Silence | Book 1

2-11: Promise

'I spent most of my youth in a mental institution. I was a very disturbed child, the only reason I'm normal now is because I had a great psychiatrist. But mostly I just want to forget about that time? My family still thinks I'm crazy. Sometimes I feel like I still am.'

Surprised to learn that, Tristan looked back up at Hibiki who to him appeared like any other ordinary person devouring a hamburger, and then down at the message. He tried to join the image of Hibiki in a mental health patient uniform together with the real one, but found it nearly impossible to see him like that.
"That's fine." He said softly to break the silence. "I mean, not that you feel like that but... I enjoy being friends with the you that you are now? I don't think you're mad at all."
Hibiki looked up from his burger and smiled slightly, before nodding gratefully. While he took his phone back to type, Tristan softly voiced his thoughts, trying his best not to fiddle with an unused fork.
"You know, it's actually a little reassuring? Knowing that I'm not alone with these issues."

'Trust me when I say you're not so bad.'

Tristan smiled, but the message didn't entirely reassure him, now wondering what Hibiki did to warrant such heavy measures.
"Why were you in there?" He asked softly, hoping that he wouldn't mind. Instead he saw Hibiki stare down at his plate for a long second, eyes darting between thoughts only he could see. Until he appeared to snap out of it and looked up again with a smile. Quickly he typed out a response.

'I don't think now is a good time to talk about it. For today I'd like to forget about it, and maybe you should too? Let's talk about fun things instead.'

Part of him felt somewhat sad that he wasn't told, wondering if he wasn't trusted with that information, or if it was something extremely awful – what if he's a psychopath? Or a murderer? Only to remember that Hibiki had been kind with him for all of his issues, instead of assuming the worst. It made him feel guilty for even considering those things.
A big, golden coloured chip entered his vision, and he realised he'd let his thoughts drift off for far too long. Slightly surprised he took the chip from Hibiki and looked up at him.

He found that same hopeful smile that had been there when he had asked him with for this very lunch, and once more he saw the vulnerability behind it; the worry and fear he tried to hide. It only made Tristan feel more guilty, realising he had shared something so very personal, and he had immediately brushed it off as him being some sort of evil maniac.
"It's really fine..." He began, trying to collect his thoughts into words that made sense. "I understand. We can talk about anything else if you feel more comfortable with that." He said while he dipped the chip in some of Hibiki's ketchup, and plopped it in his mouth. He saw Hibiki's expression light up, the fear dissipating and instead replaced with the usual warmth and giddiness.
It reminded Tristan of that very first evening, of those bubbly, drunken giggles – of the hug he had brushed off as just another intoxicated antic. It didn't seem all that strange now, in hindsight. But another part of that memory struck elsewhere than his empathy; the thought of how warm he had been, of his weight against his chest, the sensation of cloth caught between their bodies, even the smell of alcohol, of wet grass and dirt, the faint hint of cologne and sweat and skin: he enjoyed it. It felt as if a string had been wound tight around his waist and attempted to pull him back to that moment; a warm, nearly unpleasant sensation overwhelmed him.

'Are you okay?'

Hibiki had noticed his strange behaviour as well, and being called out on it caused his heart to start pounding in his chest. The surge of adrenaline from being caught in an undesired thought was enough to make him focus on the here and now again. The warm sensation eased, but was not entirely gone.
"Yeah I er..." he racked his mind trying to think of an excuse, but it was so full with all his other thoughts that he couldn't find his words in the mess.