drunk on anxiety,

as the dawn drizzle pours down

i stagger through the street

i start to quarrel and my mouth that once

used to whisper so many kind words

has been tainted by a profanity.

can't rest till this small thing

becomes a catastrophe

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(bad - tablo)

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[LIFELINES]

chapter twenty-four: uneven staccato

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It's a staccato beat, not too strong, not too imposing. It's not demanding to ensure that I know the person is there, it's knocking as if asking permission. Almost hesitant; like the person does not want to barge in. I don't blame the person because who, in their right mind, would want to barge into my apartment and see the sorry mess I've become.

There's a pause. It goes for long. Possibly an hour, or a smidge less. Who knows? My perception of time has already gone out the window. During the period, I somehow note that the knocking recurs again and again - the same staccato knock that belongs to a person that I don't know, or a person that I'm not all that close to. The knock isn't familiar.

I may be fucked up right now, but I notice little things like this whenever it comes to people. There's a beat, a rhythm how Koushiro types on his keyboard, my brother takes one deep breath every five minutes (a pattern I noticed since I cradled him in my arms), Akira - being the drummer that he is - and his endless leg shaking habit, how my mother dabs her lips three times with a serviette after a meal.

Another pause...and then the knock happens once again.

This makes me stand up from the sofa, dawdling down the hallway and towards the door.

I don't open it.

I don't want to see anybody right now. Squinting, I look through the peephole and find a person clothed in navy scrubs, his face blurs out as my eyes quickly dart upwards to his dark blue hair. Oddly enough, it's matching to his scrubs and there is only one person that I know who has this blue combination. Without glancing at the person's face, I already know who my visitor is.

My heart is beating rapidly against my chest as I do a quick sweep of the apartment, taking out the drugs from my medication stash in the kitchen, and the other sachets spread across my living room and bathroom. I hide them in my bedroom before sprinting back to the front door.

I'm sweaty and feeling winded when I check the peephole again. Jyou hasn't left. It's then that I finally address him, "Jyou?"

I still don't make a move to unlock the door.

We may not be the closest of friends, but I don't hate the guy. Jyou's one of the few guys I can tolerate. Maybe because he's everything I'm not. He's a good role model, mature, kind, caring...you know, those few people that make a perfect human in this shitty world. People who you strive to be, but no matter how hard you attempt to be that person - you just simply can't. Asides from his immaculate personality, he's also tall and has brains. Of course I'm jealous - who wouldn't be?

"Can you let me in, Yamato?" His voice is partially on the panicky side. "I really could do with somebody to talk to…"

It might be a trick. Everybody has been plotting schemes to sneak into my apartment. Everybody has already given up on me because I've been adamant of locking everybody out - and this is both literally and figuratively too. I do want to be left alone. It's obvious enough because if I had wanted to be surrounded with people, I would have thrown a big party and we would all hold hands and dance in a fucking circle.

Taichi's not speaking to me. Koushiro doesn't know what's going on. Takeru's mad at me and has reprimanded me, even texting me to not go to Koushiro's upcoming party. The girls are pissed off at me too. I refuse to talk to my mother, which isn't really a new thing. Satou's angry because I haven't been turning up to work as much (I've been avoiding the studio, only making the effort to go to Miho's sessions - and even that has been a struggle). I'm obviously in nobody's good books right now. I'm nobody's favourite person at the moment.

"If you're trying to help me Jyou, I don't want to hear any of it. I'd rather you turn around and leave. You're wasting your time here-"

"I promise it's not about you." Pause. "Fine, a part of that isn't true. I do want to see how you're going, but I could also use some advice as well. I just don't know who to speak to. I'm not here to criticise you because I'm sure you already know how to do that yourself."

"Right…"

"I'm being honest."

Of course he fucking is. I pinch the bridge of my nose. The fucking doctor with his fucking words of fucking passive-aggressiveness. Fucking hell.

I let him in.

"Well, shit." Jyou says immediately. His jaw drops at my appearance, just as I am shocked that he's cursed. Jyou never curses. He proceeds to take off his shoes and quickly gets in before I get the chance to shut him out.

His eyebrows furrow. "When's the last time you were out?"

Good question. It's been a constant fog. Toilet seats. Retching. Instant noodles. Yes, that's what I've been living off. Beer. So much beer. Humming. Drugs. Haze. Like a summer haze; a dream. Smoke. Floating. Existing. Mist. Not existing. Music. Quietness…

I choose not to tell him any of those thoughts because then I'll make him stressed out and he's a doctor, so of course he'll fucking psychoanalyse me. And I don't want that - I don't want that at all. He's the sensible one, the one to rely on...so it doesn't make sense why he needs me for the shit advice. Jyou already deals with enough crap at work. It really doesn't make any sense why he's here.

Jyou rephrases, seeing that I hadn't answered him, "How long have you been cooped up here?"

"I don't remember." I gaze away from him when I see the reflection of my appearance through his glasses. My hair is crazier than Taichi's on a bad hair day, stubble on my chin, a lot of it. I know I've got bloodshot eyes too. I can't see the colour of my eyes mirrored via Jyou's glasses, but I definitely can feel how dry and sore my eyes are.

My throat is scratchy, when I speak up, "Jyou, you said this wouldn't be about me…"

"Yes, I did say that," Jyou comments absentmindedly. We're in the kitchen now. He's running tap water over a sink of dirty plates and cutlery. Soap bubbles up. I haven't witnessed it in person, but Miyako has complained about his cleanliness tendencies when she had moved in with him and although I haven't asked him the favour of doing my dishes, he already is.

"Stop!" It's a delayed reaction as I step towards him, waving my hands in front of his face to try to stop him. "Ah, fuck!"

I grown, clutching onto a handful of my hair when a headache clamours, vibrating into my skull. I'm getting dizzy, and as if Jyou has a sixth-sense, he pivots around and uses both his palms to push me down onto a chair. He crinkles his nose at probably how bad I stink. I'm wearing the same shirt I vomited in from a night or two ago.

He finds a clean glass and fills it up with water, demanding me to drink it. "From all the empty beers littered everywhere in your apartment, you probably should have this. You're dehydrated."

I don't have any strength in me to fight him. I'm tired. All I have been doing is resisting everybody, and Jyou is right. I'm parched. The water is instantly gone from the glass when he takes it back from me to refill it before passing it over to me again.

As I'm about to take another sip, Jyou speaks up, "These are empty."

I should have hidden them away. It's too late to snatch them out of his grasp because Jyou already has seen them. They're boxes that he'd recognise. My anti-depressants. I found it useless to get a repeat prescription. Asides from Makoto sensei, only a handful of people know I've been on and off them.

A frown forms on Jyou's lips, forehead creasing with evident concern. "When was the last time you took them?" He studies the text on the medication boxes. "This was from over a year ago, Yamato!"

"Isn't there another reason you're here?" I coldly rebut.

His arms are folded, but he doesn't press further. He gazes at me through his spectacles, still appearing rather unimpressed with my shitty diversion tactics.

It's still weird him being here by himself. He's usually paired with Miyako, which is only natural since they're together. I hadn't warmed up to him immediately because, I guess, I've always been protective of Miyako. I didn't want him screwing her over. Of course, the more I got to know him, the more I realised that he was not that type of guy. I'm the devil compared to him.

I ask him, "Where's Miyako?"

From saying her name, it's like I've slapped him. His face turns pale and earlier, while he had been the one guiding me to sit down, he plunges down on the stool next to me as if he's about to pass out. He fiddles with his thumbs, body trembling. He's fretting about something that I can't figure out.

"Hey," I let out a dry, uncertain laugh as I nudge my knee against his. "Jyou, are you alrigh-"

"She's pregnant."

"WHAT-"

He goes on again, "Miyako. She's pregnant."

"Yeah, I heard that the first time...but what?" I can't get a grasp of this concept. It's surprised the hell out of me. Nothing has really impacted me lately, asides from this news. Miyako being pregnant is great news. Another kid to join our tribe of friends. I'm grinning cheek-to-cheek when I manage to voice out, "Congratulations, man!"

Jyou looks like he's about to have a mental break down. "That's not the point! I'm not ready for this. I feel awful. I should have used protection. What kind of surgeon am I?"

"You don't want the kid?" I raise an eyebrow, grin vanishing from my face.

"No, that's not it!" Jyou exclaims. "Of course I want her to keep the baby. I would never think to abort my own child! But...I'm not ready for this! We haven't been together long enough for something this big! We were meant to do it in order!"

"In order?"

"You know!" Jyou exhales, slouching. "Like in chronological order. I was meant to be with Miyako for another year before I proposed to her. I was meant to marry her first! I haven't even popped the question, and now she'll be popping out a baby before I even get to propose or marry her. Not like this...I don't even know how to look after children! I'm a surgeon, not a paediatrician!"

"Sometimes things in life don't go in the order you want," I say. "But you're happy, right? That's what matters."

He nods.

"How many weeks?"

"Fourteen."

I stare at him, confused with how he is behaving. "Isn't your panicking a tad bit delayed?"

"Yeah. It's only hit me now because the bump is clearly visible," Jyou admits, scratching the back of his head. "I'm so sorry for bombarding you like this, Yamato. You seem to have already enough going on-"

"It's a welcome distraction. Anyway, it is good news. I'm really happy for the both of you," I smile. "Do the others know?"

"Not yet," Jyou replies. "We kept it quiet because we didn't want everybody to get excited in case she had a miscarriage or anything. She said she's going to tell the girls tomorrow. So...you're really the first one, out of our friends, to know - asides from our families, that is…"

"Me?" I repeat. I don't understand why Jyou would want to tell me first. I didn't get it. "Why? Why not tell your other friends?"

"You're easy to talk to."

If it was another person speaking, I'd counter that his words were debatable.

He further explains, "I don't really have friends outside of our circle of friends because I'm a bit of an introvert, and I spent most of my childhood studying. If I hadn't met Miyako, I wouldn't have been introduced to you guys, and I'd most likely be slaving my life away at the hospital. Besides, you're the first one to accept me in the friendship group."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the one who spoke to me first," Jyou chuckles. "When Miyako had me meet you guys for the first time, it was the first time I felt like shitting myself. I hadn't even felt that way when I was taking my finals in school. Socialising has never been my strong point...but yeah, as I said before. Yamato, you were the first one to speak to me first, who got me a beer, who struck a conversation and helped me relax."

I don't know how to respond to him because I never knew this about Jyou and also partly because I don't actually recall being accommodating to him during our first meeting. Maybe I had been trying to observe him because I had been over-protective of Miyako? That could have been why.

I comment, "Maybe you've gotten me mistaken for Takeru? He's considered to be the more approachable one in my family."

Jyou rolls his eyes at me. "Takeru doesn't wear leather jackets. I'm sure you were wearing that same jacket you always wear when we first met."

"Ah, that's true. He's too much of a dork for it." I smirk. "Perhaps it was me."

"No, really. You really eased the process of making me feel apart of the group. I owe it to you."

"You're only saying that because our friends are a compilation of idiots," I remark.

Jyou laughs this time. I'm thankful he isn't as jittery as he initially was half an hour ago. We're both not on edge anymore. While Jyou admitted that I make him feel comfortable around our friends, he also does the same thing for me. Jyou's vibe is calm, and he doesn't make me feel tense. He isn't combative, like Taichi, nor is he outspoken like Miyako can be. Maybe it's because he balances, he neutralises the group. We're a good mix like that.

"There's no need to stress," I say.

He glances at me as if I'm saying a load of bull.

I shrug. "You'll make a great dad, Jyou."

I'd like to say that I'm reassuring him, but I know I'm only speaking the facts. It's not rocket-science to know that somebody like Jyou will make a great father.

"Thanks Yamato," Jyou replies, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You know that you can count on me too, right?"

"Yeah," I say.

He waits for me to talk. I choose not to.

"Are you going to Koushiro's birthday?" Jyou questions me instead. I relax a bit as he diverts the conversation. At least with Jyou, he reads between the lines and can sense that I don't want to speak about myself right now. If he had tried to force me to, I would get all bitter...and it's not something I really want to project to him at the moment.

"I promised him I'd go." I didn't want to, but a promise is a promise. "Are you?"

"No. I've got an afternoon list that day and am, unfortunately, operating till late."

I hoped he was free. If I had one person at the party to speak to without them critiquing me and glaring at me with disappointment, it would have been easier. I'm probably going to eat (or drink) and run. There's nothing and nobody to stop me from leaving the party, excluding the birthday boy himself. And Sora...I don't want to see her. I shudder at the thought. The pain in her eyes and how hurt she was-

"Yamato?"

"Oh, yeah," I murmur, trying to not look too distracted. "It's a shame. I wish you could make it."

Jyou slides off the stool and pats my back. He thanks me again for calming him down, and says that he's gotta make a run for it because he might be late for work. As he leaves, he speaks in the least condescending tone he can about me going back on the medications and get a new script for the anti-depressants. He's careful with what he says to me because he doesn't want me to shut him out. I don't make any promises, but I tell him that I'll try to.

I don't.

The next day I find myself checking my mailbox. It's filled to the brim with bills. I don't even remember the last time I checked it.

However, it's not all the mail that captures my attention. There's a plastic bag that has been - somehow - squeezed into my overflowing mailbox. I peek inside the bag and see a shaver, shaving cream and a new prescription to the medication I'm meant to be on. The bottom of the script, I see a scribbled signature and under it, in print it reads 'Dr. Kido'.

Jyou truly is a good guy; he's a person that I can never be.

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"Yes, we're the same person," I blandly tell him.

The security guard rubs his chin, studying the ID in his hands. Back and forth he looks down at me and then back to my photographed face on the plastic card.

"Can you hurry up already? I can provide you with the invite if you fucking want it."

My ID is an old one. My hair was longer back then, but my face is stubble-free, eyes probably livelier than the dead fish eyes I probably have now. And maybe it's because I'm not dressed for the occasion. Who cares. I'm not going to be here long anyway. Koushiro won't mind. The others probably will, but I'm not going to the party for them.

"Knife of Day, right?" The security guard recognises me, jaw dropping. "Your drummer is amazing, man. Props to him."

"I'll make sure to pass on the message." I say, "I'm sure he'll deeply appreciate it."

"No need to be sarcastic," he grunts back at me. He lets me in anyway, mumbling something under his breath about how I'm an asshole or something. Whatever. He can go screw himself for all I care.

I take the elevator that specifically leads to the roof-top bar. I'm alone on it. I feel dizzy and try to retain the little content that wants to be expelled from my stomach. It's a bad idea that I had finished the six-pack of beer. I couldn't help myself though. The closer the time got to Koushiro's party, the more shaky I got. I was going to see all my favourite people that I didn't want to see. I hadn't taken a hit, but at least the alcohol did something for my shitty nerves.

Wandering into the bar, I'm not at all surprised. Koushiro really has outdone himself. All sparkly, expensive interior, polished marble flooring. The ceiling has fucking crystals draping from it. We could have opted for a simple sports bar with sticky floorboards, but now that Koushiro has made it big, he has to celebrate big too. This isn't Koushiro's personality. He's only doing it for his guests because he's putting their entertainment before himself. The real Koushiro would rather be in his room, attempting to sleep because he's the worst insomniac i know.

Specks of silver sprinkles from the disco ball, dimly lighting the venue. Lounge music is playing, steady pattering bass, a forgettable beat.

Funny thing is it that the first people are two redheads in front of me. The first being the celebrant himself, the second being the number one person in the world that I want to avoid. Her hair is shorter; it suits her. And I somehow can't stop gazing at her...

She has to look sinfully good. Most of the women here are attired in showy-dresses, but it's only her that's in a simple navy jumpsuit. It's a shame her long legs are covered though. Even then she looks goddamn breathtaking. Only somebody like her could pull off a basic dress and still look hot.

How much of a moron I am for having let her go, for hurting her, for acting like the dirtiest coward? I don't even deserve to breathe the same air she does. My eyes feel dry, heart racing. The air feels thinner, and I'm fighting the urge to vomit.

God, I need to stop looking at her.

I rip my aways from staring any longer at her direction, focusing on the real reason why I'm here.

"Happy Birthday, Kou."

"...Yamato."

I think Koushiro's saying thanks for being here. Something like that. Can you blame me? How can I concentrate when...oh fuck, I need to get out of here. I need to-

Don't look at her. Don't you dare. Although my attention is on Koushiro, he's blurring out. People greet me. Nameless people. I say my hellos, but I don't care about any of them. Glaring. Is that Taichi? Shit, I need to leave.

It's when her eyes fall onto me from my peripheral vision, I feel a chill rake through my body. I'm suffocating. It's hard to breathe.

My hands dig into the pockets of my jacket to feel the plastic sachets. My muscles become less tense, knowing that I have an option to fall back on if everything else fails. I have another getaway. I have something that will make me feel better. I inhale and exhale, trying to dull the quivering that has possessed my whole body.

I make myself move away from the crowds of people. The balcony looks good. Blue. A nice blue. A calming blue. A depth, a deepness that understands me. Nobody is out here. If I stay here for another ten minutes and leave, this will be enough. I need to show everybody I'm fine. I'm doing well. I'm...fucking hell. The shaking is worse. I slip back inside to grab a glass of champagne from one of the servers. She's about to leave, but I hold out a hand. She gazes at me, uncertain what I mean until I down the whole drink in one go, placing it back onto the tray. She shakes her head at me. I laugh at her when she leaves. This is all too good; all too fucking funny. It's all a joke. I'm the joke.

The breeze cool my flush cheeks. The city view is dazzling. As dazzling as a balcony can be. As dazzling as it can be that can make somebody want to jump off it. Kaori, don't fall on me again. She's there, standing on the edge. Her long hair is grazing the wind. Cherry lips. Crying. Tears. I'm sorry. I can't love you again. I may have left you, Kaori...but you've also left me. Why did you leave me behind? Why didn't you take me with you? If it all ends, the noises in my head will stop. All the wrong-doings I've done will go away.

Why am I alive? Is it my own karma, or a way to atone for all the sins I've committed? When we sin, why should we be forgiven? We get forgiven, and then we are prone to commit the same mistake. Over and over again. Sometimes we don't learn our own lessons.

The sachet is tickling my fingertips. Teasing me. I almost take it out until it falls out of my grasp when something, or someone, gives me a hard nudge to the shoulder.

I turn to face blazing eyes, and a face distorted in absolute rage.

It's my brother.

Shit.

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(a/n) Happy late Christmas, New Year and (possibly) Birthday! Haha. It's already 2020. I'm so sorry this was released late. I haven't forgotten about this story. I just tend to do this thing of multi-tasking everything at once. I don't know what's wrong with me. Must be a Capricorn thing. Currently I'm working two jobs, went back to school to study...and I'm also in the process of a career change, while aiming to buy a new house and...ultimately going on a holiday if time/money allows.

Also trying not to inhale too much 'hazardous' air (i've even resorted to wearing masks). Australia's bushfires have been crazy insane. It's really upsetting because some places, that have been severely damaged and burnt to the ground, were towns my parents would force road trip on me. Over half my age ago we were taught about Climate Change, and he failed to acknowledge this? What. the. hell. And don't get me started on my Prime Minister. I swear, all the leaders in the world are irritating the hell out of me at the moment.

/end rant

Back to this fanfic - Some Jyou stuff. I wanted to explore his relationship with Yamato. More Kaori stuff will be happening. Um..I don't know what else to say. Most of you know what's going to happen since you've read Lifelines. Haha xD We've still got a lot of dark stuff to get through.

ANYWAY, I hope you all have been doing well. I'm surprised if you're still reading this. I hope you've had a better start to your year than I have.

Oh, and this is not edited so expect fun mistakes everywhere. If I have time, I'll get to it. (lol /notlikely)

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. another btw (because i am slightly crazy atm). i'm tempted to write a new sorato. argh.

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Guest: Maori is definitely something that would remind you of 'misery loves company'. The two did get along because they were both troubled, and they understood each other to a certain degree. There will still be more from Kaori in the later chapters - and yes, you will explore more of Yamato's inner thoughts when he does go to rehab. Thank you again for dropping by a review and reading :)

(will reply to the rest of the reviews this evening)