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“I’ll be right back, my love.” Kazuha kisses his cheek and leaves for the bathroom.
Kuni closes his eyes and starts counting in his head in an attempt to drown out everything else. The sound of cutlery on plates, the hum of the lamp behind him, the sizzling of meat in the kitchen, the talking, the laughter, the fun. The smell of lime, of yellow flowers, of alcohol. The feeling of the table cloth on his thighs, of sweat above his lip, of Kazuha’s absence.
“What is up with you, dude?” a voice on his left.
Normally he would have added it to his list of things to drown out but this is Tighnari’s birthday dinner and Kuni wants his friend to have a good one. So tonight he is polite. He squints his eyes open and tells him, “Social gatherings are torture for me and I have sensory issues.” He is past pretending tonight.
The man laughs. Based on his outfit he is one of Tighnari’s colleagues. “I can’t bear to hear another one of Cyno’s jokes either. Also this wine is terrible.” Kuni looks away. Tonight he is polite. The forest ranger continues, “So I totally know how you feel.”
Kuni’s fists hit the table, making dishes clatter. “No you don’t!” His abrupt standing causes his chair to fall over behind him. The entire room is staring at him and now the quiet he longed for is suffocating him.
“Let’s go outside for a bit, Kuni?” Tighnari starts to get up.
He blinks back his tears. “No, Tighnari, please, stay. It’s your birthday.” He swallows. “I am sorry. Have a nice rest of your party.” He leaves the chair where it is and walks.
And keeps walking. The cold air biting at his skin and the rocks tearing the soles of his feet are welcome replacements of stimuli at this point.
Kazuha can’t be far behind. Sure, Kuni had a head-start, but no one runs faster than a worried Kazuha. He wants to spare him the effort, he wants to just sit down and wait for him, but his legs keep him moving and minutes pass.
“There you are.” Kuni almost starts crying at the sound of his voice behind him. He can sit down now. His coat is laid over his shoulders and his forehead is kissed. Kazuha places down the shoes Kuni abandoned.
“Baby, you are bleeding.” Kuni looks at his own feet. Ah, so he is. Kazuha sits down in front of him and strokes his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me we needed to go home?”
Because. Because. No words are coming out of his mouth. He’s trying, he really is, but his mouth stays closed and he is locked inside his own body. Because, Kazuha, I don’t want to have to go home early. I want to go home when everyone else does. I want for you to smile at me with rosy cheeks, tired but content and tell me what a nice time you had, and I want for me to do the same and actually mean it.
Kazuha’s face is full of concern. He’s trying to hide it, Kuni can tell, but he has never been very good at it. “Can you not talk, my love?” Kuni doesn’t even blink.
Say something. Anything. Just speak, you fucking imbecile.
“That’s okay. You know that’s okay. Right?”
Kuni can do nothing but remain as still as a statue. Why is he like this? Why is he so broken? Why can’t he just function?
“You’re okay, baby.” He’s not. He can’t even move, for fuck’s sake.
“We’ll just stay here for a while.” Kazuha squeezes his hands. “We are in no rush.” Kuni is. He does not want Kazuha to sit on the cold and wet December ground. He could get sick.
“Do you want me to talk? Squeeze my hands if you don’t.” He does not squeeze Kazuha’s hands, he couldn’t if he wanted to, he can’t do anything.
So Kazuha talks. He talks about the cat he saw on his walk yesterday, the clementines he bought and how he will peel two of them later tonight and make sure he takes off all the white strings for Kuni. He talks about the tree next to them, how old it must be and how many birds must have felt at home between its leaves. He starts telling him about the book he has been reading, but stops and admits it is too scary to talk about in a forest without sunlight to protect them. He wonders about his guitar, if it is ready to be picked up from the repair shop yet, if he will miss the old strings. He recalls his dream from last night, the giant blue rat that chased him in it and their reconciliation just before he woke up. He tells him about tomorrow, how they have nowhere to be and no one to see.
Kuni doesn’t know how much time passes before he feels like he might be able to move again. When he suddenly gets up, Kazuha hands him his shoes and demands he lets him carry him home because of his injured feet. Not having any fight left in him and still unable to talk, he lets him. He focusses on the scent of Kazuha’s hair and the pressure of his arms around his legs. And his voice.
The next day Kuni feels just as broken. Kazuha is there. He does not take away the hurt, he does not make it better.
But he is there.