red ; saimota

one.

it's 3:03am.

or, at least, that's what saihara's roommate tells him as he bursts into his room at the sound of saihara awaking from yet another recollection of him.

"a...mami?" saihara groans, his vision somewhat hazy as the green-haired boy perches on the side of his bed, brushing saihara's dark hair out of his eyes, and away from his sweat-drenched forehead.

amami nods and lets out a soft sigh. "it... was him, wasn't it? your dream?" he breathes.

tearing his gaze off of amami, saihara stares instead at the wall to his right, unresponsive. almost instantly, amami realises he's correct.

"you... can talk to me about him, saihara. if you want," amami suggests tentatively.

gradually, his eyes flutter back to the pierced boy, whose face is only visible by the slight trickle of moonlight highlighting it. "i'm sorry for never talking about... about it," he murmurs, shifting on his bed.

amami shakes his head and stares a little more deeply into saihara's eyes. "it's okay, shu. i understand."

shu.

saihara almost chokes, shaking his head viciously. "d-don't call me that. please."

"but... i've been calling you that for months-"

"please!"

amami's eyes widen at the sudden outburst. "okay! i'm sorry," he choked out.

although, saihara hardly heard him. everything reminded him of... kaito.

"c'mon, shu! it's a big city, there's so much to see!" kaito's laughter was loud and drew so much attention to them, and yet, for the first time, saihara didn't care.

he didn't care that people's eyes were constantly darting between the pair of them... actually, maybe it was due to their joined hands.

beaming, kaito suddenly stopped dead, causing saihara to almost topple over. "y'know what? the only thing i actually wanna see is you, though."

"saihara?!"

it acts as a sudden jolt back to reality. a shove back into the realisation that kaito isn't beside him, and that he should be glad for that. "w-what..?" he choked out.

amami hesitates for a moment. his jade eyes flicker over saihara's face; his rapidly heaving chest and his fists, clenched tightly around his crinkled bedsheets. "you should talk about if. i don't care who to; just please."

those words startle saihara somewhat. is he really ready for that? to open up to every last crevice of his time with kaito? for a moment, he just stares at amami with bewildered eyes, but before amami can apologise for the proposition, he speaks up. "i want to tell you."

"...me?" amami clarifies, surprised. saihara nods. "if... if it gets it off your chest, that's good enough. so tell me, saihara. tell me where it all began, and whatever else is necessary."

and so, saihara began.