[Akira regrets saying answering the phone. He regrets hefting his hand onto his phone, squinting at its glaring caller ID, and accepting the call. He definitely regrets saying hello, as turbid and encumbered as his voice sounds. Hello, he says, practically moans, wincing into the thick of it—and the phone rewards him with splitting pain. Akira can't be sure what he's hearing, at first, just maybe someone's voice at the forefront of a swollen, throbbing clamor. He wrenches the phone away from his ear, wincing, and an inconvenienced whimper peeps out of his tense throat. He's pausing to gather himself, taking a breath, acknowledging his headache, before he settles the phone to his ear once again.]
What? [he says at last, and it's all he can think to say, its creak just barely too tired to be mystified. He takes in a breath between his teeth, squinting into his dim bedroom, and his free hand rises to press fingertips against his forehead.] Hikaru. A bad time? It's after 1.
[It wouldn't have been unusual for Akira to still be awake. Probably more usual than not, in fact. But after school, today, Akira had felt his fortitude fall finer and more finely into dust. He was asleep by 8:30 in the evening, and he's been a brick in bed since then. Having five hours of sleep behind him might have made it possible for the ringer of his phone, which was sitting next to his head, to jerk him into consciousness. Or, semi-consciousness, at the very least.
But Hikaru is too garbled for it to be a byproduct of Akira's exhausted haze. He's hazy on his own merits, sounding like soda, like boiling sugar, brimming over and painful for it. The headache it's causing is going to last for hours, most likely.] I... [...he doesn't even know where to start. Pretty loud, yes, it is, and why is that? A bad time, Hikaru wants to know if it's bad, and Akira isn't alert enough to appreciate his own bewilderment. On top of that, Hikaru is asking about his exams, the ones Akira told him about. The ones that ended today.] I didn't realize you were keeping track of my school schedule. [He's cringing too badly to sound dry.
His breath comes out sounding smothered, since he's rubbing his hand over his face, trying to jar himself free of murky sleep. The more he wakes up, the angrier he's going to be about having to wake up. He's getting tighter when he asks,] Where are you right now? You're yelling. [And, in yelling, he's been thinking about calling Akira, to see how he's doing. Akira feels so hopeless that he rubs his eyes to the point of seeing stars.]
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What? [he says at last, and it's all he can think to say, its creak just barely too tired to be mystified. He takes in a breath between his teeth, squinting into his dim bedroom, and his free hand rises to press fingertips against his forehead.] Hikaru. A bad time? It's after 1.
[It wouldn't have been unusual for Akira to still be awake. Probably more usual than not, in fact. But after school, today, Akira had felt his fortitude fall finer and more finely into dust. He was asleep by 8:30 in the evening, and he's been a brick in bed since then. Having five hours of sleep behind him might have made it possible for the ringer of his phone, which was sitting next to his head, to jerk him into consciousness. Or, semi-consciousness, at the very least.
But Hikaru is too garbled for it to be a byproduct of Akira's exhausted haze. He's hazy on his own merits, sounding like soda, like boiling sugar, brimming over and painful for it. The headache it's causing is going to last for hours, most likely.] I... [...he doesn't even know where to start. Pretty loud, yes, it is, and why is that? A bad time, Hikaru wants to know if it's bad, and Akira isn't alert enough to appreciate his own bewilderment. On top of that, Hikaru is asking about his exams, the ones Akira told him about. The ones that ended today.] I didn't realize you were keeping track of my school schedule. [He's cringing too badly to sound dry.
His breath comes out sounding smothered, since he's rubbing his hand over his face, trying to jar himself free of murky sleep. The more he wakes up, the angrier he's going to be about having to wake up. He's getting tighter when he asks,] Where are you right now? You're yelling. [And, in yelling, he's been thinking about calling Akira, to see how he's doing. Akira feels so hopeless that he rubs his eyes to the point of seeing stars.]