#i initially never supported hanazawa to tashiro in a romantic setting but lately ive come to enjoy it

[hiranospiercing]

saturdays and hanazawa

and if there was something he and the humankind inexplicably shared with one another was the existential loneliness that came because of the solitude one shares with the sub-conscious, the thoughts that were rather radiation-like, something that he could feel on his tongue but never supporting his voice, something that stayed with him in his bones, even when surrounded by perhaps people with similar energy, who also kept their incomprehensible ideas on their skin, yet never talking about it, never mentioning it, running on the same circuit, hanazawa experienced suffocation that was perhaps tasted by everyone, maybe differing in the degree of that lonely suffocation but the thought kept him sane on saturday mornings when he did not have the opportunity to drown himself in the rather conscientious ritual he had been devoted to follow ever since he felt a hole in his heart.

he shared a rather familiar relationship with saturday’s, perhaps because it was one of helplessness, a relationship very similar to the one he shared with himself, though with practice and a pinch of pity he had came to master the art of avoiding the existence of both saturday’s and the acknowledgment of his helpless self, though something that had always been unavoidable were the questions, the questions about whether he had always been like this, questions about why was he a coward, why was he always running on the same circuit and why did he despise the helplessness, well helplessness was not a positive emotion to begin with, it was rather intuitive for him to come to hate it but why did he lack the confrontation, why did he never liked his own company when the sharp folds of his bedsheets could never be shared with anybody else, who do you share your loneliness with when you cannot seem to eat it yourself, saturday’s made him miserable.

hanazawa found himself the greediest amidst all the people he knew and he knew a lot of people, perhaps it was because of the curiosity he was born with or because of the dream that he had experienced one morning, where he found himself in a deserted bedroom, very similar to his own, where he sat with water streaming through his hands, where he continuously struggled to hold the water in his hands, and the water mocked him saying how he was excruciatingly stupid for trying to hold something he possibly could not, he remembered waking up with tears in his eyes, it was not surprising, after all saturday mornings usually greeted him with tears.

he was surprisingly immune to building new habits though it came with the curse of never being able to unlearn the older ones, and something he had recently mastered apart from agonizing over his haunting untouched back was how he had found himself making a round or two to the bathhouse tashiro worked where he was usually busy idling around, it was not necessarily a conscious decision but perhaps the fact that tashiro had always been an interesting person to observe, at times hanazawa felt as if he was a botanist and tashiro was that one rat he had grown weirdly fond of, if one was supposed to jot down their conversations, it would be weirdly simple, most of it was comfortable silence supported by remarks that made tashiro a little annoyed but it would usually end with hanazawa sharing a little bit of his subconscious with tashiro, on days they would talk about how atoms never completely touch each other and how if humans were made up of atoms they were practically prone to react to touches the way they do, and that conversation would end with him resting his back on his back and it would be a funny situation but comfortable, saturday’s made him a little less miserable at times.