Tristan had put two spare sets of clothes in his bag. The books and notes he had to study didn't fit, so he stuffed them into a spare backpack. He'd been told as a child that learning would weigh less heavy in life than work, in an attempt to get him to study, but the bag in his hands made a rather commendable effort to prove that sentiment wrong. With a grunt he slung it over his shoulder. The force of the weight nearly toppled him toward the opposite direction. He hopped on one leg, before regaining his balance. Since there was nobody around to see his clumsiness, he had to be embarrassed for himself.

It didn't take very long for Kazuo to arrive, and he'd expected as much, knowing Hibiki's penchant for impatience. When the bell rang, he quickly put on his gloves and threw his scarf around his neck, before answering the intercom.

"I'll be there in a second."

"Understood." The response was muffled through the old and rather flimsy connection, but the accent was unmistakably Japanese. For a moment he lingered at the intercom, not sure about what he should do next. He didn't want to be stressed, and he especially didn't want Hibiki to know he was stressed – but his breaths had gotten narrow.

So he took his inhaler from his bag, and drew a single, deep breath of medicine. As deep as he could manage. Still he hurt; it felt like he was broken, mismade in some way, and even the prospect of seeing Hibiki couldn't mitigate that – only ease it. It's just a bad day. I'll get through it. He's right… I shouldn't be alone tonight… With another deep breath he scraped together every bit of motivation he could find. It was enough for a sliver of excitement to shimmer through the dark fog that befell his mind.

The drive to Hibiki's apartment was spent in relative quiet; Kazuo had asked the standard polite questions of how things were going, and he had answered reasonably honest and kind, albeit lacking in energy. Once that was out of the way, neither spoke. Kazuo because he picked up on the mood and didn't want to impose, and Tristan because it was his sullen mood to begin with. The rain and grey, dull skies didn't aid much.

As the car drove into the well lit parking garage, he saw Hibiki stand in the corner. It appeared he had rapidly thrown a coat on over his hoodie and sweatpants, but at that point Tristan was just glad to see him – until he remembered why he was there in the first place. A wave of guilt drowned the joy, and instead he sank down slightly into the seat.

It wasn't as if Hibiki cared much for his shame though, smiling widely and darting over. So then he just felt guilty for not answering that enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to avoid it, the same part that had wanted him to be alone and get tangled in his sorrows, but then there was that pull in his heart that made him surface from the darkness in his mind. It made him open the car door, after some delay, and instead he chose to be close. He was pulled in for a short but tight hug. The weight against his chest and Hibiki's arms around his waist was comforting, reminding him that his fears were at their core nothing but lies.

Hibiki dismissed Kazuo immediately after, with the usual nonchalant hand wave – his other arm still held Tristan’s waist. Kazuo responded by giving a polite bow of his head, and then said a single word in Japanese as confirmation. When he looked back up again, Hibiki followed up with another gesture, and although Tristan couldn’t tell what it was, Kazuo’s slight smile and grateful nod told him it was probably a sign of thanks. He didn’t get much of a chance to interpret the moment however, as Hibiki grabbed his sleeve and began to pull him with. In an attempt to be nice, he quickly raised his hand toward Kazuo.

“Thank you for the ride.” He had to speak louder to be heard, already several yards away. His response was the same as it had been for Hibiki: enough for Tristan to be sure that the expression of gratitude wasn’t unheard, or unaccepted.

Once they had gone upstairs, Hibiki dragged him past the bodyguards, preemptively flipping them off so that they wouldn’t ask questions or hold them up. In passing, Tristan gave an uncomfortable glance at the guard – a man he had seen once or twice now, but didn’t know the name of. But then the door fell closed behind them. Hibiki didn’t give him the time to worry about what to say or do. A second hug, tighter and longer than the first one, had the clear intended to make him forget all his woes. He just let it happen, neither willing nor wanting to be anywhere else.

The embrace also spoke a quiet concern, the strength and intensity betraying a fear on Hibiki’s side.

“I’m sorry I worry you so much.” Tristan admitted as he laid his forehead against Hibiki’s shoulder, leaning into the hug. He felt a hand on his head pat him a few times, his fingers ran through his hair.

“I know it doesn’t bother you, but I promised to be better. It's just too much… I can't do it.” He shook his head, and grabbed Hibiki’s shoulders with both hands. "Not now…"

A slight, uncontrollable tremble ran through him as he glanced up, not knowing what he would find in Hibiki's expression. Part of him was scared to see disdain, and disapproval for how weak he was. But instead there was no judgement: there was only care and concern in those black eyes.

Two strong hands moved to his shoulders, and then up over his neck to find the nook right below his jaw. The pressure caused another tinge of fright, not from his own weakness, but because he felt vulnerable. He flinched instinctively, more used to pain than being comforted. Immediately Hibiki's hands pulled away, and while the short burst of adrenaline and stress made him breathe heavy and his heart pound, he also saw fear in Hibiki.

He closed his eyes, trying to let everything subside. For a moment he just stood against the wall breathing, the silence intense and heavy with emotions neither of them fully had control over.

"I'm sorry… it's not you." With his gaze down at Hibiki's feet, he shook his head. "It wasn't so bad I'm just… I…" A heavy, stressed whine escaped him, little more than mental anguish pushed past his clenched teeth – because there was no language left to express what he felt.

Once more he began to shake, memories clawing at the edges of his mind, and the pain made it difficult to think. The back of his throat was sore, he couldn't swallow or breathe, and every rib tightly squeezed his pounding heart. It ached to the point of tears, and although he fought it, he felt the warmth roll down his cheeks.

A hand was placed on his waist, cautiously testing how far it could go. Part of him flinched, but he didn't want it to go away either, so he placed his own hand onto it and kept it there forcing his body to get used to it. All the while he struggled with his tears. Blindly he grabbed Hibiki, needing to close this distance. This time he felt Hibiki tighten up, but even though he felt sorry, knew he was a mess, he had to hold on to something – because at the same time he let go of everything else.

He didn't fight himself any longer, and that meant he cried. Truly cried. No stifled sobs. No resistance to his memories. Waves of feelings he wasn't able to describe rushed past, and then eased. Some fast – some only went by after what felt like ages. He scraped past sharp thoughts at the very bottom of his mind, and was broken against his own mental walls. And still, there was a sense of catharsis to being swept away in the safety of someone else's arms.

He shouldn't be alone, and he wasn't alone. Just scared. Just exhausted. But somehow that was okay; now he knew he'd live through the depths of his own mind.

Slowly he pulled away, leaving only his forehead resting against the top of Hibiki's chest. Bit by bit his surroundings trickled in: his own heaving breaths, his fingertips caught in the soft fabric of Hibiki's hoodie. The strong grasp of Hibiki's arms around his lower back, preventing him from falling down. The rise and fall of Hibiki's breaths, which also seemed faster than usual.

"Thank you." The mumble nearly got lost, but he knew Hibiki heard it because he responded with a kiss against the side of his head.

It made him tremble, and smile, and he just let a few more tears roll through out of sheer gratitude – out of happiness that he had finally found somewhere safe. He gripped on a little tighter, wordlessly asking if he could stay. A hand weaseled up through that tight embrace, onto his cheek. Hibiki's thumb erased all the tears left, and then he was pulled back in against his chest.