Chapter Text
Cold.
Hayato couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at Eita anymore. Not without flashbacks from his traitorous mind, his heart trembling as if it were to crack right open.
It used to be effortless–their bond strong in the loud and the quiet. The times when just the others' presence was enough to hatch a smile. Yet now, every time Eita’s eyes met his own, his stomach would drop. It was as if everything they've built over the years–the trust, the comfort–had fallen and left this… weight. He felt cold.
He wanted to be near Eita, wanted to hold his hand and assure himself his friend was still here. He missed him, ached to be able to stand beside him again without his skin burning in fear. But how could he pretend nothing had happened, when everything had changed? How could he burden someone with a mountain of issues with one that he could handle all by himself.
It was as if he were walking a tightrope on their relationship. There were too many things that he was leaving unsaid.
‘I thought we would take on the world together.’
‘What happened to trust? Why didn't you think that I’d care?’
‘Did you really think that leaving was better than staying?’
‘How could I lose you too?’
There were too many looks exchanged when he wasn't looking, pauses in conversations that used to flow with ease. Now, if Hayato even saw a glimpse of Eita’s smile, the knife in his heart twisted. How many of your smiles were real? Did you see me as a real friend?
Eita didn’t deserve this twisted grief Hayato had written up in his head. So he did what he thought was best. He turned away, always finding excuses, always conveniently gone before Eita could catch him. All he could hope was that Eita didn’t notice.
But of course, Eita noticed. Eita always did.
Knowing more than he should was the double-edged blade that had stabbed his friends’ mind and refused to come out.
Hayato was rushing out of the gym after practice when Eita caught him. His voice, the one he had been avoiding yet yearning, shot into the air. “Hayato.”
They rarely ever used their given names in person. Eita’s voice wasn't loud, but Hayato still froze momentarily as it cut in. The weeks of avoidance, of lying to himself saying nothing was wrong between them had finally caught up.
He didn’t stop walking, hoping Eita would let it go. He knew better–Eita never backed down.
“Hayato.” Sharper this time. The edge whenever Eita was done being patient painfully present. Eita was done.
He turned around, and there Eita was, standing arms crossed with his bag strapped along his chest, jaw tight. He looked ready, as if he had prepared for this moment. Now that it had seemingly arrived, he wasn't going to just back down.
“What’s wrong?” Eita’s voice was quieter than he had expected, but the hurt in it spoke volumes. “What's going on?”
Shit. Hayato swallowed hard, his throat dry. He should say something to respond. Anything at all. Yet for all the words he left unsaid, they refused to come out, pressing heavily against his ribs. Eita didn’t wait longer for his answer.
“I get it. I do, seriously. But you can’t just shut me out like this. I know I sound like a damn hypocrite, but–” he paused, eyes flickering like he was trying to hold himself together as well. “We’re still friends. We’re supposed to be better than this.”
But you still couldn't trust me.
Hayato’s gaze dropped down to the ground. Anywhere but looking at his friend before him. It hurt, seeing Eita like this. He knew Eita was hurting too–hurt in a way that he didn't know how to fix. What used to be filled with fleeting touches and warm words, now left with these sharp, jagged edges.
He hated it. It was cold.
He gulped again, as if the air could support his next move.
“I–I don't know how to–” Hayato’s words fell flat, but he tried again. “I’m– I’m not ready to talk about it.” Eita would understand.
“Talk about what?” Eita’s voice was laced with frustration. “You think you're the only one not ready to talk? You think I’m okay with this? Shit, no, that sounds too harsh I–” He took a breath, steadying himself. “I've been trying to talk to you, texting, calling, waiting – hell, I was asking Jin where you were. But you keep vanishing every time! I can’t even catch you after class, or even after practice anymore. It's like– it's like I don't even exist to you anymore.”
Eita. Not existing.
Eita. Dead.
Hayato bunched his hands into fists at his side. He had to say something. Eita was wrong.
“You do exist to me,” his voice broke off softly. “But you don’t get it. Every time I look at you, I see–”
I see your body on the ground, eyes staring up lifelessly as blood pools around you. I see my Lola in that casket, her body being lowered and covered up. I see myself at that funeral, then everything blurs and suddenly it's your funeral. I see a tombstone with her name on it. I see the tombstone with your name on it.
“I can’t keep pretending it’s okay anymore.” He finished. There was silence between them, neither of them daring to continue. Eita looked like he didn’t quite understand what he meant, but the mirrored hurt was all the same.
“Hayato…” his voice softened, and he reached his hand out to him. “You don’t have to be alone. Let’s talk.”
Hayato looked up then, the weight in his chest suffocating him as his friend stepped closer. “I don't know how to be near you without feeling like… I’m not falling apart.”
Shoulders slumping, the anger and confusion that was once on the setter's face melted away, replaced with a sad but gentle smile. “I’ll be right here the whole time. I won’t go.”
The hand was still offered, and hesitantly, he took it.
The walk was quiet, but Hayato soon recognized the building they were approaching. The music hall.
Eita squeezed his hand, nodding to a few students who were still present. Grabbing a marker, his friend scribbled his name down on the whiteboard sign outside a room, before gesturing for him to go inside. It was your standard practice room, with grey padded walls and a carpeted floor. There were three music stands in the corner, along with a few chairs and a metronome.
Dragging two chairs over, Eita sat down, looking expectantly at him. Hayato followed, hands fidgeting nervously.
“So…” the setter began, uncertainty painting his features. “I think I have some idea about what’s up.”
Two weeks ago, Eita came to talk to him. Hayato had assured him he was fine. Eita knows his Lola died.
He told him that he would move on and that he should focus on himself.
“Mhm.” A noncommittal hum. The setter sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Hayato. Look at me. Actually look at me, not that bullshit where you look behind me or at my shirt or something.” Guilty as charged, Eita.
He tried, his gaze moving up till he met the familiar brown of his friend's eyes. He raised his brow, as if challenging him.
Another sigh. “Okay, I’ll stop saying that ‘I know’ because maybe I really don’t and I shouldn’t assume your feelings. But this is about… your Lola, right? And me uh—“ he made a vague gesture with his hands, dropping them. “You know.”
Neither of them wanted to talk about what had happened. Both of them knew what he was referring to.
“I did what you asked, by the way. I’ve been trying to get better, and I’m serious this time.” Hayato scrutinized him, even though he knew he was telling the truth. Even though he had been avoiding the setter, he still kept a watchful eye on his progress. Eita did genuinely seem to be trying. He looked healthier as well, and the bags that weighed underneath his friend's eyes seemed to have shrunk.
“Reon’s been making sure I don’t skip breakfast anymore, and he’s probably going to check and make sure I eat dinner in a bit as well.” Eita huffed, then tilted his head. “But we need to talk. Without you brushing me off by being concerned, and whatever. I know you’re worried, but right now I’m worried about you too. You’re allowed to have feelings at the same time, man.” He shoved his arm, a hint of playfulness being a mask for the concern.
“I don’t even know how to start,” Hayato whispered.
“Then just say anything. Doesn’t have to be the beginning. Just, how are you feeling right now?”
Confused. Sad. Angry.
“Afraid,” is what he settled with. The other boy pursed his lips, nodding in encouragement. “I…”
“Don’t want to lose me?” Eita finished for him. Hayato tensed, eyes wide. How did he—?
Taking in his reaction, he scratched his neck. “You said something to me. When we were on the edge of the roof. ‘ I can’t lose you too.’ That kind of stuck with me, and I’m just guessing that’s what you’re thinking too.” He flexed his fingers, putting his hand before Hayato. “If it helps, you can hold my hand to help make me feel real?”
Hayato took it again. It did help.
“I already told you about what happened.” Eita hummed affirmatively. “I was just… processing. Yeah.”
“I can’t blame you. That’s a shit ton to unpack. And I’m sorry that I put you in that situation in the first place. You shouldn’t have— none of you should have had to experience that. We’re still just kids.” Hayato shook his head.
“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone. Everyone’s to blame, none of us were right.” A small smile.
“I guess you might be right—“
“I am right.” Hayato cut him off. The boy snorted.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right. But it’s unfair that it happened right after you lost your Lola. I know how much she meant to you.” She did. You mean a lot too.
“It was just too much. I’m sorry for avoiding you. But it was too much for me to handle.” He felt a gentle caress on his hand.
“You and I are a lot alike then,” the setter admitted.
“What?”
“I avoided Wakatoshi too. Didn’t want to face him at all. I knew that if he ever caught me alone, I’d spill. I didn’t trust that he would understand. So I avoided him, but he got fed up with me and cornered me in the gym. Long story short, we’re pretty similar.”
Hayato huffed. “Running away from someone who we know we need to talk to?”
“Well, I wouldn’t word it like that—“
“You’re right though. Every time I see you, I keep thinking I’m looking at a ghost or something.” He felt his hand being squeezed. “You’re stupidly good at this comforting thing.”
“Nice bonus from being at my lowest. I have a good general idea about what might help take someone’s mind off things.” Eita said jokingly, letting out a weak laugh. “But I’m glad you’re admitting it. No idea how you all put up with me dodging the question all the time.”
Hayato squeezed back. “It was for someone worth the effort.”
“Oh, you big sap. That’s kinda gay, man.” Eita covered his face. He earned a snort.
“We’re both stupidly bisexual. You literally have a boyfriend!” He pointed out, smirking as a blush ripped across his friend's face.
“Well, uh— we’re not— um… we’re not like, official yet.” He sputtered. Hayato rolled his eyes.
“Public declaration of love, and I’m going to be homophobic. Stole you away from me, bratty bangs.”
“Be quiet.”
“I refuse to be silenced.” A petulant pout made its way upon his face. Eita chuckled before growing serious again.
“Avoidance may work temporarily, hell, it might work for a long ass time and it might give you some security. But yeah, it has a way of biting you back in the ass. So talk to us, okay? Don’t just avoid me. I miss you, sunlight.” There it was. Hayato grinned, a wide one that he hadn’t had in a while.
“Starlight! Aw, hell, I missed this. I was an idiot.”
“Damn straight you were.” Hayato tsked him, and Eita quickly corrected himself. “Damn homo you were.”
“Homo? Seriously?”
“Everything else sounded weird in my head. That sounded the best.” The two of them shared a look, before snorting at each other and laughing softly.
“I really missed you,” Eita admitted when their laughter died out. “Felt like– I dunno how to explain it, it’s kind of stupid but—” He trailed off, looking at the wall for answers.
“Cold?” Hayato finished. He felt cold without Eita’s constant presence around him. Eita gave him a look, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, actually. I did feel cold.” He gave him a smile, “Probably because my sunshine was away–”
“You’re so corny, what the hell does Shirabu see in you?” Hayato pushed at the setter's chest, amused.
“I’m endearing, that’s why!” He shoved back indignantly.
“More like he fell for that pretty face of yours!” Eita huffed, before opening his arms. Understanding, he dove right in for the embrace, knocking them both down to the floor. Eita squawked in surprise.
“You offered!” Hayato shot before the setter could get a word in.
“I didn’t think you would tackle me!”
“I missed you!” Eita squished him in his arms at the reply. His voice grew serious.
“No more running, kay? Also, can we get off the floor? I swear all the brass dump their spit on the floor.”
Hayato gave him an incredulous look. “They what?”
“Well, to get the moisture out really, but they tend to just pour it on the floor.” He explained, as if that was a perfectly normal thing.
“Can we go to your room then? We can hang out with Rere.”
“Reon? Sure. You’re gonna have to come with us for dinner too, though.” Hayato placed his head into the crook of his friend's neck. “I don’t mind.”
Reon simply glanced at them when he opened the door
“Took you two long enough. Now get up, it’s dinner time.”
His reaction said more about them than it did him.