This fanfic's for Noitratoxin. Because she requested it and stuff. And it's my first angsty fanfic in a while. The satisfication of angst~ Although I think some parts are a little awkward, and altogether just amateur and not with the flow and stuff, but it's the best I could.
Got inspired by silence in the dead of the night, when I should have been sleeping. Silence is never like absence of sound. Silence is...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Liar Game.
absence of any sound or noise; stillness.
the state or fact of being silent; muteness.
absence or omission of mention, comment, or expressedconcern: the conspicuous silence of our newspapers on localgraft.
the state of being forgotten; oblivion: in the news again afteryears of silence.
I can't sleep.
The silence pierces. It's threatening to take over me. It's too loud. Why haven't I noticed it before? The fact that it's too quiet around here? Why am I even questioning the silence? Aren't I supposed to be used to it?
The fan that is attached to the wall is asleep. I turn it on, but even with the noise the fan makes, the room - the house - is too silent. I can't even call the apartment, which I paid good money for, my home. I don't feel safe or warm or even comfortable in it. The house is a stranger.
A name comes to my mind: Nao. I glance over at my slightly rusted cell phone lying on the flaky window pane, and proceed to note the time from the clock in front of me.
1.47am. The idea of calling, or even visiting her now is tempting, but the hour is too odd.
But no, a part of my brain muses, it's just a few more hours to daybreak. Surely she won't mind being awoken a little earlier.
Sure, another part of my brain sarcastically notes. 5 more hours. Sure she'd be awake. Sure she'd be frantically getting worried about a petty thing like silence. Sure she'd be worrying about nothing like you, you freako.
My body is at war with itself.
I shift to my side on the bed. It's freaky how often she haunts my thoughts and dreams. Like I've done something wrong. Something like a desperation. And I've heard and seen enough talk shows about love - hell, I've even seen sappy love stories in real life - but I don't care. I just can't care less about love stories, because I have to care enough about what I'm feeling. Love is painful. Love is very painful. I don't like love. It doesn't even seem like a good thing. Fear, anger, protectiveness, lust, all mashed up into one huge lump, throbbing about in my head, willing to drive me mad. Yes... yes, I think it wants to turn me utterly and completely INSANE, to throw me off my normal life and dump me into a life of solitude. With no one around. Actually, that might very well be a good idea. No one to make me feel what I'm feeling now.
No Kanzaki Nao.
She's such an innocent, naive, young girl. But she's destroying me. Does she even know it?
It's not even about the Liar Game, which is still in progress, and still coming up with new ideas on how to torture us next. It's just Her. If I don't find a way to do something soon... I think I might just explode. Or something.
Doing something means going over to her house.
Without a second thought, I leap out of the bed, grab the jacket that is hanging on the lamp, and fumble with the small pieces of cold, hard metal, before opening the door and stepping outside. Outside, where the air is light and dry and chilly, where the buildings are dormant, where the world is at rest.
I never once stop to think about how weird this is, like I'm some creepy stalker dude, but I don't care. Probably the late night taxi drivers are staring at me and wondering why I seem to be running away like a deranged madman. I think I am becoming a deranged madman. But it's not my fault anyway.
The wind whistles in a stream along me, breaking the monotonous quiet, and for that I am grateful.
My feet navigate me through the intersections and concrete structures that tower above, and not once do I stop to see where I am. By and by, I find myself right before the apartment of my destination.
Quickly, I run up the stairs two at a time, my insides starting to shake with both fear and expectancy, for some reason that I do not know.
And I arrive at the top, before the door.
I stand there, dumbly staring at the block of wood in front of me. The night is still, the door handle cold, the air free of exhaust and full of noise. Noise of nothingness. I focus on the dark brown shape in front of me, my eyes drilling an imaginary hole through it. For some time I remain in this stature, my thoughts and limbs frozen. Then a light comes on in the house.
My first instinct.
I can't hear anyone stirring in the house, so I slowly get up from the crouched position I have shaped my body into. It must seem kinda funny for any passer-by to see a tall man suddenly curling up on the floor, but I don't bother about my reputation just yet.
The lights shut off.
The railing I'm leaning against is wobbly, unsteady. I shift my body over to the opposite wall that separates me from the one who has me wrapped around her finger.
The handle on the door creaks.
I stiffen, muscles tense.
The door opens, and it's Nao (well, obviously), who's hair slightly resembles a bird's nest and who's hands are clasped in front of her. It's my first time seeing her in something other than a dress, and I'm guessing that the oversized tee and black shorts are her pyjamas.
"Akiyama-san," she breathes, her eyes wide open, her mouth shaped into a little o.
Silently, she ushers me in. She leans against the wall facing her bed and slides down into a sitting posture. Head resting on the wall, arms circled around her legs. I seat myself on her right, as she absent-mindedly fingers the pink rug on the floor.
She doesn't ask why I'm here. Nor do I bother to explain.
Does she even know why I'm here? Why is she even awake? I turn my head to face her, watch her face the window across the room. From the window pours in moonlight, not as bright as sunlight, but light all the same. It illuminates her face, captures her facial features in a way that makes me have to resist going all out on her. I don't notice I'm staring at her, till she starts chuckling.
"Why are you staring at me like that, Akiyama-san?"
My face turns a deep scarlet, and I hurriedly look away and grunt a reply.
Then all falls silent again. She doesn't seem to wonder why I'm here. Why does she trust me so much, anyway? Wasn't I a conman before? Or does she still trust everyone like that?
But I know that the answer is no. It's already been four rounds, and she knows better than to trust every single stranger that comes around. Still, wouldn't it be weird if you found someone at your doorstep at such a godforsaken hour like 2am? Why had Nao even opened the door then, anyway?
Then it occurs to me: she must have been awake.
I swivel my eyeballs to look at her again, and only now do I notice the eyebags, the tear-stained cheeks, and the creases on her forehead.
"Nao." I break the wall of silence. "What's wrong?"
Her eyebrows raise in surprise. Then she relaxes the tiniest bit, and puts on a faint smile.
"I should be asking you that, Akiyama-san."
"I asked first."
There is once again silence, that never seems to give up, that seems like a bad guy of some sort that sneaks into conversation and disrupts them, and that goes hand in hand with Awkwardness, it's super sidekick. I almost heave an audible sigh of relief when the girl on my left speaks up.
"I don't know why, but it's not really the Liar Game that's putting my in this state. I should be worrying more about that, ne?" Nervously, she giggles, shyly looking away, where apparently a very interesting feather duster leans against the wardrobe.
I try to make my voice comforting, warm. "Is it your dad?"
Embarassed, she shakes her head. Probably embarassed because she wished she was being a filial girl and worrying about her father.
"Well, I guess I've been really worried about you, and..." a long pause. "Akiyama-san, why did you bother to help me anyway? I know it's partly because of your mom and all, but," she bows her head. "why me?"
She's in this state because of me. Because of me. I don't even know if I should be angry at myself for indirectly causing her distress, or elated that she thinks about me so much. Then I remember her question that was hanging in the air.
"Why not?" I simply state, watching her downcast eyes lighting up a little, and inside I feel a sense of accomplishment. Subtly, I move a little closer, inch by inch, and rigidly put my left arm around her shoulders, causing her to lean on my shoulder. Her muscles release their tension, her shoulder blades dip. I can't think of much other than the fact that she's leaning on me. She clouds up my thoughts. My thoughts grind to a halt. My mind becomes clear.
"Akiyama-san?" she whispers.
"Hn?" I whisper back.
It takes me a while to process this, my normally quick brain moving exceptionally slow.
When I have processed it, the results show that she returns my feelings, and I am left speechless at the miracle of it all. Then I feel moist droplets staining my shirt, and I look down to see that Nao is crying. Dammit, I've made her cry, the last person I ever wanted to.
Slowly, I stroke her hair, and wipe those cursed tears from her eyes with my calloused fingers. She moves her head to face me, her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape.
And gently, I lean in and reward myself with a kiss, brushing my lips against her's, softly pressing our mouths together. I keep it slow and easy and sweet, and she tastes of strawberries, her normal scent. Her lips, cool beneath mine, move after a few seconds of stillness - probably due to bafflement.
Silence prevails again, but it seems more tolerable now.
and that's a wrap!
Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully Akiyama wasn't too OOC, or the story too cheesy, or the story too fast, but hey, I can't please everyone.
Aishiteru = I love you
I would love a review.