Reliability

By: Aviantei

14—Distance

Amidst the hurricane, we seek sanctuary

Megumi didn't go to school the next day.

Or the next.

She couldn't even convince herself to get out of her futon most of the time, unless she absolutely had to. Though it was just a cocoon of blankets, it was the only place where she could even feel the slightest sliver of safety. Doing anything else left her too open, too exposed, too vulnerable to everything dangerous in the world. If she wasn't eyeing the double bolts on her apartment door to ensure that they hadn't come unlocked when she wasn't looking, she was staring out her window at the blue sky, willing herself to somehow escape into the expanse above. It never happened, and she always felt a disproportionate sense of despair.

Whenever night fell, it just got worse.

It wasn't that Megumi didn't think the night sky was beautiful in its own way, but it was hard to see it through the orange haze that the Kyoto buildings imposed upon it. Nighttime also tugged on her usual rhythm to fall asleep, but Megumi refused. She had tried napping when she'd first gotten home, but all it had gotten her were nightmares—ones that were familiar but seemed all the worse for the time she'd gone without them, no matter how short the months were in consideration. She forced herself to stand at a vigil, even though her eyes burned, and her mind throbbed for release. The hours had become meaningless, but all that mattered was that she stayed awake so that no one could possibly hurt her, though she did lapse into short, fitful episodes of rest that barely lasted a few hours.

Though she couldn't bring herself to look at her bare skin, she knew from plenty of experience that Akashi's hand hadn't left a bruise, but that didn't mean the sensation had faded; as far as Megumi was concerned, it was worse than the actual bruise on the back of her head where she'd slammed into the wall. Back then, the two of them had always been careful not to leave any obvious marks, but that didn't limit their capacity to inflict harm.

Megumi went through phases of just managing to feel like she wasn't about to collapse into millions of pieces and losing all capability to breathe. Somehow, through all the years, she still had tears left inside her to cry. Though she tried to stay as still as possible, she ultimately gave in to the burning sensation inside her throat, begging for something to drink. It was much easier to avoid eating food, especially since she hadn't had much in her kitchen before sequestering herself inside. Of all things, she'd been planning to go shopping after getting back from the Inter-High, just to make herself something special for successfully serving as the manager in an official capacity.

What a joke.

All she'd needed to do was sit with the non-starters and cheer on the team. It hadn't mattered who was on the court; that wasn't her area to even think about, let alone speak on. She'd been out of line, just like she'd always been. It was no wonder Akashi had been upset, had lashed out.

A very small voice inside her tried to remind her that those things weren't a reason, weren't even an excuse, but the words were swallowed up by the rest of the storm raging through her.

On what Megumi thought was the third day she hadn't gone to school, there was a knock on her apartment door. It was the kind of knock that was intentionally careful, so it was audible, but not booming. Even with that consideration, though, Megumi still near leapt out of her skin at the sound, pulling her blanket even tighter around her. Aside from the fact that it had been light outside for quite a while, she had no idea what time it potentially was—or who would bother visiting her regardless.

A paranoid idea came to mind that somehow her siblings had figured out where she had run away to, and the hot, acidic press of empty bile began burned against her throat, but she stifled the gag as best she could—and then a voice called out from the opposite end of the door:

"Me-chan?"

It was Choukou. Choukou, speaking in that same calm yet empathetic way she'd done in the restaurant's bathroom when Megumi had shut down. The only difference as that Choukou had raised her voice enough so that Megumi could still hear it through the door. And even though the fragment of logic Megumi still had at her disposal said that it would be okay, that Choukou was safe, a response couldn't even begin to take shape in Megumi's mind, let alone her mouth.

"Me-chan, if you're in there, it's Choukou and Kenta. You haven't been at school and you didn't message us, either. We're not mad, but we're really worried. If there's anything we can do to help, please let us know. Even if there isn't, we just want to know if you're still okay, as best as you can be, whatever that is."

"You can take your time if you need to, but we're always here to help when you need it, okay?" Kenta said next. Through the haze and panic of her overtaxed mind, Megumi could picture their expressions, kind and patient and safe, like they were sitting across the table at the café to chat after clubs. "You have us, Kaizuto-san, no matter what."

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd like it if you'd open the door. If we can't help, we'll leave you alone, but…" There was a faint sense of desperation in Choukou's voice, even though she was trying to hide it. Megumi wanted to answer, wanted to let them know that she'd let them in if she could, but she was too afraid of what could happen, that the worst-case scenario would come to laugh in her face and leave her broken one more time. "We really care about you, Me-chan. No matter what, please remember that."

What hurt the most was that Megumi knew they really meant it, but she still couldn't bring herself to move. She was too raw, too vulnerable to let anyone in, though the fragments of her mind wanted to. But everything else awful was a much stronger force, one ready to consume her whole. Maybe, if she could pull herself together a little more, heal so that she was covered in scabs instead of just open wounds, she could have done it—but not now.

Choukou and Kenta were good at respecting that, and, once they'd said their piece, they fell silent. Waiting for a bit, just in case Megumi needed a bit of time. She could picture them sitting sentry by the door, without any care for the time they were wasting, almost like guards that would keep anyone unwanted away. Megumi managed to doze off for a peaceful rest with their comfort, but it faded once there was another gentle knock on the door again.

"Kaizuto-san, we're going to head out," Kenta said, his voice soft. Megumi blinked a few times, too stunned by the fact that another nightmare hadn't swallowed her up to be afraid that she'd rested. Outside her window, the sky had tinted orange—how long had they been out there? "You can mail or call us at any time. We'll be there, alright?"

"Stay safe, Me-chan. We'll see you soon, okay? Whenever you're ready." There was the sound of a few footsteps before the Yoshida cousins were too far away to hear them through the door, and then Megumi was back by herself, with evening fast approaching.

Despite everything else still awful threatening to crawl out from inside her, sleep didn't seem so horrifying.

After so many days without proper rest, food, or hydration, Megumi crashed, and she crashed hard. Her body was so exhausted that her brain couldn't even manage to summon nightmares to torment her. Waking up felt as if she'd emerged from a years-long coma, but it turned out that it was only a handful of hours that had left her conscious in the middle of the night while most of Kyoto slumbered away or tended to their night owl lifestyles.

Megumi tended to consider herself a morning person, but she knew she couldn't consider something like that whenever she was actually beginning to feel like a real human being again. One that didn't jump out of her skin from paranoia. One that could consider maybe being in interaction with other human beings (if only a select few).

One that had human needs like eating and sleeping and drinking. One that smelled and was in desperate need for a bath.

Aside from the actual experience of being so overstimulated that she stopped functioning like a normal person, Megumi found that coming back to herself was always the worst part, if only because of what a mess she tended to be. But if she was griping about issues like that, she was on the right track, and she'd take it. Her thoughts swirling between how pathetic it was that she'd been out of commission for several days and just what she could do to feel like a real person again, Megumi scrubbed herself off with enough force to make her skin red and soaked in the bath until almost all the heat was gone.

Her skin was clear, with no bruises.

Her scalp was still aching from having her hair tied up into a ponytail for so long, so she let the locks fall free, even if they'd be a frizzled mess later on. There were much bigger priorities. Her stomach was staring to awake up, and a dull throb of hunger accompanied the cracks in her dehydrated lips. The sky outside her window still dark, Megumi sat down and drank through several glasses of tap water for lack of anything better. What little she'd had in her fridge had mostly expired, so she dumped the whole lot into the trash and distracted her thoughts by making a quick grocery list with the budget she remembered having.

When she'd dressed properly in a blouse, over shirt, and loose jeans, she took several minutes staring at her front door, one hand on the knob and grocery list half crushed in her other fist. Ultimately, hunger won out against the paranoia, and a refreshingly clear gulp of air helped boost her mood after being locked up in her stuffy indoors. Her neighborhood happened to have a grocery store that stayed open all day, and she replenished her stock there before heading home to cook.

The smell of actual food was enough to turn her stomach into a growling, clenching monster, and Megumi was surprised at how much she managed to eat—and how much better she felt afterwards. With her APD, she was never really fully okay, but it was a marked improvement over her hermitage. Now that she was behaving like an actual human being again, it was time to get the rest of her life back on track.

Megumi had planned on going to school that day—until she realized that it was Thursday and there would be basketball practice she'd be expected to go to and explain herself, assuming they'd still let her be on the team. The thought turned out to be too much, so Megumi worked on getting her apartment in order washing her futon and unnecessarily scrubbing down anything she could get her hands on while the open window let in some fresh air. Later that evening, she powered her phone back on to let Choukou and Kenta know that she'd probably be coming back to school the next day, then powered it off again before she could find out if anyone else had sent her disappointed messages.

She spent the last hour before her usual bedtime debating if she wanted to bother risking sleep again. In the end, she won out the part of her brain insisting on avoiding the whole process by arguing that she couldn't manage going back to school without some proper rest, so she crawled into bed and passed out once her anxiety stopped shooting her heartbeat into the high heavens.

She slept.

Peacefully.

Two nights in a row.

I'll take what I can get.

Friday morning seemed to be on the same course as Thursday, with Megumi fighting off half conceived panic attacks at what felt to be every ten minutes. In the end, she managed to get her uniform on, her bag in hand, and on the train—though not without a few false starts that had her retreating back towards her apartment door a few times. It was the reminder that she'd told Choukou and Kenta that she'd been coming that ultimately got her to the school gates, though it was over an hour late for homeroom.

Baby steps, Megumi, baby steps.

And baby steps she did take, all the way to the front office, where the secretary on duty typed in Megumi's name on her computer and gave her a vaguely disappointed look as they recited the number of days she'd been missing from school. Shame washed Megumi's cheeks in a wave of blush, and she clenched onto the handle of her bag tight enough, hoping it would distract her from the idea of running. She mumbled out an apology, unable to put an excuse into words.

"Oh, one more thing, Kaizuto-san," the secretary said just as she was about to try and force herself to head up to her classroom while fighting the impending tears. Not trusting a sob to break out of her throat, Megumi looked back over her shoulder. "Yamada-sensei said to send you to her when you arrived."

With a nod and fresh lump in her throat, Megumi changed course.

She supposed that, out of all the people she would have to explain herself to first, Yamada-sensei was the least intimidating—at least if she wasn't counting Choukou and Kenta. Unlike the classroom or the basketball gymnasium, there was only one person to talk to, and a sympathetic one at that. Yamada was even letting Megumi adjust back to the office, the counselor working on preparing a fresh pot of tea. She'd gotten a new manicure, one that had her nails a vibrant violet against the pale colors of her tea set.

Megumi buried her hands in her skirt and focused on breathing, wondering what she could even start to say. She'd been gone for four days from school without any notice. Was that enough for a prestigious place like Rakuzan to take away her academic scholarship? Fresh worries that the trauma hadn't left room for wormed their way into her heart and mind, and the awful consideration came to Megumi that if she lost her scholarship, then she'd have to return home.

Not there. Anything but there.

"I told the school that you called me about your absence," Yamada-sensei said as she sat down, her customary tea tray in hand. Megumi replayed the words once, twice, three times in her mind, and even when she'd processed them fully, all she could do was stare at Yamada in doe-eyed wonder. "I assumed that you were in a position where you weren't well enough to come to class, let alone contact anyone else. I hope you'll forgive me for overstepping."

"No, no, no, that's fine. Really, I should be thanking you!" Usually, her mother was the one making calls; Megumi had forgotten that convenience would be gone when she moved, even though the process had been for the best. "Um, if you don't mind, Sensei, what exactly did you…?"

"Just that you weren't feeling well enough to attend class. I didn't get into much of the details." Megumi let out her breath, already feeling relieved tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. With practice, she dipped her head, reached for the offered steaming teacup, and pushed the waves back. "So long as you make up your work, you won't have any trouble, but I have faith that you'll take care of what you need to, and I can even help facilitate if you need extra time." Perhaps Megumi was still asleep and the whole thing was a dream; she couldn't imagine her return to school going so smoothly otherwise. "That being said, I'd like to help if you'll let me, Kaizuto-san. Was the Inter-High too much for you?"

Megumi almost choked on her own heartbeat, her mind flurrying into a panic that somehow Yamada-sensei knew about what had happened at the stadium—and then she realized that, for her, becoming overstimulated by the presence of so many people crammed into one stadium was what Yamada thought had happened. There was no reason for Yamada to guess otherwise, to think that Akashi was involved, or what he'd reminded her of.

Not trusting her mouth, Megumi nodded.

"That makes sense," Yamada said, wisps of steam rising up towards her face. "You did incredibly well to even put yourself out there, Kaizuto-san. I know I'm the one that encouraged you to join a club, but I do want you to be taking care of yourself along the way." It was so strange to hear a supportive voice amongst the disdainful whispers and snide remarks that were a threat for someone like her. "If you like, I can talk to Shirogane. We've already talked a few times, but he'd be willing to listen if you want me to smooth things over. Of course, I'd only tell him what you're alright with."

Megumi weighed the options—though they didn't have club after classes, she'd still have to face the Boys' Basketball Club eventually. Things would be much easier if at least the coach knew what to expect. "Could you please just tell him that I was sick and that I'll come apologize in person? I don't…"

I don't want anyone to think that I'm unreliable or useless.

Yamada didn't wait for the sentence to finish, and she bobbed her head while tapping her violet nails against the edge of her teacup. "Of course, Kaizuto-san. Part of my job is to help you succeed, so we'll start there." Over the PA system, the end of period bell rang throughout the school. "Ah, that will be lunch. If you'd like to eat here before you head upstairs, you're free to stay."

"Thanks, but I'd rather go now." It would be much easier to slip in during the commotion over lunch than when everyone was settling down for lunch, especially with how close to the front of the room her desk was. Though it was still hot, Megumi quickly drank through the contents of her cup and stood, the bitter taste unable to dispel the comforting warmth of the tea in her stomach. "Thank you again, Yamada-sensei. Thank you so much."

Mixing in with the students and teachers alike starting to mingle in the halls, Megumi climbed the stairs to the first years' floor, where her relative sensation of ease slipped away with each step she took towards Class 1-A's door.

Because while Yamada was handling damage control with Shirogane, there was no way she could do the same with Akashi.

[Author's Notes]

Oh, goodness, I didn't mean to keep you guys waiting so long for this chapter. It wasn't my plan in the slightest. But we're here, and I have some more chapters lined up in the queue, so we're back on schedule, baby! Here's some Megumi having several awful days in a row.

But you know who didn't have an awful time? Me, as I saw all your lovely favorites, follows, and reviews! Thanks to noctisluxys, Mystical Lights, elletheenigma, nityag2003, amgs, Sapphiresushi, , Shiorialice, Thousand drop, Tokine8696, madelinka36, NEVERTAKENSERIOUSLY, Hyuuga Senpai, Razhenshia, Alice. , voevoda, Ovellyta (Guest), harleenbumrah2002, BestFriend09, Viki-black, VividReader365, Marvel18, and all the other readers of this fic for your amazing support. I'm super grateful for you all!

Anyways, this chapter - AKA, the recovery chapter. Something that can be very easy to do in fiction is to have characters immediately bounce back from things that happen to them, and the significance of an event fades away very quickly. Since one of the things that I wanted to explore in this story was character psychology, I definitely didn't want to wave a magic author wand and have Megumi be okay with Akashi being...well, Akashi. Besides from her official diagnosis of Avoidant Personality Disorder, Megumi has some PTSD floating around in there, so it's going to take her a few days before she feels safe going anywhere. Hopefully I've given this point in the story the care it deserves.

Something else I'm stuck with juggling in this story is that Japan has some really awful stigma against mental illness going on unfortunately, and receiving counseling is (from my understanding of the situation) not a very easy thing to do. Because this is fiction and I can do whatever I want, I'm going to tone that down because Megumi has enough trouble dealing with the plot points I have in store for her without also needing to deal with a nonexistent support system.

Now that I can step down from my soapbox for a moment, next chapter will not take an entire near half a year to come out, and Akashi will be back with one of the original scenes I thought up for this story! Please look forward to it.

-Avi

[06.24.2019]