The beeping was getting faster. So was the dripping of his sweat, and yet, his smile was still there.

"Just sing, Kuro."

Why?

"It will be alright. Just sing."

There was a gasp, and a wince, and a significant change in the frequency of the beeps.

Despite this show of human vulnerability, Kuro felt dead, for there was no longer any hope left in him; it had all been beaten out of him.

No.

"Remember that one song? She loved it, didn't she?"

"Sure."

"Don't make that face."

"Sure."

The pained laugh was torture to his ears, weighing both physically and mentally as had been its source.

"It'll be a blessing..."

Don't say it.

"Just to hear you sing again after everything that's happened."

And it stopped.

He didn't call the nurses, nor did he fall to his knees and weep by the pure white sheets of, ironically, light which visits with the kiss of death, and snow which falls on one's soulless vessel.

He stood staring at the lump of flesh and bone and donned his hood, locking the room from the inside then closing it behind him after he'd flown out of the room, his sneakers helping to keep the moment of silence.

A fleeting sense of guilt crossed his mind, yet he'd conditioned himself before. He'd expected it all.

He sighed at his incompetence and swore, on his discarded care and newfound apathy, to stay out for once and for all.

"This is too troublesome, I could die."

"Um," his vision focused in on a pair of warm brown eyes, honest confusion and concern emanating from the very space in them. "Did I say something wrong?"

Kuro stared at the brunette for a good few seconds, eyes narrowing with each one passing. He closed them as he averted his gaze, placing now his chin over the knuckles of a loosely-folded fist. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his gaze fixed on the guitar — still in its locked case — leaning against one side of the wall.

Kuro sighed.

"You just gotta stop doing that."
"... Doing...?"
"Giving me stupid flashbacks with your shonen logic."
"What the hell even is shonen logic?"
"Ask yourself."
Mahiru's eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his forehead, his annoyance getting the better of him. Although Kuro was usually really quiet and tended to be frugal with spending words, he sometimes spoke in terms that weren't exactly as commonplace as takoyaki stands.

He found himself vocalizing this, and the person in question simply looked at him with a sense of unexpected satisfaction. He didn't say anything after that, so Mahiru directed the statement at him once more.

"So... I've learned a lot since I began learning the gui — wait, how do you know I couldn't exactly play before that invitation thing?" he asked, a touch of nervousness upon being too transparent marring his casual curiosity. He put the broom aside and fixed his kneeling position, folding his arms together over the edge of the bed, and his cheek over one of them. The pale individual's irises flicked over to his direction, although they immediately went back to the guitar. Due to this, Mahiru's own gaze was casted along, and now they were both looking at the covered instrument; the place where it all began.

"Well... you did say you didn't know shit—"
"Language."
"Yes mom, sure — about all the music stuff prior to our concert. So I guessed you weren't exactly..." Kuro's statement trailed off into a yawn, and he waved his free hand around in random circles, as if to complete the sentence for him. Mahiru looked stupefied for a good moment before he finally managed to recall, and, connect the dots.

He couldn't help himself from smiling. After all this time, and although he'd been the one to start isolating himself, Kuro still remembered everything that had transpired in their abruptly-cut friendship. As the latter passed a hand over his eyes, Mahiru rose and walked over to his instrument. It wasn't the most expensive guitar, but for a sort of beginner like himself, it had done the job for more than a season. He'd began to advance without Sakuya's help, tackling plucking, then riffs — this one on his bargain-bought electric guitar.

Besides the fact that he frequently got absorbed in learning new things on his instrument, he also wanted to show his friend how far he'd come, and how far he'd advanced he wouldn't have been able to reach without Sakuya's help and patience. He made a mental note to treat the fellow one time to a meal, perhaps. He would surely be interested in talking about this incident over their food. He'd cause a ruckus, most likely, but that's part of what makes him a good listener.

Mahiru's fingers worked on the zipper, lock discarded beside him. No sooner than he'd gripped the neck of the acoustic did a voice call out from behind him.

"Ah, actually..." Kuro now looked somewhat guilty for not speaking up sooner. Either that, or he was bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions that people were extremely fond of hitting him with, after he would tell them the exact same words that were now rolling out his tongue.

"Actually, I, sort of — kinda, well, entirely? — stopped singing."

"There we go," he thought. "Bring on the interview."

He was already trying to come up with replies for predictable questions in order to save himself the trouble of on-the-spot articulation as Mahiru froze, his grip on his guitar neither relaxing nor tightening. He seemed only to need a significant amount of time to register the information before he zipped the case back up and turned to the other.

Instead of shock or disappointment, there was a balance of neutrality and regret on his face. The latter emotion, though, was probably not for himself but for the brilliant stage he'd seen last year, which had propelled him to grasp a passion of his own. Kuro was admittedly surprised. He, though, shook all thoughts of folly from his head and let himself fall to the bed entirely.

"So, yeah," he concluded, a slight drawl on 'so'. "That's why I told you to leave while it was early. Thanks for cleaning my apartment, though. Cheers."

"Is that so? Well, you don't seem to me like the type to just abandon a part of yourself like that. So there must be a very good reason." the voice got closer.

Kuro turned over to his side, pulling the blanket over his shoulders as if to show how unwilling he was to further entertain a guest.
"Part of myself? Man, you don't even know me. Like I said, there's no point in staying here any longer. I can no longer do what I used to do. Period."
"Well..." Mahiru said, "Maybe you're — okay, you're right, I don't exactly know you as much as your friends from highschool know you, or your parents maybe, so just scrap that. But something tells me it wasn't a nonchalant decision, Kuro."
"Nonchalant? Wow, big word."

Mahiru continued as if he didn't hear anything. "But I did come here looking for answers. And I sorta need to hear some from you. So could we talk for now, then?"
Kuro groaned in annoyance, maybe a half-feint of emotion, and he covered his head completely with the blanket.
"Too troublesome."
"Wha — it's not!"
"Not for you, maybe. But for me, yes."
"So you won't talk to me?"

There was something in his tone of voice that seemed to be so crestfallen, as if he believed his actions would help not himself but the other party, and that he was disappointed at his incapability to help.

"It's..." Kuro exhaled heavily, and he felt as if all his remaining chances at happiness — if any — had escaped his hollow soul by all this sighing and talking. "Seriously, why are you kids this stubborn?"
"Kids? We're not that far apart. Besides, I'm not being stubborn. I just... feel like you're really lonely. I'm trying to help."
"I don't need your therapy, sister."

"Kuro, could you please face me and answer me properly?"
"No, mom. I'm an independent edgy child."
"Kuro, if you're not going to — "

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of a stomach growling, its hungry protests seeming to freeze the air in the room, which had been beginning to heat up only moments ago. Mahiru immediately recoiled, embarrassment dusting his skin with a strong pigment of red. Kuro looked at him, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I guess you were up all night fangirling over having acquired intel on my headquarters. You skipped over breakfast to the train station."
"How did you — wait, no, that's not what happened at all!" the brunette protested, waving his arms wildly around him. "I just got hungry from all that cleaning!"

Kuro sat up, looking as if every movement made his joints pop, then walked over to Mahiru. They stood toe to toe for a little more than a few seconds — the red-eyed individual standing at full height — before Kuro slipped his hand into the pocket of the shorter male's jacket. He pulled out from there the key to his apartment and proceeded to the door with his characteristic slouching.

"Just saying, but I only open my mouth infront of food." he was already out the door when Mahiru came rushing after him, closing the door behind himself and leaving his instrument to sit in the dark of an empty home.

DONE. FINALLY. i haven't written last week at all, but here's my update for this sunday. wish me luck, we've got training tomorrow again :''') aye, hope you enjoyed this chapter~