Nowhere Haven

About Something Left Untold

There is one truth in every lie. None other than the spectator would notice, and so, the act continues. Walking. Talking. 

Oliver froze in shock. The sudden confession crashed into the room like a missile, and left him him scrambling for both words and actions. Kazehiki didn't avert his eyes off the window and sighed. It was a heavy, sad sigh that sent chills down their spines. Oliver has been waving off Kazehiki dozens off times, assuming that he was nothing more than a clueless observer, but those assumptions got crushed all at once.

"What—you were..." Oliver's voice trailed off at his loss for words. Kazehiki didn't react, visibly lost in thoughts.

"I almost lost an important person just because of it."

Kazehiki looked back at Oliver and his eyes said more than words could ever encompass. Oliver pressed his lips together at the sudden shift in atmosphere. He could barely recognize the person sitting in front of him. Kazehiki always had a—more or less subtle—cocky attitude embedded in his way of talking, but there was no sight of it now.

"My sister once was in the same situation," Kazehiki sighed, "We—well, family and her friends—kept trying to tell her that her husband is a horrible person but she never listened. She always took his side, no matter how sad and stressed out she was."

A weak smile crept up on Kazehiki's face, as if he was reliving the moment but it wore off quickly, and left place for a pained frown.

Oliver stayed silent. Not only was he curios enough to want to hear the end of the story, but he also wasn't sure how to react otherwise. There was a faint urge to return his friend's gesture by giving him a short hug, but the thought fled quicker than he could fully grasp it. He wasn't quite comfortable with any kind of reassurance, and he felt bad that he was not guilty for having a friend that was comforting him but not feeling the need to do the same.

His attention curved back to the present. Kazehiki stood up and put their empty cups in the sink. His hands swept over the cupboard above and suddenly he returned with a glass of water. Oliver wanted to light up the mood with the sudden lack of hospitality when Kazehiki stumbled and missed the chair, causing a loud crash to ring through their ears. However, his eyes wouldn't look up and Oliver couldn't even blame him—he himself felt miserable when he had opened up about Fukase.

"It took so much for her to notice that she could no longer stay. And it took even longer for her to recover from what she's been through."

Oliver was facing Kazehiki's back but the words invaded and nestled in his mind as if they were whispered right into his ear. There was no solid picture that came to mind when imagining the situation. In fact, Oliver couldn't even make out how his Kazehiki's sister would look like. Siblings usually look alike, but there wasn't a specific feature he could orientate himself on; Kazehiki just had a face that wasn't to replicate.

Either way, Oliver wasn't quite convinced yet, and he didn't bother to conceal it. Whether it was the lack of information Kazehiki clearly wasn't ready to give or the vague wording, something about the situation made it harder for him to sympathize in any way. 

He was about to interrupt as Kazehiki sat back down. His expression has not changed but his motions were less stiff. He beamed a quick apologetic smile and continued where he left off.

"It's been a horrible time for her and everyone around her. All of that could have been avoided if only we would have done something sooner or she wouldn't have been so stubborn."

Oliver wasn't sure what exactly happened, but there was a shift in Kazehiki's eyes. Once so vulnerable, they were now beaming with determination—just the way he was used to seeing them.