,” Ryu splutters, as he limps his way towards the sink. He grabs both items into his chest before joining the woman at the table. Ryu plopped down directly across her. 

Brief moments pass between them before the woman says, “The committee made their calls again. It seems they’re getting quite worried about you.” 

Ryu leaned back in his seat, letting out a grunt as he raised the bottle to his lips. 

“Everyone says they worry, Yel. It speaks not to what they’re really saying.”

“It’s not like you give them any reason not to worry,” Yel cuts coldly, “Given the way that you are.”

Ryu narrows his eyes at her words, wincing as the cuts in his eyebrow tear open. He takes another drink from the bottle with his gaze still fixed upon her. He thrusts his bruised knuckles into the ice bucket, a wave of relief wash through him.

“And what is wrong with a man who fights the world for the right to what he desires?” he mutters. 

“Do you see it that way?”

“I’m sorry you don’t.” 

“I suppose it’ll take a few more failures until you don’t either.” 

Silence falls as Yeliah’s words hang in the air. With a sigh, Ryu takes a longer sip from the bottle to reply, “I’ll take the couch for the night.”

“I thought we told you that the last time was to be your last?” Yel said, ignoring Ryu, “I thought we told you you were not to take this any further?”

“You did.” 

“Yet here you are. Did you not hear us?” 

“I did.” 

“Yet, here you are.” 

“Stop digging, Yel,” Ryu warns, as the pain mixes with his growing frustrations, “A hole is only worth digging into, until you stir what dug it. Until it digs back.”

“Maybe we just care, you know?” Yel spits, letting loose her frustration at Ryu’s stubborn attitude, “Have you ever thought about that?” Maybe I pester and dig, because I just want to see you be alright.”

“And what would your worry ask of me?” Ryu snaps, his anger seeping through, “Must I now magically become well? So I may help you feel more at ease?

“It asks nothing of you.” 

“You say that, only to stare at me with those demanding, disapproving eyes.” Ryu bites, “You say that, then form your sentences around hints of “Don’t be this” and “Don’t do that.”

Ryu rises from the table, stepping into the kitchen. He leans against the countertop as a fever sears across his forehead.

“Let me remind you, that your worries are your own doing, Yel.” Ryu said, “They do not allow you to direct me. You mean something to me, but it does not entitle you a seat at my table. Certainly not if you’ll be using it to satisfy your selfish need to feel at ease.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Yeliah hisses, “Selfish? All we do, we do at your every whim. We allow you to be yourself, if that’s what it takes for you to find closure. If that’s what it takes before you see the truth, and join us in reality. I’m sorry it’s selfish to want to see you be okay!”

“BUT YOU DON’T WANT ME TO BE OKAY!” Ryu roars. He brings a fist down on the countertop with a loud crack, “You just can’t stand to see me be a version of myself you don’t accept.”

Yel falls silent. Caught, completely off guard.

“Closure? Reality? You’ve forgotten your place, Yel. You all have. Forgotten that the place you hold, was given unconditionally.

Yet with time, you’ve all grown bold. Now, you believe you’ve earned the right for a say in who I am. You wrongly believe your positions warrant even the slightest whisper on the matter.”

Whirling around, Ryu meets Yeliah with the gaze of a man she did not recognize. An introduction, that Ryu saw no reason to put off any longer. If she would not listen, then she would see.

“You think me a fool? Think I do not know what you whisper in the dark? I know you believe me foolish in my ways. Believe that in time, I’ll stop being this stubborn fool, and come do it your way. Live my life, your way.

But you could not be more deluded in your beliefs.”

The cuts on Ryu’s head rip open as his movements grow sluggish. Blood trickles down his head, streaming into his eyes. His veins pulsed as his breathing grew hollow and irregular. Despite it all, Ryu summoned what strength he could to bring a finger to his chest.

“I stop when I say I do. Not because you predicted I would. Not because you said I’d grow out of this ‘phase’ you see it to be. And most certainly not because you suggested it.”

Yeliah glares at Ryu as her lips curled with hurt, “So much for a righteous man who welcomes all into his heart out of kindness.” she cut, dismissing his statements, “So much time spent meeting foes in the nightlight, you don’t even recognize those of allies.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ryu scoffs, “See it, when I hear it. Hear it, when demands no longer follow the questions.”

Ryu steps over, reaching out to grab the bottle of liquor from the table. He took another long gulp,

“If I woke up tomorrow, and decided to set the world ablaze, I’ll turn the skies black with smoke if it so pleases me.

If I woke up tomorrow, and decided to cry my eyes dry, I’ll wail a thousand rivers to drown this world in my sorrow.

If I woke up tomorrow, and decided I wish to be free of obligated conformity, I’ll hang the thickest rope around the thickest branch, and see which one snapped first.

If I wake up tomorrow, and decide I want to be whatever the hell I want to be, you’d have but three options.” Ryu said, holding up three bloodsoaked fingers.

“Sit, and watch. Turn, and leave. Or I can burn you down, and the wind can carry what’s left of you to a place you’ll find less ‘worrisome’.

Just because you say you worry, does not make my pain hurt any less. I’m not obligated to ease your worries; I’m obligated to find my peace.

If you won’t join the tide with me, then I’ll meet you like a wave meets the boat that sails against it.

I’ll sink you where you stand, and be gone before you hit the ocean floor.”