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Anger was a complicated feeling. Bachira wasn’t used to anger at all, maybe that was why his only way to express it was by crying. He couldn’t help it, to be completely honest, he couldn’t feel it either, the burning of his eyes was merely a ghost of his memories, the tears that soaked his cheeks were freezing enough to make him feel the slightest bit numb, and sure, his shoulders were shaking enough to be annoying, but again, it was… nothing, nothing at all.
He sobbed, hugging his legs to himself tighter, he didn’t feel like quieting down, no, he had held it together for weeks, he wasn’t about to try and be… calm, not anymore at least. What was the worst that could have happened anyway?
He didn’t even have time to think that when he heard that voice he had learned to resent call his name, a name that wasn’t really his anymore.
“Bachira?”
Bachira stilled completely, not making a single sound.
“It’s me,” he tried again, “are— are you okay?”
He couldn’t help the half sob that left his lips, fuck, Isagi could be a fucking idiot sometimes, uh.
“It’s okay,” Isagi was obviously panicking, “we— talk to me, Bachira, where are you?”
“Go away,” Bachira choked out, I don’t wanna see you, I don’t wanna talk to you, go away.
Of course, Isagi was stubborn enough to try again. “I’m sorry, really, we can talk about this, please, please talk to me.”
You haven’t cared about me until now, he couldn’t help but think, what changed?
Bachira didn’t answer, he didn’t want to, still, a part of him, that soft, sad, forgiving one, was screaming at him, Give him a chance, he might have changed, he might explain, he might care again, I… I don’t wanna lose the only person who cared enough to stay.
Ignoring the other side screaming sentences that just made him feel more angry, Bachira knocked once on the closed door of the stall. He heard Isagi’s step come closer, Isagi knocked on the door, whispering a Can I come in?
Bachira simply let the door open, he didn’t even look at him, just trying his best not to make noises, not to cry, not to shake.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Isagi asked, gods, Bachira was going insane.
He shook his head. “You should know. But don’t worry about me, go on pretending I don't exist.”
Part of him wanted Isagi to be hurt, to feel even if just a spec of what he was feeling, another one was crying because he didn’t want to be rude. Fuck them both.
“You’re crying and corporeal, that’s not a good sign,” there was… something in Isagi’s voice, something that Bachira didn’t like at all.
“You don’t say?”
There was a moment of silence, then, Bachira stilled completely.
“I’m sorry, ” Isagi said, Bachira could tell that he meant it, he could tell he felt guilty.
He didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you and not spending time with you, I completely understand you distancing yourself from me because of this.” Isagi continued. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I don't value you or our friendship, and I’m sorry I cared more about me not being seen as crazy than you.”
That was enough to make Bachira raise his head, he barely had voice when he asked, “You understand?”
Isagi stilled. “I—”
“You understand me distancing myself from you?” Bachira noticed the light flickering, he noticed the wind that crashed on Isagi’s face, he didn’t care. “You— You started ignoring me, you stopped talking to me, you have been acting like I don’t exist at all, don’t fucking come here now and tell me that I’ve been distancing myself.”
Isagi stared at him, wide eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean it that way?” Bachira smiled, he let more tears fall from his eyes, he didn’t care about how his voice cracked. “Of course you didn’t, you had… what, two weeks to think of what you did, and still can’t express it as you want? I get it, you didn’t mean to, you didn’t wanna be seen as crazy, I get it completely, you’re talking to the guy who played soccer all his life with an imaginary monster, I get it, but don’t fucking come here and put the blame on me, you did this, all by yourself, and I—”
He stopped, as if he needed to catch his breath, as if he still needed to breathe. Even with tears in his eyes, he could still see clearly the way Isagi looked taken aback, so… lost.
“I’m sorry,” Bachira said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I— I’m angry at you, you— you’re such a stupid person. I both wanted to say it like that and… forget it and forgive you on the spot, but—”
“I don’t want you to forgive me on the spot,” Isagi muttered, looking straight at him, “that— that’s bound to collapse.”
Bachira shrugged. “I— even if I’m angry, I still— want to be with you, wanna be your friend, you… you gave me something I never had, you can’t just throw it away at the first chance, did you really think it would have been all sunshine and flowers after… this?”
“I wasn’t thinking, when it started,” Isagi said, “I… no, I was, but I was thinking about myself, without taking you and your feelings in consideration at all. I’m sorry, Bachira, for… everything, for distancing myself from you, for making all of this a mess, for hurting you, for not thinking about you. I really am, and it’s okay if you’re angry, it’s okay if it won’t be the best from the start, but please, I…I need you, you can take all the time you need, you can do anything, it would be okay. I promise I’ll be there when you come back.”
Bachira looked at him for a moment, he looked away. “I’m not planning on going away.”
Isagi didn’t speak.
“I’m not, but… we…” he sighed, “I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” Isagi smiled, “do you wanna possess me and eat something?”
Bachira smiled. “You never let me possess you when we eat, you always complain I eat too much.”
“I do,” Isagi’s smile didn’t falter, “you can though, as a… more sophisticated I’m sorry.”
“I’m gonna make you regret it,” Bachira laughed.
Isagi couldn’t help but laugh too. “I can’t wait.”
And maybe that was it, maybe it was… something Bachira didn’t recognize, but he was… angry. He was angry at himself, at how easily he could still joke and talk with him, angry because he needed him, in a way, in that way anyone needs at least one person, someone to ground himself, someone to… care about. He wasn’t sure, no, he didn’t understand a single thought in his head, but Isagi was smiling at him, and that smile alone had always helped him see the light at the end of the tunnel, in a way.
As unimportant as it was, Bachira just nodded, and let himself take over him. And there they were, the burnt of his eyes, the wetness of his cheeks, the shaking, the hole in his chest, as real as he had always felt them. They grounded him enough to make the lights stay on though, so that was good enough.