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Rain poured down the streets. It was dim and Harumi found himself stumbling onto Higasa's empty soccer field, dazed out of his mind. His legs lost their power, body tumbling forwards onto the dirty, wet patch of grass. A laugh left his chest.
“Pathetic.” He'd whispered to himself. His once pristine blue suit had been soiled— that is, if it wasn't soiled hours ago.
Harumi had made the mistake of going to a prom after party that his classmates had pressured him into going. Usually, he'd decline as all he wanted was to sleep after their boring prom night, but that just meant having to be alone with his thoughts.
Being alone didn't bring the best scenarios in mind. Akihiko hadn't been talking to him for God knows what reason, and his parents were probably busy at work so it's not like there was anything for him to do. In desperation to feel a little comfort, he decided to throw all personal feelings out the window just for that night.
Reluctantly, he had agreed.
The after party wasn't administered by their school, but rather a few seniors. That meant drinking and obscene scenes that Harumi tried desperately to keep away from.
No one cared that there were first-years drinking alcohol, so naturally, Harumi kept to himself in the kitchen, sipping on spiked punch while he scrolled on his phone. He only planned on being there for a few minutes until he got bored. Then, a few minutes turned into hours and he found himself drinking more than just spiked punch. Suddenly, there were at least 7 bottles of sake on the counter next to him. Had he really been drinking that much?
Everything suddenly became too clear. The sticking of his suit to his skin, the loud music blaring in his ears, the heavy weight of his body on legs. Faced with such realizations, Harumi faded away from the party through the back door where no one could see him.
Under the guise of the pouring rain, his legs took him to wherever, running and running as his heart pounded irregularly. Every brunette he saw, he'd pause and stare. It was never who he was looking for.
When he finally felt himself losing energy, he found himself at Higasa Academy's soccer field. The once populated field was now empty in the night, the grass took in all the rain as the audience seats were covered from the pour.
Harumi could almost picture himself, laying pathetically on the wet grass that soaked the back of his suit. He could barely keep his eyes open, rain pouring onto him every second that passed by. Alone.
He didn't know why Akihiko stopped talking to him. There was no heads up like before when Akihiko would get busy with cram school or exams, he just stopped. And Harumi couldn't help but wonder if it was all his fault.
He and Akihiko would see each other at the train station sometimes. Hell, Harumi would even wait for him. But the moment they lock eyes, Akihiko would already be out of sight, almost like he was deliberately avoiding him.
Harumi raised an arm in front of him, flexing his fingers. The last time he saw Harumi was three days ago. Fed up with his hiding, he tried going after him, but his hand had barely touched his shoulder before he ran away.
“What aren't you telling me, Aki..?” His voice was but a mere whisper, droplets of water entering his throat and filling up lungs as he spoke. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
Warm tears rolled down the corner of his eyes, blending in with the rain. Maybe that's why he ran outside— no one would know if he cried.
His teeth gritted as Harumi tried to stop the sobs that left his lips, his chest tightening with every cry. Drunken, Harumi’s mind couldn't comprehend it. Why was he alone? Where was Akihiko and why won't he come?
He lowered his hand to help himself up, trying to pick up whatever pieces were left of himself. Harumi's palm dug into the wet grass of the football field— it… wasn't real.
Through heavy breathing, his fingers clawed at the “grass”. It wasn't real. It was fake, made of plastic. The grass was fake. Everything— everyone was fake.
Harumi let out a low chuckle, one that turned into maniacal laughter as his dirtied palms met with his face. He pulled at the locks of his hair, laughing pathetically to himself. With the alcohol in his system, he couldn't stop laughing, and when his back hit the field once again, he couldn't get up.
Slowly, his hand reached into the pocket of his suit, taking out his soaking wet phone and dialling in a familiar number through the blur of his own tears. One ring, two rings—
“Aki…”
”Huh? Who’s this?”
“I really like you.”
”Wha— Harumi, is that you..?” Akihiko's sleepy voice turned into alert. Just on the other line, Harumi could hear the fumbling of his sheets.
“I've figured it out.” Harumi's heart burned and his head ached, unable to think properly as words poured out of his mouth without reserve.
“You see… everything is fake. Everyone and everything, it's all fake. Like— even the grass at the football field is fake! It's- it's plastic! It's like, bright at night but… it's night… and it shouldn't be bright…”
”What’s going on? Are you at Higasa's football field?!”
“Hm..? I am. And it's so blurry.”
There was a loud thud from the other line and Harumi knew that Akihiko put his phone down. Still, he couldn't stop himself from keeping speaking. Not when there was so much he had to say, but so little time.
“Don’t you get it, Aki?” The rain was loud, but he was sure to be louder. “All the people are fake. Everyone around us, they're made out of metal—”
More rustling.
“But I like you. And that is not— it's not fake.”
The rustling stopped. Harumi could hear Akihiko's faint voice through the other end. ”Don't go anywhere.”
The call ended, Harumi chuckled. He smiled at the moon, keeping him company as he stayed. There was nowhere to go, not when it was so dark and far away from home.
He hummed to himself, eyes fluttering close as he let the rain wash away his thoughts and leave his heart full of rainwater. His weight sunk under the “grass”, its dampness pulling him into the ground deeper and deeper into his own mental hell.
Fingers clutched onto his sleeve, gripping it with whatever strength he had left. Maybe this was it. They'll find him tomorrow morning, shrivelled under the sun. All that's left of him, at least.
“Harumi!”
Harumi's head spun at the sudden call of his name, eyes opening to glance at where it came from. A familiar mop of brown hair ran towards him, falling to his knees as hands wrapped around his face. Slender fingers pushed his hair away. It was warm compared to the cold rain, and his heart began to tighten.
“Aki..?”
“What have you done?! Are you drunk?” Akihiko's worried face came into his blurred vision, eyes wide as panic settled in. The rain stopped the moment he came. “Shit, sit up. Come on, sit up.”
While Harumi did as he said, he couldn't help but run his fingers across Akihiko's face, wondering if it was truly him. He was at a loss of words, examining Akihiko like he wouldn't be able to tomorrow. “Akihiko… Akihiko, you came…”
“Of course I did, now let's get back. You'll get sick if you stay out here for longer.” Akihiko wrapped Harumi's arm around his neck with great struggle, wondering when Harumi became so heavy.
Harumi weighed him down with limp legs, unable to get his jaded eyes off of his face. He was there. He was actually there, talking and touching him like they did once before. Akihiko struggled under his weight, but Harumi couldn't comprehend anything but his face. His pretty face.
“You're beautiful. You're so beautiful, Shiraishi. I love seeing you, please don't leave me again.”
Akihiko paused, breath hitching. He gritted his teeth before shaking his head— now was no time to dwell on drunken words, especially when they were from a wasted Kurose Harumi. With another pull, he finally got Harumi on his feet.
They walked towards Akihiko's fallen bike— he'd pushed it away the second he saw Harumi— his face scrunched, smelling the sake off Harumi's clothes and hair. Who would even let a first-year drink alcohol, he wondered.
As they neared the bike, Akihiko was taken aback by Harumi pulling him into a sudden hug. His hold was tight, fingers clawing into his hoodie with desperation. Shaky breaths hit his neck when Harumi hid his face in between.
“Thanks for coming, Aki. I know I'm drunk, so don't be mad at me anymore…”
“Harumi…”
For the first time, Harumi showed vulnerability. When he was too stuck to his “Ice Prince” nonchalant persona, Akihiko had never seen him so… vulnerable, so small. He held onto Akihiko for dear life, worried that if he let go, he'd be gone the next second.
Harumi sobbed lightly in his hoodie, soaking the fabric. “I'm so glad you're here.”
But that would never be the case. Akihiko would never leave, not for the world.
“I'll always be here. I'm sorry I ignored you, I just…” Couldn’t accept my feelings for you. The words never came out. Akihiko pulled away and smiled instead, just like he always did. “This is a conversation for when you're sober. Come on, let's go home.”
That night, Akihiko walked a drunk Harumi home and stayed until the next morning.