The silence is heavy and long. The cityscape flies by outside the window like a dream, as if all this movement is happening to someone else. Inside, it feels like time stands still.

When Yukimura moves toward him, Akaya stiffens, keeping his eyes locked on his all the while. Yukimura’s hand reaches for him, brushing his face, his lips. He hasn’t felt his touch in a long while, but he can never forget what it was like. Even something as simple as this feels like a jolt beneath his skin. Akaya furrows his brow as he feels his lip tremor just a little. His body, it seems, reacts of its own volition.

His hand reaches out and grabs the hem of Yukimura’s shirt by his hip. He doesn’t know if he means to shove him away to pull him closer.