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akito wakes up exhausted.
his eyes are sore and he can feel the beginnings of a headache from the pain radiating off his scalp. the blankets are strewn across the floor and he’s cold.
there’s a cumbersome weight in his chest. it’s not unfamiliar, in fact he’s used to it. it’s been with him for years; some days it’s easier to ignore, some days it forcefully makes its presence known. today it expands, crawling through his veins like thousands of tiny spiders beneath his skin, so unbearably heavy that his mind sinks down, down, down , resting six feet below.
so it’s one of Those days — the ones where akito doesn’t have the energy to do anything but lie there, trapped in his own body. too tired to get up and brush his teeth, too tired to retrieve the fallen covers, too tired to even acknowledge the notifications lighting up his phone.
he’s supposed to be at school by now. maybe he would have been, if he knew his parents cared enough to make him go. but they don’t, and ena’s still asleep, so he doesn't go.
simply breathing is almost too difficult. akito wishes he could make himself stop.
closing his eyes, akito feels that familiar weight attempting to pull him into sleep. as he succumbs, a flicker of panic sparks when he suddenly remembers that he’s meant to be at practice later that day; but it’s too late, and akito’s fragile consciousness goes under.
he doesn’t dream. his mind is far too worn-out to dream.
the senseless void that accompanies sleep is bliss. akito doesn’t exist here, nothing does. it’s simply quiet and blank, devoid of feeling and thought and ready to welcome those who have wandered a little too close to the edge. akito knows this place well, and it knows him too. he wants to stay here forever.
when he wakes, it’s to ena knocking and shouting at him through the door.
“oi, shithead! are you alive? your teammates are here, i had to answer the door since you didn’t!”
akito tries to respond, he really does, but his voice won’t cooperate. he doesn’t want them to see him like this, doesn’t want to deal with other people in the room. and yet, he’s too exhausted to care.
the weight in his skin grows impossibly heavier until he can’t even raise his head from the mattress. ena knocks again, and when she doesn’t receive a reply she opens the door and peeks in.
“oh. oh, akito… ”
he closes his eyes and hides his face as tears threaten to make an appearance. there’s some hushed whispers, and although akito can hear the words perfectly well, he doesn’t bother trying to decipher what they’re actually saying. hopefully they’ll leave him alone. they probably won’t.
shuffling footsteps, the door gently closing, and then someone is approaching the bed.
“akito?”
it’s toya.
“can you look at me?”
it takes every ounce of strength akito has to lift his head and blink blearily at his partner. toya is gazing at him with so much love that the tears he so desperately withheld suddenly began beading in the corners of his eyes.
“hi.” toya smiles, and akito can feel his heart melt in spite of himself. he lays his head back on the pillow and watches as toya retrieves the fallen blankets, dusting them off before placing them back on the bed (and, consequentially, akito as well). akito makes a low noise of contentment in the back of his throat, nuzzling into the warmth.
carefully easing himself onto the bed next to akito, toya sits up against the headboard. this isn’t the first time toya’s seen akito when he gets this bad. they both know that there’s no simple remedy, that all they can do is wait it out. and although akito is more than accustomed to spending his bad days alone, he has to admit that it’s pleasant having toya there with him when he can finally crawl out of the aching numbness.
because, at the root of it all, toya understands. toya doesn’t call him lazy, doesn’t get upset with akito when he backs out of plans at the last minute. toya doesn’t force akito to speak or eat or do anything he feels like he can’t. toya understands how much akito hates himself for being so damn helpless .
akito absently wonders when toya will get sick of taking care of him.
“aki? kohane and an are here, is it okay if they stay?”
a hand slips into akito’s, and he curls his fingers loosely around it.
“squeeze once if you want them to stay, twice if you want them to leave.”
he tightens his grip, the movement barely distinguishable.
“okay. may i explain the situation to them? once for yes, twice for no.”
akito squeezes once more, then lets his hand go limp. he’s tired, he just wants to not exist.
“alright, thank you aki.” toya is so gentle, so patient, so kind. he must have done something extraordinary in a past life to deserve aoyagi toya.
akito surprises them both by dropping his head just enough to rest his forehead against toya’s side. he feels toya laugh lightly, then feels gentle fingers running through his hair.
for a reason he can’t understand, that was the breaking point. the tears well over and slip down his face, skin tingling wherever toya grazes it. akito desperately latches onto the sensation, needing to feel something physically if he can’t feel anything emotionally.
…he hadn’t realized how touch-starved he’s become.
someone knocks on the door, and toya answers for him. the girls enter, but akito doesn’t raise his head to greet them. he doesn’t think he could, even if he tried with all his might.
“hey akito, we brought some strawberries! you can have some if you feel up to it later.” that’s an. she speaks in her usual tone, like there’s nothing wrong. like he isn’t bound to the bed by his own brain.
“there’s also tea. it- um, it’s in a thermos so you can have it whenever and it won’t get cold.” kohane, considerate and nervous as always.
“come get me if you need anything, okay?” ena’s voice is soft. it's the same voice she used when they were kids, when akito got hurt or upset and she wanted to calm him down. it's the same voice she uses to tell him that she's proud of him. akito hasn't heard that voice in a while.
“thank you, shinonome-san.”
“i think we know each other well enough for you to use my first name, toya.”
“alright. thank you, ena-san.”
the hand brushing through akito’s hair hasn’t ceased since it began, a steady constant keeping him grounded to his body. the other three are chatting about nothing in particular, the sounds of their voices calming, familiar. and yet, that weight has settled in the crevices of akito’s skull, dimming his awareness of his surroundings. he scrunches his eyes shut and pushes his face into toya, whining quietly. it hurts. his head hurts and his eyes sting and he can’t hear his partners talking.
toya is saying something, akito thinks. he can feel the vibrations where he’s tucked into toya’s side, but he can’t focus for long enough to understand what’s being said or if the words are even directed at him. the tears pick up, dampening toya’s uniform.
akito doesn’t know how long he stays like that, floating in that awful state of feeling nothing and feeling everything. all he knows is that he doesn’t sleep, and the weight doesn’t go away. it’s distressingly fuzzy, like he’s caught in a cocoon of wool and can’t find a way out. if the nothingness of sleep is heaven, then the overwhelming emptiness of being forced out of his own sentience is absolute hell.
as akito ever-so-slowly returns to his body, several sensations break through his murky consciousness; the first is toya’s hand, still carding through akito’s hair, and the next is someone tracing patterns onto his shoulders and back. all tension in him fades under the comforting touches, and he practically melts into the mattress as a shiver runs through him.
“akito? are you back?”
too tired to make a sound, akito nods almost imperceptibly.
“okay. are you feeling better?”
he… isn’t sure. the headache is gone and he’s returned to the present moment, but the weight is still there and he’s just as (if not more than) tired as before. does that qualify as “better”? and, does toya mean better than before they showed up or better than when he was lost in his head? the question is so broad, and akito can't figure out how to ask for toya to elaborate. how is he supposed to know if he's feeling better if he doesn't even know how he's feeling?
apparently he’s taking too long to respond, because toya huffs a laugh and says, “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer.”
“um, you should probably drink something though, otherwise you’ll just feel worse,” kohane pipes up. she’s a little farther down the bed, probably squished against the wall so that akito could fully lay down.
“and eat something too, because if you don’t eat those strawberries then i will.” an’s voice comes from behind akito. he figures it’s her hand on his back.
he’s a little surprised (and maybe even impressed) at how well the girls are dealing with the whole situation, since they’ve never had to be around him when he gets like this. an’s not talking quite as loud as she usually does, but that’s the only irregularity — it’s almost like they’re all hanging out just for the hell of it.
on any other day, maybe akito would be upset for preventing his partners from doing more important things (and he probably will be once he’s back to normal). but for now he can push the thought to the back of his mind, his eyes drifting shut once more.
suddenly there’s a cold hand cupping his face, and akito flinches away from the touch. the hand pulls away a bit, but doesn’t fully retract.
“sorry aki, but kohane’s right. you should drink something.”
god, he could never say no to toya.
this time, when the hand brushes his chin, akito has braced himself. toya gently tilts akito’s head up, and when he forces his eyes open he can vaguely see his partner once again gazing adoringly at him. after wiping away dried tears from akito’s face, toya helps him sit up. it takes ages to get his sluggish body to cooperate, but toya is patient.
a thermos is passed from kohane to toya wordlessly. still mostly out of it, akito tracks the thermos blankly, watching toya pop open the lid and check the temperature.
“he’s cute when he’s like this,” an comments. her hand returns to its spot on akito’s back and resumes its motions, drawing out a sigh of contentment. normally he’d protest, insisting that he’s not cute motherfucker , but he's too dissociated to even recognize the compliment. toya hums in agreement with an, brushing akito's hair away from his face.
“i just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
toya holds out the thermos, and akito stares at it. he’s… he’s supposed to do something with it, he’s just not sure what. muscle memory makes akito’s hand twitch in an attempt to raise it, but his brain and his body are currently undergoing a tumultuous divorce.
“come on, aki,” toya coaxes. “you gotta drink some.”
ah. right.
akito leans forward and allows toya to assist him in sipping from the thermos. the green tea, temperature just right and perfectly brewed, is warm where it travels through his body. feeling begins to return to akito’s extremities, like he’s been laid out in the sun to thaw.
once the thermos is half empty, toya hands it back to kohane, who makes sure it’s capped properly before setting it on the bed.
now that he finally has control over (most) of his motor skills, akito clenches and flexes his hand a few times, relishing the sensations. the world is still hazy through his unfocused gaze, and he’s staring blankly at the wall, but at least he can feel the weight seeping out of his body like sand trickling through an hourglass.
“hey, dummy, you still there?”
slumping back against the pillows, akito nods. he’s mostly lucid, just… incredibly tired. despite having laid there the entire time, akito is completely drained, all his energy being spent on getting through his little episode. with the weight gradually waning, akito feels slightly dizzy from the lack of pressure. he blinks, and the room tilts.
“hey, careful! steady, steady. let’s get you lying down before you fall over. sound good?”
akito nods again. sitting up is too much, and forcing himself to focus on any singular sound or sight is nearly painful. so he lets an’s strong arms lower him back down onto the bed while toya tugs the blankets up to his neck. akito breathes deeply, sinking into the enticing warmth surrounding him.
everything fades into pleasant white noise when akito surrenders to sleep with a contented hum. as his consciousness slowly fades, he distantly thinks about how lucky he is to have such wonderful partners. he may not know why they love him, or why they choose to put up with his shit, but they do. they aren’t leaving him for now, and that’s enough for him.
akito falls asleep to the music of four hearts beating in the same rhythm.