It felt like death. The sudden hitch of his breath, the way his heart pounded in his ears, the way his nape was damp with sweat - and the most - the hollow of the gun-barrel piercing at his eyes. Oh.. I- Takaba gulped. His head buzzed. He felt lightheaded; as if he was a piece of cloud—drifting away from the sky. And he couldn't feel his nails digging into his palms. The sense of oncoming death was what drove him, and the thrill of it all was the dew of his life.
And death is a man with golden eyes.
.
This is the end.
.
And somehow; Akihito's hands weren't shaking from that fact.
.
"...A-Asami." Why?
The man's pearl whites shone in the white blinding light. Winds picked up their pace. The grass beneath his feet were damp as Takaba tried to back away. Asami wore a sneer on his face, and eyes were drawn in, chatoyant with menace and malice. Akihito felt needles in his chest.
His figure is like a distant lighthouse. And Akihito's stomach churned. He felt the tart taste of bile in the back of his throat.
As winds blew his hair away from his face, Asami sighed.
He tutted, peering down on Akihito.
"No hard feelings."
Akihito felt red.
ーBANG.
Akihito woke up with wide eyes. Scanning the suddenly unfamiliar room, Akihito's heart was pounding. His throat felt parched. Like he had guzzled sand down his throat.
.
What... the actual fuck?
.
He turned sharply towards the side of his bed. No Asami. The place is deflated, still warm. Asami must've left recently, Akihito thought. He breathed slow and steadily took in air. (A certain blog search later-that had mostly to do with sex than else-he discovered this helped with paranoia.) His hand stroked the indented bedside, trying to assure himself that this is reality.
And he failed.
His heart still pounded.
Red hot adrenaline swam in his veins.
A scowl took place on his face. Brows furrowed, he thought of seas and sea foams (they always helped.)
No. Not even that was working. Then again he couldn't exactly go out and search for Asami. Who knew—that guy could be out selling drugs or something.
.
Or out killing people.
.
Takaba could feel his face drain of colour.
Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think —DAMN IT ALL!
He threw away his blanket, and scrambled towards the door. He didn't look to check if the blanket had landed on his bed. His feet thumped against the wooden floor. Thump. Thump. Thump. Every little sound made him jerk and sent a shock down his heart.
Lights of the kitchen were on. Asami-?
He panted. Cold sweat stuck to his brow.
Is this okay? What am I doing? Why am I doing this? What will happen? How will it happen - oh, I am running to a man who can kill me for self gain.
Akihito ripped open the door. The sound echoed down the hall and rang in his brain.
Asami blinked at Akihito's flushed form.
"Hey-" He started, but quickly shut up when Akihito clamped his hands on his face. "You-!" He almost fell back from the impact and surprise of it all. What was this guy doing up..? He slept like the dead usually at this time of the night.
"You're real." Akihito trembled. "...Right?" The kid muttered as an afterthought.
Asami's forehead sweated. His back felt damp. A cold water bottle chilled his fingers. The white towel hung at his hips, and he felt like showing once more.
He scoffed. "…Why wouldn't I be?"
The kids determined expression softened. Before Asami could note him off as only disturbed and mad, Takaba released a breathy laugh. "Ha.. Ha.. Of course." A shaky voice, wandering eyes, a breathing spell that was not normal. "He - he, I was only joking.." Asami raised a brow. Takaba was nervous? Was that even possible?
"You should repeat that, this time—I'll try harder to believe."
"...mean."
"So?" Akihito didn't retort back like he expected. Asami narrowed his eyes. How strange.
Asami laid his hand on Takaba's shoulder. The young adult jolted at the contact. Forget-me-not blue eyes blinked rapidly, searching for something in Asami's visage. Hazy and dark, with fear.
.
Asami's gun pressed against his temple. The barrel felt cold against his damp forehead. A distinctive scent of Dunhills tingled at his nose.
.
Akihito (yet still!) remembered a time where he used to live for those kinds of thrill. The kind where you aren't only afraid, you are terrified of what's to come next. One couldn't simply jump off a roof to feel them. It was a sort of.. sin, to him. It would've caused damages to those surrounding, and that, was a crime. Thus, a small piece of that exhilaration, he exhorted from some ...lesser than proper actions.
Smoking. Speeding. Stealing. Fighting. Breaking rules-
Akihito was older currently. More sensible. He knew himself well enough to care for his own health and life. He's, well, more ...in tune with himself.
He questioned himself: Then why can't you pick out what you felt for him?
Akihito's eyes were bright and sharp, staring up at Asami.
.
I am afraid.
Of you and and of this all.
.
Asami let out a long breath. He lifted his hand and ruffled Takaba's hair. He understood. The bed-hair, the fearful attitude, the sudden action of making sure everything was realーhe understood them now.
"It was a dream."
It was more of a statement than question.
Takaba peered up at him. All hesitance and cowering. Never what Asami would've expected-not at all. He is like a cat, Asami mused. A cat feral cat with mood swings that has no idea when to do what.
"This," He stroked his hand on blonde strands, "is real." He coaxed. How unlike you, Asami thought bitterly. "Go back to bed."
Takaba licked his dry lips. The air conditioning chilled at his toes and drove up his arms in tremors.
.
Can I really trust you?
.
Golden irises watched him like a hawk. Waiting.
.
Takaba had advanced all this way. To Hong Kong, to Japan, to the middle of the freaking ocean—for what? For what did he roam the streets at night, shivering through the torn holes of his jeans, trying to capture one shot of true crime, trying to protect Asami, for what? All when he didn't even have an insurance for his own livelihood.
.
Am I going to live like this always? Fearing the future?
.
What would be the meaning of the present then?
He was going to be dead anyway. Maybe a year later. Maybe next month. Maybe even a minute later.
This consciousness of his ...would soon be gone. Happiness, sadness, mirth, anguish—they all would happen. And then, he would be dead. And all would be left because he had been waiting for the future. His present would be empty.
Completely ...void.
.
Should he try and escape the inevitable and much expected future or live for the present?
Takaba grimaced. The screech of steel against the floor made his heart jump. Asami's big-big hands guided him towards a chair and made him sit down on it. The plush leather was cold soothing against his tired, aching back.
But what to do with present? Fillet? Or fill it?
With what?
.
"Hey."
Asami sat on another chair in front of him. Cupping his cheeks and squishing his teeth. So painful. Akihito felt the warmth of Asami's palms. And those rough callouses. So scratchy.
And so comforting. Takaba wanted to laugh out loud.
One falls in love with someone because of how they make them feel about themselves.
Asami was well, baffling. And—comforting.
It felt...nice.
Asami pushed a glass of water in his hands. "You need to listen when people talk." He paused. A second, two second and three. "And also, I want a bentō for tomorrow. I'm spending an additional hour in the office. And yes, Make sure to.." Asami continued. Deadpan in his commands.
Takaba drifted off.
.
He felt needed.
.
Maybe not to his world but-
He wanted to fill the present with what he has now.
.
And maybe—just maybe; he can trust Asami along the way.
But not much ...Who knows what that gangsta has up his sleeves!?
.
Bright yellow stars seeped into his stomach. Takaba took a deep breath.
"—ALRIGHT! Who wants midnight sashimi?!"
Takaba scrambled from his spot and sprinted towards the fridge. He ranted, "Fish this, fish that," as he ravaged through the neat and clean fridge. (Asami was too focused a bastard to notice what the blondie had said.) His eyes shined as he found his wanted fish. His demeanour changed entirely. One moment, he was down in the dumps; and he was sparkling the next. Asami faintly wandered if those were actual stars and pink sparkles he saw around Takaba's head.
Well, that escalated quickly. Asami's brows were raised up to his hairline, at Takaba's ridiculously frilled apron. The kid even.. even hummed some low notes.
What was it about cats and mood swings again?
Asami sighed, baffled.
Oh yes... That was it.
'Takaba, the mood swinger cat.'