Chapter Text
On the surface, Akito was nothing but a bright, passionate phoenix that flamed, blasting itself high into the sky, a boy with bountiful amounts of resolve and potential that everyone could see, even if that said person was sent whirling upside down; they could still be able to see the talent Akito held in his grasp.
Yet, as Akito sat at his singular sofa, headphones lodged into his ears, and his throat constricted by some unknown force pulling him back, he couldn’t see it for himself.
His room was dark and only his breathing could be heard against the beat of his music. It replayed over, over, and over again, and he searched for the right details to pinpoint, but there was no result other than the scowl that would appear on his face as he tried again.
And again.
And again.
Akito paced around irregularly as he stared down at his phone with bitterness– it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch– the problem in his vocals and in his music was right there, all for display. He couldn’t help but curse at himself for his careless antics and coordinated the arrangement again, trying to do anything to fix it.
It was one of those sinking times, where he would come back to life and realize how isolated he was away from his friends. In the suffocating silence and darkness, he almost wanted to strangle himself.
“Damn it,” He whispered, “Why isn’t any of this working out?”
“There has to be a way to fix this. There has to be a way that I can do this.”
So he replayed the music and tried again, and again, and again– yet his sound was getting more distorted and choking every time. His music turned deafening to his ears. Akito knew quite well that when he realizes that he has reached this point, that he is too far in to save himself.
He took off his wired headphones in frustration and tossed it onto his bed. He looked down at his hands and saw them tremble.
It was all right. All he needed to do was rest, and to think about what he could do next. He melted as he leaned back onto the armrest, eyes staying frozen on the black mug sitting on the desk in front of him.
There was an inescapable darkness now trying to eat him, and he felt powerless. His music felt like it was getting nowhere. He was getting nowhere– and it felt like he was running in the same place while his friends moved on without him.
Akito hated this part of his mindset with a guttural rage.
Although… no matter how frustrated he got…
Akito’s eyes floated back to his headphones laying on his bed. In a slow motion, he swiped them back on.
And there came the cycle for the next couple of hours, drowning in a pool of inferiority and frustration, because all he could do was wallow in his own, desperate self.
It was late into the night. Akito’s mind and body were strong, but he couldn’t have counted how many times where he threw himself onto his bed in frustration. All the times where he’d delete his vocals and try again. All the times where he had nothing to do but yell in his microphone.
So the darkness encapsulated him now as he laid on his bed, eyes drooping with exhaustion. He stared up bleakly into his ceiling with his headphones still lodged into his blind ears.
Akito gripped his phone. He wanted to continue so bad. But sometimes…
He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.
He tried to ignore his mind that was yelling at him, because he shouldn’t have been in his position for so long, he should’ve been ahead, looking at all of the hours he had taken to pursue music. Because he shouldn’t have failed trying to do something people adored him for.
Akito was just stuck.
He opened his eyes, and in a blur of swelling tears, he glanced to his phone and swiped to his contacts.
Toya. An. Kohane. They were sitting there, most likely asleep, but he could send them a text and they would come to help.
Right?
Akito’s grip on his phone faded, and he let it tumble to the floor as he swiveled his body around with his blanket.
No. Just go to sleep and everything will be fine in the morning.
You can try again tomorrow, with fresh ears and a fresh mindset.
You can try again…
Tomorrow.
That day had come, and after another gruelling day of just trying to get through school with his worn out mindset, homework and study papers laying all across his room, he sang with his headphones on in annoyance.
A knock had surfaced into his ears. Akito glanced at his door. “What?” He asked tiredly.
The door cracked open, and Ena peeked her head in. “Mom ordered food.” She said plainly.
“It’s fine. Not hungry.” Akito responded flatly, eyes flitting back to the beats on his phone– in a frustrated grunt, he reeled his knees close to his body.
Ena stared at him. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
…
“You know you won’t get any better if you don’t tell someone.” Ena let herself into his room completely now– her pink ruffled blouse was a new color amidst all of the grey and orange lying around. Akito shifted his weight in hesitation.
“Ena…” He started. He was surprised by how weak his voice was.
Was it really getting this bad?
“...I want to keep pursuing music.” He confirmed.
“Well I think that was pretty obvious.” Ena deadpanned, and she sat down near the edge of Akito’s bed– he promptly huffed and a tinge of annoyance came rushing in because of his sister, but it died quickly. “So?”
“But– but nothing ever sounds right anymore.”
Damn it. I’m getting all nervous now, this is embarrassing.
His headphones now weighed fifteen tons on his head, and he took them off uncomfortably and shut off his phone. Ena stared at him in thought.
“If I had to be honest,” She muttered in that part, “You’re a great singer. None of your beats are… that bad, to be honest.”
“You don’t sound convincing at all.” Akito swatted her.
“Ouch–! Seriously! I mean so!” She argued, “You’re good at singing. You know how to beatbox… but I get how you feel.”
“Right.” Akito turned abnormally silent. “You get it.”
“I do.” Ena’s chocolate eyes gazed into his soul deeply now, expression softening. Akito’s eyes widened– she never did that too much. “I bet you’re wondering if I’m lying or not.”
…
Akito’s body felt uncomfortable now, and the grip around his phone tightened. He lowered his head– because she was right. He wanted to believe that he was making progress, but all he could think about was how so many more people were ahead of him— how could someone truly compliment a guy like himself?
His breath trembled, and so did his soul. “…Yeah.”
Ena pursed her lips. “I don’t know exactly what you’re going through. Maybe it goes deeper. But I get it.”
They sat in silence together, in a time period that felt like it was almost hours, before Ena silently got up and walked towards his door. “There’s some fluffy cheesecake Mom ordered as well.” She mumbled. “Don’t be too late, or it’ll be all gone soon.”
“Okay.”
She regarded Akito again with a rare, understanding look before exiting and closing the door.
And then Akito was yet again left alone, having a standoff with his passion, which currently had a gun pointed right to his head.
After a couple of hours, he walked out of his room with his headphones in and his body listless as he glanced at the table. There was a small plate sitting on it, and on it laid a carefully cut slice of cheesecake. It was sprinkled with powdered sugar and dark berries. A note laid next to it, which was in Ena’s handwriting:
I saved some for you, because I’m nice.
He scoffed, disregarding the last part, but he still snatched the plate and trudged back to his room. He was now fueled with newfound energy, a finally fresh tank of passion to burn for the next couple of hours that bled into the night. He calmly sat down at his chair and began to listen carefully to his music.
And again.
And again.
And again– but all of those dreadful thoughts and feelings came rushing back, tossing and turning him back and forth, and he had no way to fight back other than to just keep trying. He kept recording, vigor fading away from his body as he scraped the plate clean of any remnant of cheesecake. The flavors dulled on his tongue.
No. It can’t be the same as yesterday. He thought as he buried his hands in his hair, locking them in place.
Akito sucked in sharply with his teeth, and replayed it.
Soon enough, it was nighttime, and his vision burned with both exhaustion and a wave of desperation. His phone screen shone that annoying blue light onto his face as he moved the arrangement around to see if it could fix that itch he couldn’t scratch.
Something was just wrong with his voice. Something was wrong with him.
And he knew that once he was in this mindset, he had already lost.
Akito closed his phone and refrained from the urge to scream into his pillow.
He was just so tired.
He felt himself slipping, and knew the best thing he could do was to fall asleep and be done with everything.
Thoughts consumed him, clouding his mind so much he barely noticed the small tears singing his face as they rolled down. His body felt impossibly stiff yet limp against the armrest and– and he was just so– so– frustrated!
Shit!
None of this is working.
After a moment of pure silence in his room, he let his headphones fall off his ears and tumble to the ground. He stared at his phone. Slowly but surely, he took the chance to glance at his contact list again.
An… Kohane…
Toya.
His breathing came to a complete stop, as if he were frozen in time– somehow, he felt stuck, but he knew Toya could help him.
So, with the rest of his strength, he messaged his partner.
Akito (2:33AM)
are you awake
my bad, this is really late. i’m not having a good time right now.
could you come over
Please
To his most adamant surprise, chat bubbles popped up in the corner. Toya was awake.
Toya (2:35AM)
Of course
It might take me one moment
I’ll be there.
I’ll be there. Akito echoed.
He didn’t want to admit it, he never did, but he felt tears line his eyes again, and was grateful for the new phoenix that was Aoyagi Toya.