Work Text:
The periodic breaths came with a steady pattern of breathing in and out, in and out.
Ash turned to his left to stare at the source of the noise: Eiji. His sleeping figure was facing in his direction, but not at him. Only three feet away, yet still so far. Eyes closed, his face was the epitome of calm, serene, of an unblemished and untainted soul—pure.
Ash had bid Eiji good night—he turned to look at the clock, which now read 3:21—four hours ago. Eiji, of course, had knocked out and fallen asleep immediately; it was like all he had to do was flip a switch.
Ash though… Ash was always left alone with his thoughts as he waited for sleep to catch up to him. He didn’t mind. When he did manage to sleep, it was a restless one and plagued with horrible nightmares and memories that would haunt him till his last days.
If it wasn’t Griff, it was Shorter. If not him, Eiji. It was an endless cycle that would make Ash wake up in a cold sweat every time. He hated it because sometimes he ended up waking Eiji in the process of collecting himself. He didn’t want to drag Eiji into the mess that was his messed up mind, but he was grateful for the company.
The nightmares came so often that it wasn’t long before Ash noticed a change in Eiji’s sleeping pattern.
Eiji came from a humble, safe background. He had no reason to be so cautious at home or always alert. This was reflected in the way he slept, he was a deep sleeper (emphasis on the was).
A couple of weeks into living with Ash, and any noise would have Eiji up and ready to move. While he was appreciative of how that skill could help sometimes, Ash couldn’t help but be sad. He was the reason Eiji was like that. The reason he could never really relax completely. He had taken this innocent boy and even done as much as to ruin the way his body worked.
Being left alone with his thoughts wasn’t good for him, but Ash would still take it over the nightmares. Being left alone meant lamenting the fact that Eiji had chosen to stay with him. It meant reflecting on all his decisions and how his actions had caused the downfall of everyone close to him. Still, Ash regretted nothing. He would do it all again.
The acknowledgment of the idea that maybe being left alone with his thoughts for the fifth night in a row wasn’t good for him made Ash realize that maybe, well, he should do something else. He had accepted that he would not be falling asleep that night.
Getting up slowly and almost without a sound, Ash left his and Eiji’s shared room in search of a distraction.
He could leave the apartment and wander the streets. Well, at least the old him could. It was his favorite replacement for not being able to sleep back when no one was waiting for him at home. But if he went out now, he knew Eiji would worry. He didn’t want Eiji to worry, so he couldn’t walk around New York when the streets were alive, when he had the time to think about things that didn’t involve who he was.
Ash decided a midnight snack would be best for now.
The silent steps he made led him to the kitchen, and upon opening the fridge he saw five things: tofu (no), natto (definitely a no), milk, a pack of sausages, and a 6-pack of beers. He had to remind Eiji to go grocery shopping.
Giving up, he started opening the cabinets and decided to eat the only logical thing he could—Oreos.
Retreating to their luxurious balcony, Ash ate his packet of Oreos while staring down at the city below.
It didn’t look like his new New York. He lived on 59th street now, near Columbus Circle, not in some deteriorating building on 26th street that had people walking down the street in the strangest attire as he kept to himself, unbothered. 59th street was home to various people who all had respectable jobs and reasonable sleep schedules. All Ash saw below was an empty sidewalk. It was clean, and without cracks–unlike the sidewalks he was used to pacing as he did jobs with his gang.
He heard a noise behind him and motioned to his right with his head.
“You are awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I guess so.”
“Why are you eating Oreos at three in the morning?”
“I don’t know, why haven’t you stocked the fridge? This is better than beer and raw hot dogs.”
Eiji hummed and took an Oreo as he stood on Ash’s right.
They remained silent as they stood together, occasionally making a noise as they rustled the packet in search of more cookies.
“Sorry for waking you,” Ash said after minutes of silence.
“It is alright, I was having trouble sleeping too.”
Ash stared at him, having trouble believing that statement. Eiji’s face was the definition of having a “good sleep” earlier.
“I am serious! I had nightmare that we were at Central Park feeding squirrels and they attacked me for wearing my Nori Nori sweater!’
Ash stared again, deadpanning.
“No? Not funny?” Eiji sighed. “What’s on your mind, you look so serious all the time?”
“Well I don’t have many reasons to not look serious at all.”
“And that!” Eiji cried, exasperated. “Why do you not answer my questions? You avoid the topic always and direct the conversation to other places. I do not want you to feel as if you cannot speak to me, I may not ‘get it,’ but I am here as shoulder to lean on, Ash.”
Ash smiled and looked at the skyline.
“You didn’t say anything,” Eiji said moodily.
At this, Ash finally laughed. “You wanna go back in? It’s getting kinda chilly out here.”
“You’re not going to fall asleep, are you,” a knowing Eiji sighed.
“Nope.”
“Ah. Now you answer my question.”
As they headed inside, Ash noticed that the clock on the stove now read 4:13. Eiji had only gotten four or so hours of sleep, and was now woken up at a horrible time of the night. Or was it day? You know, four in the morning is such an odd time, you can’t really tell.
“Hey Eiji,” Ash called.
“Hmm?” (Eiji was reaching for the cereal in the cabinet that Ash hadn’t seen in his search for food. Cheerios seemed like a much more sensible option to eat at four in the morning than Oreos, now that he thought about it.)
“Is it nighttime or daytime right now?”
“I don’t know. I think it can be whatever you want it to be, really,” he answered. “Why do you only ask me these questions?” he added jokingly. “Is there no one but me who is kind enough to think about the strange things you ask?”
“You’re the only person I really feel ok with asking these ‘stupid questions’ to. You’re not a member of the gang, but you are a part of it. I feel like being with you means I don’t have to always talk about Golzine or Banana Fish.”
Ash looked up and saw Eiji staring at him, those big eyes wide open in his direction at last. He’d paused in serving his cereal, and the box was frozen, held in midair by his hand.
“Never mind, that doesn’t really make any sense. Can you grab me a bow–”
“No, no that makes sense,” Eiji said hurriedly.
“Oh.” Ash’s heart had started racing for some reason. He hadn’t even said anything that weird, why was he worrying? “Good.”
Another moment had passed, and neither of them had moved.
“Can you grab me a bowl?”
“Oh yeah sure,” Eiji said in a rush, awkwardly moving around the kitchen.
“It’s all the way… at the back of the cabinet…” Eiji said as his muffled voice came from the crouched figure under the counter.
“Does the old man need help getting up from down there?”
“Nope! Is the delicate lady sure she should be drinking milk with her low blood pressure?” Eiji taunted back. “Ah, I’ve got it!” Eiji jumped up to show Ash the bowl, but bumped his head on the top of the cabinet, and dropped the plate, which shattered into pieces.
Eiji leaned out of the cabinet and stood up slowly to look at the mess he’d made, rubbing his head.
He and Ash stared at each other until Ash started laughing. Then he started laughing. They laughed and laughed (and were pretty sure the neighbors would file a noise complaint) over some stupid broken bowl that really didn’t mean anything, when they thought about it, especially at four in the morning when they were both too tired (but also too stubborn) to even attempt to go to bed.
“I’ll clean it up, Eiji. Can you just get me another bowl and serve me some cereal?”
“That,” Eiji said sheepishly, “that was the last bowl.”
“Last bowl?”
“Yes,” Eiji said holding back his laugh.
“Are you telling me we only own two bowls?” Ash asked, incredulously.
When Eiji didn’t answer, Ash said, “Eiji, I bought us a six million dollar condo, and you’re telling me that you can’t afford to buy with my money, two bowls for eating?”
When Eiji started laughing again, Ash reached over the counter to grab Eiji’s half-served cereal. “You don’t deserve this, I’m confiscating your cereal.”
“No Ash!” Eiji laughed. “We can share, I want my cereal now! I am not like you, I do not get energy after eating packs of cookies at such hour of the day! Or night! Wait you’re confusing me now!”
“Well, how do you suppose we can share?” Ash asked, serving himself some more cereal. “Get another spoon or something?”
He looked up to find Eiji smiling, nodding his head up and down like some excited dog.
“Oh c’mon, I was just joking,” Ash moaned.
And so, at when it was neither day or night, the boys who were neither friends nor lovers ate their half-soggy, shared bowl of Cheerios. Their two spoons kept clinking together, and they ate quickly so that the other couldn’t get his share.
Ash wished that every sleepless night could be like that one. He knew it was selfish to want to keep Eiji to himself, but this was enough to ask for.