ImmediatelyWriting's One Shots

#59. Banana Fish - Ash/Eiji) A 2AM Phone Call Can Only Mean 2 Things

Summary: It was almost 2AM, but Eiji still couldn't sleep.
How could he, when he'd been forced to leave his loved one behind in the chaos that was America?
All clocks chimed 2AM.
Eiji's phone lit up as a caller reached him. Eiji held his breath and picked up, because a phone call at 2AM could only mean 2 things; very good news, or extremely bad news.

Fandom: Banana Fish
Ship: Ash/Eiji
Genre: Angst, Fix-It Fic, Alternative Ending

________________________________

It was a couple of minutes before the clocks would chime 2 AM, way too late for Eiji to be up.

Usually, that would be. But this wasn't like any ordinary day at all. Eiji had just gotten off the plane a couple of hours ago. Of course, it had taken him this long to get reunited with his family; they all wanted to know how he'd been in America, this mainly because they'd dealt with some big scares, hearing that their son had been hanging around with a boy from the mafia and had also been shot because of that. It could last months of rehabilitation until Eiji would actually walk properly again, so he guessed they had a right to worry.

The whole reunion thing at home had taken Eiji so long that he hadn't even cared about unpacking his bags before lying down onto his bed. Honestly, that wasn't the only reason why he'd not unpacked his suitcase just yet; his head may have been back in Japan, knowing clearly that he was never going to go back to the place where he'd picked up more than one trauma. But his heart, that was still in America, with the mafia boy his parents would never let him meet again.

Eiji laid awake, staring at his pillow, wishing that Ash was be lying beside him. That's how it was supposed to go; Ash was going to come with him back to Japan, Ash was going to learn Japanese and live a life without the guns and the fighting and the constant risk of a gruesome death. That was the promise that they'd made.

But then Eiji had to got shot and be hospitalized and Ash was being kept away from him and-

A tear slipped down Eiji's cheek.

This just wasn't how it was supposed to go down. That's all.

Right now, Eiji didn't even know if Ash was alive. If he'd actually received his letter. Sure, Sing had promised, before Eiji got on the plane, that the letter had been delivered and Ash apparently told Sing to tell Eiji "hi", but what if Sing was lying to make Eiji feel less terrible about leaving. Eiji would think that Ash got his letter and therefore had gotten a proper "goodbye" or "see you soon" from Eiji, while in reality his words would never reach Ash. He didn't know. And that bugged him.

Eiji's hand laid on the pillow, his finger resting on the button. Eiji's screen lit up when his finger pushed the button. His eyes glaring at the bright light lighting up his room. There was nothing he'd hoped for; no message, no call. Not a sign from Ash.

It made sense, Ash didn't have Eiji's phone number, and even if he did; he could've chosen to come with Eiji to Japan if he'd been quick about it, but he didn't. He probably didn't want to speak to Eiji even if he did have his contacts. He was doing this on purpose, not to hurt Eiji – that's what it did, though – but because he wanted to protect Eiji from whatever dangerous people still walked around.

Eiji sighed; the only thing his phone showed him that it was 2AM now. A time he'd seen a lot when he'd barely slept in America for days a row, he needed to stay awake to stay safe. To protect himself and others, even if it was just from the nightmares that terrorized him each time he closed his eyes. Now, the memories wouldn't stop reminding him of how he'd lived for the past years; he'd probably still see nightly visions of Shorter's body collapsing onto him or a bullet flying in his direction knowing it'd hit him. Those wouldn't stop; not if from now on he'd fall asleep around the time he'd normally sleep, or 2AM, or never. They were always there. And even if they wouldn't come to him in the form of nightmares, he'd be reminded each time he saw the scars that now marked his body.