Silence is Golden

Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread

"Usagi-san, I'm home!" The door clicked softly behind him as Misaki entered the large house. He noticed as he took off his shoes that the house was dark, all of the lights completely extinguished. As he entered into the living area, he started to get confused. Not even the light to Usagi-san's office was on, and he usually kept it alive so that he wouldn't have to stumble around in the dark when he worked late. The only reason he would turn it off is if he left the house.

The room was illuminated by coppery golden rays of low sunlight coming in through the French windows, but despite that fact, the house felt rather dead. A buzzing silence bounced off the high ceiling and walls, returning back to Misaki's ears as soon as it left them.

"Maybe he went out for cigarettes..." Removing his bag from his shoulder and setting it down on the couch, Misaki yawned and began looking for some kind of note. Usagi-san never left without leaving one. Walking around, checking each kitchen surface for some sort of indication of where he went off to, Misaki found nothing. Frowning, he began to get worried.

"Usagi-san?" Misaki called out into the dead air. All was silent.
As Misaki removed his jacket, he turned around towards the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs slashed through the reticence. Misaki reared back in fear, his heart thundering against his chest; his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to try to call out to Usagi-san again, but not a sound came out. He stood frozen, a chill running down his spine before his body was devoured by the burning sensation of his fear. Gripping the couch until his knuckles turned white, Misaki slowly backed into the kitchen, trying desperately not to make a sound.

Slowly opening a drawer and grabbing the sharpest knife he could find, Misaki tried to focus on steadying his ragged breathing.

With the size of the house, the popularity and money, and the recklessness that came with sharing a house with Usami Akihiko, coming home to an unknown person hiding in the upstairs rooms had always been a fear of Misaki's. Stepping softly, his socked feet hardly making a sound, Misaki feared that if anything, the burglar would hear his rapid heartbeat.

Making it to the stairs, Misaki climbed slowly, his knife pointed out in front of himself. The darkness of the house grew thicker with each passing moment, the Sun's rays failing then morphing into dusk, and it only served to fuel his fear. As his feet touched the top floor, he almost wished he had turned around and left when he had the chance.

Coming from his own room, rustling could be heard followed by another soft thump. His body began to tremble as he stopped dead in his tracks.

Was this it? Was this how he was going to die? Misaki knew that despite grabbing the kitchen knife, there was no way he could actually stab another human's flesh. The thief would have cut him down first, assuming that he didn't have a gun.

A creaking sound echoed throughout Misaki's mind, his hands now trembling to where he could barely hold the knife without wielding with both hands, pointed toward the shut door. Footsteps followed; Misaki's heart almost stopped as the hinges creaked and a thin, faint line of light shined through the crack. Then a silhouette of a man came into view.

He stood tall, towering over Misaki even despite the fact that he looked hunched over. The man didn't notice him there as he stood breathing hard, almost to the point of passing out. The man stood looking out into the darkness before turning away from him, towards the other end of the balcony.

With a light click, light suddenly flooded into the space, banishing all of the darkness and with it, Misaki's fear. Before him stood a bedraggled, dead looking, slightly swaying Usami Akihiko. With a wave of relief washing over him, the knife slipped out of Misaki's hands, alerting the silver haired man.