Work Text:
Aqua's life is a dull, unchanging routine.
He wakes up sometime around Four or Five in the morning, the early one out of both of them. He sits up on the bed, bleary eyes focusing and unfocusing as he regains awareness of his surroundings once again.
He breathes in.
He looks down at his hands, then to the wall, adorned with photos— one, two, three, four, five.
He breathes out.
Aqua's hands feel the familiar worn down material of the bed sheets, and the proximity of Akane's body to his, his own hair sticking to his face after some fumbling, the pillow behind him. He can hear the rustle of leaves from the outside through the beeping alarm, and after he's eventually turned it off, in the still quiet, Akane's soft breaths through her sleep.
The room smells like bergamot and lavender, the diffuser from the other end of the room still serving its purpose. He swallows down the bike that has risen up his throat. It tastes sour.
Eventually, he's gathered enough strength to stop lazing around and drag his feet off the bed.
( "You don't need to take care of me." He spits out, his eyes downcast as he can't even bring himself to look up at her. He doesn't need to look to know the way she frowns, her fingers gripping his, just a tad more tighter than before.
"You don't understand," Akane replies, her voice remaining soft, but her tone is ever insistent and stubborn, "I want to take care of you.")
At around Six or so, She wakes up as well, joining him at the kitchen with pout, whining about how he should've woken her up too. Aqua can't control the way his lips twitch up then, hiding the lower half of his face behind a mug as he retorts.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have slept through the alarm."
As expected, Akane only pouts more, seating herself near the kitchen counter and looking away, her arms crossed like a child. He chuckles as he slides a cup over to her.
"Don't make fun of me," She chides, grabbing it just as quickly. "You always turn it off before I can hear it, anyways."
"Is that so?" He hums, putting his own cup down onto the counter. "Or is it that you just want an excuse for sleeping in?"
"Meanie. I've been working late these days, you know? Those extra hours are needed." Akane giggles, her tone lighthearted, but the undercurrent of tiredness has now become more prominent.
Suddenly, he feels a slight pang in his chest. She's right. She has been extremely busy these days and, so has he. Maybe he should've been kinder. It's not like she's not exhausted from everything.
He sighs. "Right."
He has also seated himself across the counter next to Akane by the time she starts ranting. He provides quick quips and responses as she drones on, but he's started to tune out her words despite himself. Everything has started to blue itself together now, and he feels guilty at the feeling of relief at the sound of the phone ringing.
He has no right to feel this way, his mind is quick to remind him. To be tired, or annoyed, or exhausted by the hell he has trapped the both of them in. In fact, he has no one to blame but himself. He agrees with his mind on that. How could he not?
("This... We're only going through with this because we've both agreed to."
Aqua breathes out, looking up at her, his words failing him as he struggles with what to say next. He doesn't know why he does. Perhaps he wants an out, for her— or selfishly, for himself.
"..We can back out of this the moment you say so, Akane."
He waits for a response, seconds moving like molasses.
"I can handle it, Aqua-kun.")
Work starts at Nine. He greets the Miyako over at the Ichigo Productions building at about Eight thirty, it's a quick drive there from home. He spends a few moments checking over his schedule, before having to depart again to where the shoot will be. He runs into Ruby on the way there. They don't talk.
Once he's reached the place, he feels a bit lighter. Akane calls sometime around noon. Busied with work, he forgets to answer, until it's just too late to call back.
("Do you even really like me?" Akane pipes up one night, half joking, their limbs tangled up underneath the bedsheets. "Don't answer that. I—" She breathes out, the lighthearted tone now starting to falter. "I don't—"
Aqua turns to face her, but he still can't dare look at her eyes. He wishes he could just say yes. He wishes it were really just that simple, or even that he could confess those words, that he does. That he really does, but just not in the way he's expected to. Not in the way he's supposed to.
But what he does is pull her closer, his hands moving up to her face as he closes the gap between them. Perhaps it's just the least he could do.)
Work ends at Ten at night. The drive back home is nothing new, either. Through the window, Aqua catches a glimpse at a broadcast through the billboards— fiery reds, an ever present galaxy, unmistakable. After a few stops, he pulls the car over to catch his breath.
("You're... You really are getting married, Huh?")
Aqua barely doesn't remember the time when he gets home. It's not like it matters that much in the first place. Akane has come home earlier than him, this time, judging by the plates laid out in the dining room table, neatly covered up, with more dishes, and confirming his theory, she lay with her head resting on the marble, uncomfortably slumped over the counter. He drapes his coat over her as a sorry excuse for an apology.
Making his way into the bathroom, he turns on the water tap, and after staring blankly at the water spilling out for just a bit too long, he splashes a few handfuls of water over his face.
(He watches over from far away, his body almost detached from his soul as he watches Akane, frantic, trying to wash away the crimson that just doesn't seem to go away.
"Why can't it just go away?")
It seems that today too, he'll be plagued by the same nightmares.