Harder
A/N: All righty, I'm halfway through Cerberus Revised's Days Without Sun and I shit you not dudes I am more than a bit spooked. (Not that I don't love the story) So forgive me if this latest chapter seems a bit erratic here and there…I feel like I've been dallying on such an important bit for too long… :P Enjoy Akihiko's own enjoyment of his realization while it lasts, buddies, cuz you know as well as I do that it kinda gets worse from here…and please do read the note I'll be inserting at the end, because it's sorta important for the story ^_^
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'Cheering-up charm, remember?'
His own words swam back to him through his daze and he grimaced. Almost makes me wish I was a kid again, so that sort of thing would be excusable.
Takahiro's hand was clammy and tepid in his own larger one, fingers laced together in a gesture that was most intimate in that the dark-haired teen was completely, blissfully unaware of the intimacy. He was contemplating his shoes and had been for five minutes now.
Akihiko spoke tentatively, voice soft enough that it invaded the rain-stabbed silence without completely slicing it. 'The funeral…'
'Just a bit of a ceremony', said Takahiro tonelessly. His voice wasn't yet a whisper, but came disturbingly close nonetheless. 'The bodies—' his fingers clenched, tightening the grip he had on Akihiko's hand. 'The bodies were—almost entirely disfigured—not exactly fit for a traditional funeral…they're just going to be cremated, and…they're just going to be cremated. Yes.'
He lapsed into silence again.
Though I hate to ask… 'And why exactly did you leave your brother behind?'
'I didn't', said Takahiro immediately, his voice showing signs of life for the first time since he'd shown up on Akihiko's doorstep half an hour ago. 'My aunt took him for the day; Misaki's still a bit out of it. It'll take him a while to understand, so now when we get everything else sorted out…it's probably best to keep him somewhere else…'
He faltered briefly, then resumed, 'I mean, somewhere happy…for the time being…'
The rain hadn't let up for almost forty-eight hours now. The same rain that had caused the death of Takahiro's parents just hours ago. Akihiko glanced at his clock, which told him it was a bit past seven in the morning; he'd rushed to Takahiro's immediately after the call.
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'Moshi moshi…' mumbled Akihiko into his phone. It had taken him every ounce of willpower he possessed not to throw the phone to the opposite side of the room; the only thing that had prevented him from doing so, in fact, was the caller ID.
'Akihiko?' The voice on the other end was shaking and considerably higher than what Akihiko was used to. He frowned groggily.
'Takahiro?' he yawned. 'What is it? It's like six…in the morning…'
'I know', came the reply, even shakier this this time. Takahiro sounded completely unlike himself; his voice was frail and tiny in a way that immediately chilled Akihiko's stomach. ' I'm sorry, I—I know it's early, I…sorry…I'm sorry…'
'Takahiro, are you sure you're okay?' he sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep off his eyes. 'You're sounding a bit strange.'
'Hey…Akihiko?'
'What is it? What's wrong?' Akihiko was fully awake now; Takahiro clearly had something on his otherwise happily zoned-out mind, and the change was alarming in ways that few other things were.
'Is it okay if I…come over?'
'Damn it, are you okay? I mean, sure, come over, but what's wrong?'
'Thanks…bye.' The line disconnected, leaving Akihiko to stare at his screen and think.
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Takahiro had arrived a while later, disheveled and more than slightly wet by the rain. His explanation had been that he 'forgot an umbrella'. Akihiko wondered, watching him now, how he'd even remembered to change out of his pajamas.
While bending over to remove his sodden shoes, he'd tottered so heart-wrenchingly that Akihiko had steadied his shoulders for him until his trembling temporarily subsided. As soon as he was calmer, though, he'd grabbed Akihiko's hand with feral strength and hadn't let go since. Considering the news he brought with him…Akihiko wondered why he hadn't just fallen completely over by now.
Takahashi Takahiro…eighteen years old, would-be M University student, orphan. The thought roiled in Akihiko's stomach as he realized that if Takahiro planned on raising his brother himself, as he had said he would, there was no way he could go to M University. Or any university at all.
He felt his own hand tighten around Takahiro's until the grasp felt quite painful even to himself, and Takahiro looked up from his footwear scrutiny to regard Akihiko with dully questioning eyes.
His eyes exactly match the rainclouds just now. Looking at the boy beside him, however, Akihiko doubted these particular clouds had had the chance to shed a single raindrop. He tried to make his voice as gentle as possible as he said Takahiro's name.
Takahiro nodded in permission to continue.
'You haven't cried yet, have you?' asked Akihiko softly, half-hoping that he would be drowned out by the renewed vigor of the storm. He gave Takahiro five seconds before giving in to the urge to squeeze that little hand again.
Takahiro was almost chuckling as he shook his head. 'I haven't had time.'
'You aren't going to have time later', said Akihiko, suddenly stern. 'Don't you think it's best that you let it out for good, rather than carry it around with you and look so lifeless?'
The silver-lined orbs widened slightly, then drooped as eyelids sunk over them, but Takahiro gave no other indication that he had heard Akihiko until he found himself pulled roughly into a hug. Akihiko didn't blush, not for a second, as he placed his chin atop the sleek dark hair and held the other boy close.
'You have time now', he muttered, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. He felt hesitant hands rise to his back and all at once Takahiro was clutching at him like his sanity depended on it. Akihiko thought of the life his friend had led, thought of the change that had forced itself upon him overnight, and realized how untethered he must feel.
Change.
'That's right', he found himself whispering. 'Just hold on.'
A realization feathered its way into him like smoke; that if he planned to see the Takahiro he had known and loved—yes, maybe loved—ever again, he would have to let his friend hold on for a very long time. And that no matter what—no matter how hard Takahiro tried to walk beside Akihiko again, he would inevitably find himself carried. The thought soothed him and terrified him in its certainty that things would never be the same now.
He was certain that something had changed.
Change.
As Takahiro relaxed into the embrace and his shoulders began to shake, a hand was placed on the back of the blue-black head and soon, his ear was directly beside Akihiko's heart. Here's the change, Akihiko's mind was saying.
His heart was saying, let him listen to my heartbeat and know that I'm alive, and I'm still there.
His heart was saying, let him hold on to me for as long as he needs, for longer, even, for as long as it takes to put that smile back where it belongs.
His mind was saying, I am in love with Takahiro.
His lips had nothing to say; they moved soundlessly, wordlessly, sightlessly. They mouthed things that Akihiko did not understand and ghosted empty words over the ears of the boy who was now sobbing in his arms. His hands were numb against the fabric of Takahiro's shirt as he lowered his eyes, then closed them completely.
The rain crashed down around them and he heard nothing else.
He tasted nothing besides the predictably bittersweet afterglow of resolution.
He smelt nothing but the acrid vacancy left by a destroyed spirit.
As he held Takahiro, he shut off his senses, one by one, until nothing was all that remained for him to perceive; in his splendidly agonizing isolation, though, his heart still pounded against his ribs and he knew. And the aftermath of such knowledge was less exultant than it was frightening.
If tears were sliding down his own face into Takahiro's hair, he would never bring himself to admit them.
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Sometime in the unanchored hours between Takahiro's departure from his house and the closing of another day, his hand had crawled over to his phone and the digits materializing on his screen pieced into Hiroki's number. The reception, still shaky, aged Hiroki's voice by about twenty years as the growly 'moshi moshi' crackled over the line. Akihiko shivered involuntarily, remembering how similar the previous night's call had been.
'Mom and dad are out tonight...'
'Hiroki?' Akihiko's voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use, but otherwise unnervingly calm. His words, however, contradicted his tone in the most magnificently unprideful manner as he found himself sitting upright in bed, clutching his phone with both hands now and trying to bite back the panic.
'Hiroki, that is you, isn't it?'
'Yeah, why wouldn't it be me?' Disoriented and dazed as he was, Akihiko could nonetheless hear the sneaking concern in Hiroki's voice. It sprayed over his jagged edges and eroded much of his seemingly motherless tension. Hiroki is still the same. Hiroki hasn't changed yet.
He shook his head, then chuckled blearily. 'Nothing. Just…feeling weird.'
'Weird? Tell me about it', came the reply. 'Guess where I am now.'
Akihiko was in no mood to guess at anything anymore. 'Got to pass.'
'I'm in Tokyo. I moved my stuff this morning, and mom should be coming tomorrow to drop off the things I forgot.'
Akihiko was unable to reign in his surprise, even through his haze of half-formed emotion. 'Why the hell would you move already?' he asked slowly, voice so normal it stunned him. 'I thought you were supposed to stay for the weekend?'
'I was', grumbled Hiroki, 'but I've got absolutely nothing to do. Hah, beat that—for once in my life I have all the time I'd like and not a fucking thing to do with it. I figured it'd be easier if I just came already. Have to at some point, and at least I know you're here too. Back home I've received enough advice about living alone that I could write a manual about it. This has gotta be better. No one to bug the pants off—'
'Hey, Hiroki', said Akihiko suddenly.
'What?' Hiroki was petulant now; it wasn't often that Akihiko interrupted him.
Despite the knowledge that still roared hungrily within him, Akihiko hesitated before speaking for several reasons.
If I say this now, it'll become true.
If I tell him, I'll finally have moved. Moved completely and correctly away from inevitable disaster.
If I say it out loud, I'll be confirming that I might very well be walking into another disaster now.
If I don't tell him…
I will break.
The fear was bending him in half.
'Hiroki, I'm in love with Takahiro', he didn't say, finally. Not immediately at least. Frantically sweeping his turmoil into a distant corner to keep it at bay for just a while, he instead asked what he'd inexplicably wanted to for years now—'Hiroki, have you ever been in love?'
The silence was deafening.
'No', came the reply then, neither too quickly nor too late. 'Why do you ask?'
'Because I'm in love with Takahiro', Akihiko whispered, and his finger snaked to the 'Disconnect' button and pushed gently, completing the last move he needed to make.
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A/N: Okay, been a while, please review, yakkity yak yak. But what I actually need to address here is that most of you, I'm sure, have by now realized that this story will ultimately climax (in more ways than one, fufufu) with the blindfold scene (not that I won't have a few epilogue-ish chapters after that). Now considering that said scene is not only going to be my very first lemon, but a highly handicapped and sensitive lemon at that, if it doesn't make like the Fourth of freakin' July I'm going to go hibernate in the Himalayas. Therefore I shall need lots, and by that I mean LOTS of input in advance. Any insights of your own on what might have transpired in that scene are highly welcome, and I will most probably be using like 99% of them because at this point I swear to God I'm freaking out. Help. Please.
On a side note, has anyone noticed that the ^ character used in the smiley '^_^' is the Hiragana for the sound 'he'? If you read it Japanese-style the emoticon could be interpreted as laughing. So cool, I think I just fell for the Japanese a little more.
(And as an afterthought…did no one get what Hiroki was talking about with his 'underwear-less' plans? :P)