Recursive fanfiction for Ignite to the Call by @cannibalisticapple.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Sunday, May 28, an hour after waking up to the absence of his usual check-in text and nine hours after he should have sent it. Find it empty. Pet the cats that run up to you. Sit down on the couch and make some more phone calls. Find out that nobody’s heard from him since the start of his patrol, fourteen hours ago now. Make another call. Feed the cats. Try to ignore the feeling in your gut as you leave for the meeting Nezu called.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Monday, May 29, thirty-five hours after he was last seen. Pet the cats, then feed them. Look again at the keyring in your hand. Remember that Shouta would’ve had his key on him when he was— when he left for patrol. Take out the trash like you intended, then go downstairs to talk to the landlord about changing the locks.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Tuesday, May 30, three days after he went missing. Pet the cats, feed them. Sit down on the couch and rub your feet that are still sore from yesterday. Let the locksmith in when she arrives. Close your eyes and be quietly grateful that you didn’t have to come Present Mic at her like you did at the landlord. Take the six keys that you specified. Thank the locksmith and return her smile. Replace the spare keys — one in its drawer, one in its hiding place — and give one to the landlord as you leave.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Wednesday, May 31, four days after he went missing. Pet the cats, feed them. Look at the two identical keys still on your keyring after you gave Nemuri hers yesterday. Hope that it won’t be too much longer before you can give Shouta his. Ignore the feeling in your gut. Leave for the next meeting.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Thursday, June 1, five days after he went missing. Stand your ground as the cats almost knock you over. Reflect that staying alone most of the day can’t be good for them. Sit down on the couch and call Tensei. Ask him if his family can take Shouta’s cats again. Hear him agree before you even finish the question. Dodge his questions about yourself and hang up. Feed the cats, then get them into their carriers for the trip. Make several trips down to your car. Don’t think about the times you’ve done this before. Leave for the Iidas’ house.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Friday, June 2, six days after he went missing. Be momentarily surprised by the absence of the cats. Sit down on the couch. Ignore the feeling in your gut. Don’t think about where he is. Don’t think about eight years ago. Don’t remember screams in the night. Look up and realize it’s been an hour. Get up and wander around the apartment. See the pile of mail you’ve been bringing in. Sort through it and find several bills. Toss the junk mail, then go downstairs to talk to the landlord about covering the utilities.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Saturday, June 3, a week after he went missing. Don’t sit down. Wander around the apartment some more. Start cleaning. Look up and realize it’s been an hour and you’re almost late for a meeting. Leave in a hurry.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Saturday, June 10, two weeks after he went missing. Sit down on the couch and take a breath. Stand up and go through the fridge. Make a list. Throw out the stuff that’s gone bad. Walk through the apartment and look for anything wrong. Take the other perishables with you when you leave.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Saturday, June 17, three weeks after he went missing. Set your bags down on the counter. Restock the fridge. Unpack the fresh set of Shouta’s costume and support gear. Put it all away next to the backups. Don’t think about the way the support rep looked at you when you picked them up. Leave in time for the meeting.
Storm into your best friend’s apartment on Saturday, June 24, a month after he went missing, still too mad at the landlord for raising a fuss about the empty apartment and making you come Present Mic at him again. Ignore the feeling in your gut. Go through the fridge again. Be quietly glad that Shouta likes those jelly packs partly because they last longer than Twinkies. Don’t think about why. Restock the fridge. Take the old perishables with you when you leave.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Friday, July 7, six weeks after he went missing. Call Tensei to check on the cats. Tell him there’s no news. Dodge his questions. Restock the fridge with nonperishables. Ignore the feeling in your gut. Walk through the apartment and look for anything different. Take the perishables with you when you leave.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Saturday, August 26, three months after he went missing. Stop for a moment with your hand on the doorknob and close your eyes. Sit down on the couch. Breathe. Don’t think about the horribly kind way they told you that he — don’t look at the empty seat next to you — don’t think — don’t — the feeling — stop — ignore…. Realize you’re having trouble breathing. Hear his voice for a second, counting to five. Snap your eyes open to an empty apartment. Remember the way he would count for you, you would count for him. Breathe to the memory of your voices together. See the couch cushion, the kitchen counter, the clock on the wall, the thing on the counter holding the tongs and spatulas and stuff, and the microwave. Hear the rush of the AC, the rumble of traffic outside, the buzz of some appliance you can’t identify, and the sound of your blood in your ears. Feel the couch cushions beneath your hands, the bunch of your unbrushed hair on the back of your head, and the pounding of your own heartbeat. Smell the leftover cat on the cushion, and the remains of your hair gel. Taste… uh, your mouth. Breathe. Think about the feeling in your gut, and let yourself cry. Leave the next morning feeling both better and worse.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Wednesday, November 8, five months after he went missing. Set your bag down on the couch and sit beside it. Wish Shouta a happy birthday, and hear it echo in the empty room. Do it again that night, cryptically.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on Wednesday, November 29, six months after he went missing, two days after he was taken from that room, five hours after you saw the chain and the stains on the floor. Collapse onto the couch. Stare at the wall, at the bag still on the cushion next to you. Let the thoughts come. Let yourself cry. Leave in time for your show.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment on what’s technically Thursday, December 7, a week after the room. Lay down on the couch and crash. Leave in the morning without telling Nemuri where you’re going.
Walk into your best friend’s apartment, not alone.
