CREDITS :

victorikki123

Daygon Yuuki

Gly

Caithlinn13

Rinfantasy

Akakuro Shipper

Iza Seitsuna

Animaddict

Yuna Seijuurou

fuyuzora's

Noah Earl Graves

XienRue

LadyYuraa

BabyNightmareLady

Guest

Claire Aozora

miso-misi

Note : Thaaaaanks! *gobbles Xs*

Love Me For Thirty Days

DAY TWELVE

Wednesday

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"Suddenly I grasped what was happening- they were all trying to save me.

I never thought I was worth saving."

― Albert Borris, Crash Into Me

Tetsuya had been dreaming a lot lately. That night was like any other as well. His dreams weren't those kinds of strange ones; not Wonderland-like, not fantasy. In fact, they were clear memories of the past hung like albums on strings, arranged in a perfect straight line. Pictures by pictures, clipped in between the plastic laundry pegs, and swayed about smoothly. And there was he – at least, this one was the only strange thing he found out in the dream, Tetsuya was watching himself. Precisely yet, he was watching his own self looking through all those hanging pictures, but the whole surroundings a blinding white. The real him smiled in amusement, deep inside nostalgia consuming his whole self.

There was one; he was merely five years old – his cheeks twice as cherubic as his current ones, and scarlet like candy apples; his short, still-growing tufts bluer than blue; and was hiding in between his mother's long legs. Right, it was the first day of his kindergarten life. A nightmare for him and few more children, especially to the poor shy ones. The little Tetsuya almost cried, holding back tiny rivulets from spilling. His current being watched the dream version just stared at the image. Somehow, the longer he stared, the clearer the memory was showing in front of the imaginary self like a plain, white screen. It was when his nimble fingers, the real Tetsuya noticed, which had been quivering slightly for reasons unbeknownst came in contact against the shiny surface – like the time frame suddenly decreased to a full halt – the photo slowly and slowly disappeared into thin air. The memories, unfortunately, followed after.

The real Tetsuya panicked. And suddenly, he was falling. As if a dark abyss inviting him below, he was drowned into the thickening black fog. Its shadows inviting, pulling, wrapping like tendrils around his legs and he was suffocating, unable to breath. . .

Cerulean orbs jarred open, hasty and affright from the shock – was he panting? He wasn't quite sure. The daunt experience he had before turned into confusion. But in front of him, Seijuurou gave him a cold stare. A pair of mismatched eyes widened twice as large as his and full of the familiar hopeless concern. The blunette shuddered away, fearing the latter would again pry on this matter. Well, he was always too late though.

Seijuurou, alas, breathed out the long-expected questions afterwards. "Tetsuya, what happened? A-Are you okay?" His voice tightened just as his voice did. The blunette glimpsed his Adam's apple bobbed to express his anxiety.

Instead of answering, he tossed a full hundred and eighty degrees so that his back was facing the redhead in lieu of the opposite. He closed his eyes back, wishing the least bit of prayer that his falsity would work. But Seijuurou was no fool. He knew better; he knew Tetsuya. Neither feigning ignorance, he pursued to push the blunette over the edge, his fingers spread warmth against his back and then placing pressure against his skin. Sejuurou whispered one more time, tentatively and painfully slow; "Tetsuya. Tell me, please. . ."

"No. . ." he finally responded, but his tone carried a heavy weight to it – not at all of what he was planning to give out. The blunette cleared his throat, but along the way, found himself choking. "I'm fine, Sei."

"I won't accept that kind of answer! There's something you're not telling me –"

"And my secrets are my rights to keep," Tetsuya interfered, snarling before he puffed out a depressed air. "Look, Sei, let's forget about all of these for a while. I mean, we're not at home right now. We have a child to take care. Remember that!" clutching Seijuurou's wrist rougher than he had intended before releasing it twice as harsh. He leapt from the king-sized luxury, luring him out from the tension building up in the spice and his mind was giving out warnings. The pressure was too heavy till his head couldn't handle such burden without having a headache. The blunette slipped out, into the living space the grand room was giving them. It was silent even when the telly was switched on, it seemed like someone had turned the volume low – who would watch TV in such an ungodly hour, Tetsuya wasn't even sure. On the long settee, its cushions plush and surprisingly very comfortable, sprawled a pink-haired child still sleepy from hours of flight. Not to mention, the awful delay that had made them stuck for hours in the waiting hall.

They had reached Manila safely, but in the wee hours to late midnight. By then, Sakura was soundly asleep. She was tucked in the redhead's jacket before landing right to the mellow couch. Tetsuya fondled with the lengthy tresses for a moment before noticing a new presence behind.

"I'm not repeating what I said just then," he growled vaguely but softened next. He peered from the corner of his eye, a dejected look coming from the redhead and he opened his mouth to speak again; "And there's no need for you to apologize as well."

He clicked his tongue. "I just wanted to say something."

"Then, say something. . . cheerful. . . Like, like –"

"Theme parks then?"

The blunette arched one brow. "Theme parks, what about it?"

"Are there any theme parks around here?" asked Seijuurou out of sheer curiosity. Or there was a certain degree of shyness surrounding his aura, and Tetsuya assumed that being a man with a high position – asking for children's theme park was a bit too much for him.

He found his lips lifted into a genuine smile. Tetsuya laughed, amused.

"I'm just asking. . ."

"I didn't say anything, Sei-kun." A small grin present on his face. "Besides, you said that a senior of yours would be our tour guide for today."

The redhead snorted at his choice of words, different shaded pools rolling in light mockery. "Not my senior, he's ours."

"Ours?"

"Surely you don't forget about Chihiro, right?"

A brief moment passed, having the blunette tight-lipped and dwelling into the core of his high school memories. Then, he remembered the bright-haired latter. An oddball like him too. But meeting him during the high school tournament was the least merry introduction he had ever received. After the boiling jealousy he had felt last time. Scorning, he nodded slightly to show the redhead that he did remember – and he was annoyed. "Mayuzumi-senpai. . ." He called out the name tentatively, whilst dark shadows seemed to emit from his very aura.

Still, the action did not affect Seijuurou the slightest. He snorted, "Oh come on, you two were close when he was your senior in diploma."

"Yeah. . . But I could see that he was really. . . close to you," the blunette lowered his head.

In fact, Seijuurou thought of the otherwise. Being the one with higher observant skills, he actually took heed of how Chihiro was starting to get fond over the little blunette. And that was how they became friends, in fact, not just because the two bore the similar invisibility somehow. The redhead began to see the obvious especially when he was with them both. Whilst they would be chatting merrily, he was always the third wheel somehow.

So, Tetsuya's words sounded ironic to his ears. He wanted to smirk, but that would cause the shorter lad had his temper rise again. Instead, he kept his tongue in halt as he was about to retort back a reply. "He'll be coming around eleven. How about we take a shower first – Kami, I really do need a deodorant."

He left the blunette to tend to the child afterwards – before though, he heard the other muttered "Sei do smells a lot. . ." to himself – whilst he minded his own preparation as well. Well, to be honest, he needed a clear head for a moment.

Mayuzumi Chihiro arrived twenty minutes late to the grand hotel they were staying. He looked slightly different from when the blunette last talked to him around five years ago – a few months before moving as a temporary resident in Philippines. His light-coloured hair was a tad longer amd he was sure taller than before. Yet the similar tinge of an outcast was what the Akashi duo elicited from, and those defiant, small eyes. The blunette smiled softly upon his senior, and they both bowed in respect. Later, Chihiro turned to the other one and bowed as well, until he noticed a certain girl with her bright taffy tresses pulled into mid pigtails, wearing a garment of what looked like a sailor uniform but still sticking with her white ballet shoes. The ivory-haired man pulled a baffled look; "Did you two kidnap a child or something?"

Tetsuya choked, "Of course, not! She's Momoi-san's and Aomine-kun's daughter."

His lips pulled into a taut frown, recollecting bits and pieces of the memory from his university years. "Ah. . . You mean that tanned friend of yours you introduced me before. . ." The latter was impressed. Perhaps, he was thinking of how a man like Daiki could raise a child – little did he know that the Akashi couple were the ones acting as her godparent.

Aomine Sakura went out from her hiding territory. Before, she was gripping the hems of Seijuurou's Armani Exchange shirt hard – the redhead swore even an expensive material could be torn from a grasp like that – now she introduced herself in front of the man she deemed as her godparents' friend and attempted a playful curtsy instead. The three of them were quite amused – this girl was obsessed with Disney after all.

But as soon as they thought she was being polite and all, the child broke out from her shy act and exclaimed out loud. Like a sudden burst of energy oozing out, she jumped and leapt excitedly as the thought of food entered her mind of simplicity. "Ooh, ooh, chichiue, otou-san – let's eat, let's eat, let's eat!"

Tetsuya sighed. "You're still Aomine-kun's child, aren't you Sakura-chan?"

"With a little resemblance of Ryouta's bubbliness though," the redhead chuckled. The blunette could only laugh and nodded silently.

Now, here is a fact about Manila. The place was crowded. It's brimming with foreigners and locals alike, it's overpopulated. There was a reason for Manila to be overcrowded because it was a metropolitan. And metropolitans weren't supposed to be ghost towns. Cities like Manila consisted of thousands of citizens painting the whole town in vibrant noises – and traffic. People in cars, people in jeepneys, people strolling with their gaps closer. Pushing, pushing and more pushing.

Apparently, a person like Tetsuya wasn't one fond of thronged streets unlike a certain girl trailing in front of him. Whilst Sakura was having ease passing through others, slipping through little gaps and corners like fluid; he, on the other hand, had to squeeze his body closer to the redhead in order to let others passed through. Maybe he was being invisible right now, he wasn't so sure. Tetsuya just noticed that others didn't really notice him quite well, in contrary with a really remarkable and shining daughter-in-care that they had. Not that Seijuurou was displeased by the fact that Tetsuya was half-embracing him. But he was trying his best to hide his embarrassment away, in fear that the blunette would found out how fast his heart throbbing in his chest. The only way he was able to hide his poor, trembling emotions from revealing themselves was to cover his sweaty face with one of his palms, his cheeks obviously warm. He was a tad glad the little girl wasn't in the mood of her sneaky peeks, lest she'd be pointing out every tiny detail about their expressions. Damn those snarky genes.

He heaved out a relatively heavy sigh, noticing the heavy human traffic was causing him to sweat twice than he had ever been in basketball games. The redhead just prayed a gratitude for fate letting him wore something colder just before, and Tetsuya too – perhaps he was suffering a bit more because he was squeezing between the patches of people and Seijuurou's chest against his right cheek. The blunette shifted uncomfortably.

They were in Binondo – the oldest Chinatown in the world, as they would say. Why Chihiro would brought them here; well, to get food perhaps. Since morning, Sakura had been wailing about dim sum somehow, and well. . . the redhead was hoping she wouldn't mistook Philippines as China. But the change of view was kind of nice, not that it had gotten less jam-packed. The road was narrower than the main one, yet brighter colours splashed the scenery in all shades of red and gold, marking prosperity and wealth to the streets. Scarlet silk ribbons hung against poles, with unlit lanterns hung and swayed about in strings.

"Otou-san, look! Look, look, look!" Sakura pointed toward the nearest shop, a mere five metres away. The vendor, a local Philippine man, seemed to be spreading out red boxes the size of an average shoe box to his customers. Whatever it was, Seijuurou assumed it was candy – and it was brimming with other visitors.

He sighed. "Do you want one?"

The cerise-haired girl nodded brightly, her face beaming with an even larger smile.

Seijuurou had to wait approximately twenty minutes to have his own box later on. When he returned, he felt stiffly cold despite the hot weather and mismatched eyes landed upon two people, not three. The redhead breathed out an audible gasp – loud that the person next to him almost jumped from the sudden surprise. "T-Tetsuya, where is he?"

"Oh. . . Now that you mentioned him. . ." Chihiro masked the fright plastered upon Seijuurou's visage whilst the little girl, who celebrated her snack – it was rice cakes they called tikoy here – just a brief ten seconds had twice the fear shone in her clear navy blue eyes.

"Is it. . . Is it my fault?" she gasped out a cry.

"Of course, not. . . Your chichiue might just be wandering somewhere. . . That's all," the redhead bit his tongue. He lied. To a child. What else can he do when he was panicking deep inside?

There was a certain past screening in his mind. He'd been lost before. In the middle of the night. Out cold, when he should've returned home. But he didn't. And Tetsuya was uncertain during that moment. Seijuurou might be able to find excuse at that moment, but what about now when everything about Tetsuya was clear?

"Chihiro, can you take Sakura back to the hotel?" he gulped, "I'll find him myself."

"Bu –"

"Please!" The red-haired male almost yelled but he held back, in fear not to scare the child. "Just do what I say. . ."

For a moment, the ivory-haired male looked as if he was about to retort back. Instead, he bit his lower lip and nodded, then tugged the little child. "Hey Sakura, let's go back. . ."

Sakura obeyed, albeit unwillingly as she stared forlornly toward the crimson-coloured box, shaking its contents once in a while. Guilt. That was what her petite face masked. It wasn't deserving for a child to carry the fault at all, but she let herself get eaten away by those awful thoughts. The older male noticed the scrunched eyebrows and the glossy blue eyes, he halted his footsteps once he estimated the distance between Seijuurou and them two was far ahead. He turned to convey a small smile to her.

"Do you want to go somewhere fun instead?"

The girl was silent for a while, torn between getting consumed with more guilt or to forget about the sad, sad things for a while. She chose the latter. ". . . Where?" asked Sakura, shyly.

"Ever been to a theme park?"

Her eyes became twice as large, finally the tinge of grey obvious in the sea of blue shades of her eyes. The girl flailed her arms, and beamed – her spirits rose back to normal and whatever hope she had given to her trustable otou-san.

According to the blunette, getting lost in a fluid-like swarm felt like mere seconds spent inside a toilet. One second, he was close to the redhead. In the blink of an eye, his fingers were grasping nothing but ionised air and he released his puff of air that rose amidst the heaty temperature. Tetsuya blinked again. The sight of the other three long gone from his azure orbs, and he reluctantly shifted forward but was pushed by a man hastily bringing out large crates propped against his strong shoulder. The blunette sashayed away to a corner. He breathed, it's no big deal. But he was frozen to his feet, afraid.

What was the first thing you have to do when you get lost? Right, he was an adult – Kami! He had his own cellphone. Tetsuya sighed, his hands searching for his pockets only to be looking for the non-existent phone.

Why would he forget such a simple necessity?

Oh wait, of course. . . That. The blunette painfully reminded himself.

What time was it? The total duration he spent standing there felt like running water; too swift and fast – it refused to stop. Perhaps it was getting late. He wasn't sure. He's just standing, and staring, and wondering what to do.

How pitiful can he be?

Tetsuya was afraid. He's clueless. He can't speak the mother tongue here. His English was as broken as a machine with loose screws. He's helpless as Hell.

Oh.

Now, he's walking. Just walking aimlessly. The blunette couldn't care less about the shoves and nudges and pushes, sometimes harsher than a wrestling fighter. He was tired mentally, his memory connecting the pieces of events – what's happening, what's happening, what happened?

The sunlight had lowered to the west.

How fast the time passed – would it be quick if he was to die one day?

Regardless, his thoughts led him to a church – still in Chinatown, perhaps? He wasn't quite sure. But there was a church, and he deemed it was nice to wait there. Wait for who – he's trying to recollect – no, no, no. . . He was getting too tired.

Have you ever felt that headache? That pain when you tried to remember some details. They're tiny, but they're important to you. Yet, the occasions were blurred images to your mind no matter how much you focused. And the more you focused, the painful it gets, the harder you'll be able to remember it.

Until that moment your head throbbed too much, yet the ego inside you deemed to search for it. To collect the pieces and connect them like puzzles, even when your brain cells yelled you to stop but you refused to – and what's the consequences? Pain, pain, pain.

Confusion.

Tetsuya wasn't feeling nauseous at the slightest bit.

He was just confused. Heck, he was too confused he was panicking the first twenty minutes and another ten minutes prior from now. The blunette cursed himself.

Why was he forgetting things so easily? The only image constantly flashing in his eyes were a being of red; of crimson tufts and a bloody red shade for an eye colour. They were memories of the past, that was the only thing he recognised apparently.

A minute ago, the images were imaginary. It was just a display of what was in his mind. Then next, Tetsuya blinked, the real redhead appeared in front of him. Somehow, it was like a miracle. Yet, the redhead looked as if he was about to burst in tears, but he didn't. They called it a man's ego to not cry.

Only that. . . Seijuurou flung himself to Tetsuya, his arms circled the waist and pulled him into a tight embrace. He yelled, his voice tight with concern. "Where did you go? You've been missing for three hours?"

"I. . . I don't know. . ." he muttered, red-faced and nervous. Please, please, please, please don't find out.

Seijuurou gazed upon his eyes, yet his own mismatched orbs looked far too distant than to just linger his eyesight upon his. Then, he made a sudden movement; shifting and continued to hug him again and suddenly, he just groaned.

"Tetsuya. . . why can't you tell me?"

The blunette stayed silent, but he made a motion forward – tiptoed – and kissed the taller lad's forehead. He stroked Seijuurou's cheek softly. "Because I love you, even when you didn't." He slid himself away from the embrace and groaned. "Let's go back. . ." He shook his head and turned his back to face the redhead.

Seijuurou acted as if he was calm throughout the journey. Yet the respond was still ringing in his ears, even when they returned back to the hotel.

And guilt; guilt was what he deserved.

TO BE CONTINUED

Mozu : A kiss on the forehead means protection. Lol. It's a hidden meaning, huehuehuehue.

I still am grateful for Cheshire Shironeko for helping me throughout the whole storyline of this vacation thingy! She's been giving me great inspiration, and I'll dedicate this chapter for her!

Happy CNY to the Chinese! I have ang pao too~ Yeeeah~!

X for love, O for hate.

-Mozu The Mochi (2016)