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Waking up is one of the most surreal feelings, especially after a night full of things you can’t remember. Still being stuck between the alluring realm of sleep and the world you know you have to face, you debate whether to get up and rally or let yourself be pulled to rest a little longer.
The sun shone through the blinds, birds chirped and cars went by as the morning began to settle its course. Hizashi was having that feeling, just there were a few things that were different from his normal morning routine.
One: He had a pounding headache and presumably a hangover from the way his stomach churned unpleasantly. There goes three years without a drink, way to go, Yamada.
Two: This wasn’t his home, and this wasn’t his bed. Probably a hotel room, it smelled like it anyways, along with the lingering smell of perfume and cheap alcohol.
And three, the most unusual part: There was someone asleep next to him. And he had not a single piece of clothing on.
Hizashi shot up, his pulse going through the roof and his anxiety following. Oh god oh god oh god, what did he do? Why did he accept that drink, where is he? Is he even in Japan anymore? What the hell happened?
His head swarmed with questions, and immediately after he thought too hard, his head ached with throbbing pains. He winced and shut his eyes, rubbing cold fingers to his temple and pushing down a wave of nausea.
Three years sober, he cursed himself, three years and you get drunk at some party. Party- was it a party? He couldn’t even remember how he got here. He groaned and shifted himself out of bed, avoiding the fallen undergarments, most of them not belonging to him. He stepped quietly on his toes to the restroom, snatching up a towel from inside and locking the door.
He turned the blinding lights on, a big mistake, and gagged again. His vision was consumed by black spots and he blinked to adjust to the flickering yellow light and braced himself on the sink.
“Ugh...what the hell did I do?” Hizashi groaned and rubbed his head gently, taking a peek at the man in the mirror who stared back. His long hair was disheveled and tangled, eyes were heavy and ringed with black circles. His lips were swollen and his neck was littered with marks, specifically dark, lip-shaped marks. Lipstick? Who wore such strong lipstick that it stained almost anything it touched?
Oh no.
Oh, oh hell, no.
He fumbled for the doorknob, twisting and stumbling around the room, fully taking in his surroundings. His half-asleep self was right, he was in fact, in a hotel room. Dinky little place, beige walls that were speckled with chipped blue paint (he guessed from the last paintjob), the carpet was weirdly rough yet soft at the same time under his feet.
The overhead light was off, the fan that protected it spun leisurely to create a cool breeze. Hizashi breathed in, tiptoeing back to the bed and looking for any u. He found a discarded item, snatched it up and wrangled himself together.
He shot one look at the woman still sleeping in bed, face turned away from him but he could see her chest rising and falling. Good, she’d wake up and know nothing. Last night- whatever it was- didn’t happen! She just hooked up with a rando and not Hizashi Yamada, yeah, some fancy random rich guy maybe.
Anyways, the point was what happened didn’t happen at all and she’d forget everything and so would he. They’d go back to work like nothing happened because that’s exactly what occurred; nothing, nothing at all!
He grabbed a white shirt covered in black marks, similar to the ones on his neck that was strewn on the ground and threw it on lazily. He found pants that once looked tailored and neat, now it looked like a divorced dad’s fanciest outfit that he wore to his daughter’s piano recital.
He put those on too, not bothering to check if he had anything else. It wasn’t worth the risk of waking her up and having to deal with the consequences of his drinking. It wasn’t worth his heart breaking all over again, either, especially by her. He couldn’t afford it.
Hizashi turned the knob and exited the hotel room, aware that Nemuri would be confused when she woke, but was it all worth it? No, he decided, and closed the door. Falling in love with her again wasn’t worth it.