Seta Souji ▫ 瀬多総司 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eatsyourscience) wrote2010-08-22 10:06 pm
eatsyourscience) wrote2010-08-22 10:06 pm
For my fine aquatic Otter friend
It's been two days.
Two days alone in this house, without Nanako's cheerful "welcome home!". Without the nightly quiz shows on the television downstairs, without dirty dishes in the sink, without the simple knowledge that he isn't the only one there. It's unbearable. Even Dojima's absence, as common an occurrence as it is, seems more obvious than normal.
Souji hates being alone. He'd forgotten what it was like, or has been letting himself think he has. The first night, after coming home from the hospital, he convinces himself to remain calm and settles for pacing first the living room and then his bedroom restlessly. He's gotten used to staying up late, sometimes only sleeping four or five hours a night, so it doesn't faze him when he barely gets about two hours total--stolen ten minutes at a time when he sits down on the couch in his room and considers calling someone, but doesn't.
That first day is a blur, and so is the second night, but in a different way. He knows what he spend the night doing. He knows because his room is a disaster. Everything that he could break, everything he could rip or throw or flip or otherwise destroy has been. He barely remembers doing any of it and he can't bring himself to care when he wakes up on the floor in the middle of the mess on the second day. He doesn't say anything to his friends because if he does they'll worry about him, and he doesn't want that. There are more important things to be focused on right now than his self-indulgent tantrums. Besides, if they knew he was faltering this much, and now when he most needs to be the leader--
And now it's the end of the second day and the start of the third night, and there's nothing left to do except notice how empty the house is around him.
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"If--" He can't bring himself to say those words. The kitchen counter creaks and he forces himself to let it go.
Opening his eyes, he stares at Yousuke, and some of his hopelessness comes through in his voice. "...What do I do?"
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"We can only believe that she's going to be okay. I mean, that's all I can think of..."
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We, as if he knew the feeling. Maybe he did already. Maybe he meant to share it.
"We'll make sure who's responsible gets what they deserve. That's as far as we can go."
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He doesn't know what else to say. He wants to flip the table over in frustration, but he's already destroyed his own room and it hadn't helped any. Besides, this was a shared space. This was where Nanako would come home to. He couldn't do anything to damage it.
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Of course he is. He always does, when it's something to do with himself.
"Thanks. I'll...I'm going to do my best."
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He looks up, as sincere as someone like himself can be.
"I'd like to help you. To... be there, I guess. I'm second in command for a reason, right? I may not think things out all the way, but that's why I'm the one that ends up coming on a night like this."
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He can feel his face flushing some, so he puts his hand on his neck and tries to distract himself.
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"At least my uncle isn't here." Dojima would have been... Well, concerned might be putting it too lightly.
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