Cheap fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead a bit too loudly to go completely unnoticed by Tsukishima underneath the humming vibrations of the refrigerator compartments lining the dairy and frozen sections of the grocery store. However, Tsukishima speculated that perhaps he was the only one in the vicinity that was bothered by the ringing in the air. He couldn't hear anything besides the high-pitched drone of lights —or rather, his own thoughts murmuring into incoherent noise— no matter how much he attempted to focus on any other noise. It simply continued to overwrite anything else. The sound caught him in a trance, leaving him to stare unfocused concentration up at the blinding illumination until his eyes were filled with differencing spots no matter how much he attempted to blink them away. It felt as if he'd been standing there for hours, or as if time hadn't moved at all. His eyebrows knotted at the building dread forming itself into the pit of his stomach. Sending trills of disquietude to bloom an unnerving sensation of unease in his instinctual gut feeling.
Though just as time had collapsed into a standstill for him, it began once more just as quickly as it had aroused. His attention snapped out of the overall haze of unthinking overthought when a woman pushing a cart with a faulty wheel screeched pass him. A repetitive offkey rhythm of the wheel tracking forward merely to spin around with the resounding whistling din following the off tracks rotation.
Standing there in a state of stunned indifference he directed his gaze back to the mission at hand, staring uncertainty at the chicken-scratch handwriting on the list of necessities he had previously collected before gathering his attention back towards his current task. His gaze wandered back and forth, scanning the contents of the freezers for the item, in particular, he was searching for. When just as he turned to stare at the glass door in front of him he was struck with a feeling of forlorn at himself by the fact that the deluxe box of Garigari-kun soda popsicles he'd been looking for had been directly in front of him this entire time he'd just been standing here.
With a huff at his own inability to find something so simple, he hooked his fingers around the door's handle and got the last item he needed in order to head home. Though he was in no particular mood to hurry home, being that all that waited for him was his grumpy other half and a dirty kitchen to clean and then make dirty once again. But the bubbling apprehension fizzling within him had him on edge. The sensation encouraging him to make quick work of getting out of the rows of shelves and aisles to get to the checkout section as swiftly as the mass of people lining up for the exact same reason would allow.
Tsukishima hummed dissatisfaction at the fact that there was currently only one register open, but knew it was partly his own fault for ending in this situation in the first place since he'd come shopping a hairs breath from a half an hour before closing time. Though there hadn't been any other time he had to spare in the day for shopping so the wait was better than getting nothing at all.
The cycle of beeping signifying yet another object being rung up and the shuffling of moving feet sliding the few steps closer to the register carried a misconstrued tone to follow the still buzzing lights. That merely aided in his anxiety rising as each minute passed. His nerves were twitching with hypersensitivity. It felt as if something bad was lurking around the corner, but by all means, there wasn't a single thing amiss around him, simply shrouded in the lame rotation of mediocre and mundane recycled motion. And as much as he continued to repeat a mantra of reasonability into his unfounded nervousness it did nothing but send tiny intervals of tingling spasms into the joints of his fingers and a persistent tap to his foot against the linoleum.
He stood like that, occasionally remembering to take a step forward to catch up to the front of the line until movements passed like blurred after images. He was at the register quicker than realized, merely to be stuck staring worry at the screen displaying the cost of his purchases. As the number kept rising so did his concern. Tsukishima grew unsure if he had the right amount to obtain everything he needed. Not all of it was necessary—like the popsicles for instance—but it was always so embarrassing not being able to afford everything he'd went through the trouble to grab. Especially when there was a swarm of irritated looking people waiting impatiently behind him. And just as the last carton of milk was dragged across the scanner with an ear piercing ding of finality, a weight was then lifted from his shoulders at the sight of the numbers not going—if only barely—over his current balance.
"That'll be ¥2,370, please." The greasy but kind clerk called out and a timid smile hiding the soft release of relief left his quick work of finding his wallet and paying for his groceries, he awkwardly captured the handles of each plastic bag to work all eight of them in his arms. The weight wasn't an issue, rather, he was more concerned with the threat of them tearing on his way home. As he walked out he had to rearrange the bags multiple times since the ones captured in the crook of his elbows were starting to cut off circulation. Though, luckily he lived close by so he wouldn't have to deal with the bother for too much longer.
The city wasn't as quiet as he had been hoping and did little to nothing to relax his instinctual tension from the high raised stiffness of his shoulders. Every step taken was just the slightest bit quicker than the previous one. By the time he managed to arrive at his block he was speed walking his way down the dimly lit street.
A clenching feeling of paranoia had him looking over his shoulder more times than he knew was reasonable. However the bad feeling had only heightened the closer he got home. Tsukishima's heart was beating against his chest like rapid fire by the time he reached the steps of his quaint apartment building. Fortunately, the weight along the line of his spine eased with the notion of soon being home safe.
As he fished out his keys with what little mobility he had, he considered why he could be so anxious. It wasn't like him to feel this fidgety without a logical reason, but despite it's lack of rationale he trusted his gut feeling.
Once he finally found his keys and shimmed the lock open he could feel all of his muscles give into relaxation of finally being out of the danger that was being outside; even if he didn't know the real reason why.
Discarding the bags onto the floor with the crinkle and shifting of the plastic, he began to take of his shoes. "I'm home." He declared to the empty darkness of the living room. Once his shoes were off he took a moment to stare into the living room, contemplating whether Roppi had gone to sleep already without eating. It wasn't far fetched, he had seemed exhausted earlier today, but he usually waited for Tsuki to return, if only for him to prepare dinner if not anything else.
Grabbing at the handles of the grocery bags he walked towards the kitchen. But just as he was passing the threshold of the hallway he stopped. His eyebrows furrowed and his pulse quickened as he sniffed the air. The scent of metallic copper lingered with the draft down the corridor, reaching him with the force of a shock wave. The bags in his hands fell with a thud against the hardwood flooring but he couldn't hear anything above the pounding of his heart in his ears. His legs moved faster than his breathing did. The air stuck in his chest with that unnatural smell clinging inside his lungs to burn the memory in with the lack of oxygen. He could feel the vibrations of his movements as he ran down the hallway more than he was actually experiencing them. Everything was shrouded in a filter of darkness, he felt blinded as he raced towards the source of the scent still surrounding him, he could taste it on his tongue as he reached for the bathroom door and gasped out a scream of the name that taste belongs to.
The door flashed open too quickly for him to actually comprehend, not when he couldn't even manage to breath in that moment, not when he couldn't blink, not when he couldn't even feel his heartbeat in that moment.
His blurred vision could barely manage to capture the sight of the dark silhouette draped lifelessly still over the stark white rim of the bathtub. In contempt of the lack of lighting he could see the faint glow of red shimmer off the reflection of the moonlight seeping in from the window onto the pool of water filled to the brim within the bathtub. There was a moment, a second of pause, where all he waited for was the sound of a breath, the twitch of a finger or the flash of those dark eyes catching light. But there wasn't movement, only still, suffocating, blinding nothingness that filled him with nothing but a building ache blooming from his chest and stretching every expanse of his body as he finally forced his shock encased body to move forward.
"No..." He choked out, hesitating a step before the next and the next followed in quick rushed secessions to match and emphasize each plea that left his lips. "No, no, nonononono..!" He couldn't feel the stem of pain shooting up his legs when he fell to his knees. He couldn't feel anything besides the encroaching devastation that was closing his throat, burning his eyes, trembling his limbs. "Ro-Roppi!" His hands hovered over the fabric of the other's shirt, scared—terrified—that the only thing he'll sense when he touches him is the chill coldness that painted his skin a pallor white. But the fear vanished as soon as it came because he needed him, he needed to feel him. So with that he reached around the arch of Roppi's waist to bring him away from the tub and into his unsteady arms to lay him against his chest.
A sob ripped through him before he even knew he was crying, tears spread down his face as his fingers skimmed across Roppi cheek. He pulled away suddenly, taken aback by the heat still lingering across his skin. A nauseating pull of hope fluttering like insects inside him. "Roppi. Roppi wake up!" His hand hurried to the crook of his neck, ignoring the pang that unfurled at the sight of his head rolling limply onto his shoulder as he pressed two fingers against the curve of a pulse point.
His own frantic heartbeat was all to be heard, his breathing nonexistent in this moment and his body stock still.
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing nothing!
His fingers were cramping as he pressed down further, waiting for anything, anything at all that meant what was crawling up his throat was wrong. Because this couldn't be happening, this wasn't happening!
They were fine!
He was fine.
He said he was fine…
The smallest of a flutter patterned across his fingers and Tsukishima gasped a shuddered cry, praying he hadn't imagined it.
But despite it possibly being only in his head, his hand didn't hesitate to reach into his pocket and retrieve his phone. His fingers were a trembling mess, though, even still he had never type a number so fast in his life. However, getting the phone to his ear was a challenge in its own right. His chest tightened at the seconds passed while the first tone rang, but a voice was responding on the other end a breath later. "Hello, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice asked, calm and collected, a complete contrast to his shaken consciousness.
"Ple-please my-Roppi-he's—" His voice was choppy and disorganized. "Ambulance!" His head was bombarded with vertigo as he tried to stop himself from choking on sobs. "He-he's still alive, ple-please, he needs an ambulance!"
"Sir, please tell me your address, and I'll send one right away." The voice came only slightly more harsh than before. Tsukishima tried to snap himself out of his stupor. Swallowing his overflowing emotions, he quickly named of their street address. "Please stay in the line, sir, until an ambulance arrives. They will…" that was all he barely heard before the phone slid out of his hand and catered onto the tile. Lungs trimble at the first inhale of air ripping through him. Everything inside him is curling in on itself, like a dry leaf. His arms move to down his lap slowly before he swiftly regathers himself and snatches Roppi's bleeding wrists in his hands. Fingers squeezing as hard as possible without breaking the thin bones within.
They stay still like that for a countless amount of time. Tsukishima's tears had began to collect in the sullen crevices of Roppi's features as he held onto every last faint heartbeat. Entrapped in a muscle shaking, jaw locking, hyperventilating state, whispering apologetic and encouraging words between every exhale he gasped out. Roppi's blue rimmed lips quivered a movement and Tsukishima's trembling ceased. the living room entrance suddenly slammed open with urgency in the other room. Flashes of light flickered in a strobe manner as heavy footfalls echoed through the hallway. Hasty presences halted at the bathroom door and stark white flashlights hissed burning in his tear stained eyes. More light just as quickly absorbed the room and people began to crowd around them. All he could do was stare as they ushered him away, somehow managing to lift him from his knees and onto his aching legs. A woman with sympathy glittering her wide eyes gestured him away. He hesitates as step, eyes distracted with the glossy red stain saturating his hands, before he stops completely. Looking down is a slow process that comes in a sequence of blurred motions. He watches distantly as trained professionals that he knows he should trust are hovering over Hachimenroppi's form. He's lightly forced away from the scene by a gentle though firm hand.
No.
They're taking him away.
No.
No, they can't!
What if..!
What if I never get to say good bye.