In Hindsight π§ Ch. 26: "plague my mind like how you always did" β
finale
The moment January came around, Kunikuzushi felt antsy. Anxiety scratched at him like an animal with claws, bearing him with scratches that would sting until they healed. Just as he was about to reach for his phone, it vibrated on the wooden top of his desk. Kunikuzushi hesitates, his hand stopping mid air.
Fuck it. He mutters. He presses the green button and puts his phone next to his ear.
"Doctor?" His voice was meek, confidence and assurance draining to the floor the moment he spoke. Silence filled the line. It was suffocating, it was too thick. It felt like his heart stopped.
A shuffling is heard on the other side of the line, along with quiet sobs in the background.
"I have news and I thought you should know."
Dread slaps Kunikuzushi in the face. His heart started pounding inside his ribcage. He can feel his breath catch in his throat. This was a long time coming but somehow, he still couldn't prepare himself no matter how much time was given.
"No." Kunikuzushi interjects quietly.
"No." He affirms, his fingers clutching the phone as tight as he can to the point his knuckles turned an ivory white. The warm lighting of his desk lamo illuminates his troubled features. Anxiety was replaced by numbness, which he knew would soon be replaced by a feeling of emptiness.
"Kunikuzushi, you can't justβ"
The line ends with a beep from Kuni's end, his fingers trembled slightly. A year was over.
12 months had passed and you left in due time. You left as fast as you came into his life that one December day.
The next few hours felt gray, like a mute movie that you would play in the background. Kunikuzushi hasn't touched his phone once since that call and he's not ignorant to the countless missed calls that have vibrated his phone off the desk. He could only sit in silence.
Kunikuzushi didn't know how to grieve, that one was a given. He was so densensitized from the numerous passings he had witness at the hospital, with family members sobbing until their voices ran hoarse. But of course, this was about you. His feelings, which were too much for him, clashed in conflict. Was he supposed to be glad that you're not in pain anymore? Is he supposed to cry? His head would feel like a thousand bricks were dumped on him from the amount of thinking he was doing.
Kunikuzushi faced death everyday. Whether at the hospital or whether it was him. Everyone did. But why did this one hurt to no end? Why couldn't he cry? Why couldn't he scream? Why can't he feel his heart breaking into tiny pieces and would instead feel hollow, like a shell that was only built to move not feel?
A few hours passed him by, he wonders what they were doing to you now? Moreover, what he would do when he sees you in that casket you planned to lay in going to the afterlife.
Could he even bear to see such a sight?
Death was complicated for him, a taboo in the array of thoughts he had on a daily basis. The amount of exposure he gets only pushes him to never open that can of worms ever again.
He dreamt about you that night. A sick play by his mind, like it was rubbing salt on an open wound.
He dreamed about your album's release, a celebratory party at some random event hall. Your friends, selected fans, and artists were all smiles. The dream was a bit fuzzy, as if to mock him that all of this was too good to be true.
The him in his dreams turns around to face the familiar source of the voice and he swears just the sight of that expression was almost enough to wake him up if he shook hard enough.
It was you, clad in the best clothes you tried on that day the both of you went shopping. It was the best one you tried on that day, but he knew you never really bought it in the first place.
But God, he missed your voice, his favorite melody. He'd listen to you talk for an eternity if it was up to him.
"Hey, you." He almost croaks out. Hey, at least he found out that he some form of consciousness in dreams. "Congratulations, love."
You give him a smile before taking a sip out of your cup. You sigh before giggling, "That drink is revolting." Kunikuzushi chuckles softly. For the first time today, he felt light. Like a weight off his chest just rolled off so easily when he saw you like this.
He notices you staring at him, worry in your eyes. Your eyebrows furrow in concern before reaching for his face. He sucks a breath in, as your skin comes in contact with his. It was feathery light, like your hand was made out of the softest silk ever made.
This dream is too fucking vivid.
The dream version of Kunikuzushi doesn't notice that small drops of tears streaming down his cheeks.
For the first time today, he finally cried. He finally started grieving for you.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's going on? Look at me."
He feels you align his face to yours, your hand still on his cheek. Your eyes trailed around every feature of his face.
"Fuck, IβI miss you already." He whispers weakly, his voice comes out quiet but choked. He hears you chuckle softly.
"What are you talking about? I'm right here dumbass."
That's right. You're still here. You're still with him, alive and well. The question is how long can he keep that up for?
He feels himself nod as you cradle his face in your hands. Kunikuzushi tries to calm himself down but he hiccups more quiet sobs.
"I love you so much." You embrace him, burying your face into his neck. "Don't cry anymore, you don't need to be sad anymore."
Kunikuzushi wakes up with a gasp, feeling the cold tears run down his face again with his heart clenching for the first time tonight, as if it only started beating ever since he saw you in that dream.
Even now, during the height of his loss, you're still his mind's favorite thought, his heart's favorite pattern of beats, his skin's favorite touch.
Sincerely yours, Kunikuzushi.
synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)
tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.
taglist. (status: open) β @beriiov @alatusorrow @ohmyfinggod @featuredtofu @itzblazekun @lazy-sanns @sakurapeach @aqvvas @yukiipc @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @dappledstars @sunnyskiesv2 @alatus-viator @yuminako @mellowberrie @k1an4a @sheraffim @pooony @sheraffim @vxmp-loml @lxkeeeee @certified-simp-4evr @nillajhayne @scaramoo @sleepning @sukunasrealgf @sketcheeee @zephestia @kaoyamamegami @startographist
masterpost β
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