Chapter 11: Determination and Separate Sunrises
Nagisa stares at the wall, his eyes roaming in false interest. He is, in fact, not very interested in the beige colored wall. His mind is wondering to what's on the other side, just within a meter of him but unreachable because of a thin but-annoyingly so-present wall. He can even hear what's on the other side, the soft snoring, the periodical creaks of a bed's frame, everything else forms a low, stagnant hum; the ignorable bass of the exceedingly predictable composition.
Listening to this song of sorts seems to be the only thing keeping his anchored at the moment, the only thing keeping his mind from wandering to other things. He briefly turns away from the wall to get a glimpse of the retro clock sitting on the cream-colored bedside table, its cruel hands seemingly unmoving on its ivory face, mocking him as it appears to stay on the same time for hours on end. At a quarter till five in the morning, the sun is still refusing to rise while the eternal crescent moon sits in the far west, milking its reign over the sky.
At this time, Nagisa Shiota would normally be asleep, not staring at a wall. In fact, as soon as he and Karma came back from their midnight excursion, he had simply curled up into the bed and fallen asleep like an infant. And, only minutes later, -like an infant-he woke up. Unlike an (regular) infant, his waking up came with a rapid heartbeat and breaths coming out in short pants. Such symptoms can only be attributed to a wet dream or a bad dream. Unluckily(?), he got the latter.
While he did not remember the depressing short burst of an overactive brain in a tired body, there was a deep, familiar imprint of emotion in the back of his mind. Finding the onslaught of emotion's source brought on a tip-of-the tongue-feeling for Nagisa, a feeling the blunette, like many, was not really fond of. So, he waited until he fell asleep again. This time, the dream was much more vivid, leaving a deeper and easier to understand imprint on him. He woke up with a start, sweat budding on his forehead. Mother.
The word came to the tip of his tongue and jumped off before he even had time to realize he woke up. He didn't want to go back to sleep. He didn't want to close his eyes. Because, now that the source became clear, he couldn't avoid seeing her face anytime he did either of those things. Her face leering at him, doubting his worth, asking him why he's the way he is. It was enough to send a tear trickling down his cheek, enough for him to curl into a protective ball and stare at the wall separating him and Karma, willing the sun to rise again and hopefully scare off the demons that his nightly solitude seemed to bring.
Knowing that Karma was only a few feet away brought some peace to him, a sense of security that kept (most) cynical thoughts at bay. So, now he continues watching the wall, waiting for the yellow beams of light to stretch across the east facing wall.
It's taking too long. It shouldn't be taking this long. The sun should be in the sky by now! I should be able to get up now! Why am I so tired? Why can't I sleep? Why do I keep seeing her face? So sleepy…can't sleep…it hurts. I don't like this.
A few groans and huffs escape his lips during his inward rant and, to make matters worse, the quiet orchestra on the other side of the wall has disappeared. Nagisa curls further into himself, a few tears edging out of his eyes as they mourn the loss of the peacefully humming music, mourn the loss of his momentary anchor. The young blunette has been homesick before and could even remember his younger self being carried away on his father's back a few times in the dead of night after failing to complete a sleep over.
But what he's feeling right now is more than fear of being away from home, it's a fear that despite being away, home's still following him. The thought sends a shiver down his curved spine and he grips his sides harder, failing to notice the creak of a door opening, not realizing someone has entered the room until they're already seated on the bed beside him.
"Nagisa?" The voice scares Nagisa more than it should and he scampers to the floor. Mother…she's really coming to get me.
The thought reverberates through Nagisa's mind with terrified amazement.
He looks up at the dark silhouette leaning towards him from on the bed and squints. As logic prevails, he realizes it's not his mother on the bed, as she would never direct a worried expression his way, dark red eyebrows creasing confusedly.
"Karma? Why are you in here?" The question comes out quiet, the blunette being quite reluctant to speak. Instead of an answer, Nagisa receives an outstretched hand, waiting to be grabbed and to be of use. Nagisa takes him up on the nonverbal offer and gets up onto the bed, deciding not to curl up into a ball despite wanting to disappear from the scenario.
The two sit in silence momentarily until Karma speaks, still choosing not to answer Nagisa's original question, "Are you tired, Nagisa?"
The smaller teen answers slowly, "Yeah…it's not even six o' clock."
"Then why aren't you asleep?"
Nagisa looks up at him after gathering enough strength to muster up a fake smile and says jokingly, "The sky's awake so I'm awake."
"We both know the sky is not awake, Nagisa." Karma intones bitterly, cringing internally at both Nagisa's bad attempt at changing the subject and his choosing to reference that movie in said attempt.
He adds on in a gentler tone, "What's the real reason?"
Nagisa doesn't answer, opting to stare at the floor. Karma looks at him, trying to guess what brought on the silence but not willing to ask the question a second time. For the next few minutes, they sit in silence, neither of them willing to speak.
The blue-haired adolescent breaks the silence, "I can't sleep."
The taller of the two teens is about to ask him to elaborate when the younger of the two does it for him. "I've been trying but I just can't. I'm so tired but I can't close my eyes for more than a blink. Every time I do, I see her face and hear her jeering…I don't want to sleep if that's what's waiting in my dreams."
No tears fall as Nagisa finishes his short explanation and he waits for Karma's response. The bed shifts and Nagisa's pretty much positive that Karma's getting up to leave when instead he falls beside Nagisa on the bed with a plop.
"Why don't we try this?" The voice breaks through the darkness beside blunette's ear and the small adolescent shifts and turns on the bed to be face-to-face with Karma. A blush blossoms on his face like a lily pad blooming during the summer's start.
"What are you doing?" He manages to croak out, refusing to meet Karma's eyes while asking the question. As an answer, the redhead shifts again on the rather small twin-sized bed, lessening the space between them.
"Just try going to sleep." Karma murmurs sleepily, ending the sentence with a yawn. It only takes a few minutes for the orchestra that was on the other side of the wall to resurrect in Nagisa's own room. The blunette can't help liking this situation more.
His eyes travel over Karma's sleeping face. The way its usual sharpness is dulled is a detail Nagisa does not fail to notice. The teen also can't help but notice the way the redhead's lips open ever-so-slightly with every intake of breath. Being this close to the other teen sends a pleasing chill down his spine. He likes the feel of the short spike of exhilaration.
Sometime between desperately trying to stay awake to point out details about Karma's sleeping face and falling out of conscience, something hits Nagisa-this situation is weird. The thought seems to rise in him and swell for a moment, before slinking to the back of his mind as the blunette shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it…only to come back full force seconds later. Nagisa's eyes pop open and he immediately glances up to his oh-so-close friend.
Right, he's a friend, regrettably nothing more and thankfully nothing less. A friend is not supposed to be burdensome to another friend. A friend should return favors, not just take. A friend shouldn't grow flustered every other time he stares upon his like-gendered friend…in his mind, the word "friend" is taking on an increasingly negative connotation.
He studies the redhead's face for the second time that night and a slight (barely recognizable) blush settles on his face for a moment. A part of him would just love to bury into Karma's chest, fall asleep, and forget the thought that is torturing him. The same fraction of his self would even rather focus on his mother's indestructible home in the back of his head than talk about the current issue at hand. This bit of him is loud and boisterous, carrying a boldness that Nagisa's own oxymoronic timorousness usually smothered without a second's hesitation.
Another part of him, the more diffident, yet more expressed and heeded part of his personality sits silent, it's constant presence speaking louder than if it were to actually let it's temporarily-mute opinions resonate throughout Nagisa's self. The thoughts resonate loud and clear despite Nagisa wishing that they wouldn't-that they weren't even present.
Nagisa scoots away from the larger teen sharing the bed. The small, lonely gap widens as the smaller of the two continues to inch away from the redhead, trying not to jostle him in his obvious state of rest. The blunette checks Karma's face every few seconds or so every time he moves in the bed, watching for any stirs or signs of waking from the source of his present inner turmoil.
When he's on the edge of the bed, he swings a foot-than another-over the side and when he's standing on his two feet, he ponders his decision, proudly evaluating his own self-restraint. But even though he knows what he did needed to be done for his-and possibly Karma's-sake, sadness starts to seep into the cracks of his determination as he stares at the redhead, who's hand is twitching as if to grasp something and Nagisa's hand subconsciously twitches in response. His heart aches even more when Karma rolls over on the bed, a barely recognizable frown forming on his sleeping face as his hand continues to itch for something that's not there.
Nagisa turns away, sure that he if he continues to observe his friend his determination will waver to a point of dissipation. Set upon his decision, he approaches the wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room, its withering frame loaded up with typical guestroom blankets and pillows that looked as if they hadn't been touched since they were placed in the burdened object.
He grabs a pillow and blanket to match, shifting so nothing spills from the chair and nothing falls from his hands. He takes his necessities and sets up a small sleeping area on one side of the room, away from the bed where Karma carries out his reprieve, his sleeping self slightly disturbed at his subconscious realization that the bed is emptier than it should be. But, Nagisa considers silently, maybe this is how it should be.
The blunette lowers himself onto half of the blanket and wraps the other side around his curled-up body. And, as his head hits the pillow, he reassures himself redundantly that he was right to make this decision.
Soon, a second peaceful orchestra starts in the small guestroom, leaving both of their own soft pieces intermingling and lining up in tense but oddly serene harmony.
Karma is the first to wake, bringing an end to the quiet concert. Sun rays make their way through the window, cruelly making a home of his scrunching face. His sleepy gaze roams the room once and gets a surprise when he realizes that he's not in his room but instead in the sparsely decorated guestroom. It occurs to him that this is not a place he would normally sleep. His minds dwells on the topic, finally offering an explanation when it remembers the events from the night before.
He glances to his side, getting a shock when there's no small statured blunette sleeping there. It comes to him that his friend might have gotten up already to make breakfast, an activity he is sure that Nagisa enjoys more than most males his age. One whiff of the scent-lacking air contradicts this thought easily, though.
His eyes roam the room curiously, wondering as to where his blue-haired went to. Quickly, he takes note of the blanket-clad lump near the entrance to the closet, rising and falling subtly in a breathing pattern. Lethargically, he peels himself from the bed and makes his way to the not-so-inconspicuous lump.
Thinking hard as to why his friend is on the floor rather than being in the bed with him, he pulls a part of the blanket away from Nagisa's sleeping form. The blunette stirs quietly at the action and a minute grimace makes its way onto the face Karma's so used to seeing with a shy smile. Rapidly, the grimace grows and his eyebrows fold, unfettered by the teen's unconscious state.
Almost instinctively, he reaches out and cups the side of Nagisa's face, studying him with a worried expression he realizes he rarely shows for anyone but the effeminately-framed blunette. His mind reflects on last night's events and he grows increasingly positive that thoughts of his mother are plaguing his sleep.
What never occurs to the quite intelligent redhead is that he might be the cause of Nagisa's scrunching brow.
Sorry for being absent for so long. Honestly, there's not much of an excuse for why I was gone other than the fact that I was pretty much restricting myself from writing. What I mean by that is that I have many ideas for the stories I'm authoring but I'm finding it extremely difficult to put them on paper or even record them at all. Seriously, this medium-length chapter took a whole month to finish when before it only took a lazy weekend. Anyway, I hope you guys didn't forget the plot between now and the last time I updated.
I hope to be more diligent,
Palpex
