#nyakashi

[chlorosapple]

さな @ Twitter

[kisekeet-blog]

@Nyakashi

Rummaging through drawers, scavenging cabinets. 

He didn't want to go this far, but his nagging conscience gave him no choice. Akashi was trying his absolute best, yes, he knew that. However...

One little promise wasn't going to completely quell those maddening urges. The urges that taunted Akashi almost every waking moment of his days; the voices that would cause Akashi to tremble and ache. They'd go on and on, telling him to die.

No, that is why every nook and cranny had to be carefully inspected. He won't turn a blind eye to even the most bluntest of blades. All and any dangerous looking objects had to be eradicated from this apartment. The kitchen was barren of tempting knives. Kise wasn't much of a cook anyway; meals were mostly take-out. 

Sanity was barely sustaining, for both of them, but they somehow managed. Because if one thing was for sure, Kise wanted to keep his promise to Akashi. To protect him, to love him, even when Akashi felt like he deserved none. 

"What the--" A gasp. Tentatively, he fished inside an antique vase to retrieve what   unfortunately had to be, "...A gun?!" 

He frowned, staring at the pistol with bloodshot eyes. Sleep had become a scarce luxury lately. All he wanted to do was ask why, even though the answer would probably be forever ambiguous. 

With a sigh, he wandered back into the tiny bedroom that they shared, hiding the firearm inside a big black box with a lock. It stayed high up in the closet, on a shelf that would take ages for Akashi to properly reach. Good thing it was locked tight with a code. Otherwise, every single weapon would be reclaimed by their unstable owner. Although it was hazy with negativity now, that didn't change the fact that Akashi was a brilliant tactician. Height was no feat for him.

...

"Akashicchi. I found another one."

He was used to this by now. It was pretty much routine. Almost like a game between them. A race of life and death. Can Kise find Akashi before the trigger is pulled? Or before the knife hits an artery? Or when the fire burns off every inch of flesh? Kise asked himself this every day. This twisted game was his reality.

He couldn't afford a game over. Neither of them could.