Chapter Text
His mind was racing, the questions filling his mind endless. He needed to find out what was going on. Was Hizashi delirious from sickness? He clearly wasn't well. With the sharp prickle against his neck pulling Shouta back to reality, he acted quickly. Struggling beneath the other for a moment, he brought up his hands and shoved. Hizashi went easily, apparently to weak to fight back or hold his own. But staring at him now, Shouta couldn't see a dangerous glint in the man's eyes.
"Hizashi," he started, "What the hell is going on?" No response.
"Come on, talk to me. This isn't like you." Shouta pleaded, searching the other man for at least a hint of recognition.
A spark. Dull green eyes simmered beneath a curtain of limp gold hair.
"Are you sick?" Shouta was hesitant to reach out, to touch the other after what had just transpired. But in spite of that he did so, fingers barely brushing the fabric of Hizashi's jacket before he was jerking away from Shouta's touch. So they were back to no touching. That was good in a way, maybe it meant he was calming down. Watching as his gaze dropped to his lap, Shouta gently tried again.
"Hizashi?" When his shoulders tensed, Shouta knew he'd broken through to his friend, and his voice softened.
"Are you alright now?" Hizashi seemed to hesitate. When his gaze lifted to Shouta's bruised neck, he flinched at the sight of it with a pained look. Then, his face contorted into disgust quickly. He was disgusted at himself, by the thirst-induced haze that had drawn him to Shouta's apartment. Had led him to attack him.
Hizashi reeled back, pressing himself against the opposite couch arm. He had to leave, had to get out of this place. His thoughts were a muddled jumble, combined with a sinking feeling made for something very unpleasant.
He messed up.
As Shouta opened his mouth to speak, the other shot up from the couch. Swaying as the world spun around him, Hizashi could vaguely make out that the man before him was saying something. But he wasn't listening, he couldn't for the life of him with how his head swan was it the thirst, or the anxious feeling creeping up his spine and settling in the pits of his stomach like rocks?
Stumbling, Hizashi only briefly noticed as he banged his knee into the corner of the coffee table. Something to worry about later. A hand closes around his wrist, calloused fingers against his skin. Hizashi was quick to wrench his hand out of the other's grip and rush to the door. Pulling open the front door after a momentary struggle, Shouta was helpless to gape and watch as he disappeared through the door.
And just like that, he was gone.
After that, he hadn't seen or heard from Hizashi. It was like he dropped off of the face of the planet after the incident. Shouta had even downloaded Instagram to check on him.
Nothing. It was frustrating, not knowing if Hizashi was alright. Shouta needed to know what was going on, to see him. He needed to know the other was okay. But he didn't know what to do, or what to say for that matter. So he picked up his phone, and called someone who would.
"Hello?" After a few rings, Nemuri's voice filtered through the speakers of his phone.
"Hey Nemuri. Can we meet? I've got..." Trailing off, he paused to choose his next words carefully. "Something important to talk about."
"Oh? This is exciting, you hardly ever call me up for something like this!" She chuckled, "Daichi's at four?"
After a quick confirmation and goodbyes, Shouta hung up and lazily got to getting himself ready. Sweatpants and long sleeve, with a simple scarf carelessly wrapped around his neck. Glancing at the clock, he found it was a quarter to four now, just enough time to walk to the ramen place and be on time. The walk over hardly tired him, and as he stepped inside Nemuri waved him over.
She didn't waste time it seemed, already seated at a table. Taking a seat on the opposite end of the booth, Shouta found the atmosphere to be warm and familiar. The curtained lights casting amber across the restaurant, the buzz of murmured conversation and the clink of utensils a comfortable backdrop to it all.
"So, what's the deal?" Nemuri's voice startles him out of his thoughts, and Shouta shifts uncomfortable suddenly unsure of himself and how to begin.
"Well, there's someone." She brightened up immediately, leaning partly across the thick open table with red painted lips curled into an excited smile.
Someone?"
"Not like that! Nemuri, this is... serious," With his words, Shouta seemed to wilt then, eyes downcast as he wondered how to exactly continue with this.
"Something happened recently- Nothing like you're thinking, but I haven't seen him since. I'm worried."
"Well, depending on the situation, he might need time to cool off." Reaching across, Nemuri rested a soft, reassuring hand atop his own. "How long has it been?"
"A week and a half." She pursed her lips at that.
"Have you tried contacting him since?" He shook his head, Shouta hadn't been able to bring himself to even open their texts.
God, he was acting like a heartbroken schoolgirl.
"Reach out to him then! You never know," Nemuri smiled kindly, but Shouta hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. Their conversation came to a halt when a waitress came to the table, bearing two bowls and glasses. In front of them each was a familiar, yet well-prepared bowl of ramen with a delicious aroma.
"You already ordered for me?" He was amused by this as he stared down at his usual order for a moment, before picking up his chopsticks and glancing over as the two glasses were set down.
"You get the same thing every time, figured you'd appreciate a shorter wait." Nemuri smiled, and she was right. They both murmured their respective Itadakimasu before digging in.
Later that night as Shouta was preparing for bed, he glanced at his phone which lay on the nightstand seemingly debating something. Decision made, he picked up his phone and opened their line of texts before staring down at them. Mustering his courage the best he could, he quickly tapped something out only for his thumb to hover over the send button.
Click.
To: Hizashi
[Hey. How are you?]
Lame, but sufficient. Tossing his phone onto the charging dock, Shouta ran his hands over his face with an exasperated sigh before finally settling in bed for the night.
Waking up in the morning was always a hassle, but he had a job to do and things to get done. It was Monday, so that meant he had an eight thirty lecture to prepare for. Six am left him with plenty of time to shower and get ready. By seven he was driving out, and half an hour later he was sitting behind his deck and going over the outline of the day's lesson plan.
Two minutes before class began as still groggy students filed in, it occurred to him that he'd never bothered to check his phone. Glancing down, he slipped it from his pocket and frowned as he found that there were no new notifications.
Disappointing.
Shouta got out of work at three thirty that day, give or take a few minutes since a student had approached him after he'd wrapped up the lesson. Not that it was a problem, he appreciated when students took a genuine interest in the subject matter. Seeing as it was still daylight out, Shouta figured it wasn't too late to pick up things from the grocery store.
As he drove, he felt the same gnawing feeling of anxiety that had plagued him the entire day. What if Hizashi was hurt, or worse? He still hadn't answered his text from the night before, and it made Shouta worried. Pulling into the store lot he stepped out before beginning his lazy trek in. He could hardly concentrate as he pushed his cart along, trawling through the aisle's bread selection numbly.
Sighing as he dropped a loaf into the basket, Shouta glanced up tiredly before pausing. What? A familiar glint of gold was in the corner of his eye, and when he turned to get a better look he stiffened. Cascading past broad shoulders like golden silk was a familiar blonde standing at the other end looking over something.
An indescribable feeling twisted in his guy before a stark pang of hurt. So that's how it was? With a sudden newfound resolve, he schooled his face into an impassive look. Abandoning his cart, Shouta found himself marching towards Hizashi, but as he did he found his previous resolve crumble. What would he even say? Hey, quit ignoring me I'm worried about you ass.
Maybe, but this required more finesse he supposed. Stopping behind Hizashi, he clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Oi." Smooth.
Hizashi startles at the sound of his voice and touch of his hand. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder at Shouta with a nervous glint to his eyes. Shit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment as he seemed to struggle to find words.
"Shouta-"
"Where the hell have you been?" Shouta didn't mean for his words to come out as forceful as they did, but it couldn't be helped. His worry rode over anything else.
"I- That's none of your business." Hizashi snipped, turning away and attempting to shrug off the other's hands with hopes for the conversation to end. No matter how much it hurt.
"Like hell it isn't," Shouta didn't relent, even with the obvious dismissal. "You disappear on my for over a week with no expla-"
"Just stop! Stop." The blonde was tensing up, the paper in his hand crinkling as he clutched it tighter than he needed to.
"Hizashi. I'm worried about you, and..." He sighed, letting the hand that had still been hovering over his shoulder drop to his side to pluck at the hem of his shirt, tone hardening. "I think you at least owe me an explanation after what happened."
Hizashi didn't respond, and for a moment Shouta was worried that he was simply going to be ignored once more. But then Hizashi turned towards him, and the abject fear on his face takes Shouta aback.
"How..." Eyes looking anywhere but at him, his voice was heartbreakingly small, tugging at Shouta's heartstrings. "How could I even possibly explain it? You would never understand."
"Try me," Shouta is form, remaining resolute even as the other hesitated, before finally relenting.
"You can't freak out, promise?"
"Promise."