The next few days aren’t what Ayn thought they would be.
It seems like Mori did in fact stick to his promise of simply accompanying Ayn. He doesn’t push for Ayn to go outside or to be more active. Though he’s quiet and soft-spoken most times they’ve talked, his gaze looks genuine whenever they come across Ayn’s face. Sure he had said that he wouldn’t push or force Ayn to do anything but he’d assumed that the man was just lying (Though he doesn’t know what would even be the purpose of him lying to someone as pitiful as Ayn.)
After the first three days, Ayn had completely assumed that Mori’s front would begin breaking apart. Soon he’ll begin pushing and forcing Ayn to “get better” so he can stop coddling and wasting his time on someone so tiresome and spiritless. At least that had been what a few people in his life did whenever Ayn slightly opened the door. Once they realized that there was no benefit in standing next to someone like him or when they realized that he had no intention of getting “better” despite their pushing, they quickly turned their backs. The first time had hurt but he grew numb to it as time progressed. It had already become a fact in Ayn’s mind.
People leave and then that’s where human connections end. Whether it was those friends or his parents, they were all the same.
It would’ve been so much easier if Mori was the same, though he isn’t completely passive either. At times when Ayn finds himself tethering at the edge, the man would try to talk to him about mundane things that Ayn finds himself responding to. When Ayn stared at his drawer of kitchen knives for a good few minutes, the man would lock the drawers behind his back or even hide the sharp objects, only returning them once Ayn stepped away from the mental cliff.
On the third night, Mori picked up the broken pieces of Ayn’s VR gear. The man is, as usual, silent. He doesn’t say anything about why Ayn broke the device or why there are specks of blood dotting the pieces of metal. Ayn hadn’t lifted a finger, simply sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, watching the man carefully clean up the floor and the drops of blood. He had asked him then, “When will you get tired of this?”
Mori had looked slightly taken aback by the question. That had been the first time Ayn spoke to him ever since they saw each other for the first time. Ayn hadn’t been expecting much of an answer but against his expectations, Mori had smiled. A genuinely kind smile that a destructive part of Ayn wanted to get rid of.
As he threw away the last bits of the broken device, he said, “Not today.”
A simple straightforward answer. Where one would try to explain their actions and fill it up with nonsense bullshit that would get Ayn rolling his eyes, he (reluctantly) admits that…he liked that answer.
It’s not like Mori is a patient saint either, even though his actions can only be done by one. Ayn hadn’t been lying when he said that he was a difficult person most of the time. At the end of the week, he found himself huddled underneath the bed covers, feeling the familiar suffocating fabric blocking the oxygen. When the man tried to gently persuade him to let in more air, Ayn snapped and screamed at him to go away. It’s not the first time he's done that.
When he heard the man sigh exhaustedly, he’d assumed that this would’ve been the end. The man had lasted a week but soon he would leave Ayn behind as well and they wouldn't see each other again.
Yet, there he was again the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the days after that.
“Your usual. Three Xl-sized packs of instant black coffee. Also got you a cup of one.”
“Thanks.” Ayn grabs the cup from Mori and warms up his hands through the remaining heat left in the cup. He takes a small sip, sighing a little at the warm feeling it gives and the bitter taste in his mouth. Mori looks at him with a shake of his head. The man had ordered a cup of milk tea for himself. “I can’t believe you’re not dying from that.”
Ayn shrugs and sets the cup down on the kitchen counter. “I don’t like sweets. And I need it for work.” Well, it isn’t like he particularly likes coffee either but the caffeine is something he craves.
“Another all-nighter?”
Ayn shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. Of course, it’s another all-nighter, Mori forgot that Ayn is a freelancer who prefers working from midnight until the early hours of the morning. “6 AM is the best time to fall asleep,” he’d said to Mori when asked about his nasty sleeping habits. Though it is concerning, Mori refrained from intervening or giving his opinion where it isn’t wanted or needed.
As Ayn picks up the box Mori bought alongside the groceries and examines it closely, the man takes the time to study him. It’s been a few weeks now since he started coming over to the lonely apartment. Every time, he tries his best to uphold his promise not to disturb Ayn but that doesn’t mean that he’ll just enable him. So far he’s done an okay job at taking care of the gloomy man without getting complained about. Buying groceries, cooking up daily meals, and cleaning the small apartment here and there when the mess got too big. It hasn’t been peaceful but Ayn seems content enough with how things are. As long as Mori respects the boundaries Ayn has set, he really doesn’t complain much.
Now that he’s spent a lot of time near Ayn, Mori has begun to pick on the finer details of the young man’s personality. Like his virtual persona, Ayn is intelligent, resourceful, and crafty. But, compared to Ai’s more passive personality, his real self is blunt, stubborn, and cynical. While his elf character gives off a gentle and polite impression, Ayn clicks his tongue, rolls his eyes, and sneers. The young man had unhealthy eating and sleeping habits, had dark bags under his eyes, and hated the sunlight (Mori tried to open the blinds once but got an earful from Ayn). He wears loose and casual clothes and often sits with his legs crossed. The two couldn’t be more different yet they are the same.
“You got one of the coffees wrong,” Ayn scowls, staring at the instant milk coffee box with a disgusted look. The young man unceremoniously throws the box into the grocery bag before gathering the black coffee ones in his arms.
“I’m going to my room. Don’t bother me.” Ayn says flatly before disappearing into his cave, the door closing firmly behind him followed by the sound of the lock turning.
Strangely, Mori’s gotten used to Ayn’s real personality over time. Though it may seem like he was rude and inconsiderate, Mori is willing to accept that over the young man fading away into nothing in silence listlessness. For now, Ayn is talking, reacting, and expressing himself. For now, that’s okay.
