disclaimer: i do not own PoT.
Interlude III: Sleepless Night
People came and went, dropping in to visit every now and then. It was nice, in a strange bitter way, that he'd actually made this many friends without meaning to, and yet not make enough effort to make the truly special person want to come visit even once; the first part was the nice part, and the second the bitter part.
This must be what he feels like, he thought as he tossed and turned in bed due to the fever burning his sleep away, lying in that cold cell all alone, waiting for him to come day after day… and to know, one fine day, that he isn't going to come anymore.
And he wondered how he'd managed to live, from day to day, living in that place which stank of death and illness and doubtful tomorrows, remembering what his body used to be and might possibly never be again, meeting and smiling at people who were just like what he used to be and would continue to remain so while he wasted away all alone. And in sudden lucidity he realized just how strong and brave his best friend was.
Sleepless nights, it seemed, were sanctuary to one's wildest thoughts.
Jumbled images of the two of them, together, jarred through his mind, blurring the boundaries of dreams and consciousness. The first time those bright green eyes met his and remembered him not as one third of the Troika, but as Yanagi Renji; the first time they'd talked and the fire was directed at him as he announced that if he were to beat the three of them one by one, he'd beat him first; the first time they'd walked home together talking about training menus and parted at the crossroads and smiled at each other; the first time he'd realized that he wanted to hold onto his hand and show him the proper grip, not just telling him; the first time he'd actually touched him, only to find that he had minded it at all; the first time they'd kissed, and he'd wanted another and he knew and beat him to it, and everything else stopped mattering anymore…
And suddenly it all seemed like a horrible nightmare to him, one that he couldn't wake up from… Suddenly he could no longer remember how it all started. A quarrel? A misunderstanding? Something big, something small, or… something trivial?
Oh right; it started because he'd wanted to spend a Sunday afternoon with his buchou and he was too jealous when he found out to allow him to explain… No, not really. It started because he' heard rumours and his jealousy had made him jump to the easiest conclusion possible and…
And…
… and he wasn't being fair.
He was being jealous.
Possessive.
And selfish. Selfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfishselfish…
He could feel it, the fear. Fear, roiling in the pit of his stomach, churning in time with the throbbing fever, making him huddle in his own shell and not see beyond. Fear, of losing because he wasn't enough, of losing because he wasn't seeing enough, of losing because he wasn't doing enough…
And losing all the more because he wasn't strong enough to face his fear.
Like a parasite that couldn't bee seen, feeding off him, gnawing at him, growing and growing all the while…
He was a coward.
Pushing him away just because he wasn't nearly strong enough and wishing that he'd come and visit and tell him that everything was fine and that he loved him still…
…
Dream on dream, and thought on thought… piling one on one, until there was no telling them apart anymore.
…
Then the fever broke, in two days' time, all he was left with were the ghosts of feversih dreams, which were ghosts themselves to begin with.
Everyone was glad to have him back on the team in time for the invitational match. Not that they couldn't have won without him though; in fact they could have won effortlessly even if they had sent out a team of half-trained freshmen. They were Rikkaidai, after all.
But it was nice, in a strangely sour way, to pretend everything was alright in front of everybody else, when it had all turned to dust on the inside.
Pretension is an all-empowering tool.
And besides, there was no room for wild thoughts and crazy ideas when you were on the court. This was real life, and there were rules you had to abide by.
Save those thoughts for nights when sleep was hard to come by.
A/N: Another chapter in progress.