Sing For Me, Darling

Chapter 7 - Bolero

"Noriaki? What in the blazes are you doing out here, boy? Don't you know what time it is?"

Kakyoin vaguely recognized the person who had approached as one of the older women of the village, who was particularly infamous for being extremely nosy. Her voice was raspy and somewhat grating on his ears, and the fact that she used his first name annoyed him quite a bit.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came here to clear my thoughts a bit." he said, twiddling his thumbs.

"In your pajamas, with no shoes?"

He had completely forgotten about this detail, which caused most of his lie to fall apart almost instantly. He scrambled to think of an explanation to squash any potential suspicion.

"Yes, actually. The breeze helps me relax."

"You've always been an odd one, so I'm not surprised. But who was that other person that was with you?"

"Other person? You must be mistaken. It's just me out here."

"...Are you sure? I'm certain I saw someone with you..."

"That's odd, seeing as I've been out here by myself this entire time."

"B-but..."

"Whatever you saw, it must have been a trick of the light, I assure you."

If there was one thing that Kakyoin prided himself in, it was his ability to sweet talk and swindle his way to what he wanted. He was confident in his ability, and sure enough, the woman had completely fallen for it.

"...If you say so. Sorry for being so leery, but we've all been, as of late. I trust you've heard the rumors going around, haven't you?"

"I have, and I don't believe a word of them. Sirens are nothing more than an old sailor's tale."

She cackled at this, and clapped a hand onto his shoulder, annoying him further.

"It'd do you well to lighten up a bit, sweetie. But I'll leave you alone, for now. Don't catch a cold out here. It'd be a shame for such a nice boy like you to be bedridden."

"Thank you for your well wishes, ma'am."

As she walked away, Kakyoin let out a sigh through clenched teeth. Something told him that the woman would end up gossiping about this encounter, which would put Jotaro in more danger, which is the exact opposite of what he wanted. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. He cursed at himself for being such an idiot. None of this would have happened if he hadn't been a prideful bastard. He frustratedly ran his hands through his hair and had to resist the urge to cry out in anger. He was worried, unbearably so, but the regret that was eating away at him was slowly overpowering his nervousness, replacing it with a much more sinister feeling: anxiousness. It gnawed at him, leaving a shallow pit in his stomach and whispers of negativity in his thoughts. He thought back to the painting sitting in his living room in an attempt to banish them, but that only made him think of how much it's subject meant to Jotaro, which in turn reminded him of his many, many, mistakes. The tears from earlier had returned, spilling over his lashes and splattering on the rocks below. He couldn't stop himself, but even if he could have, be wouldn't want to stop himself. He knew full well that he was an embarassing sight to behold, but he supposed that this was a sort of penance, something to atone for the pain he had put Jotaro through.

"Hello? Are you... Are you still there?" an all too familiar voice asked.

Kakyoin looked around wildly, but there was no one around to pose the question.

"Kakyoin...?" It asked again. "Are you...? Ugh, forge–"

"I'm here."

Kakyoin didn't know what possessed him to respond. He thought the voice was someone he knew, but he couldn't be certain, as that particular someone wanted absolutely nothing to do with him at the moment. There was a beat of quiet, and Jotaro reluctantly peeked his head out of the water. He looked around darkly for a moment, but relaxed his gaze a bit as he saw Kakyoin sitting there alone.

"Listen," Jotaro said as he swam closer. "I don't know why you pushed me like that, but something tells me that you were trying to protect me from someone, and I can't not respond to that positively, even in spite of my personal shit with you right now, because that's rude, so in short—"

"You don't have to thank me." Kakyoin responded with a wave of his hand. "I should have been doing that from the beginning."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not verbally thanking you. I'm... Uh... Just take this, alright?!"

The siren shoved a purple object into Kakyoin's lap and folded his arms with a blush-streaked sneer.

"But that doesn't mean that I've completely forgiven you, so don't get your hopes up. It's a courtesy thing, nothing more, nothing less."

Kakyoin simply smiled and turned it  over in his hands. It was a quite sizeable conch shell, its deep purple surface smooth and swirled with curling ribbons of lavender, and rugged edges that tugged at the threads of his sleeves. He ran a thumb down one of the least sharp looking edges, marveling at how even it felt smooth in its own right.

"It's beautiful." he said airily. "Thank you, Jotaro."

"Tch. It's just a shell. There's so many on the beach that you can barely walk three steps without stepping on one."

"But this one is unique. And humongous. It's nothing like those common ones, and it's also from you, which is a plus."

Though he wasn't looking directly at him, Kakyoin could tell Jotaro was slightly flustered, which made him grin slightly. He knew that the siren wasn't too upset with him anymore, which filled him with relief. It also served to dispel some of the dark thoughts plaguing his mind, which in turn made him smile more.

"Don't grin like that." Jotaro said indignantly. "It's kinda freaking me out."

"I'm sorry. This..." he paused to carefully string together his words. "It... made me really happy, to say the least, so I couldn't help myself."

"To each his own, I guess. Go home. It's late and you need all the sleep you can get."

Kakyoin didn't have to be told twice. His eyelids were batting heavily, and he let out a huge yawn.

"Good night, Jotaro." he said as he stood.

"...Good night, Kakyoin." the siren responded, biting his lip.

They both parted ways, each reveling in a happiness of their own.