Crash
aftermath.
Yuu sat at the table near the window, like always. He sipped at his coffee, reading a newspaper, as he always had. The coffee burnt his tongue and he made a face, and that was like always, too.
But the apartment was missing something; there was a hole in the silence, as though the place was too empty and too quiet. It unsettled him, and he took another drink from his coffee, attempting to push that uneasy feeling down. Something was wrong, and he knew it, and he could only clutch onto his mug and stare at the newspaper, feeling a bit lost.
He heard footsteps on the stairs, and he heard the sound of warm laughter, and he felt the cool breeze of someone entering the room. He sighed, closing his eyes, and relaxed a little as he felt slim arms wrap around his neck from behind. The barest brush of a kiss met his cheek, and the sensation made him smile.
"Good morning, handsome." He could hear soft chuckling in his ear as the arms were withdrawn and the presence shifted away, and he knew Kouyou enough to know that the presence would come back. He could almost hear the opening and closing of a cupboard, and he could barely hear soft humming and coffee being poured into a mug. The sounds were like distant memories, as though they were things he'd gotten far too used to, and he bit his lip for a moment, drinking from his coffee to settle another wave of unease.
He felt the hairs at the back of his neck rising a little as a cool breeze swept through the kitchen, and he looked back toward the sink, his small smile faltering when he saw that there was nothing there. The cabinet was as he'd left it- hanging slightly open- and the coffee maker had been off for an hour. He turned back to his newspaper, stiffening a little, attempting to fend off the sinking feeling in his gut.
His eyes scanned over the newspaper, and then the sinking feeling found its home. A picture of Kouyou beamed up at him, and it had been placed beside a column of text. And Yuu's eyes scanned over the text, and quickly, he remembered why he'd woken up crying. Takashima Kouyou, 28, passed away after being struck by a drunk driver, presumably on his way home.
Memories of the week before surged through him, and his grip tightened on the handle of the mug. His gaze was stuck on that single line as if out of morbid fascination, and he read it over and over just to understand how it could be true. He read the brief note about the memorial and burial, and his heart twisted in his chest, forcing him to continue on. He is survived by his parents, his brother, his nieces, and his fiance.
His coffee mug met the tabletop with more force than he'd intended, and he brushed the newspaper away. Instead of coffee, he decided, he would have whiskey, and that would do much more for erasing his memories. The first drink brought an onslaught of unwelcome emotions, and it was quickly followed by a second and a third to wash those feelings away. He was sure that he heard a disappointed sigh, and he screwed his eyes shut as he tipped his head back and finished off the glass.
More memories appeared- images of Kouyou's eternally-peaceful face, images of his casket being closed, images of his headstone, and images of his family sobbing over his grave- and he nearly broke the glass as he near-tossed it onto the counter. The intensity of the memories brought him to his knees, and he held his face in his hands. Feather-light, non-existing fingers brushed against his shoulder, and he felt those fingers touch his chin and brush over the back of his hand.
And for a second, those fingers seemed to pause over his engagement ring, and there was no greater want in his curled-up body than the want to open his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kouyou." The words left his lips in a whisper, and his voice shook so horribly that the real Kouyou never would have heard him anyway. The feather-light fingers brushed over his hair for a moment, and Yuu felt a chill pass through him as he realized that the presence was gone.
He was alone.
But the apartment was missing something; there was a hole in the silence, as though the place was too empty and too quiet. It unsettled him, and he took another drink from his coffee, attempting to push that uneasy feeling down. Something was wrong, and he knew it, and he could only clutch onto his mug and stare at the newspaper, feeling a bit lost.
He heard footsteps on the stairs, and he heard the sound of warm laughter, and he felt the cool breeze of someone entering the room. He sighed, closing his eyes, and relaxed a little as he felt slim arms wrap around his neck from behind. The barest brush of a kiss met his cheek, and the sensation made him smile.
"Good morning, handsome." He could hear soft chuckling in his ear as the arms were withdrawn and the presence shifted away, and he knew Kouyou enough to know that the presence would come back. He could almost hear the opening and closing of a cupboard, and he could barely hear soft humming and coffee being poured into a mug. The sounds were like distant memories, as though they were things he'd gotten far too used to, and he bit his lip for a moment, drinking from his coffee to settle another wave of unease.
He felt the hairs at the back of his neck rising a little as a cool breeze swept through the kitchen, and he looked back toward the sink, his small smile faltering when he saw that there was nothing there. The cabinet was as he'd left it- hanging slightly open- and the coffee maker had been off for an hour. He turned back to his newspaper, stiffening a little, attempting to fend off the sinking feeling in his gut.
His eyes scanned over the newspaper, and then the sinking feeling found its home. A picture of Kouyou beamed up at him, and it had been placed beside a column of text. And Yuu's eyes scanned over the text, and quickly, he remembered why he'd woken up crying. Takashima Kouyou, 28, passed away after being struck by a drunk driver, presumably on his way home.
Memories of the week before surged through him, and his grip tightened on the handle of the mug. His gaze was stuck on that single line as if out of morbid fascination, and he read it over and over just to understand how it could be true. He read the brief note about the memorial and burial, and his heart twisted in his chest, forcing him to continue on. He is survived by his parents, his brother, his nieces, and his fiance.
His coffee mug met the tabletop with more force than he'd intended, and he brushed the newspaper away. Instead of coffee, he decided, he would have whiskey, and that would do much more for erasing his memories. The first drink brought an onslaught of unwelcome emotions, and it was quickly followed by a second and a third to wash those feelings away. He was sure that he heard a disappointed sigh, and he screwed his eyes shut as he tipped his head back and finished off the glass.
More memories appeared- images of Kouyou's eternally-peaceful face, images of his casket being closed, images of his headstone, and images of his family sobbing over his grave- and he nearly broke the glass as he near-tossed it onto the counter. The intensity of the memories brought him to his knees, and he held his face in his hands. Feather-light, non-existing fingers brushed against his shoulder, and he felt those fingers touch his chin and brush over the back of his hand.
And for a second, those fingers seemed to pause over his engagement ring, and there was no greater want in his curled-up body than the want to open his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kouyou." The words left his lips in a whisper, and his voice shook so horribly that the real Kouyou never would have heard him anyway. The feather-light fingers brushed over his hair for a moment, and Yuu felt a chill pass through him as he realized that the presence was gone.
He was alone.