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Sobering darkness, deafening silence. Little ticks of the clock throws one's heart into many, many ambivalence. Contradictions galore, shrouding one in the reluctance of taking steps and the frustration of being torn apart in half. There is nothing more bare than the truth laid naked in front of one's eyes during a gloomy night full of slivers of thoughts floating every once in a while, and yet, the heart often chooses to scream instead, throwing tantrums through an intangible sharp pain in the chest or overwhelming explosion of tears. Those nights come as if death; unexpected and all so suddenly, taking away what little happiness one has before they knock on the door. Emotions blur away the fleeting moments of clarity, destroying what is usually made through connections that could be understood by logic and transforming it into waves of unexplainable feelings.
Such misfortune, unfortunately, falls upon one boy tonight. Amidst the thunderstorm outside, his head is laid on the table in front of him while he uses his folded arms as some sort of makeshift pillow to dampen his sobs, although his efforts could easily be thwarted if anyone were to see his shoulders bouncing up and down to the rhythm of his whimpers. Only his dyed blond hair could be seen, but his pain is made apparent by how tight he grips his own arms. He'd have dug into his own flesh if his nails were long enough, but perhaps, it'd be better that way. This sharp, excruciating pain in his chest will never go away for this entire rainy night, not to mention the sudden and throbbing sensation he feels from one of his knees. He doesn't know who, but someone definitely stabbed an invisible knife into his chest, burying it so deep that only the handle could be seen before twisting it.
Fog fills his mind as he could hear nothing but the things he despises. Words that he buries deep down during the day make their vengeful appearance tonight, loudly announcing themselves on a stage decorated with blood-red ornaments. Memories that he avoid to acknowledge no longer whisper their existence into his ears; they're screaming and nailing it deep down into his head as if a parasitic mushroom spreading its never-ending roots below the ground, etching itself to the point that it's immovable. The worst part of it all is how this fog that deludes his mind makes everything extra painful.
There is nothing that he could do but feel them, but that's pointless to him. They'll just come back and this agony feels way too unbearable that he'll wake the other boy sleeping upstairs in this little café. He'll just sit here and shut his pain up until dawn. He won't get anyone into this troublesome mess that he has this way…
…or so he thought.
"Ryuji?"
A gentle voice comes to send shock down his spine, forcing him to jolt his head up in reflex. The sky suddenly explodes and a lighting bolt strikes the Earth down. It happened just for a split second, but it was bright enough that anyone, including the teen that decided to come downstairs, could see how tearful and surprised the crying man's face was. The ground might be the one that was struck by a thunder flash, but the rush of emotions the other boy felt when the sky gave way for his eyes felt just as intense.
"Ryuji!"
Hasty steps make their way along the cold floor to the faux-blond sitting on one of the tables. He's now not alone with his bland cup of milk that's not even warm by his side.
"Ryuji, what happened?!"
A pair of arms come around his body and wrapped him in it. Great, now he's got this boy worried. Everything was going according to plan until now. Why did he have to come down?
"Aki–“
The instant he opens his mouth, another sharp pain shoots through his chest like no other. This one is so intense that it's so painful, it's too painful. It comes like a huge barrage of knives stabbing one little spot on his body, or perhaps like a bullet shot at point-blank range, piercing through his body before leaving him lifeless. He grips his chest with all his might, his body limping towards the other boy next to him while he chokes. Something... or many things are about to come out of him, both through his mouth and bursting out of his chest. He feels like exploding, bursting with a time bomb he didn't know he had. His body tenses up, and he could do nothing in his agony. Nothing.
"Ryuji! Hold on!"
That panicked voice shoots even more pain through his chest. He can't hold it in anymore. Everything is coming out of his control and he's flailing to regain his composure. The moment his tears break down his dam and his voice makes its way out in the form of screams, he could feel it, deep inside him, how another thing breaks down. Something that's been standing for quite some time now. Something that he's been building to hide everything. Something that he uses so that no one can even take a peek inside his heart. It's breaking down, not little by little, but crumbling down like a tower destroyed in half by a lighting.
"W-why...," coherence starts to make its way through his many wails, "Does... does it have... to be... like this?"
Indeed, why?
"It's fine, everything's fine," the other boy's voice, ever so calmly, soothes its way into his ears. It's unfortunate that his explosion blocks everything from coming in, but at least he could feel another hand in his. He grips it tightly and he could feel a soft, warm skin meeting his sweaty and trembling hand.
"I'm sorry...," he says, not even knowing what he intends to express with his words. All that he knows now is his buried feelings uttered in a shaky and coarse voice, "I'm sorry, 'Kira... I'm sorry, Ma..."
"There's no need to be sorry. You've done nothing wrong," the words sound so reassuring and welcoming, yet they still patiently fall on deaf ears.
"I've... I've lost...," his grip tightens and his hand trembles even more, "The track... the... the sch–scholar... ship... everything. I've lost... everything."
Another lighting strikes, and another pained scream comes with flood of tears.
–
It's 2 in the morning.
The lights have now been turned on, substituting the previously entangling darkness, enabling one to see the cleaned counter and tables in the café. The thunderstorm has calmed down as well, albeit only a little, but a light drizzle with occasional flickering sky is better than heavy water drops knocking tirelessly on the window and roof.
Silence stays still, although now traces of warmth could also be felt in the air as a delicious whiff of a warm cup of coffee milk swirls and twirls, alluringly dancing around to invite anyone into a fleeting moment of sweet solace.
On one of the tables, there sit two teenagers in love. One who has a spiky blond hair rests his head on the other's shoulder, the one with the curly black hair, who also does the same thing in a position where they hug each other. Little whimpers could sometimes be heard escaping the blond's mouth along with his trembling body, something that the other teen can feel clearly as he gives gentle and warm strokes on his back.
"I'm sorry," says the whimpering teen with a weak voice, almost whispering.
"Ssshh, it's okay. I'm here," a light kiss lands on his wet cheek, something that helps him feel a bit calmer.
"I was just... thinking," he starts, trying his best to not let his voice suddenly cracks, "About fame."
"Fame?"
"Yeah."
"As a member of the Phantom Thieves?"
"As me."
"As you?" the teen stroking his back asks again.
"Before–" he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for another wave of pain, "Before that bastard, I was all fine and set with tracks. Got girls chasin' after me. Chocolates and letters everywhere, but those ain't the thing that hurts me the most."
"What is it then?"
"It's the scholarship," he continues, "My fame meant free college. Fame means helping my Ma. That was the most important thing for me, but I lost it..."
The comforting teen can feel a tight grip on his back. Strangely, it's not even painful for him. He plants a light kiss on the blond's bare shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"I know I've been goin' on and on 'bout fame and all'at, being happy whenever we get other people to admit we exist after Kaneshiro, but I guess... it's just somethin' I carry over ‘cause of how I used to see fame as the same thing as helpin' my Ma for a long time," he utters all his words slowly, afraid that he'll break down again if he speaks on his usual pace, "It makes me feel useless... I dunno. I'm sorry, Akira."
"Ryuji," he feels his lover letting go of his hug before feeling his hands on his waist and a piercing gaze aimed straight at his own eyes with a solemn affection, "It's fine. It's not your fault, okay? You've done your best. You're not useless."
"But I regret it," he admits, shifting his eyes away from the grey pair in front of him, "I'm happy with you and the others, but... sometimes I think of what could have been and somehow still feel regret, y'know."
"I do, too," a hand lifts his chin back to face the black-haired teen, "We all do."
His eyes widen, but his next words still come in the form of a weak whisper, "For real?"
A faint smile forms on the other teen's face, "For real. It can't be helped, things would have been so much easier if we didn't have to risk our lives, after all.
"But here I am. Here we are. And I...," he pulls him slowly into another hug, "...wouldn't trade you for a better life, Ryuji.”
Another explosion of emotion is coming, but this time, it feels like it's slowly crawling and not about to burst. Instead, he feels his whole body slowly becoming warm and fuzzy while still feeling the intensity of it. Fortunately, it's not as overwhelming as before. Nonetheless, another drop of tear makes its trail on his cheek as he returns the hug and buries his face into his lover's shoulder, "Thank you, Akira. I love you."
"I love you too."
Silence stills in once again, but now tinged with even more warm hues here and there, shrouding the couple with the space they need. The clock marches on mercilessly, and yet, here they are, not moving in the face of the approaching dawn signaled by the ticking seconds and the untouched cup of coffee milk losing its heat. All that matters now is them, and only them, oblivious to the fact that the heavy thunderstorm outside has stopped, leaving only little and sparse drops in its wake. The sun starts to sheepishly peek through the tall buildings, ready to start a new day after a night of life pouring down into the Earth.