Carved and Uncarved [2/4, Tora/Shou]
I gave Shou's resignation no hard thoughts. At least, I attempted to - I was calm, barely shaken, just a little disappointed that he did not tell me about it. Still, I quickly waved that away - perhaps he was going to call or text me later; then we could celebrate the day in which whore Shou became just Shou.
He did no such thing. I went back to the dorm shared between me and Nao, headed to my bed and tossed myself recklessly on it. And I waited. I charged my phone and waited. I rolled to face the wall, felt the cold blanket rub against my skin, and waited. I waited until midnight.
Still no call.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In the end, I was the one who made the first call. Instead of a deep "Hello?", however, I received two never-desired options: leave a voice message or slam the receiver down. I chose the first one, naturally. Slamming the receiver down would mean shutting Shou out of my life. I couldn't possibly do that; not now, not ever.
The message was light and breezy, hopefully clear enough to contain all I wanted to tell him:
"Ohayo, Shou-san, this is Amano Shinji, remember me? I heard you quit your job; good for you, there are much better opportunities for you in this lousy world. Anyways, I just wanted to say - eto... let's get together - for lunch, I mean. Or maybe dinner. I got you a present, and... well, I hope we can be clo - I mean, good friends, not just chatting buddies; should be fine with you, yeah?"
After that, I went out to watch and random film at the theatre nearby with Nao. It served as entertainment all right, but it was more of a distraction. I had to clear my mind, erase all thoughts of Shou and dump them in a temporary rubbish bin - I would pick them up later and try to play and replay the best memories of him over and over in my head.
The next morning, I checked my phone. No new messages, no missed calls. I decided to give it another day, though, but when nothing changed after 24 hours, I had a burning urge to lock myself in the bathroom and brood over the nothingness. In fact, I was about to do that, when a sudden pang pierced me right in the heart: nothing did change - it changed into something, something not new, something that merely came back on the fourth day and accumulated silently in the softest part of my chest.
It was the anchor.
He did no such thing. I went back to the dorm shared between me and Nao, headed to my bed and tossed myself recklessly on it. And I waited. I charged my phone and waited. I rolled to face the wall, felt the cold blanket rub against my skin, and waited. I waited until midnight.
Still no call.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In the end, I was the one who made the first call. Instead of a deep "Hello?", however, I received two never-desired options: leave a voice message or slam the receiver down. I chose the first one, naturally. Slamming the receiver down would mean shutting Shou out of my life. I couldn't possibly do that; not now, not ever.
The message was light and breezy, hopefully clear enough to contain all I wanted to tell him:
"Ohayo, Shou-san, this is Amano Shinji, remember me? I heard you quit your job; good for you, there are much better opportunities for you in this lousy world. Anyways, I just wanted to say - eto... let's get together - for lunch, I mean. Or maybe dinner. I got you a present, and... well, I hope we can be clo - I mean, good friends, not just chatting buddies; should be fine with you, yeah?"
After that, I went out to watch and random film at the theatre nearby with Nao. It served as entertainment all right, but it was more of a distraction. I had to clear my mind, erase all thoughts of Shou and dump them in a temporary rubbish bin - I would pick them up later and try to play and replay the best memories of him over and over in my head.
The next morning, I checked my phone. No new messages, no missed calls. I decided to give it another day, though, but when nothing changed after 24 hours, I had a burning urge to lock myself in the bathroom and brood over the nothingness. In fact, I was about to do that, when a sudden pang pierced me right in the heart: nothing did change - it changed into something, something not new, something that merely came back on the fourth day and accumulated silently in the softest part of my chest.
It was the anchor.