Silence | Book 1

3-10: Found

An instinctual protectiveness spurred Tristan to chase after the thief that stole Hibiki's phone. Not many things upset him, but the prospect of someone he cared for being slighted enraged him on a level he couldn't quite explain himself. He dodged and weaved through the people on the sidewalk, in an attempt to keep up. He wasn't nearly fast enough. Anger alone wasn't enough to overcome his own body.

Soon the sprint caught up on him, leaving him out of breath and aching. It was enough to pull him out of his spell, and it was in that very moment that he lost sight of the thief. Perhaps he dove into an alley, or vanished amongst all the other unknown faces – but there was no trace to be found. Damp, dizzy and empty handed, Tristan gave up on catching the man altogether.

"Shite." He muttered to himself as he doubled over and took a few sharp inhales of cold air. He resigned himself to the fact that his frankly stupid chase hadn't made things any better. With a deep sigh he straightened his back out again and ran his fingers through his now wet hair.

He had dashed only a few streets away from where they'd been, but had to make the walk of shame back. His suit had pinched uncomfortably at the seams even before he started chasing, but it had only served to chafe him during – not that his feet were faring any better in dress shoes. The sweat that was the worst however, and if he had already been damp from the weather, this only made it a hundred times more uncomfortable. When the hot flash of his exercise faded, he felt cold and clammy.

That discomfort faded instantly when he spotted Hibiki. He was exactly where he had left him, but deadly pale, wide eyed and surrounded by a few people that seemed uncertain what to do with him. Worried, he darted over, realising a little too late that this had to be frightening for someone who always travelled with their own security detail.

"Hibiki?" He asked once he pushed aside the people that were looking on, but his question got no response. Instead Hibiki backed away from him and raised his hands defensively. Now he was so close he could see how lost he was in fear, and it made his heart sink: he was shaking uncontrollably, staring off into a far away nothing as if his entire personality had been stripped away.

"Hibiki?" He asked again, the worry breaking his voice now. No response. Not sure what to do, but certain that he couldn't leave Hibiki like this, he reached his hand out to whisk him away to someplace where nobody would be looking at them. The moment his hand touched him, even just a soft tap of his fingertips, he let out a blood curdling scream.

The sound made him jump back; it was primal, frightened, the cry of someone truly convinced that they were about to die; the sound of suffering violently tearing it's way out of a soul. He'd heard screams before, of anger and of pain, but never one so hopelessly desperate. To hear it come from someone he cared for felt like a stab through the heart, and he knew that was still nothing compared to what Hibiki had to feel.

Before he could respond, Hibiki scrambled and ran off at full speed. His anger had been enough to give chase to a common thief – his concern for Hibiki would make him sprint to the very end of the world if he had to. He didn't care about anything else, knowing that if he lost Hibiki here there was no way he would find him.

So he ran, and ran, even when it chafed and ached and hurt. Even when he saw lights dance in front of his eyes and felt his stomach ache. Until at long last Hibiki dove into a narrow alleyway and hid in a nook between a wall and some scaffolding.

Tristan watched helplessly and out of breath as he leant against the opposite wall, his legs weak and wobbly. While doubled over and panting heavily, he could only watch as Hibiki wrapped his arms around his knees and slowly began to rock himself, in a repeated, desperate motion. He felt his heart break from the sight, even if he had no idea what was going on anymore.