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“Hey, what’s up with you?” Vox stood up at the start of seeing Ike quickly walk through the break room.
“Hey.” Ike only greeted solemnly continuing with their task for the shared kitchen cupboard.
“I asked what’s up with you. You haven’t spoken all morning with me while I was trying to get your attention. Are you ignoring me?”
When Ike didn’t answer Vox walked towards Ike and pulled at his arm to make him face him. Ike was clever to catch himself from screaming from the sharp pain he felt in his arm, but it didn’t stop the hiss that escaped the back of his teeth when they clenched together.
Worried, Vox let go. “I didn’t mean to be so hard.”
Ike too quickly responded, “You weren’t”. He held on to his arm a bit.
“But, wasn’t I? Let me see it.” Vox could sense Ike would protest so he quickly and firm, while gentle, opened Ike’s inner sleeve to check for bruises. There were none. In all of his 400 plus years of living there has been nothing that this demon hasn’t seen when it comes to the breakdown of humans. He’s seen even the strongest man fall. How did he manage to be so shocked with the injuries on his secret beloved’s arm. He was silent as he continued to pull up more on the sleeve to reveal more.
Ike looked furious and embarrassed. You could see a gloss graze his eyes looking right under Vox’s face. “It was an accident.” He knew the lie was pitiful, but he couldn’t just say the truth. He just wanted out of Vox’s grip and to go home. Of all the people to see this, why did it have to be him?
“An accident? Ike, this doesn’t look like an accident. An accident is when there is a scratch in the most unconventional and most weirdest way, deep or shallow. These don’t look like an ‘accident’. What they do look like is a fight. It looks like a fight with your mind that accidentally turned physical. A mental accident. Ike, did you have a mental accident?”
A mental accident? Is that the best thing to call this sporadic taunting anxiety that plagued his head so strong and unforgiving? At the end of the day Ike isn’t the type of person to take the pain out on themselves. Especially, not that type of pain. So much for preaching about being one with your feelings and troubles.
No. He was only able to get that far because of “Ek-“ when Ike decided to say ‘his’ name out loud a phantom like being covered his mouth.
‘As much as I’d love to have you brag about your suffering being caused by me alone, I’m going to need you to keep my name out of my mouth as of now.’ After speaking an intense aura came from Ike’s own body, but instead of it going outward it sunk in deeper. It went into his bones, in his blood, in his soul, caging him to keep his mouth shut of the banned name and memory, Eki.
It’s like Ike forgot what he was going to say and reassessed what was going on around him. Ike continued to look down before his whole body fell with it going towards Vox.
Vox was quick to catch his cherished friend, to console him as Ike’s heart cried. How stupid was Vox to not see that his friend who he claims to love much more than was hurting?
While Ike cried he kept saying how he was sorry. He was sorry to let his frustrations get to him this way. He was sorry for keeping it inside of himself that it got to this point. Ike just knows the type of person people see him as. The type of person Vox sees him as. He didn’t want that image to be destroyed, but here he is in what could be the possible worst case scenario.
Vox got out of his stunned phase of Ike’s horribly wrong words. As much as it pained him he pulled Ike away from him to make sure that Ike was seeing him clearly, so he could truly understand him. “I don’t want you to ever apologise for hurting again. No, look at me. Ike.”
Ike was hesitant to bring up his head. He didn’t want to. How could he face him?
“Ike.” Vox said again being calm, but more stern.
Ike rose his head. Vox then placed his left hand onto Ike’s head to make sure he doesn’t look away again, keeping his other hand on Ike’s corresponding shoulder.
“Listen well. Ike Eveland, don’t you ever apologise for hurting. Don’t you ever apologise for being human. Ike, you know that this,” he moved his hand down to the top of Ike’s bicep continuing its way stopping at the top of the highest scar. “This could be dangerous. I’m only upset because you didn’t think to tell me that you were hurting. You can’t always figure out everything on your own. That’s one of the reasons why people have friends. Especially dear friends. No one expects their friends to be perfect. You inherently sign up to listen and care for your friend when the time comes.
“You should know this better than anyone with the many times that you’ve talked with me or perhaps any and/or everyone in Luxiem and Nijisanji. Do you think you’re too good to need help, Ike Eveland? Because I assure you, you’re not. I’ll be damned from this day forward if I don’t remind you everyday that you don’t handle the bad alone. I admire you. You know that. I always will. Being in pain would never blemish that image. Telling me about it will only make me admire you more. Anyone would be a fool to not. Am I making myself clear?”
Ike felt foolish a second time today. For an author he really forgets the character of his friends when it comes to how they help him. He forgets his own character to gaslight himself to think he needs to be a god. What a load of main character syndrome. Vox Akuma is truly his beloved friend, who would probably reign hell fire on earth if Ike needed it. Even though he would never understand why, he knows that Vox would, so why wouldn’t he be there while he’s in a bad place.
This time after another sniffle Ike stared at Vox as he apologised. “I’m sorry, Vox. I’m sorry for not telling you. It’s just so hard to open up.”
“I understand that it’s a hard thing to do, but is tearing yourself apart easier?” Vox asked with a worried face. Vox didn’t wait for an answer and scanned Ike’s wounds again.
“These haven’t even scabbed and you’re only holding them together with a long sleeve shirt. Did you even disinfect them?” Vox immediately went to look through the first aid kit in the back of the kitchen cabinet and took out an ointment and bandages.
“Th-they’re not bleeding anymore.” Every word was lower and lower because Ike never thought he would address such a thing in public. It feels shameful.
“That doesn’t stop room for infection.” Vox spoke almost like a school nurse or a mother helping a child from a wound they caught while playing too rough outside. He was straightforward only meaning well.
“You don’t have to do anything. I can fix it myself.”
“No. Think of this as a punishment for not telling me sooner. Your punishment for whenever you feel broken or close to it will be me there helping you pick up the pieces.”
Ike didn’t have the energy to protest. He just stared and watched as Vox dabbed ointment on every individual scar.
As Vox was placing the ointment starting from all of his forearm down he couldn’t help but stop midway. He leaned closer to Ike’s arm in a trance. He could hear his name be called out but it sound muffled, so he didn’t mind it. On one of the bare marks he left a kiss. It was to plant a wish to heal the one he loves.
He didn’t notice the stream of tears that silently rolled down his own eyes. He continued with the ointment before wrapping the gauze.
Never in this author’s life has he ever seen the voice demon cry.