Chapter Text
"Oh my god, there's so many things to finish," Ibara ran his fingers through his hair.
"All of them are due tonight."
He groaned for a good while afterwards.
With his forehead on the edge of his desk, his glasses slowly sliding off his head, Ibara glanced at the watch currently on his wrist. 8.00 p.m.
He should really get started.
***
Turns out, reviewing and measuring the company's statistical economic growth over the month prior was harder than what Ibara had initially expected. On top of that, there was still a report he had to send to his supervisors regarding the company's statistics throughout the week. A small part of him thought that he shouldn't have all this work done by himself since his position in the company isn’t high enough to do so; yet his supervisors insisted. The stability of his income (aka the roof over his head and everything that's currently keeping him alive) is in their hands.
Ibara's stomach kept growling. He hadn't consumed any food for the past 8 hours. Feeling ravenous yet still in no way shape or form able to stop the work he'd been doing, Ibara willed himself to forge on. However, after he was going to summarize the weekly report he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. Apparently, just downing water wasn’t enough to suffice his hunger.
He should really eat something.
It was getting so bad Ibara couldn't even focus on what he was doing, too preoccupied with the aching and stinging in his stomach. He felt acid rise up to his esophagus.
He was going to throw up.
A familiar tightness grew around his cheeks as saliva began to fill his mouth.
He couldn't hold it in any longer.
Ibara pushed himself away from his desk, the chair creaking loudly beneath as he sprang up and bolted to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet on his knees, he threw up.
As colorless fluid dripped down his lips, all he could think about was that the pangs in his stomach are now somewhat absent. At last, he could go back and finish that damn report.
There was only one light dimly illuminating the house. It came from a small window connected to Ibara's room. He stumbled into the kitchen, trying to find anything edible to stuff in his mouth. Minutes were passing by, still nothing.
He's always been quite fond of the dark, yet there was something that night that made it a little eerie. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing as a chill ran down his spine.
Something's up.
He rubbed his eyes and got a glimpse of the snack bar he forgot to bring this morning. He swore it wasn't where he'd left it but his stomach was too hungry to contemplate. Quickly snatching the wrapper, Ibara brought the snack bar into his room. He didn’t feel safe eating it outside otherwise.
11.55 p.m. He has finally finished everything. With all the typing and reading done for the day, he closed his laptop and shut his eyes. They were watering. If Ibara were to look into a mirror right now, he would probably see some red stained eyes staring back at him. At least he was no longer hungry.
After a long day, all he wanted was a good nights’ sleep. It was hard, acknowledging that his sleep schedule was all over the place. Yesterday he managed to sleep on the couch at 7 p.m. and woke up at 3.00 a.m. all because of the night prior, he had to sleep at 4.00 a.m. and so on. Right after accepting an office job was when this habit began to seep into his life. During his time at the military, he had no problem with his sleep schedule (because he was forced to).
However, the habit of skipping meals was caused by his military trainers. They would serve him globs of suspicious looking and foul smelling soup that would make his stomach growl. He didn’t know how Fushimi could digest it but he did (while gagging though). So, every time they had that on the menu, Ibara would hide in the bathroom or some other area where there was no one around. Was it torture since he had to use all the little energy he had left to continue training for the day? Yes. But that was military, a lot of torture, distress, and agony.
As he was drifting off to sleep, he couldn’t help but scan the room one last time. Everything was where it should’ve been. He took off his glasses and put them on the floor next to his phone which was currently charging.
He could finally sleep in peace.
***
Somewhere throughout the night (or morning), Ibara woke up. He was having a pretty gory nightmare yet he was more disgusted and uncomfortable than scared. Slowly blinking open, his eyes took some time to adjust to his surroundings.
At the corner of his eye, he saw a faint white mist of some sort at the corner of his room. He rubbed his eyes to get a better look but couldn’t afterwards. It was like it had disappeared out of nowhere. If it were smoke from a burning object, then it wouldn’t do that.
Was it a ghost perhaps?
The same chill ran down his spine just as it did a few hours ago. His breath grew unsteady. Sweat began to drip from his forehead. He kept assuring himself that ghosts aren’t real but by every passing minute, he kept getting more anxious.
Maybe he just needed to go back to sleep.
Ibara didn’t want to return to his nightmare yet he also didn’t want to lie awake and think about what had just happened. He needed to wake up early for work either way. Whether he’d like it or not, he had to fall asleep.
He covered his bottom half with a blanket, just in case.