Guardian

Chapter 17

Drowning. It was the one thing he could tie to the feeling he had in his gut. Like he was surrounded by some sort of darkness he didn't understand, didn't 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to understand. It was too much. Overwhelming feelings of fear and paranoia threatened to take him in its arms, like a monsterous friend, holding him, squeeze him. It was too much. He'd much rather drown in the emptiness he used to feel, throw the blanket of nothing over his head and stay there. Hide from his emotions as he used to in high school. Ignore the light, floating feelings the more positive emotions made him feel. Fear the heights to fear the falls, hate the high to hide from the low. Ever since his light left, the candle in the dark, sunlight on an Alaskan winter day, star in the night, stolen by the curses of time and distance and 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 that separated them. Oh, how he wished to throw himself through the darkness and chase the light. But he couldn't. His light was gone, happier and brighter with someone else. They didn't have anything back then. He'd bullied and teased and pushed the light away, scared of how it made his gut churn, how his heart picked up, his head felt light, and he wanted to do nothing more than to smile and hold him until they turned to dust.

Panic, overwhelming, raw panic consumed him at the memories brought up by the past. God, why did he have to go to that party? All he did was fuel a spark that would never turn to a flame. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 ever turn into a flame. It couldn't be done, he couldn't deal with it. Couldn't pull the light away from the one it had attached to. His hand flew to his chest and he gripped his shirt, breath growing short, hard to come by, hard to grasp and fill his lungs with. Oxegyn seemed to run away from him. He couldn't reach it, couldn't fill his lungs to work his brain. His heartbeat like a drum in his chest, filling his ears. Even with his glasses on, he couldn't see, couldn't make out the blurry shapes surrounding him. Tears. Warm, salty tears filled his eyes, spilling onto his cheeks. He grimaced, hand tightening on his shirt. Why was this happening now? Of all places, why here? Why 𝘯𝘰𝘸 of all times? He was weak, growing weaker with each passing moment. The knob turned on the door, a creak of the door opening broke through his panic, a quick bullet of reality to the haze made around him. His name was shouted and suddenly arms were around him. 

Warm, welcoming arms. Friendly arms. Familiar arms. He leaned into the person holding him, hiding his face in their shoulder. Their hand rubbed his back comfortingly, their voice whispering soft words of comfort in his ear, scent filling his nose as his breathing steadied. He began to calm down, the smell of wildflowers and libraries familiar, an anchor to reality. He wiped his eyes dry on his sleeves, pulling away. The blurry green-grey shape in front of him looked up and smiled. Or at least, he thought so. His glasses had fallen off and he felt around for them. Yamaguchi picked them up and put them in his friend's waiting hand. Putting them on, the shorter male came into clear focus once more, slightly smeared around the bottom edge where tears clung to the lenses and warped his vision. 

"Are you alright, Tsukki?" Yamaguchi's voice was clear now, not muddled with Tsukishima's heartbeat, which had also settled to a slightly-above-average pace. "I came home and you were whimpering like someone kicked a puppy." He hated the analogy. He wasn't some defenseless dog, he was an adult. He was in his thirties for heaven's sake. 

"I'm fine Tadashi." Tsukishima snapped, drying his face. "Just had a moment. That's all." He took a few deep breaths. The nagging in his head started up again. '𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘒𝘦𝘪. 𝘛𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵.' Oh, bug off Akiteru. He grumpily shook his head to clear his brother's voice. "I'm fine." He repeated to his friend. He was more of a glow-in-the-dark fish in the darkness than light, but it didn't hurt his eyes as much as the light did, so he preferred his company.

"You're doing that thing again." Tadashi accused. Kei raised an eyebrow at him and frowned. "You're analogy thing. I can tell from how you're eyeing me. Stop it Tsukki. You arent' soaked in darkness or whatever. You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" Kei looked away guiltily, confirming the green-haired boy's suspicions. "Tsukki, it's over. He's on a completely different island, and there's no Ice Age anytime soon to connect it." Dinosaur talk. 

"I don't care Tadashi. I'm over it now." It was a blatant lie and they both knew it. "I'm not going to swim over an ocean to an island I know nothing about, no matter how many other dinosaurs or green trees there are. I'll sit and die with my island alone, thanks." He was getting snippy, rude, highschool Tsukishima levels of it too.

"Tsukki, I'm on this island too if you haven't noticed. You should talk to him. Who knows, maybe it'll help you." Tadashi suggested. 

"No!" Kei said, quickly and loudly enough to make Tadashi flinch. Feeling horrible, he repeated himself in a quieter voice. "No. It's not going to help, I'll just feel worse about it. I can't do this Tadashi. I give up, I'm scheduling a therapist." He reached for his phone but the shorter male grabbed his wrist. Surprised, he looked at him.

"Talk to him. Once. That's all I'm asking you for. One talk, barely five minutes long, then see. If it's worse, get a therapist. I know Akiteru-San has been bugging you about it. I think he forgets what I do as a hobby." Tadashi smiled. Kei knew he'd been taking college courses on mental health, so he scoffed. 

"Five minutes. That's all your getting." He said. Tadashi's grin was contagious and the blonde felt his lips tug into a small smile despite his efforts. Five minutes wouldn't end the world, would it? Maybe... just maybe...