Got u dancin' with the devil

The next morning Sanzu woke up on the floor of his bedroom, still in the same clothes as the night before. He rubbed the crust out of his eyes and picked his head up to look at his bed, "Where's Y/n?" he asked out loud to himself. She said she was going to sleepover after she went out with her friends. Alright let's rewind. What the last thing I remember from last night? That guy's wife showed up to the bowling alley and then....and then...fuck. What the fuck happened last night?

He walked downstairs and into the kitchen where Ran, Rindou, Koko, and Kakucho were. He began to pour himself a cup of coffee, "Hey guys what a night huh?" he laughed awkwardly looking at the guys surrounding the kitchen island. Kakucho looked him with no astonishment, they all expected this, "You don't remember anything do you?"

Sanzu laughed, scratching the back of his neck in embarassment, "Nope, haha, nothing."

"You're fucking shameless. Here you go dickhead." Koko threw his phone to Haruchiyo, he looked at the screen and saw the play button. He raised an eyebrow in amusement to the other guys. They usually record me so we can all get a good laugh the next day. Why the fuck do they all look so serious right now?

He pressed play, the video started with Koko standing behind the kitchen door, hand in the direction of the entrance. His back was facing the camera and he was leaning on the wall by the stairs. What the fuck is this? Senju was standing a little further into the room looking terrified. Y/n standing with only one shoe on and a painful look in her eyes, "You called me a slut!"

As the horror of a video progressed Sanzu was uncontrollably shaking; he had to lean on the counter to keep himself from dropping the phone. The video finally finished and Sanzu placed it carefully on the counter, not even handing it back to Koko. He slowly walked by the other men in the kitchen and went out onto the deck. He rushed to the wooden railing and vomited. When his stomach emptied he fell to his knees and screamed until his voice gave out, uncontrollable tears streaming down his face.

For the next week he tried calling her, no answer. He tried going to her dorm but without her or Senju with him he couldn't even get into the building. He'd wait outside for hours to try and catch her or his sister. He never found them.

The guilt was eating him alive and he kept himself full of Percocet and Xanax; he didn't want to feel any of this. He didn't want to feel anything anymore.

Two weeks had passed and Senju went to the Bonten home. "Sanzu I need you to pack up anything you have of Y/n's." She threw a cardboard box at him. "I don't have anything." he lied, that's all I have left of her, those shirts, the lingerie, the pictures and the stuffed animals I got her, I'm not giving those back.

"Whatever you know what, whatever it is she doesn't even need anymore."

Sanzu looked over at Ran and nodded his head towards Senju who was picking the box back up, his eyes pleading. "OH," Ran exclaimed a little too obviously, "oh, um, Senju where is Y/n?"

"She's gone."

"What?!" Haruchiyo spit up the beer he was sipping on. Senju rolled her eyes, "Yeah, gone, she moved. She isn't even in Japan anymore."

"You're lying." NO, no, no, no there's no way. She said she loved Tokyo, she said she'd spend the rest of her life here with me. Senju had come prepared, knowing that this conversation was going to happen eventually, "You need proof, here." She held her phone up, it displayed an email sent to her phone and a video attached, she opened it and pressed play:

Y/n was swinging on a hammock, bright sun on her face and it looked like sand under her swing. She was smiling and smoking a joint, "Hey Senju, quick question, it's a riddle actually: what's better than being on the beach? Being on a beach in Greece, stoned, hahaha." Quick motions made the image shaky and Nami's face was on the screen "HI SENJU! Look at this sexy bitch!" The camera focused back on Y/n while she was climbing out of the hammock in her skimpy bikini, "Stop! Give me the phone back," she was now back in control of the video message, "anyways I love it here, I don't think I'm ever coming back. Please come visit us as soon as you get the chance. Love you!"

The video ended. She looks so beautiful. She's so far away. She looks so happy, without me, she's so happy without me.

Sanzu looked back to his sister, "Tell her she shouldn't be smoking that shit." and he went back into the house slamming the door behind him.

That night all Haruchiyo could think about is the last thing he said to her, "you'll come crawling back." She's not coming back. He cocked his gun and pulled the trigger. He gambled his life in a game of Russian Roulette alone in his room. If I'm still alive does that really count as winning?

For the remainder of that year, Haruchiyo drowned in lines of his usual vices but experimented with everything he could get his hands on. If it was offered to him, he took it. Days bled into each other with no direction or sense of reality. One night he had seen Y/n dancing on a pole in the strip club Bonten had purchased. He got up from his section and ripped her off the stage. "Y/n! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the girl in his arms shook and spoke, "Mr. Sanzu I think you have the wrong person." It wasn't Y/n. His mind was always playing these tricks on him.

She'll come crawling back. Do I have a soul? I mean we said we were soul mates. But do I even have a soul? If I do I won't make it into heaven. I already had it.

He won another round of roulette that night.

Almost a full year since the break up and Haruchiyo had overdosed for the first time. His search for fulfillment had engulfed him to the point where he spiraled out of control. If he slept, he would dream of her so he spent what would've been their anniversary date six feet deep in cocaine. He went into cardiac arrest. He was revived by a doctor that worked under Bonten.

Still lost and roaming for something to fill the pit in his stomach with, Sanzu needed a change. He convinced everyone in Bonten to get matching tattoos of Mikey's choice, and he placed his on his forearm. Somewhere he could always see it, just look down and there it is: a reminder of who he is. After that he sat in a stylist's chair. She loves my hair. Loved, fuck, she loved my hair. "You sure you want to cut it all off?"

"Yeah go for it." The hair stylist grabbed some hair from the top and chopped. "Stop!" Sanzu panicked. "I, fuck, no I don't want it all gone." The stylist gave him a blank stare and took a deep breath, "Alright, I can work with this. Mullets are making a comeback anyways. You still wanna dye it or are you going to take that back after I put the dye on your head?"

Sanzu's temper never improved over the years, and he was quick to snap, "And if I decide to take it back you're going to fucking work with that too."

The change in appearance was another brief moment of bliss to cover his true feelings.

The years following their break up was full of moments of fleeting euphoria for Haruchiyo. He danced with the demons of his addiction, never really processing his emotions. All temporary highs and her words ringing in his mind, "the high is worth the come down." It never was.

He had been arrested once, assault and battery after a nasty fight in a club. The man he had attacked looked like he was dancing with Y/n. Sanzu was drunk and convinced it was her. He was thrown in a cell in the police station. He had started coming down and detoxing in that cell. It was 12 hours of pure hell for him, until Akashi bailed him out. He was right back in his bedroom snorting up powder in no time.

He had overdosed again after taking too much morphine. He had been having nightmares for years. Every one starting the same, he was making love to Y/n. It always felt so real and he'd kiss her soft and sweet. Then he'd pull away to look down at her, and she'd be covered in blood. She'd have stab wounds all over her or bullet holes riddling her body. And this fucked up bloodied version of the love of his life would look at him and ask, "Is the comedown worth the high?"

He'd wake up and get sick instantly. So he started taking morphine before bed, the percs just didn't make him drowsy anymore.

Sanzu was lucky the Haitani brothers had no disregard for his personal space. Rindou and Ran had found him on the floor of his room choking on his own vomit and dying.

Five years had passed since Sanzu Haruchiyo had pushed away the only woman he ever loved. He lived his life without a home. Bonten had successfully become the number one criminal organization in Tokyo. They had a number of businesses to clean their money, plenty of people working for them. Haruchiyo never had to yearn for his vices. He had a penthouse apartment full of the drugs he depended on. With success, money, women, power, confidence, he rarely lost control of his inner demons. He had perfected his cocktail of drugs to send him into paradise so he didn't worry about another overdose happening. He had everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed. It was all at his fingertips, easily accessible to him. Almost everything. I don't really have everything I want or need now do I? Is the high worth the come down? Sometimes he would still play Russian roulette alone in his room.