#its.... been... so long

The sun shone piercingly through the curtains of my room.

Washing my face in the bathroom, the swollen eyes reflecting in the mirror reminded me of what I did last night; I really didn't want to step foot into school today. Begrudgingly, I dressed up and prepared to leave the house, deploying my best effort to ignore the heavy weight on my shoulders. But the throbbing in my head didn't make matters easier to forget.

Eventually, I was outside and on my way to school.

On and on, my thoughts drifted - worries that I'd see him, and that he'd confront me - even though we'd never actually met. But what if he already knew what I looked like? Then, he'd easily be able to spot me in school. Maybe he was even in my class..

Suddenly, my thoughts were loudly interrupted.

"...You look like you were ran over by bus!" Someone shouted from behind me, presumably at another person.

I assumed it was somebody making a passing comment at me. Flattening my vest to maintain a somewhat kempt appearance, I continued walking. But the comments persisted.

"No, seriously, what happened to you dude?!"

Dude..? That definitely wasn't directed at me. I don't know anyone who calls me that. And above all - that voice was very boisterous. It was really.. familiar. A voice that loud isn't one you can forget very easily.

Curiosity somehow got the best of me as I turned to take a peek at what the ruckus was.

Two boys walking beside each other. One of them looked like a loud person, the other looked to be his opposite - he really did look like he was ran over by a bus. Though, the 'loud' boy didn't only sound familiar, but also looked very familiar.

That was when the realisation hit me - thinking back to those two boys in the convenience store a while back - the loud boy referred to the person walking beside him using a name that was too close to home for my liking.

"What're you looking at Akaashi?" His friend asked.

The boy stopped midway through his slow paced walk, looking directly at me, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

My heart dropped.

He turned to his friend and said something which I couldn't hear - not through the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. Soon, he paced off, leaving the two of us alone. I almost wanted to follow him, to ignore the boy in front of me and continue as though nothing happened.

But I couldn't - not this time.

Not with him walking towards me, each step emboldening the tear burns on the corners of his eyes, the dark circles underneath, and the unbrushed, unkempt state of his hair.

He looked terrible. And it was all my fault.

My gaze remained fixed on the ground in front of me. I couldn't look him in the eyes. Not after I abandoned him. I assumed he didn't want to meet me because he always avoided the topic. I never took a second to consider that he may have his own problems in doing that. Instead, I ran away from him, leaving him to wallow in his own issues, knowing that he needed a person to talk to.

The footsteps stopped, entering my field of view.

My vision blurred, tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't keep running away from things that I was unsure of. I couldn't continue to assume things about others that weren't true, things that I had no proof of.

And if I were to make those mistakes again, I doubt I'd have the opportunity to communicate what I really meant.

I was barely able to choke out the words that had been lingering in the back of my head.

"I'm.. so.. sorry."

Some time passed without a single word having been uttered by either of us. I half expected him to walk off, not satisfied with my petty apology. But he didn't, and before I knew it, he spoke up, his voice soft and gentle.

"I'm.. sorry too".

Finally raising my gaze from the ground, his eyes met mine. "I'm sorry for avoiding you." After exhaling deeply, he continued. "I'm the one who always pushed you away whenever you'd try to bring up the topic of us meeting."

He was right. It happened so often that I wondered if something in him suddenly changed one day and he became fed up with me - and his lack of desire to meet me was his own way of cutting things off. But that was a result of me jumping to conclusions, and never even giving him a chance to explain things himself.

"It's.. a little hard to explain". He sighed. "I guess.. I was just embarrassed from myself and the things I told you - things about my feelings, and my club-". His voice began to shake as he continued. "..Things that would make you think that I'm just.. some sort of freak.."

As he spoke those words, my heart sank. I couldn't have misunderstood him any more than I already had. He stood in front of me, tears silently streaming down his cheeks.

Stepping closer towards him, I reached into my pocket, grabbing a handkerchief. In one hand, I dabbed the corner of his eyes - in the other, I held his cheek, tears sinking into my inner palm. He gazed at me with wide eyes, eyes that spoke of the sadness within him.

"I never once thought of you as a freak, or anything remotely like that". Lowering my hands, I continued. "All I wanted was to meet you, to watch you play volleyball, to laugh with you, to hang out with you..". My voice quietened. "To hear your laughter and watch you smile, and to be beside you.." My heart pounded loudly, its beating coursing throughout my entire body. Now wasn't the time to be saying these things.

He inched closer, arms wrapping around my back. I did the same, holding his back in my grasp. I feel his entire body as it trembled alongside each short inhale as his grasp tightened as if to plead "Please, don't leave me."

I might've done it once, but now, I'd never make the same mistake again. His name was now something I wouldn't forget - his face becoming the first that I'd search for in a crowd. His voice becoming my lullaby - I refused to leave him to wallow in his own sadness alone anymore.

He released me from his grasp, taking my hands in his. "I promise not to run away anymore."

A small smile tugged at my lips as I gazed back at him with tear glossed eyes. "Me too."