Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
he feels so small, but so are the stars from a distant
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AUGUST SEVENTH, TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE
04:20 in the morning
THOSE BEAUTIFUL SEA-COLOURED eyes refused to look his way. For a whole week, Tobio Kageyama was left without the company of his soulmate. Of all them. He had told the others—Kunimi, Kindaichi, Iwaizumi and Oikawa—not to come by, not when he could feel the plethora of negative emotions funnelling through the open channel between his soul and Sora's soul. It was faint, but Tobio was glad it was still open. Was glad that no icy wall was present.
He never wanted to experience isolation from the one person he adored more than volleyball.
And it was at that conclusion that Tobio's life started spiralling before his eyes. His mental health plummeted, and his volleyball playing fumbled as a result, technique slipping past his fingers, tears threatening to rise with every thought of his beloved soulmate that popped into his head. His chest heaved, rising and falling rapidly. As he sat upright in his bed, Tobio's chin quivered, lips trembling.
Crystals tears rolled off his face, dropping and soaking into the blanket. The room was cold. The area beside him was awfully chilly. His hand reached over. Fingers gripped the white sheet, blunt nails digging into the fabric.
A comforting embrace, a caring smile, a pair of kind eyes— none were in his presence.
And in the house next door, a soaked Sora exhaled deeply, laying in his bathtub, arms propped on either side, the cooling water swaying around his bare skin. The icy despair flowed through his body, an ache blossoming from his chest and spreading through every vein and artery trailing under his skin.
Cerulean eyes fluttered shut.
His body sank into the water. He submerged himself fully, allowing his body to feel immobile within the restriction of his bathtub. His surroundings faded, reality draining from the depths of his soul. A fire blazed in his lungs at the lack of oxygen, and Sora found himself relishing in the heat.
Everyone has a reason to stop breathing.
An alarm blared throughout the empty, previously silent bathroom. The siren-like sound had Sora shooting up with a gasp. His lungs burned. Coughing harshly, Sora pounded his enclosed fists against his chest, hoping to relieve the pain. And yet, despite it all, despite the fury of his organs, despite the white and black dots fogging his vision, despite the ragged breaths he desperately took, a strange pleasure was found interweaving with the swimmer's brain.
Hands clasped either side of the porcelain tub, and various muscles flexed under stretched skin as Sora lifted himself up. Drops of water raced down his body. He threw his head back, carding slender fingers through long dark hair. Removing the drain's blocker, Sora rinsed himself off with soap and water, making sure to thoroughly wash his hair with both shampoo and conditioner before stepping out. Yanking the towel off the argent rack lining his tiled wall, Sora wrapped himself in the fluffy material. He exited the bathroom with the faint echo of a deserted heart.
