Dark Places | S. Tendou

BABY, IT'S JUST ME AND YOU

[This chapter contains descriptions of a panic attack. Please skip if you'd prefer to avoid this type of content, thanks! Again, I do not intend to misrepresent anything!]

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Maeko became distantly aware of the person's presence when they sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of her and, by the time they gently rested a hand on her lower leg and squeezed, there was no longer any feasible way for her to deny that she had company. Regardless, Maeko didn't lift her head from where it was buried into her knees.

Looking at the person meant allowing them to see her like this and, quite frankly, she was already feeling embarrassed enough for one evening. Ushijima and his friends had probably told people what happened. It was perhaps out of worry for her well-being but, even then, it would make it harder for her to show her face in front of all those people with them knowing that she couldn't attend one party, her best friend's party, without getting overwhelmed.

Her struggle to catch her breath was worsened by an onset of choking sobs, muffled by the inner elbow of her arm but not any less loud in her own ears.

"I-I'm s-sorry." She managed between gasps for air. It felt like she was burdening this person who had sat with her and remained there even as she persistently shut them out, trying to deal with her attack on her own.

She didn't yet know how true that description was.

"One." The person said.

Maeko didn't understand at first.

But she thought she might've recognized his voice. It sounded like Tendou, but the seriousness of his tone, so lacking in his usual spark of humour in all things, was disconcerting to her in its unfamiliarity.

"Two."

Maeko started gasping for air in short, hiccup-like intervals, but as soon as it settled down and she managed to take a quick breath, he said: "Three."

She realized he was counting her breaths.

Did she manage three of them already? Before hearing the numbers, Maeko was convinced that it was still zero.

"Four?" She rasped, her throat making a deep, menacing wheeze.

When he counted five for her, Maeko caught a hint of the lightness and humour that she had been talking about before, probably a result of the awkward lilt at the end of her four, making it sound like he needed to confirm that four was, indeed, after three in the line.

That was when she knew it was him.

Maeko couldn't decide on a name for the feeling that stirred in the pit of her stomach. It was difficult to decipher much of anything in her current state but, no matter what it was, she let him count with her well into the twenties until, finally, her breaths felt normal again.

His hand never left her leg. Even when Maeko finally lifted her head off her knees, looking at him through wet, red-rimmed eyes, it was still there.

"How did you know that would help?" Maeko asked.

The question seemed to make Tendou reminiscence about something. "Let's just say that strategy has gotten me out of a bad situation once or twice."

Maeko nodded, knowing better than to pry into personal details that weren't being offered up willingly.

"Well, thank you." Maeko said.

The apology felt stiff and unnatural on the tip of her tongue, but not because it was undeserved—she was just feeling stiff and unnatural altogether. She had been subconsciously playing with the thin straps of her dress ever since she left her house.