His alarm rang, despite stirring from consciousness and recognising the tone he allowed himself to fall back asleep. There was no other sound in the house, as he was the only one in there and only the fridge's humming disrupted the silence. Five minutes later his phone went off again, this time there was an angered yell from next door, the thin walls of his apartment were banged upon. He released a heavy sigh and he finally bothered to get himself to sit up.
He was tired and still in the clothes he wore last night when he crashed on the couch. The meal he hadn't finished eating left a strong and disgusting scent in the air, yet he seemed unaffected. More so, he was used to it. Still he stood up, slipping off his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom adding to the piles of dirty clothes scattered about.
As he removed his glasses to get in the shower, his gaze lingered on the dusty mirror for no longer than a second. A slight hiss released from his mouth, the water beating down on him was chillingly cold. He couldn't bring himself to care anymore and cleaned himself quickly. To him it felt like a chore, but he knew it was a necessary part of going into the outside world.
He stepped out of the shower and decided to ignore the slow dripping water from the showerhead that just wouldn't stop. Once he dried his body he shook his head like a wet dog, unwilling to apply the effort to dry it properly. He pulled his work clothes out of the laundry hamper and gave them a sniff, he really should have washed them but he hadn't. They've smelled worse before he figured as he got dressed anyway. He was already going to be late so he skipped out on eating and went right to brushing his teeth. Time and energy went into squeezing out a dab of toothpaste decent enough to be used. He put on his glasses with his free hand, the one occupied with scrubbing his teeth quickly felt heavy.
The screaming arguments above him and incessant meowing from his neighbour's room are familiar sounds so he simply blocked them out. Nothing made him feel engaged, nothing made him feel anything. Akashi Kuniyuki was a lot of nothing. He'd be the first one to describe himself as a waste of space. He didn't see it as an insult but an honest observation.
Doing nothing, thinking about nothing and being nothing were the closest things he could think of as goals in life. He was an adult man living on his own, he didn't involve himself with others so he had no friends or lover and barely even kept in contact with his parents. Sure enough, it's a miserable sounding life, he knew that but couldn't bring himself to care. He had no aspirations or motivation to try change his life and wasn't the type to try suicide, so he had resigned himself to living as simple a life as he could until his time was up.
When he exits his apartment, his gaze remains on the ground. Pretending he doesn't see the limping woman or the man with a stained knife. He pretended to not smell the death and despair, or maybe he was just used to that too. A nothing like him living in such a dead-end apartment complex just made sense and the rent was low enough he didn't have to exert much effort to meet it.
The walk to his workplace, an unremarkable convenience store, blurred right past. He walked the path often enough he didn't have to put in any thought towards the way there. He finally entered the store, the soft bell rang out behind him and alerted his co-worker of his presence.
"Still alive then, Akashi? You look like a walking dead man." The golden gaze locked in on him held concern despite his words being teasing.
"Sorry." Akashi replied on instinct, a lazy unapologetic smile spreading across his face out of habit.
Akashi joined him behind the counter and clipped on his name tag. Nikkari Aoe was a man like himself in being low in society, but his green haired co-worker was fundamentally different, as he had not given up. His eyes still had fight in them, he still made something of himself in volunteer work and not being put down by the shunning of others. He couldn't be bothered feeling anything resembling envy towards him though.
The work night passes slowly. Regular customers, some with friends or simply on their own. They buy what they want and move along with no problem. They're never especially busy, but getting enough customers to prevent Akashi to fall asleep where he's standing. Not enough to keep Nikkari busy from trying to chat with him some more, it was always just meaningless conversation to pass the time anyway. As they shared no interests it was usually a very one sided talk about Nikkari's paranormal investigations or whatever person had caught his eye lately.
That was another difference between them, it was only something small but Nikkari had interests. He still had something to fill his time with, he wasn't like Akashi who was simply living. Maybe once or twice he wondered what it was like to feel passionate about something. He didn't like to dwell on the past, so he didn't think back on anything to find an answer either. When time came for their shift to end and the new workers to switch out with them, they finally parted ways.
That endless blur of passing time is what made up his life. By this point, he was well indifferent to it. He never even considered the possibility that it would ever change.
His walk home was no different to usual, his limbs felt heavy after expending energy he really didn't have. Loosely hanging off his fingertips was a plastic bag containing the onigiri that didn't sell. It was still dark out despite the early hour, he relied on the dim street lights and his familiarity with the path to get him back to the apartment. He wasn't afraid of getting lost, just getting involved with something unnecessary.
But when he stepped inside the building, gliding past like usual to reach his apartment for once he stopped. The static of nothing that usually buzzed on his mind was interrupted by a grumbling stomach that wasn't his own. He glanced down, grey eyes meeting tired green. They belonged to a child, he knew the child by appearance alone. For one, he was one of the only children in the building, and he was certainly the only one with white hair. His face was slightly red, likely from his stomach being enough to stop Akashi. He shouldn't have stopped, shouldn't have cared, but he did. Maybe it's because they were filled with life, something he wasn't used to seeing. It was strange, and caused him to stare. When he noticed that he was making the kid nervous he looked forward and dropped the plastic bag next to him.
"I was dragged out to eat with a co-worker, these would just be wasted on me." Akashi drawled on.
He heard the kid gasp slightly, and could feel his gaze on him. The last thing he expected to hear was a quiet thank you, although he pretended not to notice. It was easier that way. He scratched the back of his neck with a free hand as he stared ahead.
There was hesitation, but the kid opened the bag and tore open the onigiri, taking a hungry bite into it. Akashi was about to continue walking but halted due to the increase of sound in the room behind the kid. A woman yelling angrily, a man's deep voice rising in frustration. The man's voice was demanding payment, the woman was insisting this wasn't what they had agreed upon. An uncomfortable feeling found itself clawing at Akashi's senses.
"Why aren't you in your room now? It's late." Akashi asked with a sigh.
He finally bothered to look back down at the kid, he was too busy making sure to consume every single grain of rice to look up. He did however slow down to give an answer.
"My mum said she had business with the man she came home with. I had to leave so I'd stay out of the way." He spoke simply.
"Ah! But if I can keep awake I'm sure she'll let me back in when the man leaves." The kid added quickly, looking up at Akashi.
The trust in those eyes, the hope and optimism. All things that really didn't belong in this place. He adjusted his glasses and glanced past the kid at the door he was seated against. As much as he tried to block it out, the arguing was just getting more concerning.
"I… can make the money. My kid he's young and healthy. Good looking enough too, you've seen the pictures, right?"
"Human trafficking isn't our thing…"
Akashi could have sworn everything was running in slow motion. This was far from blending in to the background and avoiding conflict. The cold rush that overtook his body made him want to freeze up and never move again, he didn't want to deal with something like this. He wanted to unhear it. But he knew he couldn't.
He crouched down suddenly startling the boy slightly, he couldn't even imagine what kind of expression had taken over his face.
"Listen kid, I don't know how close you're listening but if you stay here odds are things won't go well for you. I won't be able to sleep if I ignore something like this, so you can hide out in my place for now got it?" He spoke with more anxiety than he would have guessed.
The kid looked back at the door, listening to his mother trying to convince a strange man to take him away. Akashi could only hope he understand the urgency of the situation. As though making up his mind, the kid stood up tightly gripping the now empty plastic bag. Akashi noted how his hands were shaking. He stood up himself, muttering that his apartment was the one across the hall. The kid hurried forward first, he wasn't wearing shoes so made little noise as they travelled across the hall but Akashi still felt full of anxiety. He walked behind the kid, hoping if the door would open his figure would be enough to temporarily hide him.
At his door, the kid looked up at him. His expression gave the impression he was trying to keep a straight face, but Akashi could easily see the sadness on it now. He wordlessly removed the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, ushering the kid in instantly. From the other side of the door Akashi hears a door opening, he now notices the arguing and discussions had stopped. Every muscle in his body felt tense as he stared at the ground as he entered his apartment, shutting the door behind himself quickly.
He let out a heavy breath he hadn't realise he had begun holding in and rested his forehead against the door. What was he getting himself into? He couldn't help but question it yet again. He didn't usually act on these instincts, was his lack of sleep finally catching up to him?
He slowly locked the door and turned around, only now realising the light was on. The kid was peering around at the mess with a scrunched-up face.
"Hey Mr. Glasses, it stinks in here." The kid said in a whisper.
Akashi found himself sighing again as he walked past to his room and opened the door. It was a bit musty due to never being aired out, but it was considerably better than the main room/kitchen combination they were currently.
"You can sleep in here Kid. The door locks from the inside. Do what you want otherwise, just make sure not to wake me. I'm way too exhausted." Akashi told him. Speaking softly himself. The walls were thin but not enough there was absolutely no privacy if you were careful.
The kid was hesitant, but as he watched Akashi take off his glasses and settle himself on the couch his own exhaustion seemed to win over. He walked shakily to the bedroom but paused, looking back even though Akashi's eyes were closed.
"I know how things seem, but my mum isn't a bad person. She's just doing what she thinks is best." The kid waited, but Akashi didn't move to respond.
"And my name isn't kid. It's Hotarumaru."
With that, Akashi heard the door shut softly. Even with his eyes closed he could recognize the waver in his voice. The kid, Hotarumaru, was doing his best to keep it together.
He's too calm and strong for a kid, too forgiving and trusting. It stressed Akashi out as he finally did drift off to sleep he hoped it was just a stupid dream. A nothing had no business getting involved with such a hopeful kid.