In Absence Of Sound.
While the rest of the members alternate between exclamations of disbelief and worried murmuring, Yabu is the one who asks the questions like “When was the accident?” “How did it happen?” “Who was involved?” and “Which hospital is he at?” Later, much later, when the rest of JUMP had trickled home and Yabu was the only one left, Julie-san would take him aside and thank him for his maturity in handling the entire situation, and he would simply smile back tiredly and say that it was his duty.
What Yabu doesn’t tell anyone is how much he wants to cry when he sees Hikaru on the hospital bed - pale, quiet, unmoving. It’s the antithesis of the other boy, no volume, no stunts, no laughing. It makes him think of shells, like the time they had a beach photo shoot and he scooped a conch shell from the shore, held it to Hikaru’s ear while the younger boy warbled along and they laughed till they had to blink the salt from their eyes. They threw it back into the sea later, when the sun was setting and the camera men were packing up (bad light, they claimed), and as the waves swallowed the pale pinkness of it Hikaru whispered “empty” and Yabu didn’t know what to say.
What Yabu does instead is mechanical: he expresses his condolences to Hikaru’s parents; he comforts the mother at the appropriate times, offers the hope that Hikaru will wake up (“Because he never ever gives up,”) and thanks her when she mentions how lucky Hikaru is “to have such kind, caring friends”. By the time midnight creeps around Yabu is the one who volunteers to watch over Hikaru for the night, even though Yamada and Takaki mention that they could do it and Ryutaro says that Yabu “probably should rest too”. But Yabu shakes his head and cites his duty once again, cites his friendship to Hikaru and the years they’ve spent together. He insists in that soft, gentle way of his that makes Hikaru’s mother cry and his father clap him on the back, thanking him in the shaky voice that men have when they’re overcome with emotion. Yabu then ushers the rest of JUMP out of the ward and promises to phone Mr. and Mrs. Yaotome should their son wake up, closes the door behind him and pulls up a chair beside the bed.
He doesn’t say it but he hates the ward they’re in. It’s classy, comfortable, A-grade for a teenage idol complete with plush pillows, cable TV and the privilege of being utterly, utterly isolated. He wants to tell the doctors that this isn’t ideal for recuperation because Hikaru isn’t a loner, he’s the kind to talk to little old ladies in the next bed and joke about the weather, the one who gives commentaries on Nakai while watching the TV, the one who lights up the room with his banter and disarming laughter.
What Yabu does instead is sit by his band mate’s side and talk about rehearsals, he talks about how Koyama-kun stopped him today to talk about inter-group bonding and how Chinen almost crashed into Nino-kun while rushing for a photo shoot (and not because of Ohno-kun, surprisingly), tells him how Yuto nearly fell down while doing a running scene and how Daiki fell asleep with his face squashed against the camera lens and there’s footage of his cheek, and he talks and talks and talks like there’s no tomorrow because he wants to fill up the silence, fill up everything that Hikaru has left behind. He closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to see this, him talking desperately into thin air and Hikaru, silent, on the line of dream and sleep that Yabu cannot differentiate.
By 3 a.m. Yabu’s voice is hoarse and Hikaru’s hands are still as cold as ever; Yabu opens his eyes but Hikaru doesn’t. For a while Yabu retracts back into silence, watches Hikaru under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. It’s quiet, so quiet he thinks he can hear Hikaru breathing, a delicate cycle of in and out, so fragile he himself almost stops breathing in fear of breaking it. It’s too much to take in and he can’t remember when he last looked at Hikaru like this, his hair fanned out across the pillow, his tanned skin paler now, his eyelashes longer than he remembered - and his hands, lying like two conch shells on the spread of the blanket.
When he takes Hikaru’s hand and puts it to his ear, Yabu finally understands the meaning of emptiness. Hearing nothing, he presses Hikaru’s hand to his cheek, and in the silence of the hospital ward, cries.