Chapter 72: Sliver of Glow

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While Tsukishima was sound asleep, the girl on the other side of the globe- at America to be specific, finally arrived at the Yamamoto estate, the manor looked lavish as always, though it seemed bigger than she imagined. Somehow, the exterior of the manor triggered her, seeing a flash of black and white before shaking it off, continuing to head towards the entrance with one of the men in suits carrying the luggage for her. Mallow followed soon after, panting excitedly at her new home and freedom after being trapped in an airplane.

It's even bigger inside, it was expected of a mansion. Sparkling chandeliers highlighted the expensive vases and the shiny marble floors. Maids lined up to her left and right, greeting her with bright smiles.

"Welcome back, Ayame-sama!" They all chorused in unison, bowing politely which threw her off a bit.

"No need to refer to me as sama...We're in America." She said, waving them off sheepishly.

"Oh, but we insist! We take pride in our Japanese culture in wherever we go!" One of the maids said, looking at her with admiration. Despite the foreign country, the whole household spoke native Japanese.

"We'll escort you to your room, Miss." One of the ladies said, giving her a warm smile as Ayame only nodded, trailing right behind her. She abruptly stopped in her tracks, her surroundings flashing black and white in her vision, making her wince.

"Are you alright, Ayame-sama? Would you like me to contact the family doctor?" The maid asked, looking at her in concern.

"No, it's just a headache," she lied, shaking her head, "it'll go away eventually."

The maid only nodded with uncertainty before continuing to walk her to her room, opening the door on the end of the hallway. It was way spacious: her bed was huge and lavish looking, though her room was barely decorated, only with sea shells from trips at the beach with her brother when she was a kid. Her lips curved to a nostalgic smile, though unfortunately the maid failed to witness her in a rare state.

"We didn't move a thing in your room." She said, grinning at her.

As Ayame looked at the shards of sea shells (she collected both the shattered ones and undamaged ones as a child), another black and white image flashed. This time, it was more vivid, a fleeting, monochromatic picture of her father looming over her, which was interrupted by the maid's worried voice.

"Ayame-sama, are you sure you don't need a doctor...?" The maid asked before exiting the room.

"Yeah. I'm sure." She reassured, diving on the the bed with a soft puff. Mallow followed soon after, spinning in a small circle before settling herself on the foot of her bed. Rich folk bed definitely feels way more satisfying than regular bed, she noted to herself. She tossed herself around, facing the window that was covered in dark velvet curtains. The dark hue was the last thing she saw before her eyelids drooped down in exhaustion, falling in deep slumber.

...

Her peaceful sleep was only brief, though. Her breathing came out in shallow huffs before her body shot up, trembling with intensity from the nightmare. Her pupils dilated, reflecting a mixture of shock, fear, then shifted to relief as her breathing slowed down to a regular pace. As her eyes focused on her surroundings, she noticed that her apartment looked way more spacious, not to mention the bed which she laid down in felt like jelly, soft under her weight. It took her a couple of seconds to process her surroundings, with only one thought in mind.

Her nightmares came to life.

The shirt in which she wore from the trip ( as she was exhausted to the point of not bothering to change out of her clothes) was dank, the cold sweat pressing against her skin. She sighed, glancing at the vintage wall clock ticking rhythmically. Two in the morning. She found herself weird how after reading the time she immediately converted it into the timezone in Japan. Wondering how they were doing. How he was doing. She shrugged off her thoughts, deciding that a warm bath won't hurt anyone and will help her clear her mind.

...

The bathtub was nearly thrice the size she uses back at the apartment, so when she stepped into a warm pool of water, she expected it to be pleasant and roomy...but it did not feel like that at all. It's roomy, yes, but perhaps too roomy. Almost empty.

She did not bother opening her mouth and singing - it doesn't feel right. Even the most cheerful tunes can't lighten her mood. It was then she found herself drowning - not in water - but something far worse. She caught herself being self destructive, shaking her head as she muttered something under her breath. A tip given by Sugawara in times like these.

"Positive thinking...Positive thinking..." She said, rummaging through her thoughts. Dipping her face in the water - just underneath her nostrils she was able to think of a few:

1. No more water bills.

2. No more electricity bills.

3. No more college savings.

God, that jar of hers is enough to support for for at least three semesters. And now, it's all for nothing. Those yens hold no value, not in America, not anywhere, really. Oddly enough, even with the thought of financial stability can't seem to cheer her up. It had always been her number one priority - finances - Karasuno Volleyball Club goes on a close second...

Then separation from her friends shouldn't be that hard, right?

Wrong.

It seems that the bath did not help her at all. As she got up from the tub and rubbed herself dry with a towel, something shiny caught her eye. Small and sharp. She pursed her lips, reaching out to grab ahold of the blade and glanced at her right forearm. It's itching for the blade. For blood. For something that will release her frustration on.

"Clean for nine months..." She recalled, the blade centimeters off her skin, damp with the condensation droplets of the steam. A new record, breaking her old streak of two weeks. Should she aim for ten months? Eleven? A year? or is nine enough? A heavy sigh escaped her lips, reluctantly placing the blade back down with a light clink.

"Healthier alternatives..."

After pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a plain shirt, she settled herself by the bed, which was conveniently placed by the windows. Expecting stargazing to help her take her mind off somewhere else, perhaps an escape, she leaned her cheek against the palm of her hand on the windowsill. It would've been nice, as her room is on the top floor of the mansion, but the skies were only blanketed with darkness. Not a single spark of light. Which makes sense, living in a huge foreign city, Los Angeles California, the epitome of modern music and theartre. She certainly misses the skies of Miyagi. Rural and simplistic. Just how she likes everything.

She caught herself staring at the only source of light at the sky: the moon. It was only a tiny slit of faint glow, yet she couldn't help but gaze at it. There was something oddly alluring about it, amazing how a tiny glow can distract someone for an extended amount of time. It was then her mouth curved to the smallest of smiles. Moon. The Japanese term for moon.

"Tsuki..." She said, recalling the nostalgic memories. Those are now nothing but stories. He is nothing but a story now. The first training camp, kiss at InterHigh, the Summer Festival, or those lazy afternoons spent on the couch with him.

She recalled the shenanigans of taunting him into a wrestling match with her on the day of the Summer Festival. Specifically what the blonde had told her before they started the meaningless competition. But her smile was not one of happiness, but of damage:

We need a safety word. If you ever feel threatened or feel any pain at all, just yell out-

"...Strawberry." She whispered, not entirely sure who she was talking to. Perhaps she hoped that the moon would hear her, even if it's just a tiny sliver of glow. Maybe. Maybe it's just me being hopeful.

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