He felt drowsy, groggy. Nauseous, even, from his inability to rest or relax. His possessions— Toya's book, his phone, his headphones— were spread out across his bed, surrounding his sprawled out body. His brain seemed to be addicted to the idea of taking away his sleep, more so than it was to squid, to his writer. To leave him unnecessarily tense, taking any opportunity to make him even more miserable, even if it were during moments that were supposed to be beautiful marks in his memories. Frustrating, it was.
What was more annoying than his sleep deprivation, though, was his sudden focus on the lyrics he had begun. That gnawing sensation, the way it seemed desperate to bite at him and his clouded mind, the need to continue writing lyrics despite his body being too exhausted to do so. Motivation.
The taste of it, that unbearable burn, left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, too strong for him to enjoy. Back then, back before he moved away, he was certain he would've ridden that wave until it faded into normalcy, but now he only wanted to sleep. Now, he only wanted to lay down and remain a limp body forever, for an eternity. It's not like he was that far away from becoming that, anyways.
He wondered momentarily on what to do, what he was supposed to try. Writing lyrics— writing in general, at that— seemed to much of a bore to his burnt out mind, to try to improve at anything. Practicing felt too strenuous, getting up and doing anything productive, even changing out of his regular clothes, seemed like a far bigger task than it truly was. Everything had become far more difficult over the past few months, years, even, yet he hadn't paid any attention to it. He didn't even acknowledge the rabbit hole he had fallen into until he hit the bottom, he would continue to deny that he had fallen into such a shameful state. He was supposed to be the reliable figure, after all. It's what he had become accustomed to, back when he was just an editor with a particularly weak voice.
...
He reached out for his phone, blindly grabbing at any spot it could've been; he wasn't sure where exactly he put it, nor was he sure why he went for it at the idea of his past years, his prime. It was embarrassing, almost, that he'd be willing to do that, to message Toya.
He hurriedly typed in the numbers that had managed to ingrain themselves into his head, praying that he was online. He didn't want to fall asleep and wake up to nothing, and the prospect of the blue haired boy waking up to him, out of everything, wasn't all that appealing to him. The act of making him uncomfortable.
——————————
akito.s
yo
sorry if this is sudden
are you on
???
Hm?
Who are you?
Oh
Akito?
akito.s
yeah
mb i know its late
wait why are you awake
???
I'm writing.
Shouldn't you be asleep as well? If you're implying I should be sleeping.
akito.s
oh
cool
i cant sleep lmao
???
Oh
Is something bugging you?
akito.s
no
i struggle with sleeping
nyways isnt that bad for your health or some shit
???
???
Are you talking about my health issues?
akito.s
yes dumbass
???
Ah.
I'll be fine, don't worry.
I've gotten better.
akito.s
oh
you should still sleep though
???
I will soon.
I'm nowhere close enough to finishing this chapter to sleep now. Thank you for your concern though. :)
akito.s
ok
goodnight then
sorry
???
It's fine.
How've your song lyrics been going, by the way?
——————————
Akito stared at the words, the gray blending into the white in his blurry sight. He sighed, fingers quickly tapping away before pausing and deleting, starting up and turning off again with no consistency to its pattern.
——————————
akito.s
they've been fine
im just having some difficulties with it
ToyaAoyagi
Oh
Do you need any help?
akito.s
no
wait i was supposed to go to sleep lmao
ToyaAoyagi
:)
Goodnight then, Akito.
——————————
Such simple words, yet he felt warm. Too warm. His gaze was fixated on the text messages, ignorant of the brunette walking into his room. It had been so long since they last spoke, since a normal conversation without some amount of awkwardness or tensions wedging itself into them, and now he felt normal. How he was supposed to feel, how he remembered his emotions towards the writer being before. That overwhelming rush of love, or at least something akin to it, overflowing.
He would refuse to ever say it, to announce it, too aware of the nervousness and embarrassment that would accompany it if he ever told anyone he still liked Toya.
Maybe he could help him figure out the lyrics.
Those godforsaken lyrics.
It felt like a curse, to think about it at all. About his supposed passion.
Could he even call it his passion or dream any longer?
To be pissed at others for putting in the bare minimum, beginning to continue on in spite of himself and his stubbornness to give up, did that mean anything?
To beat RAD WEEKEND seemed like an almost foreign idea.
To save Vivid Street sounded even more difficult. Impossible, even.
Admitting that felt shameful, as though he had commit a guilty act of violence, to say something the previous him, the true Akito, would've refused to claim. This phase, the flame that burnt out after so long, it was something his prior stubbornness would've pulled him out of. But now, that same trait seemed to continuously drag him back down, forcing him to crash into whatever tried to stop that fall, only breaking them with him.
However, despite that feeling of drowning, he opened his notes app, looking at the two lines he managed to get in, before dragging his fingers across the keyboard.
'ikitakutte? ikitakutte?
wake wakannai naa, boku wa
shinitakutte mo, shi ni takushite
kashi ni natte utau kyou da'
A full verse.
It was something, at the very least, to get that much out. His hidden away pride screamed at him endlessly to add more, yet even that minimal task made helped exhaustion overtake his already tired body, unable to continue writing. Calling it writing felt off, that was something that belonged to Toya, at least in the ginger's mind. Writing wasn't something he was capable of any longer.
As he looked at it longer, something about the words seemed to call him. They felt natural, unforced, unlike all the other songs he had attempted to write, if they could even be called songs. They sounded decent, for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
Maybe he could share them with Toya, with his writer, then he'd stop asking about how it's going, because then he'd know he was being productive. That he could end up with something.
It felt nice, getting something done.
Yet, that moment of calmness, of a lack of tension, faded away nearly immediately as he fell asleep, his body finally seizing the opportunity to sleep.
•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•
WORD COUNT: 1179
I feel like my word choices were rather repetitive this chapter, so apologies about that.
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VIVIDWords | AkiToya (Project Sekai)
Fanfiction|| "Hey, Ena, do you think they'd still be there?" "Probably not. It's been years." || Akito and Ena return to their homes, yet life decides to separate them from their old partners. || SEQUEL TO EDITOR || || This isn't Ena focused, despite her bei...
