"I don't want to talk to you." The voice is full of emotion, such strong, heart-wrenching emotion, but Kiku has never been good at understanding others, not really. For the life of him, he can't figure out what it is. He can't put a name to the sentiment.
"Arthur, listen, just listen," he hears himself calling, pushing against the door. It's imperative he sees the other right now, and talks to him. Absolutely necessary.
"Just leave," the response comes. The two words sound so different from how they usually emerge from the Brit's mouth, so foreign. "I can't…I can't see you right now."
"Arthur, please…just let me speak," Kiku begs, pressing his diminutive weight against the wood as if it will make a difference. "Please, Arthur…that is all I ask."
"Fine," comes the voice after a pause. A surge of relief washes over Kiku, followed in quick succession by a tsunami of dismay as he opens his mouth to speak and…
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"I'm waiting," somehow those two words are not bristled, not impolite. Not at all how they should be.
He opens his mouth again, tries to talk, tries to say something, but no words emerge. It's like trying to talk underwater, all of a sudden. Only harder.
"Kiku?"
The panic isn't helping. He needs to say something, needs to…
"Kiku…I'm sorry."
Sorry…sorry for what? The Asian feels heavy, as if he is emerging from underneath cement, wet sand, something thick. He moves a little, trying to get his mind out of the murk and cloudiness. Of sleep? That must be it. A dream, a dream…
"I'm sorry for everything that happened. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't…"
Someone is speaking, Kiku realizes. Arthur. Arthur is speaking. And he's here with him, sitting on the couch beside him. There's something on top of him, too. Something warm, but fairly light. A blanket?
"I…" and then Arthur sighs, the whispering coming to a halt. Kiku's eyes flicker open then, as if of their own accord.
Arthur balks.
"Arthur-san, I…what were you…?" As Kiku is fumbling for the correct words, brain still sluggish with traces of sleep, Arthur leaps to his feet from where he was sitting beside the smaller boy.
"How much did you hear?" He slurs out, in a panic, ear-tips bright crimson as the rest of his face becomes increasingly more so.
The Asian weighs his options, weighs Arthur's reaction, before going with an option he would not usually chose.
"Nothing." A lie. But it is for the other's own good. "Are you all right? You don't look well…"
"I'm going to bed," is all Arthur responds, though the look of relief on his face is tangible. "G…Goodnight, Kiku."
"Goodnight, Arthur-san," the Asian responds, with the slightest bit of a smile, before the other's words compute in his brain.
Goodnight…
It's quiet, too quiet for anyone else to be here. They must have left. And he fell asleep. Fell asleep, and now…
The time!
Frantically, he gets to his feet and searches for a clock. The cable box is blinking a glowing "3:41" at him. He hopes Alfred forgot to reset it after the last power failure.
"Alfred?" he calls, wandering out into the hallway in search of another time telling device.
"Hm?" a blond head pokes out of the kitchen, swallowing something. "Oh, Kiku, you're up. I was just grabbing a snack. Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm fi-" it is then the Asian's eyes catch on the clock inside the kitchen, confirming his suspicions. "Uwah! It's nearly four in the morning. Yao will be out of his mind, worrying…I've got to get back. Why didn't someone wake me, I-"
"Chill!" Alfred calms, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace, his eyebrows raising at the tone of panic in the smaller boy's voice. "Arthur said you might be tired, knowing how much you push yourself for exams. We figured we'd let you sleep."
"A-ah," Kiku stutters, re-gathering his thoughts. "May I use the-"
"I called your brother after everyone left. He said it was fine if you just stayed here the night," the blond interjects, guessing the other's question before it is asked. "That's OK, isn't it? I mean, I can drive you back if you'd rather-"
"N-no…" Kiku glances at the clock, as if once again trying to confirm to himself it's really so late. "I am fine. I just…I do not wish to impose."
"And you aren't," the blond assures, smiling his best grin. "I was just gonna head to bed, though. Is there anything you need? You look a little spooked…"
"No, thank you. I am fine," the brunette repeats, feeling like a broken record.
"If you're sure. I could make some, uh…tea for you or something. Artie must have some around here."
Kiku opens his mouth, ready to decline the offer, as would be polite, but the thought of some tea right now appeals to him greatly, shaken up as he is. Slowly, he gives a reluctant nod. "If…if it would not be too much trouble, that is."
"No touble at all!" Alfred assures, turning to rummage in the cabinet. Kiku watches as he finds a tea bag, locates a mug to put it in, and sets it in the microwave after filling it with water. Beep…beep, beep. The microwave comes to life with a whir.
A whir, so different from that of his computer's, but…
"Relax, sit down," the younger boy leans against the counter, motioning. "Did you have a nightmare or something?"
A nightmare. Kiku supposes it was to some extent. A half-forgotten memory, experienced again through the distortion of the dream world. "A-ah…something like that." He sits down.
"Oh…" The microwave goes off then, interrupting Alfred's wordlessness. He grabs the mug, popping a spoon into it before depositing the concoction in front of his friend. Kiku watches the steam rise, stirring it absently.
"Was it about your computer?"
"…a-ah…" the smaller boy stammers, pondering the merits of each course of action. He doesn't want to bring this up again. Not when they finally managed to put it behind them all. To bury the hatchet between Alfred and Arthur. "Yes…it was. But I am fine now…just…" Two lies in one night…
"I know," the blond smiles, that warm smile of his, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'll take another look at it tomorrow. We'll figure something out.
"Thank you," Kiku wraps his hands around the mug, relishing the warmth. What an unusually cool day for summer. "For the tea and…for…"
"No problem!" the other replies, to spare the other from having to finish. Kiku doubts it's out of guessing this time, out of knowing what he wants to say. But it is out of understanding. A trait Alfred is showing an uncharacteristically large amount of today. It's a side he hasn't seen of the other, not in awhile.
They sit in silence for a while, as Kiku slowly sips at his tea. It is a long pause, bordering on awkward.
Eventually, the guilt of keeping the other up any longer gets to the Asian. "I will be fine on my own. I don't want to keep you up any longer than I already have."
"Nah…it's fine. I'm not even tired, really," he insists, but the yawn he stifles shortly after ruins his cover.
"G…goodnight, Alfred," Kiku says with a smile.
Alfred shrugs, giving in. "I'm upstairs if you need anything. First room on the left." He waves, before heading up the staircase. "G'night!"
Kiku himself isn't very tired. Not after everything that just happened, at any rate. He finishes his tea, before returning to the living room. It's a mess, empty cans and other miscellaneous party debris strewn around.
The least he can do is clean up a little, to pay Alfred back for letting him stay the night. Besides, it will help him clear his mind. And so he bends down, gathering up the wrappers and throwing them out, placing the empty cans and dirty plates in the sink. It takes a couple trips to get all of it off the floor.
Momentarily, he considers looking for a vacuum, but decides against it. The noise might wake his hosts. Instead, he heads into the kitchen and cleans the dishes, leaving them in the rack to dry. The cans he rinses, before placing them on the counter, ready to be recycled.
Drying his hands, he truly takes in the kitchen. It's cleaner than he would've guessed, most likely of Arthur's doing. He can't picture Alfred housecleaning, somehow. And it is Arthur's house after all.
Arthur's house.
Oh.
He mentally reprimands himself for not thinking of this earlier. That explains why it looks familiar—so familiar—but is not quite…
And he stops his thoughts before they can progress. It's been a year since all of that happened. A year and a summer, which was long enough to forget about most anything. Long enough to let it pass, become past buried beneath more recent memories. They had agreed that was for the best, and so they had let it be forgotten. With everything else going on.
Or at least Kiku had thought. But after what Arthur said tonight…
The Asian shakes his head. He needs to let it go. Alfred certainly has. They are all friends. Just friends. That is what matters.
At a loss for what else to do, Kiku heads back to the couch, and curls up underneath the blanket. It's the first time he's slept anywhere but in his own bed in quite some time, and now that there's nothing else to think about, thoughts of his computer come rushing back. His poor computer…
I'm going somewhere with this. I promise.