AN: Summer is officially here! :D Exams are over! Thank you so much to all the reviews (especially the anon ones that cannot be answered to. ;-; ) Here is another chapter of Beige, thank you for sticking with the story so far!
.
.
.
Regardless of having no sleep, Shinichi wakes up at eight and begins Saturday by cleaning the entire house.
Vacuum, dust, wash the bed sheets— anything that he puts his hands on needs to be cleaned or shifted somewhere else.
There's a lot of things to do, he tells himself as he rearranges the many vases around the house. Trembling fingers drop one of them—Kaito's roses scatter on the floor along with the million pieces of glass.
Shinichi gets a broom and sweeps up flowers and broken shards.
A part of him wonders why he accidentally dropped it in the first place. He's usually never so clumsy with these things.
(Staying still for a second too long sends chills running up his spine.)
He clenches his hands, knuckles white around the broom handle.
(It's okay, the roses were wilting anyways.)
.
.
.
Sunday morning, he sits a foot away from the TV.
It's blaring one of those sappy soap dramas that he doesn't care to pay attention to.
(A girl is absolutely love sick and forced away from her boyfriend because her parents doesn't approve.)
He blinks and it's the afternoon.
(He watches people move across the screen—voices screaming, crying, whispering. In the end, the girl hugs the boy and it seems like she never wants to let go.)
His eyes are burning, cheeks stiff from the tears that have dried half an hour ago.
(There's nothing touching about the cliche love story.)
Shinichi is left staring at a slew of commercials advertising about the new Kamen Yaiba movie coming out.
He doesn't pay attention.
(It was just that they hugged.)
.
.
.
There are advantages to living with the internationally infamous Phantom Thief.
For example, learning how to apply makeup—to hide the eye bags and worn shadows, to add a tint of red to pale skin. If he knew how latex works, he could lay some thickness onto the hollows of his cheeks.
(It's not perfect because he's not Kid, or a professional makeup artist. But at least he doesn't look like he's hanging on the brink of death.)
He steps back, closes his eyes, and swallows.
(He doesn't want to open his eyes and look at himself, because—)
Shinichi sees dull blue first before letting his eyes drift across the face of his reflection.
("You're not okay, you're not okay, you're not okay—")
He's fine.
Shinichi attempts to smile.
It takes a few tries before he musters the energy to lift the corners of his lips.
(That's it. Just like that, breathe, smile, and repeat. This is fine. He'll be okay.)
Within several minutes, he has a confident smirk on his face. He's just as lively as he was a week ago when Kaito left for the trip, just as confident.
(It's Kid's Poker face.)
Shinichi puts the foundation back where he found it, the second shelf of Kaito's cabinet. Black dress shirt and slacks, he's well put together.
(It won't break.)
.
.
.
—is what he tells himself when he sees Kaito lugging two large suitcases from the baggage pick-up area.
(Breathe, smile, and repeat.)
Kaito grins when he sees him, "Hey—"
"Welcome back," Shinichi smiles and grabs onto the suitcase the minute Kaito lets go.
(He pretends to not see the slight slump in Kaito's shoulder as his arms fall back to his side—)
"How was the flight?" The suitcase is heavy in his hands, but he pulls it all the same. He ignores the tingle of pain in his legs and hips—he's smiling but breathing through his teeth.
(Don't break your poker face.)
Kaito is walking next to him, a peppy bounce in his step even when he's scoffing, "Terrible. Multiple complications and I was stuck next to a talkative woman the entire flight from LA. You'd be surprised how annoying some people are when they're in a plane—"
Shinichi hums. He's staring ahead at the tiles on the airport floor.
(Twenty steps down the hall, turn left, walk ten more steps and he's in front of the door.)
He shudders and it must have been obvious because the suitcase is taken from him and Kaito is staring at him, eyes sharp and blue.
"Shinichi, are you okay?"
He levels the hitch in his breathing before looking Kaito in the eye. He grins, "Yeah, of course."
(Smiling has never been harder.)
.
.
.
Dinner is a strange concept to him because Shinichi forgets to eat.
(But Kaito complained that airplane food sucks, so they're sitting at their kitchen table with instant ramen and miso soup.)
Kaito is talking about something that happened in New York. Something about the musicals in Broadway and the small fabulous magic shows in theaters and dinners.
And about…
("But I wondered—what would make Kudou-kun scared? What is that one thing that Kudou-kun can't protect with the law he has wrapped around his little finger? What secret is he hiding in that heart? Or rather, who—?")
About…
(Shinichi doesn't notice that Kaito has stopped talking and is staring at him—past him.)
A hand hits the table and the sound makes Shinichi drop his spoon into the porcelain bowl.
(The spoon splashes warm liquid onto his hand, but he winces like it's boiling water.)
"You don't look all right," Kaito says, placing his chopsticks on the bowl. He steeples his fingers and peers at Shinichi with a slight tilt of his head. "…What's the matter?"
Shinichi looks down at the murky liquid, eyes tracing the faint tofu. "I'm… I'm not hungry."
Kaito raises a brow and Shinichi feels his eyes roaming his face, lingering a tad bit too long on his cheeks and eyes. He breathes in, "Shinichi—"
"I'm going to shower," he says quickly. He pushes the bowl away from him and toward Kaito.
He leaves the table without lifting his eyes from the floor.
Shinichi runs to the bathroom, half-way there, he has to put a hand over his mouth.
The bathroom door is shut and locked before he empties his dinner into the toilet again—
Shinichi hunches over the toilet bowl, eyes watery, lips swollen and moist.
("Swallow everything and don't make a mess.")
He hurls up whatever is left in his stomach.
Nothing but bile burns up his throat and drips into the water.
There is a loud tap at the door and Shinichi startles; he holds his breath in.
"Shinichi? Are you okay? What's wrong?" On the other side of the glass door, he sees the blurred shape of Kaito—
("You're not okay, you're not okay, you're not—")
"Shinichi?"
Another knock and Kaito's hand is hovering over the door handle— it's locked, but he is a thief. "Shinichi-? I'm going to come in—"
"No—!"
The sharp rasp makes the blur freeze.
(Don't break your poker face.)
Shinichi clears his throat and tries again.
"I'm okay—I'll…I'm going to take a shower."
.
.
.
It's now a routine that Shinichi showers sharply at 4:00 pm, and takes more of them whenever a ghostly chill climbs on his skin.
(This is his third shower.)
He's finished two soap bars in the past few days and scrubs himself until his hands turn raw and bright red.
Shinichi stands under hot water, head tilted up to the shower head.
It's scalding but cleansing at the same time.
He stands there for half an hour…maybe an hour.
An hour and a half most probably.
He leaves the bathroom with a towel draped around him and his damp clothes.
Shinichi still feels dirty.
.
.
.
Shinichi finds Kaito sleeping in one of his large armchairs in his room.
He's jet-lagged from the flight so Shinichi can't blame him. But by the look of things, Kaito had intended to wait out Shinichi's long shower but miserably failed.
It's eleven nearing twelve now. It's been a week since Shinichi's properly had sleep. He feels the accumulating exhaustion seeping into his bones, every piece of his being screams for rest.
(Shinichi doesn't need to pretend anymore because Kaito is here. The nightmares will be gone because Kaito is here.)
He sits next to Kaito, it's a tight fit but comfortable. He leans into the warm body that smells faintly like mint.
Shinichi weaves Kaito's hand into his, palm warm and slightly calloused. Kaito responds with something like a sleepy murmur.
(The nightmares will be gone because Kaito is here.)
Shinichi, for the first time in that week, tries to have a dreamless sleep.
.
.
.
The dreams haunt him anyways.
.
.
.
He jolts up in the middle of the night with his heart hammering in his chest.
He tries to catch his breath.
(Shinichi stares, eyes wide, at the black figures stalking around the corners of his room. He's paralyzed and can only watch with a scream lodged in his throat— stop, please, leave him alone. Leave him alone—)
Shinichi sleeps—doesn't sleep.
(Yamada hides in the shadow of the curtains, watching. Just watching. A knuckle to his mouth and his smile is stained beige and black.)
His conscious weaves somewhere between his nightmares and the darkness of his room. And Shinichi can't tell if his eyes are open or closed, if he's dreaming or not.
(Shadows, resembling fingers, slither around Kaito's throat.)
Shinichi clenches his eyes and counts the loud beats in his ears. The nightmares will be gone because Kaito is here, he whispers under his breath, because if he says it enough then—
(Yamada laughs.
The shadow starts to eat away Kaito's body.
Shinichi screams but there's no sound.)
He's clamping onto Kaito's hand all the same.
.
.
.
Kaito wakes up first because he's thirteen hours behind in New York Time.
.
.
.
At six in the morning, sunlight slowly filters through the curtains.
A soft cushion under his head eases the pounding in his temples and there are layers of warmth piled on him. He feels warm and closed in.
(The weekend is over.)
The relief pulls Shinichi's eyelids close. He slips back into brief darkness because he knows he has one more hour before he has to get ready for school.
(It's Monday again.)
He twists to sleep on his side, the tension slowly releasing its hold on his muscles. It's a comfort that he hasn't felt so long—
(It's Monday again.)
Shinichi bolts upright. He stares at the sea of bed sheets that he's swimming in and he sighs—
(It's Monday.)
.
.
.
Kaito is downstairs making breakfast.
There are two empty plates on the table, a plate of toast and a slice of butter held in a dish. Kaito's back is turned as he makes scrambled eggs and sausages.
"You're up early," Shinichi remarks and he slides into one of the chairs with a prick of pain in his side. He picks at the metal fork laid on a strip of napkin.
Kaito glances at the plate near his elbow before emptying the eggs onto it.
"You should be in bed." His tone isn't sharp but Shinichi flinches anyways.
Kaito turns, plate of food in his hands. There's a downward crease in Kaito's eyebrow as he places the food in front of Shinichi and sits across him. "You didn't have enough sleep last night."
He's studying Shinichi, his movements, the twitch in his shoulder when Kaito hits the mark dead center.
Shinichi feels completely unwrapped, exposed, under the gaze.
(He knows, he knows Kaito has a lot of questions.)
Shinichi picks up the fork and spears a piece of egg on the plate. He doesn't lift his eyes but shovels it into his mouth, teeth scraping against the metal. The egg is painful to chew and swallow.
He grabs the toast and stuffs his mouth with a couple large bites.
Kaito's eyes turn into a slight glare— but the moment passes over when Shinichi meets his eyes.
He muffles his lie, "I'm feeling fine."
(But Kaito doesn't ask.)
.
.
.
He knew he shouldn't have eaten so quickly.
Shinichi finds a public restroom on the way to school.
He gets to school at 8:15.
.
.
.
At school, he counts his breath because it's the same—
(Good boy, come here, swallow, repeat—)
It's after five and he's home. The door is open and Kaito is making dinner that Shinichi will hardly touch.
(Breathe, smile, and repeat. His poker face can't break.)
.
.
.
Kaito puts food on his bowl as usual.
"Sorry, I had a snack before coming home," he says when he refuses the piece of chicken.
Kaito smiles paper thin, breath brittle. "I see."
.
.
.
"Help me," Shinichi says before he thinks, and he hasn't made a mark on the crisp folder paper in front of him.
Kaito looks up from his textbook, pencil in his hand and he's drawing a layout of a room with dark dots littering it. His finished homework juts out from between the other page.
"What's wrong?"
("Everything.")
Shinichi inhales, and blinks down to the physics book propped open in front of him.
("There's someone who does things to me— It hurts. Make it stop. The dreams, the nightmares, this— Please, please make it stop, Kaito—")
Instead, he points at the third problem.
"Here."
Kaito stares at him for a little longer and releases a small sigh. Something resembling a smile spreads over his lips. "All right…"
(Kaito can't know.)
.
.
.
"Shinichi."
He has his heart in his throat and he's stepping away. Hands on a random book pulled from one of his library shelves, Shinichi ignores the way Kaito is peering at him.
"Is there something you would like me to know?"
He flinches away from the hand that is reaching out to touch his shoulder. Shinichi scoffs like the Shinichi he used to be.
"What on earth are you talking about?"
(Help me.)
Kaito chews his lower lip. "You just seem really distracted—" He's carefully picking his words, eyes darting to the side and he's staring hard at the bookshelf. He ushers Shinichi to the hall before asking—"Did something happen when I was gone?"
"No, it's just cases and things," Shinichi lies under his breath. He turns away from him, rifling through the pages of the book.
Arms drape around his waist and Shinichi tenses at the touch. Kaito tucks his head into the crook of his neck, breathing shallow but steady.
(Yamada leers over him, hand twisting the bone in Shinichi's arm, staining purple bruises on white skin. He breathes—)
"Don't hide from me—"
("—Kudou-kun.")
The book drops from his hand and Kaito's breath lifts from his neck and to the side of his head.
"…Shinichi?"
He elbows Kaito back and squirms away to pick up the book. "Sorry, I have things to finish."
"…Well, I'll…"
Kaito lets the words fade into a breath. He takes a few steps back and Shinichi hears light thuds stepping out from the study room.
(Help me. It hurts, make it stop.)
"Shut up," Shinichi whispers to the voices in his head, but it doesn't keep the tears from falling.
.
.
.
AN: Thank you so much for the very thoughtful reviews! They are really lovely to read and a great encouragement.
We hope you enjoyed this chapter~! Until the next update!
-Yoyoboyo Inc.