As always, Gravitation is *not* mine. ;_; *sniffle*
Hitori
By Ryu-chan
Chapter Two: The Day of Night
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Darkness. Complete and utter silence.
From across the room, the LCD display of the VCR read 3:26 AM.
Eiri stared blankly at it through hooded eyes. He'd been watching the numbers tick by for the last two hours, registering them distantly in his fatigued mind as his thoughts wandered into oblivion. Stretched on his side on the couch, he faded in and out of consciousness, his body urging him to succumb to sleep.
But his mind didn't want to. Sleeping on that couch brought back so many memories. He'd sleep on the floor before he'd drift off on that couch. //Resting, just resting...//
His laptop sat on the coffee table, open but shut down. Work was impossible. He hadn't been able to write anything since Shuuichi's death, his thoughts becoming fragmented and hazy. Working through plot lines, trying to keep his characters together... it just didn't work. Why does the hero long for the out-of-reach heroine? What changes her mind and causes her to run to him?
What keeps them together?
But most importantly, why does it even matter?
That was the path his thoughts inevitably took. There was no point in creating another love story when his own had collapsed around him, crushing his spirit under the terrible burden of the rubble. //No happy endings, and Sleeping Beauty never woke up because Prince Charming was too far away...//
A dull ache in his shoulders urged him to turn onto his back, but he ignored it. His thoughts seemed to be connected to the green digital beacon across the room, and breaking contact with it would pull him back into the reality he didn't want. Or worse- he'd eventually fall asleep and have to deal with his subconscious.
Being uncomfortable worked fine for him.
The numbers on the display shifted silently to 3:27.
Eiri sighed.
He really _was_ tired, physically and emotionally, but he wasn't ready to sleep yet. Ever since the stereo incident earlier that day, he'd been unable to quiet the nagging doubts that lingered in his mind. Mutinous thoughts threatened his sanity. Touma had been the one to break the news to Eiri about Shuuichi's death. Touma _knew_. Touma wouldn't lie to him, not about something like this.
...would he?
//The lyrics, the music, the feeling that I'm missing out on something... if Shuuichi really _was_ still around, would Touma hide it from me?//
Eiri scowled.
//Listen to yourself. Crazy idiot. Shuuichi's gone. No, not just gone. Shuuichi's _dead_.//
"Dead," he whispered, the word leaving a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
//Dead. He's dead, and he's not coming back.//
Eiri turned onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. Dead. The word resounded throughout his thoughts, but carried little meaning. No matter how many times he thought or said it, it just didn't feel _right_. It felt... forced. Fake, almost. As if saying his lover was _dead_ was a mere line from a script he'd been forced to read. It wasn't the right word.
Death was an end to life, the termination of an existence. Something deep inside of Eiri told him that Shuuichi still existed, as crazy as it made him feel. So if Shuuichi still existed, he couldn't possibly be gone.
//Lost. He's lost.//
That felt a little better.
//He's still here, I know he is. He's just... lost...//
His thoughts were beginning to fuzz slightly, and he moved his arm from across his face to lie over his chest instead. Staring up at the ceiling, he watched the shadows bend as the trees outside the living room window swayed in a breeze. It was dangerously hypnotic, and he felt his eyelids becoming heavier.
//No... can't sleep... //
//But... maybe if I just rest my eyes... //
//Just for... a little while... //
Slowly, his eyes slid shut, and he sighed deeply, feeling the tension in his body ebb a little. Yes, this felt nice... maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea after all...
He sat up with a start. Senses suddenly alert, he held his breath and stared into the darkness in the direction of the kitchen, ears straining.
A noise. He'd heard a noise coming from that area of the apartment.
A minute passed.
The time slipped to 3:31.
And then he heard it again.
Footsteps. Soft, padding footsteps coming from the kitchen.
His breath caught in his throat, and a cold fear washed over him momentarily. He glanced at the laptop on the coffee table, the memory of the previous night and the mysterious lyrics jumping instantly to mind. Seeing that it was still shut off, he looked towards the kitchen once more.
//It's him, it has to be... //
//Argh, no! Are you insane?! There's a better chance that it's a cat burglar! Or some obsessed fan stalking you! ...again... //
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts a little as he stood up. There was only one way to be certain. He would have to go in there and find out.
As quietly as he could, Eiri crept towards the kitchen, peering into the darkness ahead, half-expecting to see a flash of pink hair. He paused a few feet from the door, listening. The footsteps paused as well. //Must've heard me... //
"Oi!" Eiri called into the dark room, managing the cold, dangerous tone he was becoming quite well-known for. "Who's there?"
The footsteps began again, slower now, timid //stalking?//, and they were heading towards him.
He took a step back, the rational part of his mind telling him that if it _was_ a burglar, he'd better get his ass out of the way unless he _wanted_ to get shot or stabbed or whatever the hell it was burglars did when they were caught.
Just as the footsteps reached the doorway of the kitchen, they stopped. //Should be able to see whoever's there now... it's not _that_ dark... //
But there was nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway. He knew someone was there, though, he could _feel_ it, could almost hear what sounded like breathing...
"Get out," he said, managing to keep his voice steady even as a cold panic was unfurling within the pit of his stomach. This wasn't right, something was wrong with this situation. //Not a burglar... they wouldn't approach me, they'd run the other way or try to run past me... //
//Just keep a grip on yourself, damn it.//
"Whoever the hell you are," he growled, his sudden anger at himself helping to douse some of the anxiety, "get the fuck _out_ of my kitchen and _out_ of my apartment."
The muted grinding of his laptop booting up distracted him, and Eiri whirled around in time to see it glow to life, the screen turned to face him. //The hell?!// Folders opened and flashed on the screen as documents overlapped each other rapidly until a blank one glared at him from across the room. The sudden whiteness was soon interrupted by one word being typed over and over and over again, almost furiously:
BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA
BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA
BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA_...
"Jesus," he breathed, eyes going wide in shock. "What the hell--?"
And then the footsteps were running, something brushing past him as the intruder ran down the hallway that led to the back of the apartment. Broken out of his momentary stupor, Eiri turned and chased after them. "OI! GET BACK HERE!" he called out, not feeling half as brave as he sounded.
A door opened and slammed, and Eiri caught himself before he ran into it. He grabbed the knob--
And jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned. The bedroom. They'd run into the bedroom.
//What the hell is going on here?!//
Unwilling now to go in after them, he did the only thing he could think of. Retrieving a chair from the dining room, he wedged it under the doorknob, barricading the intruder into the room. //The police, I need to call the… //
Unsteadily, he made his way back into the living room, struggling to keep himself calm... and froze.
The words on the laptop had stopped, cursor blinking idly, but there... bathed in the unnatural light of the computer screen and sitting on the couch as if it were a perfectly normal thing for it to be there, was the stuffed rabbit.
With a choked yell, Eiri jerked awake and sat up with a start. He was panting, his heart thundering in his chest. Completely disoriented, he looked around the room. The laptop was still off. There was no pink rabbit.
The VCR told him that it was 3:27.
Trembling, he closed his eyes, bringing his legs up to hug his knees to his chest. //A dream?//
"I sincerely _hate_ this couch," he mumbled angrily.
Once his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate calmed, he stood up. The trembling was still there, but that was to be expected; he knew from experience that it wouldn't pass half as quickly as the other symptoms. He needed to wake up, maybe splash some cold water on his face...
As he shuffled towards the bathroom, he tried to put the dream out of his mind. //Because that's all it was... //
//Just a dream.//
He passed the bedroom, then paused. He blinked, gripping the door frame to the bathroom, suddenly feeling very dizzy. He wanted to laugh at himself and just keep walking, but he couldn't.
He was afraid to turn around. He was afraid to confirm what he had glimpsed, because if it was still there...
//Then I really am losing my goddamn mind. //
But he needed to prove it to himself. What "it" was exactly, he didn't know. Proof that he was insane with grief wasn't nearly as appealing as proof that he had been imagining things. Slowly, he turned.
"Shit," he hissed, leaning heavily against the door frame and clenching his eyes shut. //No way. No _fucking_ way!// "It was a dream," he growled. //Then explain how the hell _that_ got there!//
He opened his eyes, praying that it was just a hallucination, that maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him.
A low whimper escaped him.
The dining room chair was wedged firmly against the bedroom door.