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Mitsuru Tenma has always been a down-to-earth and brightful guy; he was always outspoken and without fear of criticism when dealing with others. “Thinking before acting” never resonated with his personality, but he always managed to get along with others and even in dire situations, whatever their kind was, Mitsuru managed to solve them employing his special technique: running.
Ever since he was a little boy, he had always loved running. His friends weren’t like him, always giving up way too early for his tastes, but he was different. He ran and ran, until not a single ounce of breath remained in his tiny body, until his legs couldn’t carry him anymore. He loved trying to run beyond his limits, quite in its literal sense.
That was what freedom meant for him, and while growing up, running also became an escapism of sorts for him, a last resource assuring him comfort; for every step taken running, he felt even more alive. During those moments, it was like the rest of the world was insignificant, as if his speed could make him forsake every worry.
Sadly though, running can’t solve every issue one might encounter, and Mitsuru was in for a very harsh lesson about the real world. True, God gifted him with sane and strong legs, allowing him to properly pursue his idol career (and, obviously his beloved running), but the same could not be said with Mitsuru’s own health. His celiac condition was a silent enemy, lethal if one was too careless, quietly waiting to strike even after years of hiding.
During last year, Mitsuru found out that he was affected by a severe celiac disease.
The fateful diagnosis happened during a routinary health check up, the usual ones he was submitted to due to his idol career, to make sure that everything with his body was in top-notch condition. A blood sample and a series of apparently insignificant events were all it took to change the boy’s life forever, leading him to find out that his body did not tolerate gluten anymore. That meant he could not eat his beloved bread, he could not eat what made him happy anymore.
Similarly to his cherished running, Mitsuru had always been obsessed with bread, ever since he could remember. He did not just like bread, he adored bread. He was always ready to eat bread, as if it was his one and only lifeline, keeping him alive. Every kind of bread was the best bread for him, be it freshly baked bread, crunchy outside and soft underneath, with butter or jam, as a side dish or even by itself.
Mitsuru’s bond with bread transcended his mere need for nourishment: bread was his small little daily pleasure, his solace throughout life’s hardships.
Was that the worst day of his life? How could he manage without eating his most favorite food?
From that day on, he felt as he was not really living anymore. As if he was experiencing a never-ending nightmare he could not wake up from. His classmates and his seniors suggested gluten-free food to try and replace bread, to no avail. They didn’t understand. THEY COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND.
Gluten-free food was just a standoffish imitation of the real deal, it did not have the crispy texture, the sweet aroma, the divine taste he knew and loved. It was just a mere reflection of bread, and eating it was constantly reminding him of his curse, rather that ease his agony.
Mitsuru tried to hide his discomfort, his dreadful pain behind his usual cheerful demeanor, pretending to be his usual self: ready to run, to train with his bandmates, to hang out with his friends or to go on dates with his boyfriend Madara.
Speaking of Madara, he had always been by his side, trying to make him come to terms with his new life. Madara was always reassuring him, with his warmth and his comforting smile.
“You should try not to think about bread, Mitsuru. There are plenty of other things to do together. You know I love you because of who you are, not because of what you can eat.” Those were the words Mitsuru heard the most from his boyfriend, but, while he could hear them, it was like his head was in a completely different place.
Not even Madara could understand the deep struggle he was going through.
Things weren’t bound to get better. Mitsuru’s loneliness kept increasing with every passing week, every moment spent without being able to eat his bread. He was trapped in a treacherous body who could not belong to him anymore. Not even running gave him solace anymore.
Something was changing inside him. The burden of his condition and the ever-present thriving for what he couldn’t grasp were shattering his soul more and more.
His body did not feel like it was his own anymore, he wasn’t able to go beyond his limits anymore. His mind was clouded by sadness, faded with frustration, rage and solitude.
His classmates drifted away from him little by little, as well as his seniors and his Rabits mates. The only one who did not give up on Mitsuru was Madara.
Should it have been enough for him? Madara was indeed THE light in his life now engulfed in darkness but… he could not stand it anymore. How much did they have until even Madara wanted to get rid of someone with a body as broken as his? Mitsuru felt like he did not deserve the love of such a thoughtful guy.
It was a dark night, the moon hiding and the stars nowhere to be seen. Mitsuru was standing on the rooftop of the Yumenosaki High School. He was alone, his brown hair disheveled by the cold wind and his eyes staring vacantly in front of him. The dawn was still far away, and his tiny figure was lightened by the pale streetlamps.
He felt as if the whole world was crushing his soul, his entire being, nothing could keep him attached to his life anymore. He was beyond saving. The pain was too much, his life wasn’t worthy of being lived.
Madara had looked for him all day, asking if he needed to talk, or simply a shoulder to cry on. Mitsuru did not want to listen. He ran away, the only thing he was still capable of doing. He drifted away from Madara’s embrace, from his strong and unwavering arms, which had always been ready to provide a safe haven for his shattered mind.
“You just don’t get it, Madara” The young boy spoke while glancing at the city lights flickering under his feet, his words losing into the wind, the last witness of this dreadful moment. “You will never get why bread is so important to me. Now that I can’t eat it anymore, there’s nothing worth living for.”
While Mitsuru was talking, tears were starting to form at the corners of his eyes. His sight was starting to blur, the night lights becoming more and more colorful and bright. It was a breathtaking sight, something he’d once wanted to share with the person he loved the most in this world, but now… it was too late. He felt trapped by his pain, as if he was the unfortunate prey to a snake’s grasp. He knew his end was creeping closer and closer.
Only a metal railing was separating him from the endless pit he was always bound to reach.
He gripped the cold metal between his tiny hands. The rail was harsh against his palms, resembling that reality he had to face, the reality of his body not allowing him to consume the food making him the happiest. Suddenly, he could hear a voice calling his name from behind. It was faint at first, and he was convinced no one was there, especially at that time of the night. But the voice grew lounder, and it looked like someone reached him, trying to stop his desperate act. Mitsuru chose not to turn around, because if he did as much, he would have to face him, and everything would get so much more complicated. He had suffered enough, and he wasn’t going to live in a world not made for him, he did not want to. Taking a breath, he threw one of his legs over the rail. His destiny was going to be fulfilled in just a few moments.
“Mitsuru!”
That voice… he could recognize it anywhere. It was Madara's voice. He went all that way to seek him, to stop him, to save him from his own destructive self. Mitsuru's eyes were full of tears, he loudly sniffed his tears away, heart full with emotions he could and did not want to control. Madare closed the distance between them slowly, without rush, as he knew how delicate and fragile Mitsuru was in that moment.
Anger, pain, frustration and helplessness, as well as fear, anguish, loneliness and every negative emotion afflicting the little boy's wounded heart were on the verge of exploding, trampling over him. His unfocused eyes lit up at the next call from Madara and Mitsuru turned to face him, finally meeting his gorgeous emerald eyes.
His heart was still weak and he wavered for a moment, once more, under the watchful gaze of his worried boyfriend.
Sadly, his emotions were not the only ones to waver. It happened. A moment of weakness, and Mitsuru lost his balance, he could only watch as Madara's figure moved away from him. He felt gravity attract him to his core, to the earth, the same earth where that substance his body decided not process anymore and rejected was produced. Ironic. He could not even think about bread anymore without bursting into tears, not being able anymore to feel the joy of gnawing at a crispy piece of bread still warm from the oven. And now he would be returning to that same earth. Served his body right.
He was so convinced he could topple his disease, defeating it, but in that moment he understood how wrong he was. If he died now, his disease would have won, it would win and he would just leave a deep void for the people dear to him.
There were so many things he wanted to say to Madara. That he was sorry for treating him that way, from closing himself off to his unending affection, that he was so wrong in choosing to run away and being a coward.
It was too late.
The earth was reclaiming him, like a monster from the darkness, pulling him towards oblivion with its invisible hands.
That's what he was thinking, when two strong hands pulled him from below his armpits, stopping his fall and letting him hang over the empty space under him.
Madara saved him.
As soon as he was once again safely touching the ground with his feet and between his boyfriend's arms, Mitsuru let himself go and cried a river made of all of his tears, exhausted.
Madara let him cry his heart out, for as long as he needed. When he felt that the younger boy was calming down, he lets his hand graze his unruly hair caringly, letting their foreheads touch. Both of them kept their eyes closed for a long time.
“Mitsuru… we aren't invincible. I know it's tough, and we can't overcome it, but we can at least fight together. We don't have to do it alone.”
Mitsuru let his eyes fall to the ground, his head feeling too heavy all of a sudden. A part of him, a very tiny part, was starting to believe that he could escape the immense pain he was feeling and his heart was a bit lighter.
In the middle of the silence, Madara kept talking.
“I do not want to lose you. And I do not want for you to lose yourself.”
Madara’s sincere words were what was finally needed to breach into Mitsuru’s frozen heart, as he gently caressed his soul. Mitsuru wavered again and took a deep and long breath.
He did not have words to express his emotions at that moment, so he just hugged his boyfriend tightly.
The road to healing was going to be long, and probably he would not be able to eat his beloved breath anymore, but he knew that there was something else binding him to life, something that was stronger and intense: love, hope and knowing that even in the darkest moments, he was never truly alone.
And they lived happily celiac ever after.