hold me close and don't let go

i never could control you

The sun was just rising over the ocean, casting an orange and red glow over the water. It reminded him of the sunsets in New York; how the sun would just barely graze the skyscrapers, as if it were some sort of challenge on who could touch the sky first. Despite the business of the city, Eiji couldn't help but fall in love with it the way Ash did.

It must have been around mid-day back in America. How was Ash doing? Was he handling everything alright? Was Max watching over him or had he moved to Los Angeles to be with Jessica and their son?

He sat in bed for a few minutes, catching his breath. He had woken up roughly, though he wasn't sure from what; a nightmare? The healing wound in his side? New York had spit him back to Japan as if he were a bad seed--battered, bruised and in pain.

As the sun rose higher, Eiji started to get out of bed. He moved slowly as to not hurt himself too much, though there wasn't much he could for the pain he felt in his heart. Nothing could amount to that, honestly. There wasn't even a justifiable reason to be sad he just missed Ash. He missed America. Of course, if he stayed over there, he would feel the same way about Japan, so it was a win-lose situation either way.

Where Eiji's bedroom sat, he was able to look out at the city he grew up in. He could see the water three miles away from his window, which was just above his bed; the door was on the other side of the room, along with a desk and his backpack. On one bedpost at the foot of his bed hung his camera and camera bag. His walls were white, but he had hung fairy lights around to give the place a nice, comfy feel. It was serene. A few posters of music artists and athletes hung on the wall by his desk, but those were the only notable decorations.

He was a minimalist.

Ash was not.

"Eiji! Get ready for school, dear!" His mother called from the base of the stairs. He had totally forgotten that he had to return to school when he came back, and honestly, he wasn't happy about it. He dragged himself out of his room and to the bathroom across the hall from his room for a much needed shower. By the time he got out, he was running late. Too bad he couldn't run to school like he used to.

His mother, thankfully, didn't rush him to eat. She didn't pressure him to tell her what happened in New York, and the way she looked at him was enough pity he would ever need in his life time. She watched him like he was a wounded gazelle.

When he finally left for school--with his backpack and camera bag slung over his shoulder--he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had landed in Haneda airport the day before, at nine p.m. Since then, he had had the heaviest feeling in his heart. He figured it was the fourteen hour flight just weighing down on his body, or the symptoms of his gunshot wound.

School dragged on, but practice dragged on more. He sat by idly under a tree's branches in the yard, sifting through the photos on his camera. Memories flooded back to him, and before he knew it, there were tears pooling in his dark eyes.

Someone sat beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he held back quiet sobs. Ibe pulled the younger boy close to his side, and rubbed his arm soothingly. "I know kid. I know."

____

He made plans to contact Ash when he got home, telling himself it was to help his English skills. It was a shitty excuse to see Ash's face again. What they had was...more than anything he could ever ask for with someone, let alone a boy; he didn't know he was gay until he met Ash, as cliche as that sounds.

He had asked Ibe to contact Max to tell Ash but...something was wrong. Something felt fucking wrong, and Eiji couldn't put his finger on it. He should have been alarmed when Ash didn't show up to the airport that day--he should have been alarmed when he wasn't returning any of Eiji's calls. He should have been alarmed when his heart sank for no fucking reason.

What the hell was happening in New York?

"Ibe-San," he said stoically when the older man picked up the phone. Part of Eiji was screaming endless horrible scenarios at him, the other part completely shut down.

"This isn't a good time, kid, I just got home and-"

"Have you talked to Max?" Japanese felt foreign in Eiji's mouth now. After all that time he had spent trying so fucking hard to learn and speak near perfect English, his mother tongue sounded and felt blocky in his mouth.

"No but if this is about As-"

"Ibe-San, please. I'm begging you to call him right now. Something doesn't feel right."

"Eiji, you haven't felt right since you hurt your foot."

"Just fucking call him, please!"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and Eiji feared that he had pushed his mentor over the edge. Thankfully though, he hadn't.

"Alright, alright. I'll call him now. Calm down while I talk to him."

He couldn't get out his thank you because by now, he had started crying again. How fitting for the situation. Japanese people were always the ones to feel sorry for others, right? Always apologizing first, right? Right? Right?

Eiji didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. Was this what anxiety felt like? Was this just a slice of what Ash felt when his PTSD got bad? Eiji hated it--he couldn't breathe, couldn't clear his mind. He felt like the world around him was closing in, like he was dying again. Why was he crying?

Why was he fretting so much over Ash?

After what seemed like ages, his phone finally buzzed again. He picked it up sloppily, nearly dropping it as he brought it up to his ear. "H-hello? Ibe-San?"

"Eiji...I need you to calm down."

"Is he alright? Tell me he's okay." Ibe's calm tone of voice started to ease Eiji's rattling nerves--though a part of him connected it to Ash, and the way he lied. Part of him related it to the way Shorter took his last breath--calm and afraid.

"Eiji. Max got in touch with Sing-"

"What? Why him? No, I said talk to Ash, not Sin-"

"Will you listen to me, dammit!"

Eiji went silent. He sat on the floor near the side of his bed and waited for whatever it is Ibe was about to say; his brain flooded him with bad scenarios, all the what-ifs that could have happened in the three days Eiji wasn't with Ash. His heart wasn't as forgiving as his brain. Somehow his body knew it before he consciously did. How was that possible? "Ibe-San..."

"The day we left..." He was suddenly back in that hospital in New York, handing his envelope to Sing. He was back in the airport, back on the plane just after take off. Back in the condo he stayed in with Ash. His breathing was getting stricter, his lungs were panicking, his hands were numb, his heart was hurting.

"See um...Sing said, uh.."

"Stop beating around the bush." It was the only solid sentence Eiji could make out before he started to break down.

"Eiji...kid I'm sorry..." Us Japanese are so quick to apologize for others.

He brought his knees to his chest despite how much it hurt to fucking move his body. He took a fucking bullet for Ash and it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. Eiji wasn't mad at Ash--God, he could never be mad at anyone for dying. No, he was mad at himself; Ash was alone. The last thing he wanted to be was alone.

Eiji had taught him how to say goodbye in Japanese. It was just another word in his language, like how "bye" was just another word in English. He was so fucking hung up on this word though. There was something about goodbyes that never got any easier, no matter how many times they were used; no matter how many times they were taken advantage of.

さようなら.

"He's gone, Eiji."