Afraid of the Dark

sequel to Insomnia

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The dry grass rustled lightly in the night breeze, the streets now insensate and dark. Dim streetlights illuminated the surroundings, and he was sole out there.

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Worry haunted his features, painful anxiety evident in his misty eyes. He looked far and out, searching with great impatience. But he was only met with grey emptiness. Restraining surges of mental exhaustion, he pushed back those unruly strands of hair carelessly, waiting endlessly. Feeling weariness overtaking his vigilance, he sat back against the cold park bench.

“Why am I doing this anyway?” Seiji muttered to himself in derisive scorn. Humming a song he heard this morning over the radio, he rested his chin on his hand. Contemplating nothing in particular, he jumped, startled, as something heavy landed on his shoulder.

“Hey.”

He scowled, brushing off the offensive hand. Putting on a frown that deemed no jokes, he tugged at the other’s shirt tie, pulling the other forward. “You are late.”

“I know.” There was no denial and only dreary sorrow in the latecomer’s tone.

“So what did you ask me out for?” Seiji asked hesitatingly, even though he already knew.

“Saki is fading. He’s still badly affected since Kei jumped off that ledge.” The bitter edginess was evident in Hiroya‘s voice. There was a split second of silence, before Seiji broke out in ringing hollow laughter. “I don’t see what you can make up of this mess.” Hiroya smirked faintly, scrutinizing the lackluster sky. Scraping his scornful laughter abruptly, Seiji snapped testily, “I don’t give a damn.”

He winced unwittingly as a chilling waft swept mercilessly through him. A strong arm tugged him close towards a warm body, a shelter to his icy exterior and a sought comfort to his vacant mind. A short period of silence fulfilled the snug and secure embrace. Nevertheless, out of the blue, sobs racked through him as Seiji surrendered the fight, shedding his tears on Hiroya’s steady shoulders.

“I hate Kei. Why is he doing this to me? Even after he’s dead. I can’t stand this agony,” he whispered angrily, his fingers digging through the thin fabric of Hiroya’s grey shirt. “I’m sorry Saki doesn’t love you.” Hiroya stated frankly, his eyes prying up into the hours of darkness. “I hate him.” It was a sober statement that withheld regret, disillusionment and untruth. Hiroya understood. And so did Seiji himself.

Several moments of stillness wavered in the wind. Seiji clutched to Hiroya, pleading for his presence, shying away from solitude. “Why don’t you pay Saki a visit?” Hiroya voiced calmly. Seiji’s eyes glinted for a trice before he shoved Hiroya away heatedly, “Damn it. You just can’t get off that matter, can you?”

Sharp eyes penetrated Seiji like a dagger through his heart. Raising his hands in deferential surrender, Seiji’s eyes spelled barrenness. A surge of acid contempt filled Hiroya as he regarded the slender man in front of him. He saw a sorry figure, a broken frame, with nothing left but its shadow. Resentment towards himself, Seiji, Saki and the departed Kei plagued him like spiky icicles.

“Saki is suffering from Kei’s suicide. He probably needs you.” Hiroya muttered quietly.

“When did he ever need me? He had never asked for me. He wouldn’t be able to find anyone to replace Kei. Why should I even try?” He paused fleetingly. ”Do you care about me, Hiroya?” a note of nervousness quavered in Seiji’s voice.

“Yes.” I can’t lie, can I, Seiji? I wouldn’t ever lie to you.

“Then kiss me.” Seiji’s cold lips melded against Hiroya’s, touching and arousing the other’s senses. “Tell me how to resist you, Seiji.” Hiroya growled inwardly, instinctively allowing Seiji to deepen his intrusion into the warm canvass of his mouth. Déjà vu.

Seiji’s tongue flickered on Hiroya’s lips enticingly.

When will I learn to push you away?

His hand caressed Hiroya’s nape punishingly.

Do you still love Saki? Yes. Don’t deceive yourself.

Yet Seiji was too immersed in his frantic search for comfort.

Do you know I am here?

Hiroya shoved Seiji away and wiped his lips delicately with two long fingers.

It’s not that I don’t want you. But you don’t want me. Not me. Even if I do love you so.

Seiji shrugged nonchalantly. Wrapped up in self-pity and animosity, he was anesthetized as well. Numb from being crushed and rejected, he became another master of manipulation. Thus Hiroya was the real victim, a fool who made his own choice to be maltreated.

And it gave nothing but duskiness for him.

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Two streets away, in an unfeeling block of apartments, a man huddled in a corner of a bright room. Though through his sight, everything was just shades of blue or purple.

“Kei.” His eyes were dry, a dirge occupying his mind. “You’re too cruel.”

And indeed, Kei was malicious. A self-longed-for passing that weaved a complex and intricate web of anguish for three lingering individuals who remained blinded by selfishness.

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The dry grass rustled lightly in the night breeze, the streets now insensate and dark. Dim streetlights illuminated the surroundings, and there was no one in the twilight.

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