Chapter Text
Toya was beginning to worry about his partner.
It wasn’t anything unusual for Akito to be a little grumpy at school. But something just seemed…off today.
Just yesterday, everything had seemed relatively fine. Besides the usual banter between him and An, and some homework struggles, he had been happy to take a walk with Toya and even finished his homework eventually.
But since the moment he’d first seen Akito the following morning, his partner had been oddly quiet. Usually Akito would practically run up to Toya and bump his arm or ruffle his hair, and then complain about school. This time he’d just mumbled a halfhearted “hi” and walked beside him in silence.
Maybe something really had been wrong the previous day, and Toya hadn’t even noticed. That sort of thing seemed to happen a lot. People got frustrated with him for it.
But as he racked his brain, trying desperately to search back through every single moment of yesterday, he came up empty-handed. Or empty-minded, rather.
Which meant something had probably happened once Akito had returned home. Or maybe Toya had done something wrong without realizing it? Had he said anything offensive to him? Could Akito be mad at him?
“Hey, cheer up, pouty,” An said now, startling Toya out of his trance. She was sitting on his left, Akito on his right, as the three of them ate lunch in their usual spot. “What’s with the face?”
Toya averted his eyes to his bento, unappetizing food staring back at him from his lap.
Akito hadn’t said a word the entire time.
“Nothing,” Toya replied unconvincingly.
An just raised a skeptical eyebrow and went back to eating her lunch.
Picking hard at his fingers, Toya continued to just sort of stare off into space. An and Akito both had told him that recently, he's been showing his emotions more, becoming less reserved about them, more comfortable with them. Quite frankly, Toya wasn't entirely sure whether that was a good thing. Because that meant An and Akito could both see just how uneasy he was, which made him a little uncomfortable. He wanted to hide his face.
Toya knew he could be over-analytical about things. The people closest to him often said that he thought too much, which was ironic, because his more distant acquaintances told him he thought too little. They told him he was cold and insensitive to others’ emotions and never picked up on situational cues.
Toya was beginning to think they were right. How else would he have completely missed any sort of sign that Akito wasn't doing well?
He sighed, resting his chin on his knees, folded up to his chest. Guilt swam around his head.
Akito was his partner. Toya was supposed to know everything about him, notice everything about him, pick up on subtle changes…All the things that Akito did for him. Yet he was failing.
“Dude, seriously,” An’s voice came from next to him. “You look like a kicked puppy. Did something happen?”
No, I’m not the one you should be worrying about, Toya wanted to say. Please notice Akito. Not me.
“Nothing happened,” Toya insisted. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akito’s orange blur of hair turn to look at him. Great, now Akito was going to worry, too. It should be the other way around.
Toya’s shoulders twitched a little. He turned his head to face Akito, and, oh.
Somehow he looked worse.
His partner’s hazel green eyes bore into his, dull and a little droopy, brows furrowed together. But behind the obvious pain in Akito’s expression, he studied Toya with concern.
Neither of them said anything.
An leaned over from the other side of Toya. “Geez, I feel like I’m third wheeling over here! It’s like you guys talk telepathically.”
Toya didn’t respond to An, assuming that Akito would probably have something witty to say, but he only averted his eyes from Toya and went back to picking at his untouched bento.
He wasn’t eating. Akito wasn’t eating. Why wasn’t he eating?
Toya kept his gaze fixed on his partner, watching the tiny details of his face, analyzing them. The slight frown that perpetually tugged at his lips. The exhaustion in his eyes as they darted between his bento to the ground and back. The dark circles that clung to the skin right below them. His slightly rumpled hair as the breeze brushed it messily over his forehead.
Toya wanted to hug him.
But since An was right there, he settled for resting his head on Akito’s shoulder instead.
He felt the way the other boy tensed up. In a fleeting moment of panic, he wondered if it hadn’t been the best idea. But moments later, Akito’s body relaxed, and Toya felt the soft bump of his partner’s head leaning on his own.
And all of Toya’s worries melted away.
~
Practice that day was a little strange.
They went to buy drinks from the vending machine like normal, but Akito didn’t get anything for himself. He bought Toya a water bottle and silently stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.
That wasn’t normal.
What was going on today?
Maybe he should ask. Akito could probably already tell he was worried, so there was no point in pretending like he wasn’t. Plus, he wanted to help Akito. He wanted to help him so bad.
So many times Akito had been there for Toya. He’d seen him at his absolute worst. He’d found Toya when he was lost and depressed, just an empty shell floating aimlessly through life, and gave him hope. A partner. A friend. Akito deserved the same.
Akito deserved the world.
Toya cleared his throat. “Akito?”
His partner stared back at him. “What?” he said, a little snappy.
Toya blinked. That tone hurt. “Nothing,” he said hoarsely. “You’re just…something feels off today. Are you…are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“But you-”
“I’m fine, Toya.”
His voice was sharper the second time.
Toya swallowed, saliva sticking thickly in his throat. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
The second those words left his tongue, Akito’s expression softened tenfold. He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. “No, I’m sorry. I…sorry. I’m just…yeah.”
The corners of Toya’s lips lifted a bit. “Yeah,” he repeated. “I understand.”
When Akito pulled his hands from his face, his eyes were swimming with guilt. “I’m not mad at you,” he said, and Toya didn’t miss the way his voice wobbled a little. “It’s just…me. It’s a me thing. Just dealing with some stuff. I’m fine, though. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay.”
Toya furrowed his brows, unconvinced. “Are you sure? We can talk about it, if you want. I can listen.”
Akito’s eyes lifted from the ground back up to Toya’s face. He looked conflicted—as though he wanted to open up, but he was scared. Toya didn’t want him to be scared. He wanted him to feel safe, and comfortable, to be vulnerable. Toya had been vulnerable with Akito before, so many times. He wanted to repay the favor. He wanted Akito to be happy.
As happy as he’d made Toya.
But Akito only shook his head, and Toya’s heart sank. “Nah, there’s no time for that. We gotta practice.”
There’s always time for you, Toya wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. He choked out a soft “ok” instead, his stomach churning with unease.
Toya couldn't really focus during practice. He kept glancing over at Akito way too often, checking on him, making sure he was okay. He sang just as well as usual, and his voice had the same butterfly-inducing effect on Toya as it always did. But what he lacked was his typical fiery energy.
Akito had always been extremely hyper. During school, it was sort of an obstacle, but when he sang, all that energy had an outlet. And it would all come pouring out in the form of the most intense, emotional, life-changing performance one could imagine. God, Toya could listen to that passionate voice forever.
But today…
In his face, there remained a smidge of unhappiness. His movements were smaller and more stiff than usual. It was the type of unmotivated, distracted expression that Toya would’ve never expected from his partner in a million years.
He found it hard to watch.
“Shiraishi, Azusawa,” Toya called during their break, approaching An and Kohane as both girls toweled the sweat off their necks.
An turned to him, unscrewing the cap of her water bottle. “Yeah?” She took a swig. “What’s up?”
Toya glanced behind himself anxiously, making sure Akito was out of earshot. “Do you think Akito’s been acting…strange today?” he asked softly.
An handed the bottle of water to Kohane. “Whaddaya mean? Like, grumpy?” She giggled, lowering herself down onto the nearby bench. “So like every other day?”
Toya gave her an unamused stare. “You know that’s not what I mean. He’s…”
Casting another glance at Akito over his shoulder, Toya’s figure deflated a bit. His gaze returned to An. “...sad,” he finished lamely. “Maybe. I can’t exactly be sure.”
An raised her eyebrows, her grin fading as she exchanged a look with Kohane, who had sat down next to her on the bench. “Akito? Sad? You really think so?”
Toya shifted in place, fiddling with his necklace. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I may be overreacting. I still have a hard time reading people.”
Except…that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, he struggled with putting an exact name to his or others’ feelings, but he knew something was wrong about Akito. He knew it with his entire heart, and he absolutely hated watching his partner like this, upset and isolating himself and not allowing Toya to help.
Kohane must have noticed the silence stretching between them, because she reached out and laid her hand on Toya’s arm. “If you really think something isn’t right, then we could ask him about it,” she chimed in, her voice soft and kind. “I will admit he’s been a bit off since we first got here. But I was trying not to get too worried, since he was fine yesterday...”
Sighing, Toya sat down beside her, rubbing the side of his face. “I tried talking to him a bit ago,” he told her, “but he insisted he was fine. He…he said he could handle things on his own. But I’m still worried.”
From beside Toya, An scrunched up her nose, nodding at his words. “Yeah. I get you.” She patted him lightly on the back before planting her hands on her knees and pushing herself to her feet again. “We gotta keep an eye on him. But right now, we also gotta finish practice.”
Toya glanced up at her. She was right; they had to practice. But all Toya wanted to think about was Akito. All he could think about was Akito.
“Right,” he mumbled, but he wasn’t even sure he’d said it out loud.
~
Toya wound up inviting Akito to sleep over that night.
It was sort of a thoughtless offer, considering the obstacle of his father and the fact that he’d neglected to tidy his room. But he figured Akito needed it, and he didn’t really care much about what his dad thought anyway. Plus, Akito’s initial reaction to the invitation was one Toya wished he could watch on repeat forever. He’d nodded before the question had even fully left Toya’s mouth, looking ever grateful for his partner. He’d stared at him as if he'd hung all the stars in the sky.
So now the two boys walked home together in comfortable silence, the crickets chirping in the dark all around them. Toya didn't try to make conversation, because he could tell Akito didn't want to talk, and he was probably just as tired (if not more) as Toya from practice.
He did check on him every few moments though, casting glances just to make sure he was okay.
He did not look okay.
Akito walked beside Toya with a certain odd stiffness to his step and his head hanging low, staring silently at the sidewalk as he walked. He looked like he was, unsurprisingly, stuck in his head. He didn't say a word the entire walk.
When the two of them arrived before Toya’s front step, he dug out his key, unlocking the door and pushing it open for Akito. Toya stepped inside after him, pulling the door shut behind him.
They climbed the staircase together, up to Toya’s room, the house quiet. Toya figured his dad was likely working in his office, which meant no unwanted interruptions or lectures. Good, he thought. It’s better that way.
Toya held his bedroom door open for Akito.
Once Akito was inside, he just sort of stood awkwardly in the middle of the room with his back to Toya, the faint buzzing of the desk lamp in the corner making Toya’s ears ring. He remained frozen in the doorway, watching Akito’s back, picking hard at his fingers.
The room was dim. Most of the light was streaming in from the adjacent hallway through the open door, behind Toya, a strip of it illuminating the back of Akito’s head.
“Um,” Toya managed finally, his voice quiet, hoarse. “Akito, you can…you can sit down, you know.”
Toya watched Akito’s shoulders tense up. He didn’t sit down, but he did turn to face him. And when he saw his face, Toya could've sworn he felt his heart reach all the way down to his feet.
Toya knew him well. He knew all his faces, all his moods, all his giveaways. All the subtle little ways he’d hide his feelings. But it didn’t take any sort of genius to see the pain twisted into Akito’s expression. The way his eyes shimmered, just slightly, in the dim light from the hallway.
“My dad took my phone,” Akito said finally, choking on the words a little. “So I can’t…I can’t come to sekai for a couple days. Or weeks. It depends when I get it back.”
Toya’s heart nearly stopped at the sudden revelation, feeling fragile with the way Akito’s voice shook when he spoke. He took a step closer to him. “It’s okay,” he tried to say, but his voice didn’t come out quite right, his throat tight, so it sounded like a whisper.
He wanted to hug him. He wanted to hug him so badly, and he hadn’t been able to earlier, so his limbs were practically itching with it. But he also knew that sometimes, when Akito was upset, physical contact could be frustrating for him. So Toya stood there, conflicted, just picking at his cuticles harder and harder as his mouth worked around his question. “Can I,” he began, his voice dying out, “can I hug you?”
He watched Akito’s eyes well up a little, before he nodded, hesitantly. Toya wasted no time in stumbling forward and gathering up his partner into his arms.
Toya was taller than Akito, just slightly, so he had to bend his neck downward to press his nose into Akito’s collar. He had so much he wanted to say. So much, but his voice wasn’t working, so he attempted to pour all of it into the hug. His arms tightened around Akito, to let him know he was safe. That he could lean on him.
Toya felt Akito’s body go almost boneless in his hold. Their chests were pressed together, and Toya could feel Akito’s heart pounding through his ribcage, fast and hard.
“M’sorry,” he heard Akito’s muffled voice mumble, all choked up and scratchy. The sound of it was physically painful.
“No, don’t apologize,” Toya begged Akito, practically clinging onto him, his hands grasping at the back of his partner’s jacket. “You don't need to be sorry.” He tried to tug him closer, hanging on for dear life as he desperately tried to tether Akito somewhere safer than his own mind.
Toya wished he’d let go. He wished he’d allow himself to fall against Toya, who’d hold him tight, and just allow himself to feel.
Akito wasn't letting himself cry, and it broke Toya’s heart.
He wanted to hold him forever. God, how he wanted to just keep him safe in his arms and make him somehow believe that everything was going to be okay, even if Toya wasn't even sure of it himself, because all he wanted was for Akito to be okay.
The hug didn't last nearly long enough. Akito pulled away, and Toya’s limbs ached with the loss of the touch.
“Man, tch, I’m beat,” Akito choked through a broken, strained sound, like something of a sob, covered poorly with a laugh. He rubbed his knuckles over his mouth. “I just wanna sleep, is that okay? Sorry. I’m sorry. I just need…yeah.”
Toya shook his head through Akito’s rushed, blurted apologies, trying to guide himself through his own breathing so that he wouldn't start bawling. “It’s alright,” he managed, the words partially dying halfway up his throat, and he weakly gestured to his bed. “Lie down.”
Akito wasted no time in crawling onto the mattress, flopping down and promptly rolling onto his side, facing the wall.
Toya spent a long, drawn-out few seconds just staring at his partner’s back, his figure all crumpled up into a tight ball. His chest ached.
Eventually, Toya mustered up enough strength to close his door, before making his way over to his desk to click off the lamp. Instantly the room was plunged into a thick, tense silence without the buzzing of the old bulb. It blanketed the air, and something about the combination of the quiet with the sight of Akito curled up on his side in the dark made Toya feel as though his entire world was crashing down on him from all directions. And considering he’d lost all sense of reason already, it wasn’t hard for him to decide that the only thing that mattered in the world right now was comforting his partner.
So he ignored the hammering in his chest and crawled into his bed next to Akito.
Likely having felt the mattress dip, Akito rolled over, facing Toya. His eyebrows were scrunched slightly, squinting at Toya with what seemed like a mix of confusion and grogginess, which successfully sent Toya’s stomach on a rollercoaster ride.
He pulled the covers back, sliding his legs beneath them and allowing Akito to do the same. Toya’s bed wasn’t exactly anything huge. Their heads ended up inches apart on the pillows.
As Toya watched Akito’s olivine eyes gaze back at him in the dark of the room, something like love welled up in his throat.
Whatever was going on with Akito, he wanted to be there for him. Even if it meant sleeping silently beside him, just to show he cared.
His eyes grew heavy. As sleep’s gentle hands reached out and caught him, there was one single thought left echoing in his mind.
I love you, Akito.
A promise. For eternity.