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It was nights like these Shuichi loathed the most.
Maybe it was the cup of coffee he took a tad too soon before going to bed that ensured him this fate. Or the stress his work had brought him today. Perhaps there was no discernible reason for the fact that he was up late at night, with no one to keep him company except his own thoughts. Shuichi’s mind was just sluggish enough for the idea of getting out of bed to sound like a chore. However, not far enough gone to finally allow him to sink into sleep’s forgiving grip.
He shifted in his bed for what felt like the fiftieth time and a frustrated sigh passed his lips. Shuichi reached out to grab his phone. If he was going to be staying up for a while, he could at least make it more bearable. Though it wouldn’t help, the prospect of having to stay in his head for the whole time was worse.
Minutes were wasted on mindless entertainment, to pass time until he’d inevitably pass out. He couldn’t focus on any of his puzzle games. While he read about subjects that would’ve normally captured his interest, right now, he had to read sentences twice before they got through to him. Shuichi was tired, no doubt about it, yet something prevented him from resting. He couldn’t put his finger on it, much to his annoyance.
He ended up rereading text messages from his friends, a smile creeping on his features. This was a bit better, at the very least. Shuichi opened the ones he’d shared with Korekiyo. The conversations they shared had been pleasant. He would often share articles or pictures after discovering Shuichi was more willing to listen than most, usually accompanied by a wall of text. He didn’t mind. In fact, it was rather nice to see the anthropologist grow so excited about his studies.
Though he had to admit he’d been a bit nervous to approach Korekiyo at first because of his somewhat intimidating appearance and more … Eccentric quirks. But once he did, he’d been fascinated by his stories.
Shuichi remembered his soothing voice, how it enthralled him to cling to every word coming from his masked mouth. He recalled how those tales managed to pull him away from his worries, if for a little bit, and allowed him to focus on something else entirely. It was undeniable he was a good storyteller. Once he’d approached him the first time he’d returned to talk more regularly, truly captured. A friend through unusual means.
(That was completely ignoring the fact his heart seemed to speed up whenever he was around him, the teasing words sometimes sent his way having way more of an impact on him than if spoken by anyone else. There was nervousness, a crushing one, not to mess up around him, not to ruin the friendship they had built.)
A memory floated to his mind. The two of them hunched together over a book Korekiyo had wanted to show him, shoulders nearly brushing together and eyes gliding over the pages as if they were one. It was the most content he’d been in a long while, sharing a comfortable silence. The thought of made a flash of warmth dance over his cheeks.
Maybe that was what he needed, a story from Korekiyo...? He was honestly exhausted and in his tired mind, it made sense. If being told stories by him normally made him relax, they would right now, too. And that was what he wanted; to ease and drift off. Shuichi’s eyes had started burning from looking at his phone, attempts at sleep continuing to be unsuccessful. He’d absentmindedly exited out of his texting app and into his contacts, pressing on Korekiyo’s before rational thought caught up with him.
His finger hovered over the call button.
And then he pressed it.
At once, as if a switch had been flicked, fear and regret flooded over him like a tidal wave. It washed away the sleepiness that had clouded his thoughts moments prior and left him more awake than he’d been the entire night.
What was he even doing, calling him at this hour? Surely, Korekiyo would be asleep or unwilling to talk. What if he’d been exhausted and desperate to get to bed and he was now interrupting the rest he wanted so much?
With each second passing, his chest tightened more and when he was about to end the call, it was answered. His heart stopped for a moment. Though he was aware he probably shouldn’t be freaking out this much, he couldn’t help it.
“...Shuichi? Is there something wrong?” Korekiyo’s voice sounded on the other end of the line. Even if Shuichi had wanted to hang up, it was now too late for that, he owed him an explanation. If not, it would only lead to him worrying. Thankfully, he didn’t speak with the grogginess you’d expect of someone who just woke up. There was a possibility he had been up as well, one he was hoping for.
“Ah, s-sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you- You could’ve been asleep, and, uh, it probably isn’t the best time for me to call, I just … ” He sputtered, eyes darting around his dark room, an action the other wouldn’t be able to take note of. Korekiyo was quick to continue as he started trailing off.
“It is quite alright, no need to fret. I hadn’t attempted to sleep yet.” At those words, his lips quirked up, a chunk of his stress evaporating at once. He wouldn’t keep him here for too long. “What is the reason you’re calling me at this hour? Could you simply not wait to tomorrow to hear me again?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice and heat buzzed underneath his skin. Did Korekiyo say such things to everyone, or only him?
Shuichi swallowed, hoping the noise wasn’t audible. “...I couldn’t sleep.” His fingers dug into the sheets. Was it weird to simply say it? This entire conversation was a mistake, one that would end up on his list of worst regrets in the morning.
But then he remembered who he was speaking to. Korekiyo was likely the least judging person in the world, taking every part of a person, positive and negative, and accepting it. Not only that, he saw the good in it all. Perhaps that would be his opinion of this call as well, another sign of humanity’s beauty. Shuichi calmed down more.
“And then, you decide to call me, of all people? How fascinating, dearest.” Amusement thickly coated his tone and he let out a little laugh. But he didn’t seem to do so out of cruel enjoyment. The sound was a lot softer than usual, closer to a giggle than anything else. He liked it.
Shuichi’s face was starting to burn up further. He shouldn’t. Those weird thoughts racing through his head had to be a part of sleep deprivation and nothing else.
“So, you can’t seem to catch sleep tonight... “ Korekiyo said after he’d quieted down again, seemingly reverting to his normal, serious self. “You came to the conclusion I was the one who could help. How can I assist you?” Shuichi didn’t allow an awkward silence to form, though his voice was barely above a mumble.
“I was wondering if you could maybe read me a story? I think, uh, that would help.” Korekiyo hummed in reply. And, for a moment, Shuichi indulged the idea that he wasn’t wearing his mask on the other end of the line, revealing his features as he spoke to him. Seeing his lips was a nice idea, before he forcefully shoved that to the back of his mind.
“I suppose that can be arranged. It certainly wouldn’t be difficult.” The last sliver of uncertainty crept up on him, escaping through his lips.
“Don’t you mind? It’s late and I don’t want to be a-”
“You’re not in the slightest. I said I would do it.” He cut him off, aware of what he was going to say. “If you wish for me to tell you a story, I will. It would be my pleasure to do so. I am flattered you consider my voice to be soothing enough to have to ability to lull you to sleep.” Korekiyo left no room for argument.
He laid down after a moment of hesitation, shifting until he was comfortable and holding his phone between shoulder and ear instead of his hand. Before he could say he could start if he wanted, Korekiyo mumbled something else.
“You’ll never be a bother, Shuichi.“ He didn’t imagine that, did he? A wamth spread through his chest, unlike the nervous butterflies messing with him previously, the sensation was a lot more comforting now. He didn’t even notice he was smiling at first.
“I- T-thank you, Kiyo, um-“ His tongue felt tied, he didn’t know how to voice what he wanted into words and because of that, he went silent.
“I apologize, I’ll try to be less direct next time. I have to admit you are a little too easy to fluster from time to time.” Shuichi sighed through his nose. This meant his suspicions were confirmed, whether this was a good or a bad thing, he still wasn’t sure. “It’s cute.”
Maybe it was a good thing, then, in his eyes. If this would end up in a mess or not was yet to be seen, still, this was a new record for the amount of times he could blush within a couple of minutes. But before he was able to form a coherent reply, Korekiyo continued talking, smile clear in his tone.
“Shall I get started with the story?”
He knew he’d have more to worry about than just his sleep schedule tomorrow, still, he’d try to relax for now. Shuichi nodded, before realizing Korekiyo wouldn’t be able to see.
“Yes, go ahead.” There was a slight anticipation making his heart speed up, but he took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down.
Korekiyo cleared his throat. “Well, as you mentioned an inability to sleep, one particular piece came to mind. There is a mythical character in Western and North European, the sandman, who sprinkles sand on the eyes of people while they sleep, to ensure good dreams.“ Listening was pleasant. He was able to direct all his attention on him and allow his eyes to drift half shut, voice like warm honey filling his head with clouds and causing his mind to drift.
“There is one particular story about him, involving a little boy named Hjalmar who he told stories to every day for an entire week…”
It didn’t take long until Korekiyo’s sentences started blurring together. The inside of his head was like mush. It was hard to form thoughts and he was sure he was on the verge of passing out. Every time he tried to focus on his words, he fell away further, consciousness slipping through his fingers like sand. There were weights attached to his eyelids. They pulled them down until it wasn’t possible to open them again and they fluttered shut. Darkness swallowed his vision whole.
Korekiyo’s voice was the last thing he heard, though he couldn’t make out what he was telling him.
He woke up the next morning, feeling more rested than he had in days. But it didn’t take long for a realization to settle. Much to his embarrassment, he’d fallen asleep in the middle of Korekiyo telling his story. His phone had slid down from its position on his shoulder and, thankfully, he hadn’t broken it while sleeping. His story hadn’t been boring, Shuichi was just that exhausted. He desperately hoped Korekiyo wouldn’t be upset with him while he opened his phone with slightly trembling hand.
But there was only a text waiting for him to be read.
I hope you had the sweetest dreams, Shuichi. If you are ever in need of me again, you are always free to call.
His heart felt aflutter, smile so bright it challenged the the sun’s rays peeking through his opened blinds. It seemed there had been absolutely nothing for him to worry about, as was more often the case than he’d like to admit.
Yes, maybe this situation had ended up alright after all.