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Heiji sat on the very edge, cross-legged. It wasn't a very stable position, and he knew anyone with a brain would be criticizing him for it, but he knew his own balance. He probably wouldn't fall. Not unless he leaned forward a bit, which he had no intention of really doing.
The unimpeded wind of being higher than most buildings whipped around his ears, louder than the distant horns of cars passing below. From so high up, they really did look like bugs- he'd always thought those sorts of descriptions were exaggerations, but he really did feel like he could reach down and pluck one out between his fingers.
He was so high up, he wondered how long it would take him to hit the ground if he fell.
"Heiji!" Kazuha's voice burst out from behind him, accompanied by the slam of the rooftop's door.
He jumped- ok, yep, quite precarious, he very well could fall. He did not want to fall with Kazuha there to watch him go, that would be disastrous on so many levels.
"Hey, Kazuha," he replied, trying not to sound too irritated. Why was she up here again? He hadn't told anyone where he was going, had he?
Kazuha marched toward him, face thunderous. "Heiji, what are ya doin’ up here? We've been lookin' fer hours, yaknow! Ya wouldn't pick up yer phone!"
Heiji blinked, then squinted. "Haah? Whaddya mean, my phone-" he pulled it up and found... a lot of missed calls. He had put it on mute, huh. Hadn't wanted to be distracted from his thoughts.
"Yer phone," she continued for him, "wasn't picked up, not in the hundred times we called it. We were worried sick!" she shouted, getting progressively louder. If he didn't do something, she'd start crying.
"I'm sorry," he placated, "I didn't realize it was on mute. I'm turnin' it on right now, ya see?" He showed her the screen demonstratively.
" Heiji," she continued, choking. Ok, shit, that wasn't enough. "What are ya doin' up here?"
Heiji felt his heart stop for a moment. She wasn't- no, she couldn't. She would've asked the same thing no matter where she'd found him. She was just frustrated. That was all.
"I felt like clearin' my head," he replied carefully, but trying not to sound careful at all. "This seemed like as good a place as any to do it," he said.
Kazuha looked at him, eyes shining a bit with unshed tears. "Really?" she asked.
Heiji froze.
"Ya took a look at everywhere we have here in Osaka and picked some skyscraper as the best place to clear yer head?" As Heiji opened his mouth to retort, Kazuha shook her head. "Ya climbed 20 flights of stairs after hearin' the lower elevator was out, instead of pickin’ anywhere else?"
Heiji stared back at her, voiceless.
Kazuha leveled him with a stare, a hard one. "What are ya doin' up here?" she whispered.
The wind whipped around both of their ears, messing her ponytail as half of it blew into her face. His balance continued to teeter in the breeze, just slightly, imperceptible to anyone but him.
Heiji huffed out a laugh, putting his feet back on the roof. "Ya worry too much, Kazuha," he answered, standing. "I just wanted ta see if people really do look like ants from up here." He walked past her, head down with an aloof grin. He couldn't meet her eyes, but hopefully it looked intentional.
Just as he reached the door, he heard her voice sound from behind him. "Heiji."
He paused, hand on the doorframe. He could hear her walking up behind him, but he still couldn't turn to face her. He'd been caught, in an element he'd never wanted to be caught in, and it was all he could do to cover it up and trick her into thinking she'd seen nothing at all.
"Ya haven't been right, lately," she said quietly. "Yer mom says ya haven't been eating, and ya gave me yer hat to keep."
"Ya said ya wanted one," he murmured.
"And ya said ya would never give it up," she whispered back. "Not that one. Not till ya died."
Heiji didn't answer. He didn't know how. She had seen through him, so thoroughly. How was he supposed to tell her he felt no connection to it anymore? No connection to anything? How was he supposed to tell her that her worry didn't even make him feel loved, that he could only register it on a surface level? That nothing made him feel anything anymore?
He wasn't even irritated, now. He hadn't felt sad all day. He just felt nothing. Nothing at all.
"Heiji," Kazuha pleaded quietly from behind him. "Answer me."
What did she want him to say? What was the right thing to say, now? There was no fixing this. Why even try? It was too late.
Because if he didn't fix it now, it would only get worse, he reminded himself. This situation was stressful enough, he couldn't imagine how it would be if she continued to push him, for days, weeks. The rest of his life. Hell, what if she told his mom? She had apparently noticed he'd been eating less, before Heiji himself did. She surely was worried enough that Kazuha would tell her, too. And what then?
"Kahuha," he started, because the longer he was silent, the worse her perception of the situation would get. "Stop worrying. Yer actin' awful dramatic about a guy forgettin' to turn his phone off silent and wantin' to see some sights."
"I-" she started, then didn't finish.
He finally turned over his shoulder to look at her, injecting as much irritation as he could muster. It was the easiest emotion, nowadays. Or since forever. "Stop actin' like ya think I was gonna jump, or somethin'."
Her eyes were wide with shock, at those words. Probably because he just went and said it.
But it felt so relieving, to just say it. To speak his mind, here and there in little phrases, in little jokes. Like tiny cries for help, except he would rather die than let anyone actually go hearing them. Fittingly.
"But..." Kazuha started, haltingly. "Ya-"
"Kazuha." Heiji stopped her. "Yer soundin' like a paranoid fool. It just took me a minute to figure out the words comin' outta yer damn mouth, they were so absurd."
Kazuha's mouth open and shut.
He continued. "I got nothin' to drive me to somethin' like that." He really didn't. "Ya know that. I got everythin' I could ever ask for, and I got the power and freedom do whatever the hell I want. Why the hell would I waste all that throwin' myself off a rooftop?" Why, indeed?
Kazuha was staring at him, wide-eyed. Was she finally done? Would she leave him alone?
"Heiji..." she wheezed, sounding broken.
Fuck.
Fuck, he'd just spilled his guts there. All over. She had heard all of that, and she could hear everything he wasn't saying, too. All the undertones. No happy person would rant angrily about all the things going well in his life, like they were a curse, binding him to a life he didn't want, that he wished he could work up the motivation to throw away, no matter how selfish it was.
Kazuha was looking at him like a whole new person, and he was terrified of it. He was terrified of what that meant, and that he had definitely lost her, and gained something new, something terrible.
He tore his eyes away, knowing he didn't look calm or angry anymore. "I'm fine," he said, trying not to sound desperate. "I-" he whipped his head back up to face her, "am fucking fine, and you can shut the hell up."
He was not fine. He was not fine, and now she knew it, and she knew it for certain. And he couldn't take it back, he couldn't fix it. Their relationship was irreversibly changed on this rooftop, and he couldn't go back to how it was before, her blissful ignorance to what had been there, for so long, unnoticed.
Why hadn't he kept his cool, this time? Why couldn't he have laughed it off the way that he always did? Why couldn't she have been convinced?
There was no running, no matter how much he wanted to. There was nowhere to run from what he'd brought upon himself. It had only been a matter of time, anyway, hadn't it? He'd lasted as long as he could. He was bound to break eventually. But he'd always selfishly hoped that at the very least if anyone were to cry for him, he wouldn't be around to see it. To feel this guilt.
Pathetic.
Kazuha was stepping closer, now. And he knew what she was going to do, but he didn't want it. He didn't want to be reminded how it didn't make him feel loved, it didn't make him feel anything.
Arms wrapped around him, her face buried into his shoulder. Her body was warm against him as hot tears soaked into his shirt, and he wasn't sure if he cared.
"Don't go, Heiji," she whispered shakily, voice muffled. "Don't go..."
He finally lifted his arms up to hold her in turn. "Don't be stupid," he whispered back, grip gentle and loose around her. "I ain't goin' anywhere."