PART III
It was the last time Kisumi cried.
After that, he just went quiet. And really, it wasn't that he just went quiet, but that something inside of him stopped living entirely. Frightening was not the word. Disconcerting was not the word. Sad was not the word. Asahi didn't know what he felt, looking at it, watching it, being with it.
Kisumi couldn't live alone anymore, there was no way. His parents were beyond concerned, and they were not the only ones. If there was any good news to come out of it, it was that Asahi's apartment search was suddenly over. He moved in with Kisumi, and the phantom of Kisumi had no complaints to give. He hardly seemed to have an opinion about it at all.
After his meltdown, he had lay on his side, staring blankly at the wall next to his bed, while Asahi turned everything upright, put his belongings back in place, and swept up the broken remains of whatever hadn't made it through the storm, and that was the very beginning of the new pattern of their lives.
Now, instead of just going through his own routine and checking in on Kisumi whenever he got the chance, Kisumi's routine molded itself with Asahi's, because Kisumi had no motivation to do anything on his own anymore. If left to his own devices, he would have continued to lay facing the wall until it was time to go back to Iwatobi. Asahi didn't have the space to go to Iwatobi every weekend, but he went whenever he could, and on the weekends he couldn't manage it, Sousuke met Kisumi halfway to ride the trains back and forth with him. He was never left alone. And he never voiced any feelings about it. Asahi was concerned, but that's all he was allowed to be, because Kisumi just simply had to be kept going.
So, at four o'clock every morning, Asahi's alarm went off. He got himself dressed, popped in to help Akane open the café, went back to the apartment, and woke Kisumi. He spent the first half of morning practices, dragging Kisumi out of bed, making sure he ate breakfast, and walking him to class. Then he'd spend the last half of practice just barely keeping up with the training regimen, ignoring Haru's increasingly woeful gaze, and telling Seijuro, sorry but life was a shit show right now and swimming was not a priority, he would do his best once competitions started back up, but half-assed training was all he had in him. Seijuro eventually stopped bothering him about it.
After practice, he would go to class and exchange texts with Yua, who volunteered to meet Kisumi after his first class and make sure he got to the next one. Ichika saw him to the third, and then Asahi would go and get him for lunch. He'd leave Kisumi at the swim club with Makoto after that, and then go to his last class. Makoto kept Kisumi with him on evening practice days, and then brought him to Marron where he and Asahi both made sure he ate dinner, and then, after closing up the shop and attempting to do some homework, Asahi toted Kisumi home and let him go straight to sleep. They did this every day during the week, and then Asahi saw Kisumi off on the train every Friday, just as he had before, and now the knot in his stomach was the size of a cantaloupe.
There was nothing to Kisumi anymore, and it was beyond painful. He barely talked. He didn't smile. He didn't cry. He didn't emote anything. He didn't resist when Asahi prompted him to do simple things like change his clothes or brush his teeth, and he didn't necessarily stop tending to his school work. As far as Asahi could tell, he was still taking notes in his classes and doing his assignments, but there was definitely an entirely numb and detached effort to everything that he did, so Asahi had no idea if the work he was even doing was credible.
It was so draining that Asahi couldn't really find the prompting in him to feel all that much about it himself. Or at least, he didn't sit long enough to think about it. He just kept moving. He just kept waking up and tugging on Kisumi's body, and mindlessly shuffling through his days, never sleeping but somehow always waking up to do it again the next day. It was like jogging in place in front of a moving screen. Everything else went by around him, but he never got anywhere, and his bones sank just a little bit lower every day. He kept telling himself that at some point it would get better, there wouldn't always be bad news. Some day there would be good news, and goddammit, if he was the only one who was going to keep holding onto the frail hope that Hayato would eventually be okay, then he would. Damn whatever the goddamn doctors had to say. It hardly seemed like there was space to worry about Hayato anyway.
He wasn't sure if it was something Kisumi started doing more frequently, or if Asahi had just never really noticed because they'd never lived together, but Kisumi disappeared into his hiding places a lot. Asahi lost count of how many times he had to pick him up out of the bathtub, dig him out of the closet, and pull him out from under the bed. Sometimes, he let him sit there for a while longer. Other times, if he was tired enough, he'd join him, and they'd spend a good hour lying on their stomachs underneath the bed, but life eventually had to go on, so Asahi would force them both up.
He wasn't counting the days anymore — really he never had been — but there were occasional benchmarks in time when Asahi would notice a subtle change in Kisumi that pulled his best friend deeper into that depression he'd been trying to fight off before this.
On one such occasion, Asahi had gotten Kisumi out of bed for the day and nudged him into the bathroom to take a shower. He heard the water cut on and spent the next twenty minutes throwing something together for breakfast. Then he got distracted by an email from one of his professors and realized after he'd finished responding that another fifteen minutes had gone by. The shower was still running in the bathroom, and Kisumi never took that long to shower.
Asahi didn't bother to give it much hesitation, he didn't really have room anymore. He knocked once and pushed his way into the bathroom the moment he didn't get a response. When he drew back the shower curtain, Kisumi was sitting under the rain of the shower head, tucked into himself with his face in his knees, and Asahi was one-hundred percent sure that he'd just been sitting like that for the past thirty-five minutes.
He took only a moment to fight off the inclination to become suddenly exasperated and scream at Kisumi to stop being so depressing. Instead, he cut the shower head off and filled the tub, then knelt down and spent the next however many minutes washing Kisumi's hair. He was very nearly done rinsing the conditioner out, when Kisumi mumbled something into his knees.
"What?"
"You're miserable."
"I'm fine," Asahi said flatly, raking Kisumi's hair back with his fingers.
"You shouldn't have to do all of this."
"Then do it yourself, if you feel that bad about it."
Kisumi shoulders sank, and Asahi let out a long breath. He set the cup he'd been using down on the edge of the tub and pulled the plug to let the water drain.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I know this is hard for you. Don't worry about me."
Kisumi didn't respond, and somehow Asahi knew that was all he was going to say for the day. He kept his next sigh to himself as he stood and grabbed a fresh towel. He draped it around Kisumi's shoulders.
"Please don't sit in here too long. Breakfast is on the table."
Then he left the bathroom and sat at the table by himself with his face in his hands for at least another fifteen minutes.
It didn't get any better. It very sluggishly and unnoticeably got worse, in fact, but there was no room or want to worry about that. Asahi bombed his first competition, and that was not a surprise. He hadn't been doing well at all, since Kisumi didn't show up to the tournaments anymore, and no matter how much Makoto or Hiyori tried to bolster him, his times got worse and worse, until he started insisting to himself that he was bound to get kicked off the team. He didn't, and Seijuro made it very clear that that wasn't going to happen and that if Asahi wanted to quit he could go right on ahead, but then what on earth could he possibly have to aim for after that, and unfortunately that was true. It wasn't like he was really trying to be the best anymore, but swimming still gave him an outlet, despite how taxing and time consuming it was nowadays. He couldn't give up swimming. Swimming was something he had always, always found the time and energy to do. There was never a time in his life when he wasn't swimming. If he suddenly stopped, there would be nothing to keep him moving.
Kisumi stopped. Kisumi stopped everything. He didn't go to his clubs anymore, not even occasionally. He stopped attending kendo training, business community and video production were callously tossed out the window, and he quit basketball entirely, and Asahi didn't know how to feel about that. It wasn't right, quite obviously. He remembered being told by Kisumi himself that nothing could ever take basketball away from him, and now that was no longer true. And it wasn't just that someone had come along and ripped basketball out of Kisumi's hands. He'd just simply let it fall away, watching it go with an unfeeling gaze, and had no remorse for its absence. His teammates frequently ran across Asahi on campus and asked him about what was going on, how Kisumi was doing, why he wasn't showing up anymore, and Asahi had nothing to say to them. He was just as disappointed as they were.
"You're taking next week off."
Asahi looked up from the stack of dirty dishes he'd just brought back from the table of preteens who were walking out of the café. "What?"
Akane was watching the kids leave, but her eyes weren't really taking them in. She had her lips pursed as though she was thinking very deeply about something difficult, and, after a moment of silence, she turned her gaze on him with her hands on her hips.
"I said, you're taking next week off."
Asahi's brow was already bending in protest. "Nee-chan, I was already off last weekend. Kisumi needs the money to visit his family."
"Kisumi has the money to visit his family, Asahi."
"Then I need the money to go with him. Yamazaki can't meet him the week after next. Kisumi can't just go to Iwatobi on his own."
"Then I'll pay for your train ticket."
Asahi closed his eyes and tried not to whine. "Akane."
"You are taking next week off, Asahi. You need to sleep."
"I'm fine," he said, opening his eyes again to find that she'd already taken the dirty dishes away from him.
"You look like you just stepped out of a mausoleum. I appreciate how hard you've been working. But you need a break."
"But I've been taking —"
"You need a break to rest, Asahi," she said, her gaze sharp and insistent. "Chaperoning Kisumi-kun while he goes back and forth between home and school, is not rest. You're taking next week off, and I want you to stay home."
"Nee-chan —"
"This isn't me asking, otouto. Either you take it, or I cut your hours entirely."
Asahi dropped his jaw, thoroughly offended. It wasn't an empty threat, Akane was being completely serious. Asahi could not afford to not be working, he needed to make sure Kisumi had everything he needed. Also, he had to pay for school expenses, and food, and transportation, and far be it from him to accept handouts from his sister. Something about living with Kisumi and accepting a share of his responsibilities had made Asahi quite possessive about his own integrity and ability to be a source of provision so that Kisumi wouldn't have to worry about it. He had to be able to provide, and he had to be able to provide on his own.
"Fine," he said stiffly. "I will take next week off."
"And?"
"And I'll stay home," he said tersely, hoping the bitterness in his stare was coming across as sharply as he felt it. Akane wasn't fazed.
"Sleep, Asahi," she said, then turned away to take the dishes back to the kitchen.
The very next day, Ikuya and Haru left for Brazil. They would be gone for a month, and Haru was the least excited that anybody could be. Asahi, Hiyori, Kisumi, and Makoto were all there to see them off, and Makoto smiled a lot and insisted that Haru would have a great time.
"Please be nice, okay?" he said, holding Haru's face in his hands. His smile was charming, but just a little bit sad around the edges. "It's supposed to be fun."
"I want you to come with me," Haru stated.
"I can't come with you, Haru-chan. But you'll have Ikuya, and Rin's going to meet you at the airport, remember?"
"They're not you," Haru said, stuffily turning his face away.
"Thanks," Ikuya scoffed. "Now I'm even more excited to spend a whole month with you."
"You guys are going to have fun," Makoto said again, pulling Haru against his chest, and sending Ikuya a smile. "Do your best for us, okay?"
"You don't need to tell me twice," Ikuya said, hiking his bag on his shoulder. He stuffed his other hand in his pocket. "I'm bringing home at least three medals. Haru?"
Haru rolled his eyes and didn't respond.
"Can you bring Hiyori with you at least?" Asahi said dryly.
Hiyori glanced over as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "You know, I really thought we were going to make it through this whole thing without you opening your mouth."
"Glad to know it's still working," Ikuya said. The look he gave Asahi was deeper and more concerned than Asahi really wanted it to be.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Bring me and Kisumi back a souvenir."
"Of course. Kisumi, any special requests?"
Kisumi turned his gaze away from wherever he'd been blankly staring off into the distance. He just barely shrugged. "You don't have to get me anything."
All five of them gazed at their friend in a moment of silence that stretched on a bit too long. Everyone was fully aware that Kisumi should have been bouncing on his toes with excited smiles on behalf of everyone preparing to leave. He should have hounded Ikuya for souvenirs for weeks and annoyed Haru by hanging off of his shoulders all night until they left. Whoever was standing with them right now was not Kisumi, and it sent a frosty chill up into the air.
"I'll bring you back a carnival headdress," Ikuya said, breaking the silence. "Gaudiest one I can find." After that, he gave Asahi another look, and they spent a moment with their gazes locked as Ikuya voicelessly communicated a "look after him" that Asahi didn't need but appreciated anyway.
He gave Ikuya a curt nod, and it wasn't long after that that the swimmers were called to load up on the bus. Everyone exchanged their goodbyes and good lucks and "we'll be watching from home."
For the first time that Asahi could remember, Haru and Makoto shared a very long kiss in front of everybody, and he found himself incredibly fascinated by the amount of genuine care in it, not just from Makoto, but from Haru as well. Makoto whispered "I love yous" against Haru's lips about a million times, and when they finally broke apart, Haru looked at him with the tenderest longing Asahi had ever seen on him. Really, he'd never seen Haru express so much emotion in general, much less the kind that made him incredibly vulnerable for that short moment.
Makoto had to usher Haru toward the bus with a gentle nudge, and Haru kept looking back at him with the most lost-looking gaze. This was truly an anomaly. Makoto smiled the whole time, and waved until the bus was out of sight, then he raked his hand through his hair and sighed very heavily. Asahi patted him on the back.