POV Midorima

The room is as dark as I can make it with the light pollution coming in through the blinds; this city is never quiet, it is never dark. The bed is higher than any other western beds I've slept on (all two of them), and I am so restless that I worry I will roll off in the middle of the night. This, of course, makes me more restless and even less likely to sleep. My glasses are off, but no matter how I try, I can't keep my eyes closed. I'm under the blankets, but that is as closest to sleep as I think I will get.

I check my watch; it is still set to Tokyo time. It is early afternoon where Takao is and I know that some of my issue is jetlag, but I don't delude myself, most of the problem is that Takao isn't laying on top of me. The melatonin pill I took doesn't seem to have any effect. I am alone with the voices in my head. One nags me that sleeplessness will leave me unprepared for training tomorrow. A second voice tells me sleep won't matter, that I am incapable of playing with real athletes. I recite time's tables trying to drown out the other voices – they are louder and nastier. If I listen to them...

I hear a gentle ping from my laptop ,and I scramble out of bed. The email is from Takao and it says one simple sentence: "I love you."

I pull out the desk chair and sit down. I'm in a panic and I can't make my fingers work in my rush to reply.

[Are you free to talk?] Is the best I can do; I have to hope that I haven't missed him. I hit the F5 button again and again until I see his reply: [Yes, for the next ten minutes I'm on break.]

I am dialing even before I finish reading.

"Hey, Shin-chan, I'm surprised you're awake. Isn't it late there?"

"It's a little after midnight. I can't sleep. I'm used to sharing my bed with this warm and snarky bird of prey who guards my sleep," I say.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep last night either. Every time I turned over and didn't run into you, I panicked."

I can't say anything passed the lump in my throat. I try to control the emotions; I don't know how thick the walls are, and I don't want my neighbors to hear me crying.

"What's bothering you, specifically?" he asks. For a second he sounds like Dr. Suzuki, and that helps me focus.

"I have voices in my head… I know they're not real," I say quickly. I can't believe I've admitted that out loud, even to Takao. I slump forward and lean my forehead against the palm of my hand. "I don't know why you stay with me. You've had enough mental instability in your family life. You don't need mine as well."

"I love you, and everyone has voices in their head. I think it's part of being human," Takao says.

When I don't answer, he sighs.

"Don't believe me? Do you want to know what mine say?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"The main one sounds like my mother. It say that no one will ever love me, that you'll leave me the moment you get bored with me. Last night she told me you'll find someone better in New York, that you're never coming back to me. The other sounds like my father, and it says that everyone would have been better off if my mom had gotten that abortion instead of having me."

I am silent. I have no idea how to respond to his confession.

"See?" he says, again, not needing me to say anything. "You're not alone. Do you want to tell me what your's are saying tonight?"

"The main one, the one that's pushing me over the edge, says that I am just a freak and that my 3-pointers are a fine party trick, but that when put up against real players, they will prove exactly what a fraud I am."

"Well, that's a nasty little lie. Let me remind you, you are a mean tactician – you even managed to surprise Akashi a few times – you are brutal defender, and the Number One Shooter in all of Japan. Do you want me to go on? Or have I drowned out those stupid voices?"

"You could go on all night," I say. "As long as I get to hear you, it doesn't matter; you are always louder than the voices."

"Of course I am, 'cause I'm right. Hey, I put a surprise on your phone; I didn't think you'd need it so early, but go into your memory card and look for file called 'cicadas.'"

I follow his instructions and once I hit play on the MP3, it takes a few seconds, but when it begins, I know exactly what it is. First, only cicadas are obvious, but then underneath is sound of breathing.

"Shin-chan," Takao's sleepy voice grumbles over the speaker, and then I hear myself respond with a breathy whisper that sounds like "Kazu."

The counter at the bottom of the file says it is thirty minutes long.

"If you plug in your phone and put it on repeat, it should last the whole night."

"How do you do it?" I ask him.

"What?"

"Anticipate everything?"

"I think, often. I have to be worthy of you. It makes the voices in my head get quiet when I do stuff like that. Anyway, I hate to do this to you, but I've got to get back to work, and then I've got classes later. Are you going to be ok?"

"Yes, I think this will do nicely. Thank you. I am the one not worthy of you."

"Thanks, Shin-chan, rest well."

"Work hard," I said, and disconnected the call.

I plugged the phone in and put the track on repeat.