Onoda's voice had stalled in his throat, and he found himself almost unable to breath. He managed it, though, despite trembling lips and fingers. He sucked in that valuable breath, and slowly craned his head down in order to look at the other.
"A-Arakita-san...." He choked back a sob, his eyebrows drawing together, his voice close to breaking. "Arakita-san, please, say something, please--"
Arakita's eyes were closed, his head was tilted back, against the pavement. Peaceful... wasn't the right word for it, but it was pretty damn close. Maybe.... resigned? Like he has given up. That might be... more accurate, because it's closer to the truth.
Arakita Yasutomo had given up.
There was only so much effort he could put forward towards this entire situation, only so much of his energy he could spare in favor of attempting victory. "I'm.... sorry, Onoda-chan. Tell Fuku-chan I'm sorry too..." Onoda was close to tears again, and he grabbed the fabric of Arakita's shirt tightly.
"N-No, no, please, Arakita-san, don't give up. Pl-Please!" He was getting hysterical, almost, lips pulling into a worried smile as he babbled. "You can make it, you really c-can, pl-please--" All Arakita did was shake his head, which was worrying in itself-- no retaliation, just.... calmness. It was horridly unnatural, and it made Onoda's panic even worse. "Get up, please."
Arakita merely shook his head, and smiled, his head turning to the side as he opened his eyes slightly. "I'm fine here, Onoda-chan. I've.... lost. I've fuckin' lost, and there's nothing I need to do about it anymore."
"It's n-not your fault. It c-could have happened to anyone, you d-didn't know it would end up like this. You c-couldn't have known, pl-please, d-don't give up! Fukutomi-san is still trying as hard as he can, he still believes, he still believes he can--"
"Don't you see?" There was edge to Arakita's voice this time, surrounded by pain. "There.... isn't any point to giving a shit anymore, Onoda-chan. I tried." He closed his eyes back, and he was once again looking peaceful and reserved. Onoda felt his heart break in half, and he slowly let go of his grip on Arakita's shirt. "....I can fuckin' move on now.... y'know?"
Onoda breathed out tearless sobs for a couple moments, then he really did let out a--
Sluuuuushoop.
Fukutomi took his arm out of the soda machine, standing up straight, the cold can firm in his grasp. He looked at it, then to Arakita lying on the hot pavement, then back to the can. "I got it out."
FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTARO, T
im never writing again
warning for arakita's mouth
word count: 429
_____
Onoda's voice had stalled in his throat, and he found himself almost unable to breath. He managed it, though, despite trembling lips and fingers. He sucked in that valuable breath, and slowly craned his head down in order to look at the other.
"A-Arakita-san...." He choked back a sob, his eyebrows drawing together, his voice close to breaking. "Arakita-san, please, say something, please--"
Arakita's eyes were closed, his head was tilted back, against the pavement. Peaceful... wasn't the right word for it, but it was pretty damn close. Maybe.... resigned? Like he has given up. That might be... more accurate, because it's closer to the truth.
Arakita Yasutomo had given up.
There was only so much effort he could put forward towards this entire situation, only so much of his energy he could spare in favor of attempting victory. "I'm.... sorry, Onoda-chan. Tell Fuku-chan I'm sorry too..." Onoda was close to tears again, and he grabbed the fabric of Arakita's shirt tightly.
"N-No, no, please, Arakita-san, don't give up. Pl-Please!" He was getting hysterical, almost, lips pulling into a worried smile as he babbled. "You can make it, you really c-can, pl-please--" All Arakita did was shake his head, which was worrying in itself-- no retaliation, just.... calmness. It was horridly unnatural, and it made Onoda's panic even worse. "Get up, please."
Arakita merely shook his head, and smiled, his head turning to the side as he opened his eyes slightly. "I'm fine here, Onoda-chan. I've.... lost. I've fuckin' lost, and there's nothing I need to do about it anymore."
"It's n-not your fault. It c-could have happened to anyone, you d-didn't know it would end up like this. You c-couldn't have known, pl-please, d-don't give up! Fukutomi-san is still trying as hard as he can, he still believes, he still believes he can--"
"Don't you see?" There was edge to Arakita's voice this time, surrounded by pain. "There.... isn't any point to giving a shit anymore, Onoda-chan. I tried." He closed his eyes back, and he was once again looking peaceful and reserved. Onoda felt his heart break in half, and he slowly let go of his grip on Arakita's shirt. "....I can fuckin' move on now.... y'know?"
Onoda breathed out tearless sobs for a couple moments, then he really did let out a--
Sluuuuushoop.
Fukutomi took his arm out of the soda machine, standing up straight, the cold can firm in his grasp. He looked at it, then to Arakita lying on the hot pavement, then back to the can. "I got it out."
"FUCKING FINALLY."