Ariel- She/Her, Level 27 Check out my writing blog: @tonightweletitburn.... or don't who am I to tell you what to do 🤷♀️ this is 100% my shitposting blog, my fun blog if you will. its chaotic.
Insight: I had some writer's block the past few months and life has been a lot lately but one man got me through it all - Timeskip!Kazutora, the man that you are. There is no one in TR I love more than Kazutora and his growth as a character. He will forever be so special to me and I would wait 100 years for him if I had too and I guess re-reading Pet Sematary as an adult changed my perspectives on it. Get you a man who would do whatever it takes to bring you back to life - physically and mentally. Am I right ladies?
Description: Kazutora x fem!reader.
Your now ex partner cheats on you and so you move back to your hometown to regroup. Not fully realizing that your first love has been out of jail for sometime now, you run into him and decide to reconnect despite your better judgement. A walk down memory lane turns sour until it finally comes back to life, but has it changed?
Chapter One - "Battlescars, beartraps and the undead." 3.7k
Chapter Two - "Do you think our grandpa's knew?" 4.1k
Chapter Three - "Cats were the gangsters of the animal world." *Editing still in progress*
Chapter Description: A date 12 years in the making finally comes to fruition, but can you handle it? Or does nature have other plans for you?
Warnings Below Cut: This is NSFW. MDNI. *TR Plot Spoilers*
NSFW, smut, rekindled romance (so sick am I right?), established past relationship (Kazutora is your ex), cursing, semi graphic descriptions of bringing the dead back to life, poor mental health, mentions of jailtime, reader has little self worth, pet names (always gotta be Kazutora's pretty girl), descriptions of anger, sadness, suicide and loneliness, cheating (not you or Kazutora), the true nature of grandmas and smutty romance novels, crying & arguing, snippets from the past, mention of Baji's death (opsy!), crazy arcade sex, will continue to update as chapters release! And as usual, let me know if I missed anything.
Stephen King - “And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity.”
The man before you takes your actual breath away. Breathe in? Or out? You got to the coffee shop before he did and so you now have the misfortune of watching him approach the shop. Like a high definition tv, you can’t look away from the screen-like windows as he approaches in slow motion. The anticipation builds rapidly like some god damn romance movie meet cute.
The duo tones of his hair dance in the wind as his long legs carry him inside and over to where you are sitting. His stride is purposeful and confident. A part of you already regrets this, you’re barely holding on to the tiniest bit of confidence yourself and you haven’t even spoken to him yet. This is a lot more pressure than being on the phone. You should be upset with him for acting so cavalier about everything but it’s not like you’re being very real either.
Realistically, you shouldn’t be giving him the time of day at all. Even more realistically, you’re acting childish and you know it. You’re mad and upset about a break up that happened ages ago and he’s been dealing with a whole lot more than that. But you can’t help it, this over done romance movie you’re stuck in has you dying to give him a second chance. Reignite the flames of love or something.
What you should do is address the tension you’re feeling and at least get down to business. To wonder no more. Why did he leave you the way that he did? Why did he have to break you so carelessly? Why was his impact on your past life cause so much damage?
You’re drowning in what if’s and maybe’s and all you want to do is bring it to the surface so you can finally float in the water safely. To finally take a real, deep and refreshing breath of air. To finally drop the weight of all the rocks in your pockets so you don’t sink to the bottom. To finally save yourself before they have to drag the lake for you.
You’re a pushover though, and you always have been.
Maybe not so much a push over but more that you’re too trusting and always too hopeful to ever think badly of someone you care about. That’s probably why he liked you so much back in your grainy grey memories of that time.
You were easy. Easy going, easy to deal with, easy to talk too, easy to fall for, easy to appease and easy to diffuse.
Easy to believe, as if those cuts and bruises he always had really were in self defense. Easy to discard, easy to forget…Easily convinced because here you are.
The smile on his face is a soft one with only the slightest bit of somber elegance. You look up as he takes the seat across from you. His direct eye contact from each slowed movement effectively halts your thoughts of self deprecation and he has your full attention.
He speaks first, “Hey you.” You wish you could bite your lip but stop yourself before you respond with a shy and meek little, “Hey.”
Maybe your issues back then were what they were. You know you’ve grown since. You’ve learned to set boundaries and give less chances. You’ve learned to take people’s actions over their words. Unfortunately for you, you’re also human and just like his morning voice, you are not immune to the way he looks sitting in front of you. It’s as if the director of this fucking romantic movie casted the perfect timeskip version of the old ex boyfriend of your youth. Curated just for you...
His sense of style hasn’t changed much, always one for comfort over labels and you have to wonder if he is still cutting the tags off of his shirts. You try to gawk at him as discreetly as you can. The black turtle neck he’s wearing is absolutely doing him all the favors. “Need some caffeine? I could use a boost myself.” He says plainly while flipping through the menu and you take note of his slender fingers against the laminated paper.
“Always, you know I love my coffee. You feeling okay?” You question as you grab a menu yourself, a welcome distraction from the warmth that’s starting to stir in your guts. This lighting is also doing him all the favors. You’d rather keep drinking him in than order a coffee, the adrenaline hits just the same, if not more.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” He sets his menu down to look at you directly, “I can’t lie, I was a little nervous for our date.” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, stirring the earring he never takes off, tucking a thick blonde strand behind his ear. The chime of that damn earring was pavlovian.There has never been a sound out there quite like it.
It still catches you off guard when he shares his feelings with you so openly. This is something new for you both and so you try to return that same energy, speaking honestly, “I was nervous too. Let’s just order and take it slow.” You can almost see the anxiety wash away from him. His shoulders seem to relax. Somehow, it washes away your anxieties too despite your smart watch being only a few beats per minute away from warning you that your heart is in distress.
It’s hard not to think of the past with him, but it also feels like a real first date. Fuck it, you think, and order a large iced coffee anyway. Can’t break the tension without some ammo, can’t have a good first date if you don’t try.
Unaware of how much time has passed, you two blow through topic after topic. The sun has set and you two have watched patron after patron leave as you two still continue. Once the awkwardness wore off, you two could not stop the conversation, the laughs, the fun.
He is still so Kazutora but he wants to know everything about you, about where you’ve been and what you’ve seen. About how you’ve felt, about how you’ve grown.
You both agree that the book version of The Shining was much dirtier than you both remember now that you’ve both reread it as adults. Cartoons are not as funny as they used to be before 911. Anime was better back then, parks had more swing sets, and you both agree that you grew up at the perfect time before social media. The government is full is shit and people should love and marry whoever they want.
He is just as funny as you remember, just as lively, and it is truly astounding to hear how much he remembers little details about you. His questions probe more than the basic pleasantries because he used to know you and you can feel that he genuinely wants to know this version of you too.
Has he spent more time thinking about you than you have about him?
But that’s the thing right? He didn’t really leave you hoping that he was going to think about you like this. Truly, you’re on a roller coaster of emotion and your high starts to come down again, uneasy before the drop, until he speaks up.
“Do you wanna hear something funny?” Kazutora asks with a little bit of light in his voice, looking blankly into his empty mug, mood shifting into something more anxious - maybe he’s on a drop too. Trying to steer the conversation back to safer shorelines again, you utter a yes in agreement, also wanting a change in subject. You’ve never been an experienced sailor or a fan of roller coasters.
“I read a lot of books in jail, more than just The Shining.” It’s not actually funny, you’re both sad he was in that position at all, but you are delighted and surprised to hear that he kept himself busy doing something you both used to enjoy together. You also didn’t want to remind him of that time during this entire evening. It’s not your subject to bring up, nor the tension you need to address just yet.You’re surprised he can speak about it as casually as anything else tonight.
“That’s not funny, that’s actually amazing to hear. Got any new favorites?” You can’t help letting out a small chuckle, trying to picture this man with a huge neck tattoo in a cell reading books. He must have missed you enough to try or maybe that was better than doing nothing at all, you’d surely do the same. It’s getting hard for you to sit still. You fidget with your mug and then your ring. He’s anxious too but looks calm as a cucumber.
“The prison library was pretty abysmal. I could only re-read Treasure Island so many times.” He leans back and looks up, hesitant to make eye contact maybe, his long hair shifting on his shoulders and you take this chance to stare at him again. He is still so god damn pretty, aging into it fully and now his facial features are devastatingly handsome. The young delinquent you fell for all those years ago is all grown up and it’s still surprising to see in person every time you so much as glance in his direction.
“The real funny part about this is that no one ever donates any good books to prisons. Did you know that? The majority of the library was made up of older women’s romance novels and encyclopedias.” He says as a matter of fact, “I know a ton about animals now.” He runs a hand through the top of his scalp to scratch intently at it, looking like a model even in this dimly lit coffee shop. He finally looks back at you to assess your reaction.
“Wait wait wait, like the sexy, cheesy kind of romance books our grandma’s used to read? Like pirates and lumberjacks and shit? Are you serious?” His subtle declaration stuns you like he expected and he smiles an infectious smile that has your lips curling into one in return. Is he serious though? It stirs unholy thoughts within you and you have to shift in your seat slightly.
“As a heart attack. It kind of blew my mind at first, to think our grandmas were straight up reading porn like that. Knitting us sweaters, baking cookies and then spending their evenings reading about steamy love affairs. Do you think our grandpas knew?” He sets an elbow on the table and leans to rest his chin on his palm. The view of it was devastating to your psyche, like he was a celebrity posing for a new cologne.
Maybe it was the topic at hand but you were starting to feel hot and bothered, feelings that were not on your bingo card for tonight. Feelings that you should not be having about this man at this current point in time.This is also new for you both. You feel an almost primal surge of desire more decadent than your sweet caffeinated beverage. If it was any other first date, you would have broken your rules and taken him home with you by now.
You’ve missed him so much that it physically hurt at first. It became a permanent part of you for so long. Like a bone that broke and didn’t quite heal correctly and so for years and years you learned to live with it broken, separated from the trap and scarred forever. It was all you knew and all you had.
“Hard to say. I can’t imagine our grandmas reading those kinds of books out loud like we used to together.” Your tone drops, losing confidence as you try to process all the different feelings that are bubbling within you, focusing even more on your hands and your favorite ring. A part of you still can’t believe this is happening and you went from nervous to horny in a matter of one evening? Who even are you?
This is Kazutora, your first love, your first everything and he’s really here making jokes about dirty books and looking at you like you were an overpriced baked good from the coffee shop's glass case. He’s not a dream, he’s not a painful memory, he’s here talking to you again like nothing happened, like no time has passed.
Being with him today, talking to him, forming new memories feels unbelievable. Your muscle memory becomes triggered because despite the newness, your body feels relieved to be in his presence, almost like you never went without him at all. Like this is normal, easy. Again and again he calms you, fixing you like you never broke in the first place. Magically healing you and restoring you to your former self. Absolved of all hardship. Of all heartache.
“Yeah, I guess not. Still pretty wild to think about though.” He stands and you’re reminded of the new height difference against yours. It’s like looking up at an angel, perfectly assembled by the gods and he holds out his hand to help you stand, “Wanna go for a walk with me?” You take his hand and leave with him leading the way.
As you're walking and talking together, you realize that you’re very familiar with the street that you’ve wandered aimlessly onto and a wave of unwanted nostalgia ripples through you.
Too many happy memories lay here in a graveyard of lost young love. No headstones, only landmarks. Sour grounds.
There are still so many questions you want to ask him but can’t. How do you ask someone who spent years and years tucked away from the world, what that felt like? Maybe someday he will open up to you again, like he did earlier about the books. If he could even put those feelings into words, it’s just not the right time. You both share a moment of silence, just walking and taking in the views around you, these old streets you both used to roam.
Maybe there will never be a right time. The future is still unclear to you, tension reaching its limit.
There is one question you have to ask. You cannot go any further without getting the answer. The same question you wanted to ask the moment you were able to look into his eyes again in the bookstore. The same question that’s been on the tip of your tongue the entire evening at the table. The same question that’s eaten away at your heart and soul for twelve years…and the answer may set you free.
‘‘Why did you push me away?”
The words come out cracked but not broken, loud but not in volume and tears threaten to spill from your eyes and wounded ego. Your adrenaline is gone the instant your voice goes silent. You stop dead in your tracks as if to swordlessly demand that he stop walking to answer you.
He takes a few more slowed steps before halting his own legs but doesn’t turn to face you. Before he speaks, there is a long, drawn out silence but you wait. Always fucking waiting. Always fucking wondering.
“Because you would have waited for me.”
He still doesn’t face you and you try to imagine the expression that lies on his features. The tone of his words is utterly lifeless and borderline snide, as if you should have known the answer to your question all along. Except the answer is not what you were expecting at all. Self loathing and sadness fade into a slow but rising anger and you don’t want to be here again.
Sever that fucking leg. Maybe you’ll lose enough blood and just die this time.
“Of course I would have fucking waited for you!” You shout, trying to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs while the tears finally cascade down your cheeks. You’re tired of waiting and tired of all the bullshit.
He’s here now, he’s in front of you right now. He’s not locked away, he’s not behind walls and fences and neither are you. This isn’t a dream where you get to resolve things peacefully. It’s a nightmare of old trauma resurrected.
You are an idiot. You are too naive. You are a fool and pushover and you’re too trusting. Time doesn’t change a fucking thing.
Your chest feels like it’s being crushed at a tortuous pace - ribs about to fracture from the pressure, organs about to burst and bleed. It feels like you’re on the verge of suffocating and no breath of air can properly fill your lungs enough. You’re drowning, burning and bleeding out all at once. You’re shocked at how hard you are crying, feeling it in every muscle as it shakes you violently and uncontrollably inside of your skin.
You realize that this is exactly how broken you were twelve years ago. His words cut just as deep back then as they do now and you’re left for dead a second time. You want to hate him, you want to scream, to turn this devastating blow into resolve and reason to push past this.
You have nothing else to lose in this but how does that compare to his loss? You know what he’s lost, what he’s had to endure.
You can’t bring yourself to that level of hate no matter how hard you try. You know deep down all the reasons why he’s so broken in comparison and you don’t want to add to it. You still love him…because you’re a fool and because you’re not brave enough to break free from the trap. Not strong enough, not mad enough.
When he finally turns around you’re still. Waiting to see if he’s going to lash out and twist the knife deeper like he’s prone too, but the sorrow in his expression keeps your thoughts at bay. The redness in his eyes tells you that he’s holding back a breakdown of his own.
You stay frozen and he steps closer to you, leaving only inches between you two and his eyes bore into yours. He finally speaks again but this time the ire and seriousness in his words is more evident than before, “I told you the truth. I didn’t want you to wait for me.”
You’re without a care now, embarrassment, anger and sadness be damned. You let loose again, unable to stop yourself from filtering your thoughts. Tension snapped. Crying harder, you push at his chest with both hands. “So everything we shared meant nothing to you? I was nothing to you? How could you just toss aside everything we had just because you made a mistake? Why are you even here now if this meant nothing before?” You cover your mouth with one hand, trying to keep a sharp sob from leaving you at full strength and it only amplifies the heat and the saltiness in your tears as they burn your eyeballs.
He’s blurry at first but you stare up at him. His hands take hold of each of your arms, not hard enough to bruise but enough that he can shake you lightly as he spits out his answers, yelling just as you were seconds prior. Unable to hold back his tears, you watch as they fall gracefully past the beauty mark that you could never find on another’s face. His emotions are on full display before you, raw and hurt just as much as yours are.
“I killed my best friend! Don’t you understand that? I didn’t deserve to have you waiting for me! That was more than a huge mistake! He’s dead! He’s gone and he died because of me and I wasn’t…” His gaze falls downward, tears still falling and hands still holding you but halting his movements, lowering his voice to about a whisper, “I wasn’t going to make it ten years without you or Baji…I wasn’t going to make it out at all. I was going kill myself the first week inside.’’
He looks back up to you and moves both of his hands to hold your face, thumbs brushing away some of the unending flow of moisture that is still steadily leaving your eyes but you’re still seething. “What?! You would have had me to help! I could have handled ten years for you! I could have forgiven you! We could have gotten through it together. I still loved you but you fucking pushed me away! You didn’t even give me the chance or the choice! How was that fair!?”
Your voice is uneasy and cracking again in places you can’t control. “You pushed me away and I tried to move on and look where that got me?! It still screwed up my life Kazutora!” You lower your volume, defeat becoming too real. You’re sick of this, “And you think killing yourself wouldn’t have affected me just the same, if not worse?”
Stopping you, his palms slide back into your hair, cradling the base of your skull and holding you there while he leans in closer, nose almost touching yours. “I know and I’m so fucking sorry. I know it would have hurt at first but you would have been able to move on someday. I couldn’t handle ten years of being alone in that cell thinking about Baji and what I did. I deserved a life sentence one way or another for that but you didn't." He’s not yelling anymore either but he’s still crying.
His declaration stuns you before it breaks you into even smaller pieces. You loved him and you knew him. You knew he was hurting because of what he did the second it happened. You knew he was going to lash out, hurting himself in the process but it never occurred to you that he would want to end his own life because of it.
You knew deep down that because of actions that were his own and actions that were not in his control, that he couldn’t handle anymore loss either way.
You believed that he loved you as much as you loved him so you knew even back then that you would choose to be there for him when he needed it most. Zero hesitation.
You also believed that he was capable of changing, that he could get himself through the mess he’d made and that he would come out on the other side of it, not unscathed, but not shattered either. You’d always believed in the best parts of him and you still do, even in the midst of the wreckage.
So, when he pushed you away all those years ago, you couldn’t understand it. This was the information you never had before but needed. The real answer to your burning question.
You were both too young and too immature and you wish you could have seen the bigger picture back then. Your feelings are selfish in comparison to what he just unloaded on you. You’re acting out like a teenager again, so stupid, so self absorbed.
You bring your hands to hold his arms since his hands are still tangled in your hair and you want to hate how much it calms you down to have his hands there again, on you, holding you. Silently, you stare at each other for a moment. Both of you processing everything that’s in the air before you ask one last question. One last selfish twist of your knife, feral anger stemming from you being tired of the trap and tired of this choice you have to make one way or another.
“If that was your plan all along, then why didn’t you do it?”
In the distance, you hear the thunderous roar of rainfall and you know it’s about to reach you any second. The mist of it fills the streets with that strong, cleansing rain smell. He leans in, lips ghosting yours, eyes staring directly into yours and holding you tighter, “I couldn’t go through with it. Letting you go was the second hardest thing I've ever had to do. I had to live long enough to see if you made it out of this mess okay.”
Before you can even formulate your response, thick sheets of rain fall and splash rapidly against the streets and above you, effectively drowning the release of emotions between you two with a force that only nature can conjure.
Taking one of your hands with his own, he sprints to the nearest covering and you follow suit. When you reach dry land, you both take a second to breathe, looking around at the change in scenery before you recognize it.
You're standing in front of the old Valhalla hideout.
Star & Small Dividers by @/saradika-graphics. Graveyard Divider by @/Diviniyae. Please do not share my works on other social media platforms. See pinned post for more details.
A note from me: "Siri, play Carved by The Plot In You". I swear the lyrics got me through some final pushes of inspo in this one and I highly recommend it to any heartbroken Kazutora simps out there.
The rain scene was what I had written first for this idea and everything evolved from there. I hate to imagine him so broken but it's also why I love him so dearly. To see him grow and learn and carry his burdens is something none of my ex's could ever do with grace.
Anyway, the bulk of chapters 1 & 2 has been done for awhile so chapter 3 will take me a second but it is coming along nicely. AND!!! Chapter 4 of Make Him Smile is also moving beautifully so stay tuned there too, I know it's long over due.
And as usual I want to thank @tonightweletitburn for helping edit, a real one as always.<3
Endo's mysterious criminal empire continues to be the funniest plot point in this manga. He's eighteen at best who gave this edgy teenager the reins of a criminal organization. I mean, they should keep doing that because it's very funny. But still.
Insight: I had some writer's block the past few months and life has been a lot lately but one man got me through it all - Timeskip!Kazutora, the man that you are. There is no one in TR I love more than Kazutora and his growth as a character. He will forever be so special to me and I would wait 100 years for him if I had too and I guess re-reading Pet Sematary as an adult changed my perspectives on it. Get you a man who would do whatever it takes to bring you back to life - physically and mentally. Am I right ladies?
Description: Kazutora x fem!reader.
Your now ex partner cheats on you and so you move back to your hometown to regroup. Not fulling realizing that your first love has been out of jail for sometime now, you run into him and decide to reconnect despite your better judgement. A walk down memory lane turns sour until it finally come back to life, but has it changed?
Chapter One - "Battlescars, beartraps and the undead." 3.7k
Chapter Two - "Do you think our grandpa's knew?" Drops 7.21
Chapter Three - "Cats were the gangsters of the animal world." *Editing in progress*
Chapter Description: You not only find out that your first love is out of jail for a crime he committed over a decade ago, but you also find that he is working in a pet store of all places.
Warnings Below Cut: This is NSFW. MDNI. *TR Plot Spoilers*
NSFW, smut, rekindled romance (so sick am I right?), established past relationship (Kazutora is your ex), cursing, semi graphic descriptions of bringing the dead back to life, poor mental health, mentions of jailtime, reader has little self worth, pet names (always gotta be Kazutora's pretty girl), descriptions of anger, sadness, suicide and loneliness, cheating (not you or Kazutora), the true nature of grandmas and smutty romance novels, crying & arguing, snippets from the past, mention of Baji's death (opsy!), crazy arcade sex, will continue to update as chapters release! And as usual, let me know if I missed anything.
Stephen King - “And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity.”
“I hate this one.” He says with a groan that matches his disdain. You’re reading aloud the very last chapters of Pet Semetary when he interrupts you.
“Why? It’s a love story if you think about it, albeit a little gruesome.” You laugh at how serious he’s taking this and also you’re also pleasantly surprised. He usually loves it when you read scary books.
He looks up at you and you look down at his pouty face in your lap. You’ve both been like this for hours. The afternoon sun starting to set as the orange and pink hues change the lighting in his bedroom into something softer, dreamier. You’re sitting up on his pillows while he lays on you, listening to you read aloud the horrors of another Stephen King novel. One that he picked this time, definitely not because of the cat on the cover.
“I know that! That’s exactly why I hate it. There’s not a doubt in my mind that if I lost you, I would do anything if it means you’d come back to me. I’m exhausted already thinking about burying your dead body in that damn cursed cemetery. And obviously, that didn’t go well for this guy the first two times he did it!”
His explanation warms your heart despite how crass his words come out. You would probably make the same choice if you possessed the strength to even carry his dead body up a mountain to bury it in tainted soil that has the power to revive the dead, to bring him back.
“So you’re saying you’d do it even if I didn’t come back right? That first guy came back totally insane!” You exclaim and he scoffs at your question, “Of course I would. Besides, you’re already not right. Makes me think you would turn out just fine.” He reaches up to give you a peck on the lips and holds the side of your face gently with one hand, “I’ll take you insane, as long as you come back to me that’s all that matters.”
You push on his chest playfully, showing your offense at his comment and trying to hide how flustered his confession and his actions make you, “And I’m sure Hanma knows of a place like that. Creepy son of a bitch anyway.” He laughs at his own joke before you do. “Yeah yeah, we’ll see how it goes for this guy and then you can tell me if you’d still have the same answer when we see how it ends.”
Both of you grin at each other like goons before you clear your throat and re-open the book, ready to continue reading.
He lays back down and turns to face your stomach, closing his eyes, nuzzling into you and wrapping an arm around your waist. You pause before starting the next chapter to take in the view below you.
He looks peaceful, cuddled up and ready for a nap. You can’t help but reach down to run your fingers through his multicolored hair. The sound he makes is something you hope you never forget, content and relaxed almost like a deep purr more than an exhale. It’s a rare sight to see him so calm like this.
When he notices your pause, he opens one eye like he’s spying on you and a smirk tugs at his lips, “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me how it ends.”
_______
The past three years felt normal enough as they passed you by. Not too fast and not too slow. You were thankful for that over the course of these years because seeing your life packed up into moving boxes right now, made it feel like the longest stretch of your life.
The real reality however, was that it was three years of your life that were utterly wasted. Three years of being with someone you thought was going to change everything for you. Three years of validation, safety and happiness collapsed around you the moment you saw them in your shared bed with another…
You were devastated at first, naturally, but now you were only filled with a dull rage - like a burning sensation that stays underneath your other emotions throughout the passing days. Unshakable and it was starting to wear you out.
More than anything you were angry that you had to come back home like this, under circumstances like this because of someone else’s actions. It was defeating and despite your friends and family welcoming you home with open arms, you felt hollowed out. An empty shell of your former self and you can’t believe you didn’t see the light sooner or see the signs sooner.
There have been two great loves in your life. One long forgotten and this fresh wound you now have had to stitch back up, half hazardly. It’s been six weeks since you’ve seen the latter, and twelve years since you’ve seen the former. You swear up and down that you're done with dating for the time being.
Too much of yourself has been given away to withstand anymore loss. Too many pieces of your heart gone and rotting away with nothing to show for it. Too much in too many different ways.
You’re going to focus only on yourself right now, a cliche yes. What else can you really do? You have to start the painstaking task of building your life back up and your walls back up with it at some point.
Brick by fucking brick. Layer by fucking layer. You’ll get yourself there. You hope and you pray that it won’t be as hard as you imagine, and at least you were on familiar territory again. Even if the memories here were painful, they were old and they were faded - the sour grounds of your soul that you wished to never tread upon again.
_________
Several months move along without any major mental relapses and you can confidently say, you feel okay. You’re breathing easier again at least. You’re sleeping better again. You got your own place and it’s not far from your mother’s. She was a little sad to see you leave the family home again but happy that you were so close by this time around.
You also got a dog. A cute, air headed little cloud of white fur with cartoon eyes.
Someone in your moms sewing circle had puppies for sale and your mom didn’t feel right letting you live alone in your new apartment. It was you and your spoiled, furry friend against the world now and unfortunately for you, the grocery store was out of said little friends special food.
Like an idiot, even into your adult age, you wait until the last minute to do everything. You’re standing here, a day late and a dollar short, in the pet aisle, annoyed with yourself for being such a procrastinator. Irresponsible until the day you die.
Locationwise, you know the next grocery store isn’t too far, but it’s at least a twenty minute drive. That’s decent “clear your head with music’ driving, you think. But laziness prevails and before you make that trek, you do a quick internet search on your pets’ brand of food. Sure enough, a pet store comes up only five minutes away and it’s still open for another hour..
“Xj Land” the sign on the building reads as it lights up above the doorway. Interesting, cute.
You don’t recall it being here before but it has been a long time. So much has changed in the place you grew up in and somehow it still feels very much the same, nostalgia never wearing off. You hate change but you try not to over think it. The door sings a light chime as you step inside.
A strange voice greets you and your heart freezes in your chest at the sight before you. “No way! Long time no see!” The guy sitting at the counter stands to his feet and steps around it, arms reaching on either side of you to pull you into a hug. You realize quickly that you know this man and you return the gesture before making it too awkward.
The hug is short and you’re relieved. You’re caught completely off guard, the whiplash you’re getting right now is hard to stomach but you reply calmly. “Hey you. It has been awhile hasn’t it?” You try to be polite as you can as you work through your shock.
It's been over a decade since you’ve crossed paths with the one and only, Chifuyu Matsuno.
He smiles brightly at you, taking you in with his eyes and you’re doing the same. Observing how much you’ve both changed since the last time you saw each other. You’re at least happy to see that he is smiling again.
Things were not this bright when you saw him last…
“It sure has! You look amazing! How are you? Are you back for good or visiting?” He fires off his questions fast and you try to keep up without giving him too many sorted details. It’s still a sore spot for you to mention exactly why you were home so you keep it simple like you have with everyone else who’s asked.
“You look good too. The black hair really suits you. I just moved back. Done with college and what not.” For some reason you start to feel nervous. “You really think so?” He questions as he runs his hand through his jet black hair. He clears his throat, “Congrats on finishing school. I was so happy to be done after high school, I can’t imagine more than that. You were always way smarter than us.”
There it is, a painful core memory. “Us” he says. Chifuyu, Baji and…
“What brings you in today? Anything I can help with?” His inquiry steers you back to calmer waters. “Oh yeah, I’m looking for this brand of dog food. The search I did says you guys might have it?” You show him the photo on your phone and he looks at it excitedly.
“You got a dog?! I always thought of you as more of a cat person!” He laughs, “Good brand though damn, you mean business. I should have some this way.” He walks down an aisle behind you both and finds it without really looking, muscle memory maybe.
“Here. First bag is on me.” He hands you the bag and waves a hand towards you. “No way, I couldn’t. You run a small business now, you don’t have to do me any favors Chifuyu!” They say you should always support your friends in their business endeavors by paying them. And even though he’s not necessarily your friend, you both do share a sorted past and that should count for something.
He laughs again and you can tell he’s not going to bend on this. Chifuyu was always a stubborn one. “Yes, I can and we’re doing great by the way! Ever since we started grooming services, we’re seeing a major increase in profit. All I’m asking in return is if your dog needs grooming, come to us and I promise you won’t be disappointed!”
‘We’ started grooming services? ‘We’re’ seeing profit?
The sparkle in his eyes softens you and you’re again, happy to see him smiling so much, so you agree to his terms. “Fine. It’s a deal.”
He clenches his fist in victory with a hushed, ‘YES!’ low under his breath before looking back at you. “It was really nice to see you again. Here, take a card. I really mean it, we’ll take good care of your new partner in crime!” He takes a business card from the counter and hands it to you. “It was nice to see you too. Don’t work too hard over here. Thank you for this.” You give him another hug and with a wave, you walk back out the chiming door to the parking lot.
Your mind wanders a bit as you sit in your car in silence, too stunned to drive home. What does he mean by “we”? Him and his girlfriend? Wife? It’s not like you’ve kept up on his life since you left. You look down at your hand and notice the business card that’s still in your palm.
The sight feels like a bullet to your chest.
“XJ Land - Quality Pet Store & Grooming Service”
Store Phone: XXX.XXX.XXXX
Manager: Chifuyu Matsuno
Pet Stylist: Kazutora Hanemiya
Call to book an appointment. Closed on Sundays.
That’s who he meant, that’s who he was referring to and you’re thankful he didn’t say his name. You can’t even bring yourself to think it, much less say it out loud.
All at once, it dawns on you. You’re home again and so is he…He’s been out for two years but your subconscious knew that this whole time. The stubborn void in your heart always kept track of it, even when you tried to ignore it, even when your brain pushed it back to the deepest parts of your mind.
A free Kazutora is just out there in the world again.
Is he happy like Chifuyu seems to be? How much has he changed? Is Chifuyu going to mention he ran into you today? What is he going to think if he does tell him?
You stop your train of thought from going off the rails with a quick shake of your head. Bad thoughts expelled. You absolutely cannot afford to think like this, not when you’re already so broken.
Twelve years, thick prison walls and fences and hundreds of miles apart could not heal you apparently. It’s as if all the walls you built up these past few weeks were destroyed in an instant. Las Vegas style decimation, quick and effective.
All that progress? Gone. And it just proves to you just how fragile it all was.
_________
Feeling weak and defeated, you decide that you’re long overdue for a selfcare day. It’s time to run some fun errands - a smoothie to start your adventure, a stop to the collectible store in the mall, the bookstore and then finish off the afternoon with an everything shower and an early dinner before bed.
So far, it has all gone off without a hitch. The sickeningly sweet fruit and juice blend of your smoothie revitalized your tastebuds and organs. Of course, you spent way too much money on trinkets and decor for your apartment. Now it was time to add to the deficit by buying some books too. You feel like you today, the real you, a happy you.
Pacing back and forth in the fiction section, you find yourself staring for a while at a series you’ve been collecting. It takes far too long for you to realize that you can’t remember which one you bought last. The covers looked so similar so you try to pull up your past purchase receipts that you send to your email. You’re a genius on the fly sometimes!
You’re scrolling intently when a voice calling your name from behind breaks all of your concentration.
You know that voice. You know it deep in the morrow of your bones and at first, you're scared, not even a little bit prepared for this exact scenario. You manage to turn around with bravery and the sight before you feels unreal, like a dream. A dream you’ve had a hundred times over. A dream you need to wake up from. Your brain must have conjured up the man in front of you because it’s unbelievable.
It’s Kazutora.
He speaks and you still can’t process the words in this thick haze you’re surrounded by, “I thought that was you. Still reading, huh pretty girl?”
The melodic chime of his earring wakes you from the daydream, iconic like it’s meant to wake you from inception. Clouds cleared, illusion lifted.
The first thing you notice is how much taller and broader he is. His eyes are still the same striking shade of bright yellow and his hair is long past his shoulders, blonde tresses framing his sharp yet still delicate features. There was no mistaking the signature ink that spirals down his neck, melting and disappearing into a dark turtle neck collar as if he meant to hide it. But you remember it fondly.
He’s even more attractive now than he was in your memories.
“Always. How are you?” You chastise yourself for how brittle and shaky your words come out. ‘How are you?’ Are you stupid? Apparently so, ‘how are you’ feels like too loaded of a question right now for either one of you but it’s not like this is a normal situation anyway.
He smiles and you swear that all of the negative feelings you had towards this man dissipate momentarily. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been alright, you?” His words are smooth in contrast to yours and his voice is oddly pleasing to your ears. The nostalgia of it all is making your brain feel at ease despite the disarray in your heart.
“I’ve been alright too. Just working and relaxing when I can.” Your voice is slowly returning to normal but you can’t stop staring at him. The eye contact doesn’t feel forced or awkward and yet something about being trapped in his gaze feels like your ankle is stuck in a bear trap.
“Chifuyu said you’ve moved back. And he said you have a dog now?” You’re not ready to sever the leg again, you want to stay stuck, to stay here with him, why? “Yeah. I’m living up near my moms place.” Keep the leg intact and stay...but why?
“I’m sure she was happy about that.” He puts both of his hands in his pockets and you’ve completely forgotten about the books you came here for. Self care day down the drain. Pull your leg free, even if it hurts…but how?
“She sure was. It feels good to be home again.” Both you share a moment of silence and you have to look downward, unsure of what to say next. Before you can think of anything, he breaks the tension.
“I’m happy you’re home too. Can I call you sometime? Is that weird?”
You look back up. Break the ankle, tear the skin from bone. Free yourself before you bleed out.
He’s shifting his weight back and forth from his toes to the balls of his feet and his words finally register. You’re not supposed to be dating or talking to anyone. You need to get yourself together and then figure out the next step.
On one hand, your next step should not be Kazutora and you know this. On the other, you can’t help that the sight and sound of him has your heart swelling with familiarity and infatuation because it is him, but it’s also not him. You’re curious about him.
Your heart aches for him either way, it always has. You feel warm and alive for the first time in a long time. Twelve years didn’t heal anything, you already know that, the scar was far too massive. Loving someone new didn’t help heal anything either, there was no space for another underneath all that damaged tissue. Working on yourself still isn’t fixing it.
Your walls were destroyed seeing his name. Hearing his voice and earring keep you in and out of a sweet dream and nightmare reality. And now you’re stuck in the trap seeing his face again.
You give him your number.
Accept it and bleed to death, why don’t you?
Date Night:
Against better judgment, you’ve spent the better part of the past four weeks talking to Kazutora over the phone.
Almost every day since the day in the bookstore, you text from sunrise until whenever you fall asleep. It started light at first, little talks about your day and his. He asks about your new job and you learn about the ins and outs of the pet shop from him. You know his schedule and he knows yours. You’re learning about each other all over again and it feels incredible but also so natural.
Where he is dry with text, you are lively and bubbly with emoji’s. Where you're manic and stressed, he is calm and reassuring. This Kazutora shares so much more than the one you knew before and he is way more open about how he feels. It’s addicting and you’re an addict for it already because it’s something you didn’t have before, something you didn’t get to see, something new.
There is however, always an underlying hesitancy in your conversations. Some topics are too heavy and too serious and neither one of you can seem to bring those things to the surface out of fear of ruining what you two have started.
Whatever this is - a talking phase, a rekindling, a mental hostage situation of your own volition, or a friendship, the label doesn’t matter. What does matter is that it’s fragile and you both seem to agree.
You never pry and neither does he, so you both focus on the present. You’re so thankful for that at first because it’s easy on your nerves and brain, but after a while, you want to know more. You want to bring up the tension. You want to push past the uneasiness.
Lately, conversations have moved beyond simply texting, his gentle tones echoing through the speaker. It becomes a calming soundtrack to even the most mundane parts of your day as if you're cooking, cleaning or going for a walk with melodic narration.
You can’t shake how much deeper and raspier his voice is now and you are not immune to the charms of how he sounds half asleep in the morning. You start to crave more. More time before hanging up, to hear more and to share more and before you know it, you feel the need to hear him in person, to attach the face to the voice.
You wanna see the emotions you’re hearing. Does he still scrunch his nose when he’s disgusted? Does he still tilt his head back when he laughs too hard? Does he still pout when something doesn’t go the way he expected?
Your cautious optimism of staying safe and put together alone starts to fade away and reshapes itself into hope and desire. Hope and desire for this new version of him.
As if he can sense your wants and needs, he finally sends the text you’ve been too scared to send yourself: “Can I take you out sometime? Tuesday maybe?”
Star & Small Dividers by @/saradika-graphics. Graveyard Divider by @/Diviniyae. Please do not share my works on other social media platforms. See pinned post for more details.
A note from me: I'm back from the dead myself ya'll! I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am for this one! It's been stewing in my brain for weeks. Kazutora however? Stewing in my brain for years.
Anyway. Spoilers, but if you've never read Pet Sematary (or watched the movie), you have to know that the main character buries his daughter's dead cat and select dead family members in the soil of an Indian burial ground, which is said to bring things back to life.
Moral of the story is, don't do that.
And I know Stephen King has his issues but when I tell you I read this book in the 6th grade, I had to argue weekly with my English teacher that yes - Semetary is spelled wrong but that's how it is because the pet cemetary is made by KIDS who can't spell for shit I guess.
Buckle in for some angst and some good ol fashion smut. This is also loosely inspired by a fanart of Kazutora standing in the Valhalla hideout as an adult - I won't share it on here because I have no idea who the original artist is and I can't give them proper credit.
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
dailybridgerton
