Track 3 Ft Izana Kurokawa (part Of The Campfire Stories Collection)

Track 3 ft izana Kurokawa (part of the campfire stories collection)

Izana is counting your breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

You're turned away from him, holding the duvet up to your cheek and wrapped around your fist like you're going to punch through a window. And he's watching your chest rise and fall, fast and shallow breaths because you've not been asleep for long and he knows you're always quiet when you do. Often, when he's late, he finds you under the covers and his heart will stop, or miss a beat because your chest hardly seems to move and your breath is near silent and then you'll stir or twitch as you're prone to do and he sighs in relief.

But this time, he's watching you, with his chest to your back and winding a finger around your hair, playing with the end as he listens hypnotically to the rhythmic undulation of your breathing. He's tracing the marks on your back, small birthmarks and old scars with a long finger till he reaches your tailbone and then pulls away to grab his phone from the nightstand.

When he sits up, you twitch again and he holds his breath as he watches you turn onto your stomach, the crown of your head now glossy with the light that spills in through the gap in the curtain.

Izana calls his last contact, one hand still resting on your back, his voice low and apprehensive.

'Hey,' Kakucho whispers, his own voice gravelly and rough and undulated with dryness. 'What's up? It's late.'

Izana clears his throat and Casts a glance to the slat in the curtain where an orange flare of light comes and goes as a car rolls past.

'Were you sleeping?' izana asks, keeping his voice low and quiet, a bare whisper above the faint hum of the heating chugging through the pipes.

'Yeah, sorta, but it's fine. What's wrong?'

'I....I need to ask you something.'

Kakucho sits up on his own side, and turns to flick on the bedside lamp, the bed cold and empty save for the duvet and a haphazardly thrown cushions on the bare bedspread.

Izana falters here. Because it's never been easy. And it's not easy now. When you're next to him, and so real under his hands, and kakucho is both his closest confidante, and he's surrounded by the two he .... Cares about.

'Yeah?'

Izana lapses into silence, weighs it on his tongue, his teeth coated in anxiety, a thick film that tastes of fear and salt.

'I....' He starts, his hand moving from your back to the bedspread, twisted in his hands as he pulls at the loose threads. 'I mean...she....there's something wrong.'

Kakucho's nerves flare to attention, and he's half a mind to grab his jacket and come straight over, ever the hero, ever the sacrificial lamb for his king. 'What? Is she sick? Shall I call a doct-'

'no no, not like that,' izana says, an ear trained on you and your soft and even breaths. 'She's uhm- she's- I think she's upset.'

'Huh? Did you have a fight?'

'No, no we didn't. She's just...I think there's something else.' and then, a whisper like a caress, said under his breath, like a secret he's afraid to divulge. 'I don't know what to do.'

Kakucho releases the tight breath in his chest and leans back against the headboard, fishing for a cigarette in the bedside drawer. 'Oh I see. Tell me what it is, I'll see if I can help.'

Izana frowns, more in confusion at himself than anything else, in difficulty at it all. 'She's....she seems sad a lot, and quiet recently. I tried to ask her what was wrong, and I tried to spend time with her, but it doesn't seem to work.'

'Ah. You're worried?'

'A bit.' After a pause. 'A lot really.'

'You think it's you don't you? That it's something to do with you?'

'I didn't....I didn't say that.'

'But you were thinking it. You were thinking about why she hasn't told you, or whether she doesn't trust you.'

Izana shifts uncomfortably and makes a sound from the back of his throat.

'It's fine you know. I've known you both long enough. I think I understand.'

'You understand?' and izana almost ends the call then, when you twitch and your legs brush his under the duvet, your soft thighs now rubbing against his for warmth. He strokes your neck absently, soft and gentle, the way you'd touch a butterfly without hurting the wings, marvelling at the softness of it under your touch. Sometimes he thinks of you like that. A thing whose wings he might break on accident, some slip of his hand that'll hurt you even if he doesn't intend you, because that's just what he is. A monster through and through. And you are so delicate, so good and wholesome and kind and so easily breakable that it's almost bound to happen.

'I do. I don't think you need to do anything though.'

'Huh? What do you mean?'

Kakucho taps the cigarette against his lips and takes a long drag, exhaling into the air where the whir of air con blows the smoke through the vents. 'I mean, it's not you. I think you just need to give it time, let her tell you when she's ready.'

'But she's upset-'

'I know. But you have to trust her. She probably doesn't want to bother you.'

'But it's not bothering me,' izana says, adamant, a twitch of defiance in his voice- to which kakucho can only chuckle in his chest.

'I know, but I think she assumes it does. So maybe remind her, tomorrow- you know, that you'll be there if she needs to talk.'

Izana cramps here. His chest constricting at the thought- at the show of vulnerability that that might entail because he's never been very good at the whole receiving and giving affection thing. If you asked, and even if you didn't, he'd carve out the world for you, and more. But you never seem to ask for anything and he often wishes you would. Be a little demanding, a little less compliant because it aches inside when he thinks of you being unhappy and swallowing it down for his sake. Like you're afraid to show anything to him that you think he doesn't want to see, like you can make that kind of decision for him.

'izana?'

Izana bites his lip, and his eyes fall on the way the duvet curls around your body, how soft and inviting it looks even now, moonlight drawing a finger across your skin, the curve of your arm and shoulder half hidden under the covers.

'I'm here. Just thinking.' And he clears his throat, again. A little lighter, a little more like he can sleep.

'you good?'

He has what he needs now, and it makes more sense than it did before. 'Yeah.' and then. 'Get some sleep kakucho.'

And kakucho takes that as his cue, understand the subliminal message underneath because izana is not half as complicated as he believes himself to be and get some sleep means thank you, means he appreciates it even if he refuses to mention it.

'Yeah. You too. I'll see you tomorrow.' Kakucho puts the phone down and the air con whirs, as it does.

Izana traces a finger along the curve of your ribs, counts them individually, along with your breath, before he slides into bed next to you, arms held tight and close around you with his lips finding the dip in your neck.

And counts your breath as he falls asleep.

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