[ a/n ugh the gifs aren't working for some reason,,, bear with me please ] 

⊱ ───────── ⊰

GOKANA AND I ARE GOOD AT PRETENDING.

it's been a month after that incident on the rooftop, and we continue to pretend that everything is fine with our friendship. we have pretended that we never had that argument that slowly started to burn up our friendship.

i have begun to realize that our friendship is weak, only held together by the several years we've known each other. 

[but of course, i pretend not to know that. and i know she does the same.]

we are both extremely good at pretending and lying to ourselves and each other. perhaps we've been doing it so often lately that it's become second nature. i lie to her and says that the darkness is my crown. she lies to me and says that i'm her best friend. 

we are spinning and crafting an endless web of lies that we will eventually be caged in.

[but of course, we pretend not to know that.]

so that's why, on gokana's birthday today, i am heading home instead of heading to her massive birthday bash, on the excuse that i don't like crowded places. i was planning to go to fukurodani's volleyball practice to watch akaashi and bokuto and talk to kaori and yukie, but those four apparently ditched practice for the party (i assume bokuto dragged akaashi to go). 

i glance up, tearing my eyes away from the pavement on the floor and instead looking at the big house down the corner, bursting with people and laughter. before i can decide how i feel about this, my phone vibrates.

a ghost of a smile rests on my lips as i pick up the phone. while my friendship with gokana has begun to fade over the past month, my friendship with the mysterious caller has done the opposite.

but even though he's the person i've been talking to the most in the past month, i still do not know his name. not even the sport which he loves so much. yet i know his deepest fears, his desperate hope and his determination. 

it is the same with me. he doesn't know my name, my school or anything about me. and unlike how i know about his troubles, he does not know about mine. 

[i don't want to burden him with them.]

he's the first person in a while who actually wants me to talk to them, and i...i don't want him to leave me alone like gokana did because of the darkness. 

"hello? kichona?"

i frown, realizing that it was not the mysterious person who had called. "hajime?"

"yeah, it's me," hajime says. "try not to sound too disappointed."

my mouth twitches into a slight smile and i push open the gate to my house, entering into my garden with blooming flowers that seem so fragile that if i touched them, they would fade away. "anyways, why'd you call? aren't you supposed to be at volleyball practice right now?"

"i am," he admits. "but our captain went off somewhere, so practice has halted right now. we just received some news. about the inter-preliminary tournament. the date has been set for two weeks from now, and the match-ups have also been set."

"not to be rude," i began, walking into my house and slipping off my shoes. "but where do i come into this?"

"i want to invite you to watch me," hajime says. "it's one of my last high school volleyball tournaments. come to miyagi for two weeks."

i frown, sitting down on my bed. "two weeks? your tournament only lasts for three days at the most."

"i know," haijme sighs. "but my parents want you to stay over a bit longer because they think your mother...never mind."

 i know what he was going to say. his parents think that my mother isn't capable of taking care of me. my aunt and uncle want to check in on me, because frankly, they don't think that my mother cares about me.

[and they're right. my mother doesn't care about me, no matter how many she said otherwise during my childhood.] 

"just come," hajime pressed. "you know how my mum will worry over you."

i think about my aunt. we aren't close. my mother moved to tokyo to get away from her sister and discouraged me from talking to their family. but even so, i think of my aunt as my mother more than my actual one will ever be. 

i reconsider hajime's offer.

it beats living with mother and school with gokana.

"alright, i'll come," i let in. 

"thank you," hajime says softly before hanging up. i stare at the black screen of my phone, wondering if the mysterious person would call. all of the time he's called me its on the occasion that his fears had consumed again and lead him to break down. 

so i feel bad for wanting him to call me, for wanting to talk to him, for wanting him to need me. i hover my finger above his number, contemplating whether to call him just for a normal conversation. 

but then my screen starts flashing with his number and i almost smile. i halt the motion, remembering that he's most likely having a panic attack in the school bathroom.

and i was right. when i picked up, the first thing i heard as gasps as he struggled to breathe in between sobs. 

"breathe deeply," i recall from researching ways to stop a panic attack in order to help him. "find a focus object. picture your happy place."

i'm not sure whether my voice sounds soothing or commanding to him, so i stop talking in fear that i would make it worse. but after a minute, the panic attack slows and halts. he sniffles. "thanks for the advice, emo-chan."

'emo-chan' has been my nickname ever since we started talking, because apparently i sound emo and dead inside. i'm not sure how i feel about the nickname, but i didn't tell him to stop because i had a feeling he wouldn't listen to me.

this nickname almost makes me smile again, but i remember the situation and clear my throat. "don't worry about it. do you...want to tell me what happen?"

there is silence for a while as he hesitates, and i can hear the birds fluttering from tree to tree outside. 

"you know what?" he says abruptly. "i think i'll be fine. i need to get back to practice now, anyways. sorry for cutting the conversation short. bye emo-chan!"

before i can get a word in, he hangs up and the screen of my phone turns black yet again. i stare at it. 

he is obviously not fine.

i try calling him again, but the number is unavailable so i assume he's muted it in an effort to not revive the conversation again. 

i'm making a mental note about this conversation so i won't be insensitive on the next conversation when i realize something.

this is the first time in a while that i've cared for somebody this much.

and i hope that he feels the same way. 

⊱ ───────── ⊰

when i leave my house for the school, i see gokana and her friends in the distance. they're chattering as they leave her house, so i'm guessing that they slept over. not that smart, considering it was a school night. but gokana doesn't care for my opinion anymore, so there's no point in telling her that. 

she turns back to make eye-contact with me, her blond hair swishing. i avoid her gaze, instead glancing up to the building besides me; the church. it radiates a specific type of energy that makes me feel inferior. 

[i am.]

i walk to the graveyard, and enter this time. as usual, spirits howl but i will for them to be silent and they immediately obey the command. i stop besides my father's grave, his name written in gold letters that are slowly fading away and being engulfed by the marble stone.

i hear his voice. it's distorted and angry, but it's his nonetheless. 

"i can see you're hoping that someone will care for you," he seethes before letting out a fierce laugh. "did you forget? that nobody cares for you?"

this is the first time in a while that i've cared for somebody. 

but then i remember.

that just like those previous times, he probably doesn't care about me at all.

⊱ ───────── ⊰

"wakara-san."

i blink up from my phone to see my aged math teacher glaring down at me. usually i'm not one to be distracted by technology, but i can't seem to forget the conversation with the mysterious caller. i'm waiting for the next time he calls me, and i promise to myself that i'll make sure he doesn't have a panic attack like that again. 

"wakara-san."

i realize that my teacher is still waiting on me. i glance back down to my phone.

"the answer is thirty two," i answer, referring to the problem on the board.

she sighs. "you might have the brains already, but it's important to concentrate in class."

just after that my phone vibrates, lighting up with a call from the mysterious caller. i stand up, brushing aside the teacher, "excuse me, i need to take this."

 out of the corner of my eye i can see my classmates, including gokana, shift uncomfortably in their seat, exchange glances with each other. 

"young lady, come back here," the teacher raises her voice, her chin flying up. "y-you can't leave this classroom as you please."

noticing the wobble in her voice, i smirk slightly.

"it's urgent," i sigh irritably. "and yes, i can."

i shoot her a glare, raising my own chin, before leaving the classroom and heading for the rooftops. she scoffs but doesn't bother to come after me. my smirk widens at that. 

the skies were almost vacant; only one cloud drifting in the distance, the strong wind gently pushing it along. eyes locked onto the cloud, i sit on the floor and answer the call. "hey."

"hey," he responds. my shoulders relax, glad that he's not having a panic attack again.

 "you feeling better?"

"i told you, i'll be fine," he assures me, but i know those lies all too well. "i'm just calling because..."

he trails off in hesitation, and i patiently wait, still following the lone cloud. he clears his throat. "d-do you find me annoying?"

"no," i reply truthfully. "what makes you think that?"

 "i'm just always calling you, ranting, complaining," he lists. "i...just don't want to be too annoying. that's why i ended the conversation so quickly yesterday. i'm sorry about that, by the way. and...i'm also sorry if i'm too whiny."

"you don't have to apologize," i say. "i don't mind listening to you rant."

[it makes me feel like i'm wanted. it tricks me to believe that i have a purpose to walk this planet.]

i can hear him sigh, audibly relieved. "oh, okay. well, if you don't mind, can i talk to you for a bit of what happen yesterday?"

"go for it."

"so," he begins. "the date for the first tournament my team has entered in settled. same with the match schedules."

this piece of information sounds vaguely familiar, and it doesn't take me more than a second to figure out where i had heard it from before - hajime. for a brief moment, i wonder if the mysterious caller plays volleyball like hajime. 

"and after hearing that..." he trails off again, and i can hear a rustling sound, as if he's running his hand through his hair. "i just...kinda broke down. memories kept on flashing. from middle, junior high and high school. and i-i just got swallowed up by the idea of those moments repeating yet again, even after everything i've put in. it's alright if you don't understand what i mean."

"no, no," i murmur, my eyes finally falling to the ground. "i understand what you mean all too well." 

that piques his interest. "emo-chan? are you alright?"

again, i nearly smile at that nickname. it's the damn nickname that makes me seem so harmless, so innocent. it spurs a feeling of warmth, reminding me of the days when i wasn't associated with darkness and monstrous qualities. 

i shake that feeling from my body; it is foolish and it is naïve.

"i'll be fine," i say shortly.   

"so what're you feeling now?" he asks, obviously not missing the future tense. 

i scoff. "you don't have to pretend like you care about me."

"but i do," he says, mildly surprised. when i remain silent, he continues. "emo-chan, you've been supporting me through my darkest times. not even my best friend knows about all of this stuff.  and even though you might be on the other side of japan, you didn't let that stop you. you...your words have made me believe in myself. so don't you dare think that i don't care about you. how could i not?"

my breath hitches. it is silent as i process the flood of words, the little doses of comfort we have been giving to each other.

the wind brushes against my skirt, tangling itself in my hair, and i realize that the cloud is nearly gone. it's just me, the wind and him.

i don't bother to stop the steady flow of tears. instead, i grip my phone tighter as if it's his hand.

[i've always been told i'm intelligent. i don't believe that anymore, because despite the several others that have come before this mysterious person, each one betraying me and stabbing me in a spot i hadn't expected, i can feel it.]

i can feel myself trusting him.

it's so stupid. i don't know how he looks like. i don't even know his name. all i know are his deepest secrets. and it's so stupid because we've only known each other for a month.

but perhaps i am the stupid one, because i can feel myself freefalling into that feeling of trust.