Chapter Text
Tuesday.
March 9th.
1:25 AM.
*You’ve reached the Kyoto Emergency Support Call line, an operator will answer you shortly. Please hold. If you require immediate assistance pre—*
No. He couldn't do it.
Tuesday.
March 9th.
1.47 AM.
*You’ve reached the Kyoto Emergency Support Call line, an operator will answer you shortly. Please hold. If you require immediate assistance press one*
The on-hold music was barely audible through the echoes of his own frantic heartbeat.
“Hello, I’m working with the Kyoto Support Centre. I’m Haruto, how can I help you toni—”
His phone flew across the bedroom.
Faint sobs, muffled by his pillow, became his sole companion.
Tuesday.
March 9th.
3.12 AM.
*You’ve reached the Kyoto Emergency Support Call line, an operator will answer you shortly. Please hold. If you require immediate assistance press one*
Distress overwhelmed him. He couldn't breathe.
“Hello, I'm working with—”.
Cries. Cries were all the operator heard.
“I’m right here. What’s happening?”
Coughs and laboured breaths.
Gasps and sniffs.
“Take your time, I'm staying with you… Can you hear me? You’re not alone.”
“H-hello… I… I… Sorry…”
He did it.
He spoke.
“It’s alright. Breathe. I won’t go anywhere.”
Pantings.
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Alright, good.”
Aches.
His limbs were unresponsive.
“Can you tell me why you called us? Did something happen to you?”
Flashbacks invaded his mind and he lost it, once again.
Cries.
Pain.
Strangled words.
“I… I can't. It’s…he... No!”
Panic arose.
His mind didn't belong to him anymore.
“Make it s-stop… please. I-I can't…”
“Hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Try to take a breath. Slowly… Good, just like that.”
“I… I…”
It was too much for him.
His whole body succumbed to the shivers.
“What’s your name?”
His name didn’t make it out of his mouth.
It was absorbed, diluted by all the sobs escaping in a cascade.
“My name is Temari.”
Her name. She had a soft, calm voice.
“What’s your name? Can you tell me?”
His mind hung onto her words, anchoring him to reality through the turmoil.
“Sh-shikamaru.”
“I’m Shikamaru. Sorry.”
“Don’t be, we’ll take all the time you need.”
Silence.
“Are you alone right now, Shikamaru?”
Her voice, it was soothing.
“Yes. No one’s h-home… Just me.”
“Is there anyone living with you usually?”
“My parents… They’re out tonight.”
“You didn't want them to hear you, right?”
“Yes…”
They witnessed too much already. It wasn't fair.
“Did they do something to you?”
“No. They’re good… It’s… There’s nothing they can do…”
“Have you talked with them, or with any friends? About…your situation?”
A sigh, full of meaning.
An intake of breath — long, so as to gather enough courage.
“They know…but… It doesn't change anything…”
Quiet sobs, rolling over the phone.
Distress, tearing his voice apart.
“I-I don’t know… what to do…”
“About what? Do you want to share a little with me, Shikamaru?”
Silence fell in, punctuated with sharp panting.
“Shikamaru, are you still there?”
Her voice was full of concern.
“Y-Yes… I’m here.”
“Does it happen often? The panic attacks?”
Short questions, short answers.
Maybe he could do it.
“Yes.”
“Several times a week, or more?”
“Every day…mostly at night…”
Then, nightmares would come running.
Trampling on his frail sanity.
“What do you do when it happens? To make it pass?”
They never really ceased to haunt him.
They were always there, seizing him and holding tight until he couldn't breathe.
“Nothing. Once it… starts I can’t… I can't move… I can’t… I can’t do anything!”
Anger.
A cry for help.
He was broken and no one could mend his shattered self.
“Help me…”
A plea, sent in last resort.
“I’m here, Shikamaru. I won’t hang up, I promise.”
Her voice was pushing away the terror’s dark claws.
“Shikamaru, I'm going to help you, alright?”
He threw up on the floor.
All the words he couldn't say were drowned.
“Shikamaru, try to sit down against a wall and lean your back on it. Do you hear me?”
Her voice to which he couldn't answer, as he gathered his forces to stay conscious.
“Take a deep breath, fill your lungs for as long as you can.”
It hurt.
The air made its way through his burning cold body.
“Good. I can hear you. Now slowly, let it out.”
He choked.
He tried again.
“Close your eyes, focus on my voice. Breathe.”
He lost track of time, but he could breathe.
“I’m still here, take your time, Shikamaru.”
He did.
The numbness began to retreat.
“Thank you.”
“Are you feeling better?”
He was exhausted.
“A bit…”
“I can stay over the phone. You don't have to answer if you’re not ready.”
She understood.
He breathed in.
“You can… talk. I-I’ll try.”
He breathed out.
“Alright, but tell me if it’s too much. I can wait.”
Her voice was preventing him from collapsing.
“When did you start having these panic attacks, Shikamaru?”
“Three months.”
“It's been a long time. Are they usually this strong, or tonight was a really tough one?”
“It depends… But tonight, it was… too much.”
“I understand, at night it’s often rougher… I suppose you don’t get much sleep then. No proper rest…”
“Not really… I have pills but…”
“It doesn't help much, does it?”
The pills made him confused and haggard.
“It’s not fixing… anything.”
“Is it a doctor or a specialist who prescribed the medicine, Shikamaru? Are you seeing someone?”
“Yes, there is a… centre downtown…”
He didn't like it.
It made it all worse.
“How is it going? Does it help you a little?”
“No, it’s not… They want me to… talk, but…”
They tried to force it out of him from the first day.
“It’s still painful, isn't it? You can't talk because it’s too hard to verbalise what you’re feeling?”
“Yes. And…”
Silence.
He was given what he needed most: time.
“The sessions… they’re always the same…”
“You mean they ask you the same questions each time?
“Every time.”
They played with his wounds and tore them even wider.
They left him to struggle in his agony.
“I’m so sorry to hear that…”
Her voice was full of compassion.
“Is that why you called us, instead of them?”
“Maybe. I…”
He coughed.
His throat dried out.
“It’s fine, Shikamaru. There are several ways to find the help you're looking for. And there is no shame in seeking out someone else. Your health and your life are precious, Shikamaru. You did good tonight.”
Her words reached a part of him he had thought was long gone.
“I-I… need a minute. Can you… wait? Please?”
Relief; he embraced it, eyes closed.
“Of course. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
A sigh, then another.
Footsteps and running water.
“Are you still there?”
Fear.
He dreaded being alone.
“Always.”
Hope.
He wasn't alone.
“Thanks, and… sorry.”
“I meant it when I said I wasn't leaving you. I’m not ending this call until you decide it, Shikamaru.”
His fingers clenched around the phone.
“How do you feel now?”
Sick.
That question made him sick.
“Shikamaru?”
He didn't know.
He felt too much.
“I heard water. Did you freshen up a little?”
Simple.
Better.
“Yes. My mouth tasted… bad.”
He could still smell the vomit.
It was revolting.
“Is there anything you feel up to talking about?”
“I don’t know…”
He wanted to talk, but the words kept dying on his lips.
“Do you want me to keep talking? Or maybe you have some questions you’d like to ask?”
“Why are you… here?”
“What do you mean? Here on the phone, or here at the centre?”
“Centre.”
“Oh. Well, I’m a psychology student, and I did an internship last year in a foster care centre. When it ended, I felt I… needed to do more.”
Her voice was genuinely kind.
“Then, I found out about this place and signed up as a volunteer. I started shifts in the afternoon, I welcomed those who came into the centre, and tried to help them the best I could. Sometimes, we simply sat around a cup of coffee without saying a word.”
Her words rang through his ears like a soothing song.
“And a few weeks ago, I chose to switch to the emergency call line at night. I’ve listened to so many people, telling me how hard it was at that time for them. Once everyone they knew went to bed, or the places they went during the day were closed… they were left alone with themselves.”
He knew too well about darkness.
It was his nightmares’ playground.
“That’s why I’m here. To answer to those who are calling at their worst. To people like you, Shikamaru. To tell them they’re not alone anymore.”
His eyes were burning.
His throat tightened.
“Do you hear me, Shikamaru? You are not alone. I’m right here, and I'll help you through this if you want me to. You don't have to do it on your own.”
He sighed.
He cried.
And for once, it didn't hurt.
“I-I… He…”
He choked on his words, on the reality he never wished to face.
“He…”
Her silence was an open door.
“He’s dead.”
He walked through that door, shaking.
The burdensome weight, crushing his feeble mind and body, pushed all his emotions out.
He screamed in distress, his tears carrying out the broken fragments of his soul.
He was panting, running out of air, paralysed in the dead of the night.
He bit his own fist when the nausea crawled back up.
His mouth was filled with blood.
He was back to the same state he was in two hours ago.
Yet, it felt different.
“It’s alright, Shikamaru. Let it out… You can let it out.”
He finally understood the meaning behind those words.
He had voiced his pain, instead of being silenced by it.
“Let it out, and breathe. Can you breathe with me, Shikamaru? In… and out…”
He spat the blood’s remains and closed his eyes.
“That’s it, good. A couple more times, alright, Shikamaru? Slowly inhale… and exhale.”
A last, single tear rolled off down his cheek.
The shakings were spreading out.
“Your breathing is getting better. You’re doing great, Shikamaru.”
A sniff and the sound of a blowing nose.
A cough and a clearing of the throat.
“Shikamaru?”
“Here.”
“I am deeply sorry for your loss. He must have been very important to you.”
He is.
No.
“Yes… He was.”
“Is it since his… passing that you started to have panic attacks?”
These crises were only the tip of the iceberg.
“Yes.”
“Can I ask you what his name was?”
Her question resonated inside his mind.
No one ever cared to ask for his name.
Silence.
Then a whisper:
“Asuma.”
He deserved to be known.
“Asuma… Thank you for sharing it with me, Shikamaru. I know how hard it can be to talk about the ones we lost.”
Her words were the first ones he truly believed in for the past three months.
“Thanks… for staying.”
He shivered and yawned.
He was worn out.
“Shikamaru?”
Footsteps and a door opening.
“I have to clean the… floor.”
His parents couldn't witness another pool of sorrow.
“Alright. Do you want to hang up, or do you want me to stay a little while longer?”
He couldn't ask.
“It’s okay, I can stay, Shikamaru.”
Her words were considerate.
Safety.
“I-I… Thank you.”
There was silence followed by scrubbing noises.
Water and mop.
A locking door.
“Done.”
“Are you going to be okay until your parents come back?”
“Think so.”
He probably wouldn't.
“Could I… call again?”
“As often as you need it, always. For tonight my shift ends at 7.00 AM. One of my colleagues may answer you, but if you want, I can leave them a note, and they'll transfer you to my line. Would this be alright for you?”
“Y-Yes.”
He needed to sleep as much as he dreaded to meet with his nightmares again.
“Shikamaru? There’s something else I'd like to say before you go… May I?”
He tried to carve her voice into the depths of his mind.
“Sure.”
“We, here at the centre, have a postal service to which you can write. If talking is too complicated for you, you can send us a letter.”
A second chance.
“Do you have our address?”
“The one on the website?”
“Yes, this one. There will always be someone to write back to you.”
Someone .
He tensed.
“But if you’d prefer to keep exchanging with me, you just need to add my name above the address… Do you remember my name?”
He couldn't forget.
Her name brought him back from the pit.
“Temari.”
“That’s right. If you want to give it a try, I'll be there to answer you.”
“Maybe…”
“Good.”
“I’m exhausted…”
He barely had enough strength to talk.
“I know, Shikamaru. Are you all set to catch some sleep?”
Silence.
“Do you want me to keep you company for a bit?”
“Please.”
He needed a few more minutes of her, a few more minutes of support.
“Alright.”
He waited, curled up in his bed.
He could hear her breathing.
“Thank you.”
A murmur, full of gratitude.
“You’re welcome. Try to take care of yourself, Shikamaru.”
Her voice was as gentle as a soft breeze.
“Whenever you’re ready, reach out to me.”
A sigh of appeasement.
With his eyes closed, he hung up.
Tuesday.
March 9th.
4.49 A.M.
On the other end of the phone, a voice spoke softly.
“Goodnight, Shikamaru.”