Work Text:
The lonely emperor sat crookedly on a creaky swivel chair parallel to the window behind him. He was hunched over a small notebook- one half-filled by two identifiable handwritings. At first, he hovered silently above an empty page, before his hand moved across the lines, scratching in words at an unhurried pace.
“Wataru,
I have been meaning to confide in you about something, yet it slips my mind whenever I come upon an appropriate time to bring it up. Or, perhaps, I let it slip my mind on purpose. As easy as it is to release my troubles to you when I am weary, this issue of mine I find more straining.”
Eichi tapped the end of his pen on the shiny, glassy surface of his desk before returning to the journal before him.
“You have always made charming remarks about me being childish- remarks to which I may agree, even if I do not say so often. Yet I fear that you may be closer to a truth than you think.”
The pace of the writing had hastened, causing Eichi to cast sloppy sentences into he and his boyfriends’ shared vault of emotions, personal recollections, and secrets.
“I struggle to find a reason why, yet, reasonless or not, my mind sometimes slips away into some foreign state. It does this when I am particularly stressed- wether that be by my parents, or the looming possibility of hospitalization. This state is one I am unfamiliar with, and I become most definitely, literally, childish. I become reserved and quiet, and almost immature, yet not in the pleasant way you’ve seen me be. It is as if I go backwards. It’s so hard to understand that it can be… frightening. What I find especially strange, is that the thought of you is comforting in these states. Yet what am I even saying? You are one of the most comforting things that could come to mind- yet, I am rambling.”
The frantic writing briefly paused, before resuming after Eichi put his train of thought back on track.
“I am still myself- yet I’m myself in a much more innocent, naive state. It is some kind of involuntary stress reliever that takes over when I cannot handle anymore. Lately, I’ve feared that I will begin my descent into this state of mind around you, and it will be far out of control before I can retreat away. I will be revealed to you- and it will be humiliating. I’ve let myself relax to you many times… yet this… it may just be too much.”
Another hesitation.
“I don’t want you to think I’m weird.
Or that there’s even more wrong with me other than those pathetic moments of physical weakness of mine that you witness far too often.
Perhaps my mental demons are too burdening for someone like you.”
All of a sudden, thin, sickly fingers grabbed at the page and severed it from the book’s spine with one swift rip in a spur of frustration. Eichi hurriedly curled his fingers around the page, condensing it into a paper ball. His fist closed over the rigid piece, briefly basking in the small amount of control and power he held over the weak, pathetic paper- yet his knuckles bloomed a shade of white quickly, and it reminded him who truly was weak and pathetic in the end.
The emperor went to toss his feelings into the literal garbage, yet something stopped his hand. What if some nosy junior saw it became curious? Or, even worse, what if one of his friends became curious? Eichi had ways of covering things up… yet, the thought of someone, anyone, knowing his dark secret sent shivers up his spine.
He plucked up a few tissues from a box placed conveniently close and crumpled them up. His secret writing was tossed into the trash can alongside feigned runny nose outcomes. So simply, it had become just another headache, just another sniffle, another fainting spell caused by Eichi’s ever constant poor constitution.
Disposing of his attempt at honesty had yet only created another challenge, as when he glanced back to the notebook, soft remains of paper clung tightly to the pages’ bindings. Running a fingertip over it, he sighed, and regretted that the book wasn’t ringed.
He’d have to return the book eventually. Perhaps he could come up with a lie- something akin to a tea spill, or a muscle spasm. Despite all of the ideas, Wataru may had been widely conceived as a jester, yet he’d never been a fool. Wataru would be aware something uncomfortable had taken place between the pages. It was only a matter of if he’d question it. Wataru would definitely be able to piece together the scene that had just taken place with his keen nature, and him either pursuing the reason or just leaving it be were both highly possible
Perhaps Eichi could write something more eye-catching than the torn page- something more concerning, to distract from the matter. Coming up with options was not a difficult task- there were plenty of instances of rough nurses and abominable nightmares to write about, ones to make the reader experience nightmares themselves. It was not a half bad idea, yet he’d feel guilty purposely making his Wataru worry…
Eichi promptly shut the journal and slid it away. All of the concerns made his head spin, and he had reached a point where he could no longer care any longer. He’d figure something out eventually.