—••
Hakuji (Akaza) X Koyuki
Nocturnal Serenade
—••
He waits for the nights impatiently. Nights where the moon is out yet hidden beneath thick clouds through which no light can penetrate, nights where the stars are asleep so the sky is merely a giant void, nights where he is restless, where his blood pumps hotly through his veins and his heart is hammering madly in his chest. Akaza waits for the night with a burning passion of a drowning man desperate for air, with his fists clenched as if to hold something dear to him safe.
(ha. as if —
as if he had anything dear to him, as if he was strong enough to protect anything)
He hates those nights. And yet he can't help but be eager to greet the darkness with open arms, because in those murky depths, he thinks he sees it.
It — the reason why he keeps holding on to this listless existence, keeps opening his eyes to the neverending darkness, keeps moving on, moving on, moving on. It's only in the deep darkness Akaza can see the clearest he's ever seen. His reason for living comes in a slender figure, with their back turned to him: light playing so that angel wings paint beneath the dip of her shoulderblades. He reaches out, calls out, but he always falls short, and he always wakes up just when the figure turns around to gift him the most beautiful of smiles.
(who are you, he craves to ask. why are you in my dreams, why are you in my nightmares?)
If he takes another step forward, if he closed his eyes to the buzzing sound in his ears, Akaza thinks he can almost take ahold of it. He'd protect this person, he'd love and cherish and never let go of them, long as they provide him the reason to keep on living this meaningless life. He'd make sure they were safe, he swears to the full moon tonight. He'd make sure they were happy.
Of course he would. But then why do the words taste so bitter on his tongue, like acid forced down his throat. It spreads corruption through his veins, stronger and stronger until his chest contracts with pain and his breath is ragged, and the bubbling need to fight someone arises.
He swallows bitterly. Empty promises, air-filled lies. Akaza doesn't know where the thought came from, but it sends him down a spiral of hazed red madness.
(again. again. again
somewhere, he thinks he sees a girl weeping)
"Hakuji-san, do you remember talking about seeing the fireworks when we were young?"
Akaza tilts his head up, and lets his eyes wander across the night sky. Do you remember, Hakuji? And he feels shame coil on the pit of his stomach, because he envisions the scene on a peaceful night like this, except without his bloody fists and bitter loneliness creeping up his spine, and he thinks, this is what happiness looks like.
(i'll be counting on that, said with a trusting smile
— please don't)
Memories sharper than a double-edged sword; they pierce his chest every time he takes ahold of them. But still, through the pain, Akaza closes his eyes and jumps headfirst into the pool of blood.
"Who are you? Are you the reason why I keep living?"
And the figure merely smiles and says nothing. Akaza steps forward, and he holds his breath as he rests a hand against the figure's shoulder, half-expecting them to dissolve into mist again.
But they don't. They remain solid and still and alive in his arms, and Akaza can't stop the flood of emotions roiling in his stomach. Feels like a hurricane: all-consuming, as inexplicable as the ephemeral winds of nature, as unstoppable as a tidal wave.
"I've been looking for you," he says.
The figure is of a petite girl, and she peers up at him with glassy eyes that promise of eternal spring when they crinkle up in a smile. "I know."
(stay with me, please, he wants to say —)
"I've been waiting for you, too."
She, the unnamed light to which Akaza revolves around. She steps forward to wrap her arms around his waist, and though she's too small to hold him properly, Akaza feels a slow drizzle of warmth trickle down his skin. It feels safe, for some reason. Feels like home, and comfort, in a way he doesn't think he's ever felt before.
She starts swaying to a music that doesn't exist, but her ear is rested against where his heart pounds strongly, and she dances to that while he dances to her. He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, resting his chin above his head. She is an apparition of a light long gone, and yet she still shines like the sun in an eclipse. He's been looking for this, this belongingness and security and love, he realizes. This is what happiness looks like — this is what life looks like.
But everything will end. Sometime. The sunrise will come eventually to steal her away, and he'll wake up to another lonely day of helpless wandering, spiralling down thoughts of why, why, why.
(why continue to live, akaza? why?)
So he'll try to cherish this tender moment as long as he can. He clutches her tighter to his chest, and takes in the scent of fresh leaves and winter chill. She's warm in his arms, and it's all he's ever wanted.
"Stay with me," he begs.
(i'll protect you, i swear. this time i'll do better, he promises)
"I will," she replies, still smiling that honeyed smile at him. She is broken promises and should've-beens and delicate snowflakes dancing in the wind. "I'll stay by you until the morning comes, my love."
(and that is the most comforting thing akaza has ever heard in his life)
—••
A/N: I didn't know how to put in Koyuki's name, but this was made with her in mind ahahahaha
I just reread the chap about them and now I'm cryin っ╥╯﹏╰╥c
wani y u so brutal ≥﹏≤
