The first thing you felt was a migraine pulsing through your entire head; you felt your skull coming close to cracking open, its gelatinous contents spilling out, the ceaseless pressure which pursued, and the tiring agony that followed. The second was the wave of fatigue that seemed to linger for an eternity, holding you tight, squeezing the life out of you, closing in on the thin thread that connected you to reality. And the third, perhaps the hardest one of them all, was both the relentless loneliness mixed with the feeling of absolute nothingness. The bitter relationship you had with yourself left you exhausted; this creature clung to you like a malignant tumor, spreading its sickness throughout your body, leaving you miserable.
You stared at the night sky. A blank look was fixated on your jaded face, though the stars twinkled fiercely right in front of you. It was a beautiful site to see; on occasion you caught a satellite passing by, but nothing phased you. It was cloudless, cold, dark, silent. You found yourself sitting on the roof of the Matsuno household, gently running your hand over the shingles, feeling ridges dig into your hand, giving you a palpable substance that reminded you, you were not completely numb. A million thoughts ran through your head, yet no words could convey a single one.
You decided to pull your knees close to you and rest the side of your head on them so you still had a view of the sky. You were comfortable, but on the inside you were anything but. Your vision suddenly became temporarily clouded as tears slowly welled up. Your face remained expressionless, but you could feel the sadness speaking for itself through your eyes.
After a short time, tears flowed in much smaller quantities. One here. One there. No persistence whatsoever. As you felt your eyelids get heavy as one would expect after a good cry, you heard the door knob that led to the roof start to rattle. Without warning, a shadowy figure appeared–one of the sextuplets for sure. A nearby streetlight briefly cascaded onto his face as he walked towards you–unaware of your presence. It was Karamatsu.
"Karamatsu?" you whispered, "What are you doing up here?"
He quickly lunged back at the sound of an unnamed voice, but regained his composure when he recognized it belonged to you.
"(Y/N)? I suppose I have the same question for you."
You wiped the remaining tears off your face with your sleeve and looked up at him– hoping he didn't see the pink tinge to your eyes.
"Oh...I just can't sleep, that's all," you responded flatly.
He plopped down beside you, legs crossed, lost in thought, and surprisingly not being painful for once.
"I can't sleep either. Some nights are worse than others for me. I'd say this one is pretty bad."
"Why is that?" you asked. You tilted your head to the side with expressed concern in your voice.
"It's nothing," he said. The end of his sentence trailed off, signaling to you there was an obvious problem.
You placed your hand on his shoulder, ever so gently, yet firm enough to let him know you wanted answers.
He let out a short sigh and lowered his head down towards the top of the roof, repeating the rhythmic tapping of his nails on the old shingles. With the aid of the streetlight, you noticed the glimmer or tears as they caught the light and disappeared. He lifted his head and turned to meet your eyes. They too were pink and puffy, and his eyelashes stuck together from the tears coming out.
"Do you ever feel so alone, so abandoned by everyone around you? Do you ever feel like it's impossible for you to be loved, even though you have so much to give? It's detrimental; I feel trapped. I could go on for hours about it, but that would be pointless. No one listens to me anyway."
Without speaking you pulled him in towards you, resting your head on his shoulder, and his on yours.
"Yes" you finally said, eyes closed, trying to hold yourself together. That simple word- filled with so much meaning, confirmation, a reminder that there was someone else, a security blanket that held him so tight. Three letters that gave him relief, but also sadness for you were pulled down too.
And before you knew it, he let out a loud wail; it was full of so much misery, and it rang endlessly in your ears as you recalled the nights you did the same.
His sorrow drenched your clothing. You didn't mind. You let him cry as much as he needed, and you often wondered how long he had been holding everything in. It was comforting, yet unfortunate to have someone who felt the same. It's not something you'd wish on a person, and it was a rarity to find someone willing to pour their heart out to you so shamelessly, but you couldn't quite say it was an honor.
While you were never good with words, you knew saying, "It's going to be okay," or "I'm sorry," would be meaningless to him.
And so you sat there, holding him close, running your fingers through his thick hair, rubbing his back, feeling his warm breath ease on and off your shoulder. He was quieter now, occasionally lifting an arm to wipe his face.
After a while he pulled away and gathered himself. He was still upset, but felt like a nuisance from clinging to you for so long. He gave a smile of grief. His flawless face, glimmering with tears, dazzled in the moonlight. The deep lines in his face showed exhaustion, and the bags under his eyes, defeat. While you were studying his face, his expression changed to one of vacancy.
He refused to look at you. He already knew why you came up here on this night. It was the sad truth that neither had to say out loud, because you both already shared it.
For a while it was silent. Every now and then a sentence or two was exchanged, but that was it. You couldn't think of what to do or say, it was almost embarrassing. He just fell apart in front of you, and all you could do was sit there.
You grinded your teeth together to give yourself something else to focus on. The best thing you could do right now is offer tender affection. You knew he was almost a stranger to it, and right now he desperately needed it. Hugging was nice, yes, but something else could always be better.
You lifted your hand, without thinking, and placed it in his. He flinched at this motion, but eventually relaxed and pushed his fingers through the gaps of yours. His hand was warm, almost clammy, and he rubbed his thumb along the side of your hand, so calm, so gentle, so..afraid. You squeezed it reassuringly, and kept your hand in his. It remained this way for a while, and sometimes he'd edge closer to you, missing the embrace. You pretended not to notice, so you never glanced at him, but suddenly you felt his head resting back onto your shoulder, enjoying your company. You smiled at the thought of that; it was a fragile one, but it was there. You then let go of his hand and placed it around his shoulder; he instinctively fell closer to you, quiet, but grateful as ever. You linked your hands together, and Karamatsu linked his other arm around your waist. His presence was comforting. Though there was little conversation– it was not needed.
While the moon was still raised in the sky, and while the stars were still dotting the night with light, and while the wind gently blew through the trees and through your hair, you realized you were not alone. The glazed look fell from your face, and at that instant, a star, small and dim, flew through the sky, its light fading; its power weakening. You were never one to believe in nonsense such as wishing, but that night you wished for hope.
Just maybe it would work.
Soon after, you again placed your head on top of Karamatsu's, his steady breathing moving his body up and down. You blinked a few times before closing your eyes. You soon drifted off, holding on to each other, holding on to hope.
