Afterward - BananaFish (ONGOING)

Part Ten - Routine

The days that pass blur around the edges until they reluctantly melt into one another, leaving Eiji with no sense of the amount of time pushing forwards around him.

Each minute felt numb. Each hour felt overwhelming.

He knew in some sense what depression was, how it worked, and what it did to you. There was also the fact that he knew for the most part he should be getting some major therapy right about now. But he couldn't bring himself to do so, he couldn't talk about it out loud. He refused to even say any of their names, cursing himself whenever they ring about in his mind.

Skipper. Shorter. Ash.

He dreamt distorted dreams in the night; taunting the trauma that left him alone with his intrusive thoughts. Bullets punching him in the abdomen, over and over again. Vision blurry as he fell to the ground, ears ringing loud. Through his fluttering eyelids he could spy a pale face amongst blonde hair, and a rough voice calling his name. And then he was falling, falling into a room with a thud, knife to his throat, piercing wails echoing the room, wide eyes fearfully clinging to his. "Shorter! Please, no!" He could hear himself croak out in despair. But it was too late, because the knife was driving through his chest and suddenly he was staring at a little boy he'd called his friend, bullet wounds piercing his skin. Body hitting the pavement.

And he woke up.

He drank coffee, despite the bitter distaste he had for it. He would eat breakfast; sometimes. He would stand in the shower and let cold water run down his neck. He would get changed. He would go downstairs, greet his coworkers. He would stand behind a counter and scan items till lunch. He'd eat lunch, sushi most of the time. Even though store bought felt like an insult to his whole culture. And then he'd be working again till he was dismissed.

And every single time he dragged himself up the stairs, collapsed on his bed, and buried his aching face into his pillow, he resented himself just that little bit more.

15 year old Eiji would have slapped him. Hard. With a grin on his face he'd tell Eiji to man up, that he has his whole life ahead of him, and there's no point in giving it up now!
20 year old Eiji would tell him to stay in Japan.

No. That was a lie really; he was miserable in Japan too. Maybe not as miserable as he was now, but after the accident he didn't see his purpose for much longer. Until he did. He had the heavy weight of a camera in his hands, following closely behind Ibe San, cautious of his dangerous surrounding as he stepped into the bar that smelt strongly of beer and cigarettes.

And there was his purpose. In the shape of a beautiful boy, jade eyes glinting from a distance, even in the dimmed lighting of the room.

That purpose was no longer.

Eiji rolled over from his sprawled position on the creaking bed he had slumped on, the sound of his phone buzzing as he did so. He stared at the screen for a moment too long, hesitation eating at him as he contemplated picking it up.

"H-hello?" Eiji greeted in his home language, feeling familiar with the foreign words rolling off his tongue.

"Ei-Chan! How have you been?" Ibes voice replied, a seemingly forced tone in his voice. "Max told me you started work, I'm proud!"

Eiji smiled at his efforts, although he knew they could not see each other through the phone he held to his ear. "Thank you Ibe San, it's been very productive. I have started working in the store below where I live."

"The Americans dont call it a convenience store for no reason." The older man attempted at a joke, "how is it? Not too many hours?"

The Japanse boy knew this trick; he'd used it on Ash many times, just to get him talking when he'd purposely isolated himself, not speaking for hours and hours. It broke Eijis heart to remember he was just a boy.

"Not too many, don't worry." He replied, keeping each sentence blunt in hope of the fact Ibe wouldn't drag this on. "How is your family doing?" He changed the subject.

Ibe hummed through the phone, "it's been content," he said softly, "it was my brothers kids birthday today, Akira, we went an aquarium and ate cake."

Eiji rolled onto his back, phone still in his hand and pressed up to his ear as stared off at the ceiling. He wondered if Ash had ever been to an aquarium.

"How old did he turn?" Eiji wondered out loud.

The other side of the phone presented a chuckle, and then a sigh, "Akira is a girl, her parents wanted a boy and...." his voice trailed off, "she turned 8 today."

There was a lingering silence and the two friends realised there was nothing much to talk about after all. Ibe phoned and texted every now and again, and each time it went the same.

"How are you?"
"Well thank you, and you?"
"I am doing well."

And each time Eiji would push the topic to whatever the elder had been up to, it's not like Eiji had anything exciting to talk about himself. Although, he could describe in detail the cracks that decorated the ceiling, and the white and blue tiles on the bathroom wall.

"I hope you're well Ei-Chan. Please call me if you need me, and remember to visit Japan again soon."

"Thank you, I will."

And another conversation ended with the beep of a phone. And another day ended with nothing achieved.