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Tsukasa laid in his bed, earphones connected to his phone, playing his favorite songs that always helped him relax when he needed it. But it didn't help calm the way his hands shook, the way he felt queasy, the way everything was too much, too much too much..!
He reached up to his hair, gripping the peach tips twirling them in an attempt to calm himself -- though, he eventually resorted to grasping the blonde to peach head of hair he was given tightly, quickly muttering words, calm down, he told himself, it's fine, what are you even overwhelmesd about? He asked over and over again, his hands shaking more and the queasiness not leaving, now accompanied with an uneasy feeling of his chest.
A bad mix, a bad mix and he knew this. Calm down, calm down! He kept breathing deeply, in and out the best he could, but it did ultimately nothing. Now it was his arms shaking, not just his hands. He groaned shakily, just calm down! Calm down!
But it's like nothing helped; nothing worked. He gripped his hair tighter, paining his tender head, he stood up and paced through the house, he stepped into the cold night, hoping the bitter cold would calm him down; none of this worked, it only served to make him worse.
Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill in any moment. He hissed and groaned, tilting his head back slightly to prevent the tears from falling.
His head hurt, his legs began shaking, his arms and hands wouldn't stop shaking, and he was exhausted. But he couldn't sleep like this. He just couldn't. He ran back up to his room, tripping along the way as his knees kept buckling from their shaking. His breath was heavy, he looked like a mess, and for the life of him he just could not calm down.
It all crashed down on him, and that queasiness hit him like a truck. He ran to the bathroom, shutting the door a bit too loudly and locking the door, heaving into the toilet as his arms shook, trying desperately to hold him up over the commode as those tears from before managed to spill.
But then he heard a sound. A sound that, in theory, shouldn't have been horrifying, but it was. Footsteps. Footsteps that grew closer and closer. Fidgeting with the doorknob. And then a knock. A sleepy voice came through the door, one Tsukasa recognized well: Saki.
"Onii-chan..? Are you okay? I heard you... I heard you moving around a lot earlier.... Are you," a yawn escaped the girl on the other side, "Are you alright?"
Tsukasa's world felt like shattering hearing those three words muttered by his younger sister. He pulled some toilet paper off of the roll and wiped his mouth with it, coughing as quietly as he could into it.
"Yes- Yes! I'm fine my dearest sister! I don't remember moving around? Hmm.." He hummed in thought, purposefully loud. "Perhaps I was sleepwalking?"
Saki, too tired to think a whole bunch, leaned against the door, humming for a quick moment before humming in agreement, "Probably... make sure to.. to go to bed and sleep, onii-chan.. I'm going back to bed.."
And with that, he listened for the departing footsteps - and once they were no more, the vomit came back up like a volcano, causing Tsukasa to lunge forward slightly into the toilet, puking out whatever he had in him.
It took an hour until he was finished, most of the time taken up with heaving, dry heaving, and sad attempts to avoid crying. He escaped to his bedroom, shutting the door and staring at his hands as they shook; he couldn't stop them from doing so.
Useless, he thought to himself. He couldn't believe he worried his beloved sister.
How could he do that? He swore to never worry her.
He can't even do something so miniscule.
If he can't even do something so small like that, did he even deserve the gift of life? So many more people are much more useful than him, wouldn't it be best if he....?
No, no a star cannot think like that! A star DOESN'T think like that! He shook his head, as if clearing his mind of the thoughts that plagued him viciously, like he was the prey and his mind was the predator, trying desperately to capture him.
He situated himself in his bed, snuggling under the covers and holding stuffed animals close to him, watching the stuffed toys shake with his hands. Stop, stop it stop it stop SHAKING! He held his hand down with the other, trying desperately to get the shaking to stop; to no avail.
He watched as the clocks counter rose, each hour, each minute, as the beginning of a school day dawned upon him, along with the realization he didn't get any sleep.
But it'd be fine! He can try again tomorrow.
Tomorrow's another day, right?