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Noise.
The droning buzzing of bright fluorescent lights. The ear-grating whirl of distant chatter. The never ending tap tap tap of shoes hitting concert. The shifting of fabric against skin. The grinding of metal against metal. It was overwhelming, all-consuming.
Anasui never really liked noise.
He never liked a lot of things, actually. Sounds, feelings, tastes, smells — everything was always too much. It made this awful feeling bubble beneath his skin; something he needed to tear out, to get away from, to stop. But no matter how much he picked at it, no matter how much his skin peeled back , he could never scratch that uncomfortable itch
Today was one of those days.
From the moment he peeled open his eyes, everything was wrong. His blankets — far too thin to drive out the cold and a horrible itchy texture — stuck to his skin uncomfortably, pinning him to his rocky bed. His spit was thick and dry, making his mouth feel full of cotton. His cell-mates , who for whatever reason always insisted on getting up early, were talking too loud; babbling on and on, never shutting the fuck up long enough for him to suck in a breath—
Today was going to be a bad day. Today was going to be a bad day and he needed to get to the safe haven that was Emporio's room before the feeling coiling in his chest snapped in two. Before it got worse. Before he ended up hurting someone or himself — because that was the only thing that'd starve off the feeling. Because it's the urge that's been festering just beneath his skin for days.
He weaved through the halls as soon as he was allowed, not uttering a word, following the path he'd take time and time again. The room was quiet. Spacious. Never too cold, never too hot. Never humid or dry. It was comfortable. It was safe. And he was one of three people who were allowed to take up space within it.
He never minded the extra company, really;
Weather was quiet. He wasn't a talker, he preferred to get his message across with as few words as possible. And when he did talk, his voice was low, easy on the ears. He was good at listening more so than talking.
He annoyed him sometimes, but nothing about him made that itch surface.
Emporio wasn't as quiet. The boy was a jittery box of rambles. He could even get someone as reserved as Weather to really chat, if he tried hard enough. He was noisy. But he respected Anasui. He knew when to quiet down; when enough was enough. When the noise might consume him.
Emporio didn't chill the fire burning in his chest, but he never made it worse.
" Emporio, " he called when he rounded a corner. A hand grabbed him - small and gentle - and then he was whisked away into the comfort of the small room. It smelt like paper and books, as it always did. The lights were off, save for the light coming from Emporio's computer screen. It was quiet, too.
" You're here early, " the boy exclaimed far too loudly to his right. Anasui grimaced. " Are you skipping breakfast? "
Instead of replying, he looked around the room, pivoting on his heels.
Weather was usually there; carefully watching Emporio, providing him calm, quiet company. He didn't like being anywhere else but here. This was his safe haven too. But aside from him and Emporio, the room was empty. He looked around once, twice, three time to be sure and every time it turned out empty, empty, and empty again.
What?
Tension rose in his throat like bile. Choking him. Suffocating him. Threatening to spill over. The uncomfortable itch spread like an infectious disease, seizing his chest, his arms, his legs until there wasn't a part on him that wasn't buzzing. He wasn't here. Where was he?
" Where's Weather? " he managed to croak, wincing at how his voice seemed to boom in the quiet room.
Emporio shifted - the sound of sneakers squeaking against the ground made his fingers twitch - and tilted his head up at Anasui, " ..chow hall "
Of course. He was in the nosiest room, warmest room filled with bodies that touched and bumped into each other more often than not. He never understood how anyone could stand being in there, not with the constant sound of chewing making you want to jab a fork into your hand. Of course he was there now of all times.
It was boiling over now. It was too much. Far too much. Anasui sucked in a deep, shaky breath, held it, and released it in a hiss.
" Fucking seriously? "
" I could go get him for you, " Emporio was talking again, because of course he was, and Anasui had to gnaw on the inside of his cheek to starve off the tension behind his eyes, " if you want me to "
He was going to tear everything in this room apart. He was going to tear himself apart. Please be quiet.
" Yes, please, " he forced out instead, not turning to look at the boy as he vanished into the crack of the wall.
He found himself moving- he wasn't sure when he moved, but with a blink he found himself across the room, kneeled on the ground, pen in hand. It was a gel-pen, hot pink. They were developed in Japan, he thinks, sometime in the 1980's. They became available in America shortly after that and were almost immediately marketed towards smaller children. That's probably why Emporio owned so many. They were colorful, glittery, easy to color with — it would do for now
He picked it apart easily, like he had done dozens of times before. It was easy. He knew how to by second nature, almost. Before he knew it he was finished, leaving the poor thing a mess of parts on the ground. He snatched another pen from the piano , his hands shaking. This time it was a purple one.
The next was red. Then blue. Then white. Then pink again.
It eased the need in his chest. Just for a moment. But it was still there. The feeling wasn't gone, just staved off—
" Anasui. "
Anasui froze, like a deer caught in head-lights, and slowly looked over his shoulder at the familiar voice. There he stood - the man he had been trying to find all morning. Weather was wearing that same poker-face he had seen thousands of times before. There's something on the corner of his mouth ( syrup, he thinks. He smells like pancakes and sausage ) and a bead of sweat on his temple. He almost looked like he ran here.
He looks beyond him , to the source of the heavy panting.
Emporio was with him. His arms rested on-top of the closed piano , fingers threaded together loosely and lightly tapping against each other. There's a visible tension in his body; from his clenched jaw to his raised shoulders. He was stressed, he realized suddenly. Anasui had worried him.
That helped simmer down the feeling coiling under his skin, replacing it was a cold guilt. Guilt was better anger. Guilt was better than that gnawing need. He sucked in another deep breath.
In and out. Slow and steady.
He feels something press against his back. It's cold, because the older man could never seem to retain any body heat — but not enough to actually be uncomfortable. It's a hand. Weathers hand; calloused and firm. Anasui focuses on it instead of the insufferable noise of his own breathing.
" that's going to leave a mark, " Weather whispers, and Anasui hears him shift into a kneel.
His brows furrow, his mouth parting to question him - because what was he talking about? And — oh.
He hadn't noticed how taut his own body was until now; how his teeth were grinding against his tongue, flooding his mouth with copper or how his nails were digging into his skin like a lifeline. When he uncurls his fists, he sees the angry-red crescents he left behind. Little crimson beads dotted his pale skin. He couldn't feel it, not yet.
" You shouldn't be here right now, " Anasui says back, his voice sounding far too close to a childish whimper for his liking, " I could hurt you. "
" I know. "
Weathers hand doesn't move, and Anasui sinks his head further in-between his knees, his eyes fluttering closed. They remain like that for awhile, squished next together, their slow, steady breaths the only noise hanging in the air.
He wasn't sure how long Weather stood there, hand soothing over his back, or how long Emporio watched him with careful eyes. It could have been hours for all he knew. But eventually the buzzing in his head began ebbing away. And eventually, everything didn't seem so loud. Eventually, he could take in a full breath again.
He could analyze himself now, actually ground himself. His throat is dry; he hadn't had anything to drink today. His palms and eyes stung. His stomach is stuck between rolling with nausea and grumbling with hunger. But it's no longer twisting with that horrible feeling. He felt normal, if not just a bit grumpy.
He was fine and this was all ridiculous, now; he was hunched over in a room, next to a child and a too-cold freak, panicking over nothing. Embarrassment creeped up his spine, making his face feel hot. " Your hands are cold and dirty " he quips, lifting his head up from his knees. Even with his hair over his eyes, he can see weather is staring at him, leaned in way too close, " and I can smell your breath from here. Do you even brush your teeth? "
Weather , thankfully, pulls away, his hand sliding down his back before retracting entirely. Anasui couldn't read his expression. It never looked different, no matter how much Emporio argued it did. But he could swear he saw the corners of his eyes crinkle fondly — even if it was just for a moment.
" Are you okay..? " Emporio's voice floated over, unsure.
" Yes, " Anasui replied, shifting into a sit, " i'm fine " thank you.
" Do you want to— umm " the boy trails off, but Anasui knows exactly what he wants to say
" No. "
" Right, " Emporio clears his throat, sliding off the plush seat to make his way over to the two, " are we just going to sit in the floor, now? "
" Yes, " Weather says this time, leaning back on the palms of his hands, making himself comfortable. The bastard.
" Mnn, " Anasui makes a noise, not quite agreeing or disagreeing. He couldn't move if he wanted to. He wasn't going to admit that though, he had enough of being pitied today. Emporio settled in the space between him and Weather.
" I found a new movie we could watch, " Emporio was talking again, looking up at the two
Weather tilted his head slightly, a silent ' go on '. And Emporio continued, filling the silence comfortably.
Anasui didn't like noise, no.
But theirs wasn't too loud.