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Respecting privacy has never been Mayoi’s strong suit.
There was just something about the way people would sleep blissfully, vulnerable and completely unaware of his presence stood next to them. He never touched, only watched, observed how the chests of those he viewed rose and fell, the raw essence of life laid before Mayoi’s eyes in the form of each breath drawn and released. He’s seen them smile from quaint dreams, watched them shuffle during their nightmares, wondering to himself what they could possibly be dreaming of. Some of them made painting the picture easy, with sleep talking a surprisingly common quirk across the idols at ES. Mayoi has heard cries for family, lost ones— and sometimes there were mumblings silly enough to nearly make him laugh and blow his cover. But he’s careful, knowing that even the slightest slip-up can cause him to pay hell for his sick and twisted little hobby. He simply smiles and covers his mouth with a gloved hand, barring any giggles from the heart from escaping. This was his secret, his guilty little pleasure.
It was far easier getting to know someone in their sleep.
One person in particular he never watched, however.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested— more than anything else, he was dying to know what awaited him beyond those curtains door past bedtime. He had already watched over Aira once— and he knew full well that the boy was probably aware. Knowing that was a possibility would make Mayoi’s stomach churn whenever he’d think about it, but it wasn’t enough to deter him from indulging in his guilty pleasure. He knew it was wrong, but to him, so long as he wasn’t caught, no one could complain, right? He wasn’t hurting anyone after all...
As for the other two, he knew as well that Hiiro’s instincts were sharp, and for fear that the boy would snap him like a twig out of instinct, he avoided involving him in his nighttime watch. As for Tatsumi…
...He knew.
He most certainly knew. Mayoi was sure of this.
Besides the man’s seemingly God-given ability to sense the presence of wickedness, his ears were alarmingly sharp. Mayoi could recall the many times he’s whispered something in self-degradation under his breath only to get a scolding. And more impressively, he could hear him from the ceiling when Mayoi was feeling too unwilling to even show his face to the pastor. Certainly, Tatsumi at times may have acted oblivious, and sometimes in a way that Mayoi could consider ‘adorable’, but he knew for a fact that he wasn’t naive, nor was he a fool. He could pick up on his knowing smiles, and yet at the same time, Mayoi knew that they were genuine-- free of ridicule. It was confusing, but it was all the more reason for him to be intrigued about what he would be like without such a guard up.
After multiple counts of pushing himself to step up the bunk ladder to lay his eyes on Tatsumi’s sleeping visage, he finally managed to succeed in doing so on their last night together as a unit. It was a tiring day, naturally with the four having to move around their belongings. Though Tatsumi didn’t have much to move in the first place, he’d offered his hand in assisting both Aira and Hiiro-- Though it was mostly Aira who he helped, considering the idol museum that the boy needed moved. Hiiro wasn’t much of a problem, being in a similar state to Tatsumi in terms of material belongings in their possession.
By the end of the day, Tastumi was the first to head to bed, followed by Hiiro, then Aira.
And that’s when Mayoi made his move.
Knowing full well he would be sound asleep, tired from the day just passed, surely it should give Mayoi time for even at least a little peak, right?
Gently pulling back the curtains, Mayoi’s eyes, well-accustomed to the dark peers inside. He finds Tatsumi sound asleep, a hand on his chest atop a little notebook, and in his other hand a pen in-between his fingers. He’d fallen asleep while writing, Mayoi muses to himself.
How adorable.
Feeling a bit more confident, Mayoi pulls the curtains back a bit more— but when Tatsumi turns his head ever so slightly, Mayoi feels both his heart and time stop.
He hears a heartbeat thumping in his ears, and with how fast its rhythm was, he knew it was his own and not Tatsumi’s. He feels a bead of sweat drip from the side of his head and down, and his throat becomes dry. Was this it? Will this be the end of what camaraderie he’s built with Tatsumi? Surely, he would be furious with him. After all, what a horrendous breach of privacy! After Tatsumi has confided in him? Given him all his trust? Was that not enough?
Mayoi can imagine it now— He can imagine his scowl, with brows furrowed and piercing violet eyes that feel as if they could stare into his soul, burning him from the inside. He waited for it to happen, but with every second passed, Mayoi’s heart began to slow until normal until he was calm enough to realize that the worst-case scenario had just been avoided.
Mayoi feels nothing but relief, and how disgusting he feels for his urge to heave a sigh.
He decides that any longer and his catastrophizing could very well come true. Taking a few steps down the ladder, he pauses when he hears Tatsumi shift again.
And again.
And again.
Mayoi’s grip on the bars grows tighter, and with his curiosity getting the best of him and beckons him to climb back up.
“…nough-”
Mayoi nearly lets go of the bars at the sound of his voice, and he feels his heart jump all the way to his throat. He readies his apologies out of instinct, but he bites back the urge to outright lurt them out.
“I’m... sorry…”
He hears the tremor in Tatsumi’s voice, and when Mayoi manages to muster the courage to look at him he finds him robbed of every ounce of peace he’d once seen in him just moments ago. So even he gets nightmares, is the first thought that comes to Mayoi’s mind.
His once panicked expression melts to that of sympathy, though panic sets in again when he realizes he doesn’t know what to do. He’s frozen like a deer in headlights as he watches Tatsumi’s head turn from side to side, his hand now gripping and wrinkling his shirt while incoherent snippets of his dream leaves his lips, all barely above a whisper now.
Knowing he’s seen this now, Mayoi can’t possibly go to sleep.
He moves a hand and hovers it over Tatsumi’s before eventually settling down on top of it, and much to his surprise, his body relaxes. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Mayoi hangs his head. With this, surely God will overlook his sins, right? He didn’t really do much of anything, but he still did a good thing, right?
“Mayoi-san?”
He nearly chokes on his own spit. God must really hate him, huh?
“T… T-Tatsumi-san. Um…”
He tries to gather his words, going through every excuse under the moonlit night for him being there, holding his hand in the middle of the night while everyone’s asleep. He tries, nearly frying his brain in the process.
“...Good evening.”
And that’s all he could manage to spit out.
At that point, he wonders if he’ll get struck by lightning next. Given his horrible luck, it should be plausible at this point. When he hears a lighthearted little laugh from Tatsumi, he can’t help but feel smaller, unable to even look at him in the eyes in both guilt and embarrassment.
“Good evening to you, too… Did I wake you?”
What? He should be asking that— in fact, he should be the one apologizing! Pushing that thought aside, it reminds him of an excuse he could very well use. A little white lie it may be, but he can make up for it later, without letting Tatsumi know he will be, of course.
“Y-yes, you were um… Talking in your sleep. I was worried.”
“Is that so?” Tatsumi sounds convinced. He certainly didn’t sound the least bit upset. Relieved, Mayoi simply nods along and watches Tatsumi reach for the small face towel folded by his pillow. He watches him wipe his face, rubbing gently against the side of his face that had been stained with tears and sweat. Mayoi didn’t even realize he started crying in his sleep… He feels his heart ache.
“Did you…” Unconsciously, his fingers gently curl around Tatsumi’s hand. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Tatsumi pauses, hesitation evident in his eyes. He parts his lips, ready with a response, only to close them again as he rethinks. He looks at Mayoi and their gazes meet, and the look in Mayoi’s eyes loosens the walls he’s set around his heart. He remembers a similar time not too long ago, with the same feeling of defeat and vulnerability.
He remembers the fear that came with opening his heart, and at the same time he remembers how wonderful it felt to let his guard down.
His gaze falls towards their hands, and he laces their fingers together. “Yes. I did.” It’s his turn to squeeze Mayoi’s hand, the side of him that craves the comfort and touch of another that he’s kept repressed for so long now rearing its head. He was certain he was doing a good job of keeping it hidden, but there was something about the man before him that made it all the more difficult— no, rather, there was something about Mayoi that made Tatsumi entrust that part of himself to him. He takes a deep breath, deciding that he might as well do the same again tonight.
“...It’s been the same dream for the past week.” With his free hand he takes his notebook and lifts the back, showing the pages filled with details of his dream, all ranging from vague to detailed with each day passed. Mayoi squints his eyes, making use of what little moonlight they had to read his writing— and he notes how pretty his penmanship was, in contrast to what was written. It ranged from vague to vivid, enough for Mayoi to paint a full, terrifying picture in his mind.
In his head was the image of Tatsumi standing over the bodies of his peers in Reimei with their faces blurred out. He can hear them hounding at Tatsumi, hurling out vulgarities that Tatsumi couldn't bring himself to write out in ink. Their voices mix together, becoming indistinguishable as they blend into a deafening cacophony of malice and hatred. Even after Tatsumi has woken up it still lingers, and Mayoi wonders if that’s why he’s been waking up a bit more late than usual. He wonders if this has something to do with Tatsumi opening up to him, and though Mayoi never thought to see him as less of a person because of it, he has to wonder the extent to which it all truly plagues Tatsumi. Mayoi can’t even begin to imagine the weight of his burdens, and the thought of him bearing it all alone makes his heart twist. It seemed unfair. Someone as kind as him and as saintly as him shouldn't have to face such a trial, even if it is God's will.
Mayoi closes the notebook, and he brushes his hand over the cover. What Tatsumi couldn’t say, he instead wrote down on paper to reflect on. He was no god nor saint; He is human. Shameful as it may be for Mayoi to admit, it wasn’t until their conversation before MDM in those hanging gardens that he was able to truly realize that.
He’s human, Mayoi reminds himself again, and he feels it in the way Tatsumi’s hand warms up his own. He’s seen it with the way he tossed and turned because of a nightmare. And now, he’s sure of it when he sees how anxious he is for Mayoi to break the silence between them. He’s human in every sense of the word, flawed and imperfect— but oddly enough, those imperfections made him all the more endearing to Mayoi.
He decides to climb into the bed, having stood on the bar of the ladder long enough now. Tatsumi immediately makes room for him, their hands still locked together as if they’d rather do anything else other than let go of one another.
Mayoi grazes his thumb against Tatsumi’s hand, and with each second that passes, Mayoi becomes more aware of the loud thumping in Tatsumi’s chest.
“If I stayed by your side,” And right now, Mayoi couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be in “would that help you sleep better?”
At a genuine loss for words, Tatsumi turns his head to look at Mayoi. He wants to say no, but not out of disgust or shame. This was his problem after all, and he already felt bad enough with having Mayoi stay up with him at such an ungodly hour. And yet when Mayoi offers his company to him, he finds it hard to refuse both him, and the side of himself that yearns for affection.
“I, I’m not sure.” He squeezes Mayoi’s hand before he could think of that as a rejection. “But I’d like to see if it will.”
“Of course~” Joy lines the tone of Mayoi’s voice. After all, if he can lessen the burden even by just a bit, then there shouldn’t be room for hesitation. He lets go of Tatsumi’s hand to tidy his bed, readying two pillows to accommodate them both before lying down. He looks up at Tatsumi, who looks awestruck by the sudden display of boldness on Mayoi’s part. Petting the empty space beside him, Mayoi silently beckons Tatsumi over, and soon enough he follows, and he rests the side of his head against the pillow, facing Mayoi.
“There…” Mayoi reaches behind Tatsumi to shut the curtains, and Tatsumi hears his own heart speed up as he registers how close they were. He notes the small gap between them, followed by the thought of closing it. A tempting idea, but he was already imposing so much on him that he decides against voicing it.
The seconds go by quietly without any success for Tatsumi falling back asleep. He opens his eyes to find Mayoi gazing at him, managing to catch a glimpse of his smile. Even if it was only for a fraction of a second, he keeps the image locked away in his heart.
“What’s wrong? You can’t fall asleep…?”
“Unfortunately…” Tatsumi feels a rare moment of frustration, and it’s a pity that he couldn’t spare even half of what patience he was willing to give others for himself. But it seemed like Mayoi was more than willing to give that to him, more than eager to cater to his needs. Honestly, he felt spoiled, but it would be a lie to say he hated the feeling.
Mayoi’s smile returns then. “T-then, if I may be so bold,” He raises an arm to invite Tatsumi in, and the sight makes his heart flip inside his chest. Moving in closer, the distance between them eventually evaporates, and Mayoi wraps an arm around the man to guide his head to his chest. The cool night air grows warm as the their bodies press together, and Tatsumi feels Mayoi’s smile against his head. Normally Tatsumi would have envisioned their positions to be the other way around, but perhaps tonight he’ll allow himself this act of self-indulgence. He feels Mayoi’s fingers thread through his hair, causing him to melt under his touch. If this was a sin, then he’d gladly beg for forgiveness much later on.
“Tatsumi-san,” Mayoi whispers, his hand never halting “can you hear it?”
“Hear…?” He blinks his eyes.
“My heart.”
Tatsumi pauses for a moment, the faint thumping now becoming apparent. A steady rhythm, peaceful and calming— it was beautiful for him, or perhaps it’s because it was Mayoi’s that he could think that. He nods slowly, eyelids growing heavier now.
“I can.”
Mayoi lets out a low hum, pleased with his answer. “I’ve read it somewhere… That listening to someone’s heart at peace can calm your own.” He feels a little embarrassed to say it, but he trusts that Tatsumi wouldn’t mock such knowledge. And with the way Tatsumi settles against his chest, Mayoi could guess that he was finding it helpful. He feels Tatsumi’s body slacken, and as if put under some kind of spell by Mayoi, Tatsumi finds himself drifting further and further into slumber.
“Goodnight, Tatsumi-san.”
His voice fills his mind, soothing the tension and leaving no room for his troubled thoughts, beckoning them to return another day. He drifts to sleep, the sensation of Mayoi’s delicate fingers combing through his pale green locks carrying him to a more peaceful dream.
If he really is under Mayoi’s spell, then maybe he wouldn’t mind at all...