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He had done a really good job. He told everyone he was fine, he smiled and laughed alongside them, all crowded into a booth at the usual burger place. He ate, though at times he couldn't stomach it.
He'd see his closest friends glance at him from the corners of their eyes, so he made sure to show just how ok he was. Catch them, smile, ask, What is it?
Everything's ok, he told them. It's all ok. I'll be ok. He didn't think they believed him; he saw their looks. But he insisted, time and again, and they let it be.
He didn't want to be around anyone, but at the same time, he would rather be around everyone.
He hated when it was time to sleep.
If he slept. It was increasingly rare for him to get any amount of solid sleep. Jounouchi had commented first; You can't fool me, you look like shit.
He'd laughed. Wow, that's pretty savage. Jounouchi had tried to get him to stop deflecting, but he kept doing it, to the point that Jounouchi kind of gave up. (Outwardly. He knew his friend better than that.)
He didn't want to think, didn't want to dream. He knew what his dreams would be like; he'd already had them; he'd already woken up thinking they were real, and the resulting misery when he realized.
Anzu was gentler in her speech, but just as firm, if not more so, than any of his other friends. Sleep, she begged him. No one's coming over for maybe another thirty minutes. At least take a nap.
He agreed, if only because she was relentless. But he was also exhausted, and it had been chipping away at him more and more.
Anyway, he couldn't dream during a nap.
The moment his eyes closed, he was in a wide open space. The sky stretched on forever, shining the most dazzling blue. A shimmering expanse of water reflected the sky, and a breeze rustled the reeds growing on the water's edge. He felt it, felt it lightly tug at his clothes, felt it brush strands of hair against his cheek. He breathed deeply, for what felt like the first time in forever. He could feel his lungs fill, feel his exhalation.
Rustling behind him. He turned his head, slightly,
and his heart stopped.
He turned around fully, eyes wide, heart now thumping in his chest–
"It's you."
A gentle smile, dark crimson eyes crinkling at the corners. A purple cloak, catching the gentle breeze, flowing around strong shoulders. Light glinting off of gold, warming brown skin, glowing–
He felt hot tears flooding his eyes, so he knew, he knew it had to be real. His eyes stung, his vision swam, his heart was leaping– that doesn't happen in a dream– he's here, right in front of me, it's real, he's real, this is real–
He felt his mouth break into a grin. He stepped forward, reaching. And suddenly, the smile grew sad, the eyes grew darker, a shake of the head. Flashing gold.
Not yet.
I'm sorry.
A hot tear seared his cheek.
He was on the bed, the sun was setting, he could hear faint voices. The corners of the room were dark. It was nearly bare; Anzu was almost entirely packed to leave for college. He could hear her speaking.
Slowly, he sat up. His eyes burned. Heart burned. Hurt. Hurt, hurt, hurt.
Another tear that felt like fire. A shuddering breath, an attempt at steadying himself as he stared into the gathering dark. Curling in on himself, trying to hold together, trying to keep his wildly beating, pained heart from ripping itself out of his chest. He began to shake.
He had been doing a really good job.
He whimpered, quietly. He'd been doing a really good job. He sniffled, tried gulping in air. Couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop the tears now running freely down his cheeks. The dark crept from empty corners– oh, she's leaving me, too– towards him. A chasm beneath him, within him, opened up and was swallowing him whole.
How could pain and emptiness exist at the same time?
He had been doing such. A good. Job.
The whimpers became quiet sobs, became louder sobs. It hurt too much, it hurt so bad so bad so bad, and he had tried so hard. He had done well, had become so good at being quiet, almost to a point of pride. Had he been crying in the public bathroom? No one knew, because he was quiet and good at drying his eyes.
But this time, he couldn't. Not anymore.
The sound that tore out of his throat was a guttural, frightening thing, so incredibly ugly in its rough grief. His heart broke, the chasm swallowed him, his throat hurt.
And he couldn't stop.
Immediately there was silence outside the room, then exclamations, then the sound of running. Stop stop stop, his own mind screamed at him, as Anzu flung open the door and threw her arms around him, pulling him into her, his face pressing against her shoulder. Stop, stop, stop, as Jounouchi ran in and held onto him from the opposite side, leaning onto his back like a solid weight. Stop, stop, stop, as Honda asked what was wrong, what needed to be done, putting a firm hand over his. Stop, stop, stop, as Ryou gave a soft oh and did his gentle best to usher others away; It's ok, don't worry, give us a moment as he shut the door.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
He wailed into Anzu's shoulder as Honda squeezed his hand and Jounouchi pressed into him, as if the fact of his existence could bring comfort. He felt Ryou's hand on his knee, a quiet I am here.
He sobbed as if the world was still ending, when it already had and he was left standing alone in the rubble. He sobbed from the empty pain that he carried day after day, that hollowed him out and left him afraid to rest. The abyss beneath him, within him, swallowing him, drowning him, destroying him, even as his friends surrounded and pressed onto him. They were there, and yet he was utterly, achingly alone.
The sun set. Darkness covered them.