Work Text:
Kata. Kata. Kata.
The only light in the room sources itself from the touch screen in front of his eyes. The contrast is near blinding, but Yusaku resists the urge to blink.
The apologetic-looking Kusanagi-san had him go back to his rented apartment today. The café had a surprising influx of customers that lead to no end to Kusanagi-san's work, and because Yusaku was a high school student who had school the next day, the café owner had insisted that he go back home and get some rest.
Which is fine and all.
Yusaku is used to being alone, especially in his room.
Only, he isn’t intending to sleep before he finishes the software framework of his latest innovation.
Kata. Kata. Kata.
The air feels strangely cold tonight.
Yusaku huddles up as best as he can, his eyes and fingers never straying for even a second from the screen of his tablet.
Kata kata kata.
The rest of the room is dark. It is always dark.
It is the basement, after all.
An unlit bulb hangs from the ceiling, but the switches are too far away to bother with.
Kata kata kata.
The stench of urine is revolting, souring the already coppery air.
It seriously sucks that the bathroom is right there.
Katakatakata.
In the distant, distant distance, a shiver strums the invisible cords of the night like the strings of a wailing harp.
He readjusts his posture, sitting up straight.
Katakatakata. Katakatakata.
The frost creeping down his spine cracks and breaks at the movement.
Their pieces fall to the ground, shattering like crystal.
Katakatakatakatakatakata.
The shadows are coils thick as ropes, unyielding as steel.
Snakes and serpents watch him from a slithering pool of honeyed poison, darkness with gleaming eyes.
Tak!
A lashing tail snaps sharply in the heart of the void, echoing hollowly.
Tak!
His back tingles. His throat constricts-
「Hey.」TAK!
Yusaku starts. Air rushes into his lungs just a tad too quickly.
He spies, from the corner of his eye, the gradient of matted grey creeping up to his thigh.
Listens, with baited breath, to the world beyond his sphere.
「Hey, Playmaker-sama.」
The silence is deafening, so utterly quiet he can swear to hearing dust settle.
No one is coming.
Of course no one is.
He is this place’s only tenant.
「Playmaker-sama, helloooo~? You can hear me can’t you?」
“What?”
Finally acquiescing that annoying voice, he speaks up.
His throat is surprisingly parched. Where is the water bottle he prepared earlier?
「Aren’t you a human? Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?」
He gropes the darkness blindly with his right hand. It should be there.
He always hides it there.
Ah, there it is.
Phew.
He grabs the cold plastic, his left still typing away. Icy water runs down his throat, wonderful, freezing cold water that douses the fires of his overheating brain.
「Wow, you are human. You didn't seem like you needed water.」
“Keep quiet. I’m working.”
Right. Back to work. He has to, at least, try to finish this by today. Or is it already tomorrow?
Kata. Kata. Kata.
「In that dusty old corner under the staircase?」
Hmph, wrong function. He should be using if instead.
Kata kata kata.
「Don’t humans usually work on desks, like the one you have over there?」
Katakatakata.
Wait. Something is wrong.
「Oi. Are you listening to me?」
He chews at his lip, thinking hard. The tips of his fingers feel numb.
Tak.
Patience. He tells himself. Patience.
Think.
One ceases to be human if the mind does not think.
「Hello?」
Tak!
Look.
The solution cannot be found if the eyes do not seek.
「Ignoring me, huh? Fine. I’ll shut up, but can you like,
See.
TAK!
stop trembling? It’s annoying.」
He finally spots the offending line of code in his program.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
What a stupid, amateurish mistake. Mentally rolling his eyes, Yusaku quickly moves to correct the error.
Kata kata kata.
The rest of the night is quiet, perfect for thinking, and so Yusaku lets his mind fall into the rhythmic tapping of the tablet's keypad.
It eventually comes to his attention that his program is not going to be completed until an hour or two after dawn. But that’s okay. He’ll just take a break when he does and get ready for breakfast.
His stomach has been roaring in protest for hours now.
There isn’t much food here to begin with. Maybe a piece of stale bread or two. Add a glass of water from the sink and that was all he needed for school.
Not the most delectable meal, but he’s had worse.
Kata. Kata. Kata.
His mind absently wanders to piping hot hotdogs and the fragrant aroma of warm, freshly ground coffee.
Then again, maybe Kusanagi-san will open early later. He should drop by the café, see if the man is already up and awake.
If he's lucky, he’d also get a free ride to school and a few minutes of shut-eye.
Kusanagi-san always did have the best taste in music.