[ugetsu considers not picking up, because of course he does. ugetsu considers reaching for the puddle of spilled wine and glass and running his hand through it the same as the surface of the ocean where self-inflicted danger says it would be easy. ugetsu considers akihiko, considers aki in all the places he remembers him best and the one that's clearest sharpest warmest in winter of all is this: aki with his hands cradling ugetsu's face after an accident when they were younger, kissing him between the eyes like a bullet that ugetsu would never ever be able to remove, asking him over and over and over if he was okay if he was really really okay and let's go home.
what ugetsu does not remember: how his own usually impervious hands couldn't stop shaking all that night.
his hands are shaking now too.
strange.
he lets the phone ring almost too long, committed to not picking up, when panic flares up again. he'd let it scatter a bit far before, so he has to scramble upright to pull himself over to where it is, fumbling and dropping it even as he hits 'accept'. he's not sure if the phone or his own body hits the floor first, but for the first few seconds of the call he says nothing. it's just the unsteady thinness of his breaths: shuddering in like they don't want to, splaying out because they need somewhere to go whether they're wanted or not; in, out.
in all his life, he's really only ever known two things: music...and aki. ]
That's... [ Do You need help? he almost laughs but he can't quite, coughs instead, sighs like he's already detached himself from the situation, which in a way, he has. in his voice there's the little tells of how it's been going: not well. though he did try at the beginning, threw himself into music unlike ever before until recently when music started to retract its arms and its affair and ugetsu...
well, he's here now. isn't he: the brittle quiet of his voice with the usual coy game it will probably die with, because if anything is ugetsu's last bastion it's his ability to lie to and evade the person who matters the most to him. ] ...that's what...they say.
[ that he needs help. that he's let it go too far. and he can't even argue, not really, so why bother? he's glad, at least, he got akihiko to call him, and he'll hear his voice, and maybe that will be that because despite all of this, ugetsu still believes akihiko has well and truly moved past him. it's just that, behind that 'scary' face, is a person who cares. anyone who knows aki, knows that.
ugetsu doesn't read into his concern because for as much sanguine strength as he puts out there, it's not because it's true; it's because he doesn't know what else to do. ]
poor akihiko....ugetsu shaving years off his life even before they collide properly
what ugetsu does not remember: how his own usually impervious hands couldn't stop shaking all that night.
his hands are shaking now too.
strange.
he lets the phone ring almost too long, committed to not picking up, when panic flares up again. he'd let it scatter a bit far before, so he has to scramble upright to pull himself over to where it is, fumbling and dropping it even as he hits 'accept'. he's not sure if the phone or his own body hits the floor first, but for the first few seconds of the call he says nothing. it's just the unsteady thinness of his breaths: shuddering in like they don't want to, splaying out because they need somewhere to go whether they're wanted or not; in, out.
in all his life, he's really only ever known two things: music...and aki. ]
That's... [ Do You need help? he almost laughs but he can't quite, coughs instead, sighs like he's already detached himself from the situation, which in a way, he has. in his voice there's the little tells of how it's been going: not well. though he did try at the beginning, threw himself into music unlike ever before until recently when music started to retract its arms and its affair and ugetsu...
well, he's here now. isn't he: the brittle quiet of his voice with the usual coy game it will probably die with, because if anything is ugetsu's last bastion it's his ability to lie to and evade the person who matters the most to him. ] ...that's what...they say.
[ that he needs help. that he's let it go too far. and he can't even argue, not really, so why bother? he's glad, at least, he got akihiko to call him, and he'll hear his voice, and maybe that will be that because despite all of this, ugetsu still believes akihiko has well and truly moved past him. it's just that, behind that 'scary' face, is a person who cares. anyone who knows aki, knows that.
ugetsu doesn't read into his concern because for as much sanguine strength as he puts out there, it's not because it's true; it's because he doesn't know what else to do. ]