Mizuki Sayeko had never been fond of the whole 'soulmates' concept, not when her past warned her of the side-effects of falling too deep into the lucid, hypnotising trap. With piercing gazes, a stone-cold heart, would her soulmates ever get through...
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SHE HIDES, YOU SEE? Not because she wanted to, but simply because she learned that was the safest thing to do when she didn't feel safe. Few realised the trust and faith Mizuki felt for bearing herself to them, so shy and fragile. She had been abandoned by the one she needed the most, left in a world too complicated for her to understand. When emotions started unravelling in her mind and fear allowed the darkness to consume her, the little girl hid away, and the strong, stoic woman protected her with reality and logic. Fiercely she protected that little girl, for it was the light of her very soul.
But now...now Mizuki was ready to shed off some of the built-up tension.
"Keiji," she called. "Do you think I could talk to you?" The said male looked over at the girl in slight worry, taking note of how her fingers rubbed over the knuckles of her hand, a feat she did whenever she was incredibly nervous or anxious.
"Of course." He followed her out of the living room, Kuroo sending the two a concerned look. Kenma and Bokuto were too occupied with their game, furiously pressing on the remote controller's buttons. "What is it?" Akaashi asked as they made their way to the stairs, plopping down on one of the steps (neither were bothered to walk all the way up to Bokuto's room).
"Do you remember the time when we first properly talked? In the music room?" Akaashi nodded. "And I told you how I felt?"
"About the fear?"
Mizuki bit her lip, her knee bouncing up and down faintly. "I don't think those feelings are gone. I try to open up, I really do. I want to complete our bond; I want to be apart of this fully–" she inhaled sharply, struggling to string together her words–"but there's something stopping me, and I don't know what it is."
Things had been going so smoothly, but somewhere along the way, Mizuki was swept into the chaos that was her mind. Doubts encompassed her, spreading across her body, intertwining with her veins, merging with her cells and almost becoming one with her.
Mizuki struggled tremendously. She could not leave things be. Her mind churned with permutations of what happened and what could happen. She was terrified of everything: of the gentle touches, the sweet words, the reassuring gazes. What would happen when they disappeared one day? What would happen to her?
Akaashi listened silently, absorbing her vulnerable words, assimilating them.
He couldn't help the laugh that slid through his thin, plump lips.
Mizuki paused, frowning. "What's so funny?"
"Gomen, gomen," he said, a soft smile on his lips, "but I think you've put your expectations too high, Mizuki. You don't always have to be complete with us; we're not always complete with each other. We're each our own person with our own lives. We share moments together, yes, and we may hang out with each other all the time, but at the end of the day, I am Keiji, and they are themselves. Just like you are Mizuki. We're different people."
