Thirteen Months

Tea Tin

TW // disturbing imagery, dissociation, ptsd

The smell of alcohol.

The metallic taste of blood.

Hands everywhere.

I can't move. Something hot and rough biting at my neck and collarbone. Hands around my throat. Trying to kick my legs, but they feel too heavy. Frozen. Helpless. Small. I can barely breathe. I don't know what's happening. I recede into my own head, anything to get away from what is happening right now. Trying to numb myself, to not feel. It doesn't work. My heart is beating so fast. This doesn't feel right. I don't like it. It feels foreign, invasive. Make it stop. Please make it stop. I want to die. Kill me. Anything to make it stop. Help, please. Just stop. Why doesn't anyone listen? Stop. Everywhere hurts. Excruciating pain. It burns. There's blood everywhere. I just want to disappear. Please, make it stop. Please.

***

Daichi shuffled sluggishly to the kitchen and opened the cupboard. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Where's the tea tin?" He looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on the open tin sitting on the counter. "Dad must've left it out," he mused. He shuffled to the tea kettle to find it already piping hot. "Dad?" He peeked around the corner, thinking he would see his father sitting on the couch, perhaps finishing up some things from his work. Instead, Mizuko sat at the corner of the couch, a mug of tea clutched in her hands. She seemed to be almost in another world; her eyes were hollow and empty and lifeless. "Mizuko, what are you doing out here?" He whispered as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. She didn't respond. She didn't even move.

It was at that moment that he noticed several things. First, her hands were shaking. Second, her chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace. Third, she didn't seem to register the heat of the burning mug in her hands. Reaching over, Daichi quickly took the mug from her, setting it on the coffee table. Mizuko didn't even blink, continuing to stare straight ahead. "Mizuko? Mizu?" Daichi tried to get her attention again. What did his friend do when he was like this? Wait...maybe they still had it.

Daichi quickly rushed to the hall closet and flicked the lightswitch. "Please be here," he muttered. "AHA!" Quickly, he scooped up the object he was looking for, a fuzzy grey heated blanket, and lugged it back over to the couch. Plugging it into an outlet, Daichi switched it on and held it out to Mizuko. She didn't move. "Mizu?" He murmured softly, bending down in front where she was sitting on the couch. "Hey, it's Daichi," he continued. "I've got a heated blanket here. My friend used to love using this whenever he was having a hard time, would you like to use it?" No response. "Okay, that's fine. I'm just going to put it on your lap, okay? If it gets too hot, just let me know." Slowly, Daichi spread the fuzzy material across her lap as best he could. He then settled himself on the opposite end of the couch and waited, watching Mizuko closely for any other signs of distress.

After a while, Mizuko seemed to register the sensation of the blanket. Her fingers traced the soft material and she snuggled it closer to herself. "Here," Daichi murmured, reaching over slowly. "My friend said it's really nice when it's wrapped around his shoulders, like this." He carefully reached around Mizuko's shoulders and wrapped the heated blanket around her, taking note of her slight flinch as he moved closer to her. Something was seriously wrong; Mizuko hadn't flinched away from him since after her panic attack under the bed, which had almost been over a month ago by now.

Daichi quickly pulled out his phone from his pajama pants' pocket. Dialing a number, he held the device to his ear. "Come on...pick up..." he muttered.

"Daichi? Why are you calling me? It's almost 2:30 in the morning," a groggy voice muttered on the other end.

"I know, I'm sorry, Suga. I wouldn't have called you unless it was an emergency," Daichi said.

"Like that time you got drunk at Oikawa's party and almost--"

"Now's not the time," Daichi said quickly, cutting off the rehashing of what he and Sugawara called 'The Captain's Party Debacle.' "Listen, Mizuko seems to be doing one of those things you used to do, and I can't get her to snap out of it."

"Have you tried the--"

"Yeah, I gave her the heated blanket. I don't know what to do," Daichi said, desperation filling his voice.

"Should you wake up your parents?"

"I don't think so, she's still not super comfortable around them yet. I think they might end up making the situation worse. Plus, they're still not super great at understanding this kind of stuff, you remember, right?"

"Yeah, that's true." Sugawara sighed.  "It sounds pretty bad."

"It is," Daichi agreed.  "Could you come over? She's been staring at the same spot for almost half an hour now." He waited for a response from the other side of the phone.

"Daichi," Sugawara said. "How long have you known me?"

"Since middle school?"

"Correct. And what do you know about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know I care deeply for my friends. I'll always be there for them. So, Daichi, my friend. Where do you think I am?"

"Uh, what?"

"I'm outside your house, you idiot. Let me in," Sugawara said. Daichi couldn't help but grin at his friend's words. Of course the setter was already there, that was Sugawara for you.

"Okay, Mizuko," Daichi said, switching his phone off and looking at the girl. "I'm going to let Suga in real quick, okay? I'll be right back."  No response.