𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹, a shadow that lingers long after the sun has set.
how curious that something so jagged and raw can be the only companion that remains.
'are you okay? '
a query like a wisp of smoke from a forgotten altar; bewitchingly deciptive, answered by a mirrored gilded lie—a guise that conceals the soul’s deepest lament, like a siren's song cloaking hidden depths.
are you okay?
of course you are.
even as the cold rain—an icy deluge that seeps into your very marrow pours. the unyielding cascade chilling you to the bone.
of course you're okay.
in a reality alive with fleeting visages and laughter like the songs of ancient bards, why does the heart still bear the burden of solitude?
people flit like restless shades, phantoms that never truly pierce the essence of your soul, leaving behind the bittersweet ache of a connection unformed.
it feels like a movie, doesn’t it?
a grand performance where you are but a spectator, watching your own life unfold on a stage where you aren’t the protagonist in your own tale.
'it'll get better!' they chirp, voices bright as the sun, yet their words seem hollow, echoing in the cavern of your heart.
but did they ever consider if it was advice you truly crave?
of course.
...not.
what you seek is a stillness, a presence that holds space for your unspoken truths.
someone who listens, even in silence.
someone like a scroll of old; their pages turned with unguarded ease, revealing tales laid bare for you to read.
'i love you.'
'i care about you.'
such phrases, tossed around like autumn leaves slowly losing their weight in the wind.
just because they slip from the tongue, do they resonate with the mind? the heart? the soul?
perhaps they do—but will one act on them when the tempest of need rages the fiercest?
the brutal truth is, the chance that words blossom into action is as rare as finding a rose in a desert.
yet, when one hurls, 'I hate you.' you feel the sting of authenticity in those words, a far more potent rawness louder than any hollow praise of love.
drip.
drip.
drip.
Is it really the rain that falls, or are those the tears you didn't know you were shedding?—
wait—you’re..crying?
the hand that reaches to brush your cheek feels like a mirage, a distant echo of touch, as if you are caressing a specter, even while knowing it is real.
'why the tears?'
ask that question, and though you don’t have the words, the tears continue to flow, a silent rebellion against a world that insists you should stay strong.
even more perplexing is the emptiness that accompanies your sorrow.
why does even crying feel so void of meaning?
"guess we're both hiding in the rain."
the effort to engage, especially with a stranger—feels monumental, leaving you unmoved, eyes cast downward, heavy with the weight of unspoken words.
everything feels exhausting.
yet, it’s clear he stands with you. and regardless of the umbrella in his hand, he never once offered shelter to himself or to you.
amidst the howling winds of a titanic uproar; a mere shadow of the inner maelstrom that echoed the battles of gods—you both stood, steadfast warriors against the squall’s wrath.
his gaze is drawn upwards, rapt in the skies as if searching for answers among the clouds—while yours remains tethered to the ground, too heavy to lift.
thunder rumbles, a low growl in the distance.
but it feels..strangely comforting now.
the stranger offers no more than his initial greeting—was it even a greeting?—and the silence stretches between you like a vast ocean.
did icarus, in the throes of his hubris-driven flight, ever truly revel in the incandescent opulence that would seal his demise? or was the molten grandeur that engulfed him naught but a cruel phantom—a transient illusion of a glory he was destined to forever grasp at, but never actually possess?
amidst the paradoxical realm of the stars, you have always been the moon; a luminous beacon amidst the celestial lights, outshining even the grandest of suns.
perching within him a rapture more dulcet than the harp of apollo himself—amid the freedom known as mondstadt, there could be spotted, a bard; a certain anemo archon concealed in a false identity named venti—never failed to lose himself in the everlasting paradise known as you. hypnotized by those irises glimmering with the touch of midas, no matter the buoyancy of the crowd during his countless performances.
time and again, whenever the moment arose—he would offer you a smile, a wave as gossamer as the flutter of a feather's edge; a fleeting, yet unencumbered manifestation of the sequestered wellspring of his adoration; excepting only the purposeful, dainty touch of the wind breezing past your skin, a liberty he granted far more freely than to any other.
for with you, he had attained a love infinitely more transcendent than the fate that doomed icarus could ever conceive—no longer the ruinous conflagration that claimed the aviator, but rather, the afterglow a fallen star imparts in its wake.
according to the ancient fable of pandora's box, hope itself was the final and most cruel punishment inflicted upon humanity - a false promise of relief, a deception cloaked in the guise of salvation.
with all else reduced to ashes, what rationale was left in his continued existence? a steadfast dutybound spirit was the sole ember still glowing amidst the lone tether.
if the cold caress of the reaper was to loom upon his door, he would not resist its finality, should his will to endure this blighted existence irrevocably extinguish.
but then, just as the incandescent light in his eyes waned—you coalesced to his life in a riotous inferno of visceral ravishment.
roseatte palettes and ambegurine auroras bursted forth like a dazzling display of fireworks illuminating the night sky. coruscating cobalt clashed with verdant virtuosity, sweeping away the monochrome that had shrouded his world.
it was as if he had stirred from a nightmare—awakening to a reality that was truly worth living for.
hi! Can I ask for a headcannon about Minamoto teru x childhood friend reader? Where teru is really over protective and gentle towards the reader. Reader is a lazy person, and often sleepy, the things he likes are reading comics and playing game in their phone. They also refuses teru's invitation to join the student council. Thank you! :)
why of course! it’d be an honor to grant such an ask. apologies for taking quite a while to do so—though i hope my work meets your expectations, wonderful nonie!<3
—LOST IN THE HAZE OF YOUR DREAMSCAPE.
featuring ; minamoto teru & you as our star.
+ small akane & aoi mentions.
ah, minamoto teru; the very embodiment of perfection—as he was hailed and as he carried himself with utter conviction.
a master of powers, a paragon of academic prowess, and a maestro in all things extraordinary. could there be anything he did not conquer?
yet, his persona, a labyrinth of complexities, as if harboring a multitude of souls within his very being.
now, here you arrive in his peculiar life—meeting with the intricacies of his existence.
when your paths converged, it ignited a tempestuous collision, a clash of peculiar forces.
initially, your mere presence held no sway over him. in truth, he perceived you as an encumbrance, burdened by your languid nature. for he, a relentless pursuer of flawlessness, demanded nothing less.
but lo and behold. fate—that cunning trickster—wove its intricate threads, meticulously mending the frayed tapestry of your connection.
through the passage of time, a tapestry of happenstance encounters and the subsequent flourishing of interactions—a nascent camaraderie took root. he slowly, but surely grew attuned to your idiosyncrasies, harmonizing with your rhythm. while the power to surmount every obstacle at your side eludes him still, he persists, striving to offer his utmost.
oh please have mercy on this young man—forever enmeshed in the whirlwind of his exorcist duties. and yet, even amidst the chaos, his devotion knows no bounds when it comes to those he holds dear.
one might assume that quality time would be sacrificed for the trivial, but fear not, for you found yourself on the fortunate side—the one he’d willingly carved out moments to be with.
initially, your encounters were fleeting, brief snippets of time. however, as the sands of time trickled down, these fragments transformed into meticulously planned sleepovers. he meticulously orchestrated these occasions, ensuring they did not encroach upon his demanding schedule.
your bond thrived during these cozy gatherings, or tranquil rendezvous, where he wholeheartedly immersed himself in your passions—comics and video games.
though not extensively versed in these realms, one might imagine that you—with your infectious enthusiasm to the field—was the catalyst for his exploration and understanding of the realm of entertainment. this was evidenced by the gradual increase in invitations to game nights and his newfound willingness to engage in discussions about captivating narratives. perhaps, you both even exchanged recommendations for comics, as kindred spirits often do.
as the both of you and the world grew older—it became evident that he honed his social skills; presenting himself as a complete package. every aspect of his being held an irresistible allure, captivating the hearts of women, and even some fellow men. many yearned and openly expressed their desire to be the chosen one by his side.
however, even amidst the clamoring crowd, his gaze remained steadfastly fixed upon you.
of course, as the old adage goes; with great power comes great responsibility—the price of his popularity gradually revealed itself.
certain students, teetering on the edge of obsession, noticed the distinct tenderness he displayed towards you, surpassing his general kindness towards all. seizing upon this perceived vulnerability, they occasionally resorted to devious methods, seeking to eliminate you from the equation, taking advantage of moments when slumber claimed you.
naturally, he swiftly uncovered their plot, intervening before they could execute their nefarious intentions.
needless to say, the number of such audacious attempts dwindled significantly. what exactly he did to deter them remains a mystery known only to him and his would-be victims.
still, worried that the possibility of a recurrence and his absence to intervene, he took it upon himself to practically implore—some might even say beg—you to join the student council. this would ensure that he, or even akane if needed, could keep a watchful eye over you with greater ease.
however, true to your nature, you steadfastly rebuffed each futile attempt to persuade you. despite his persistent efforts, you remained resolute in your refusal.
eventually, your golden boy relented, recognizing that his endeavors were in vain…but that was just because he found an alternative solution.
he encouraged—forced—akane to be the one to look after you discreetly whenever he couldn’t. only choosing to partially reveal his intentions to avoid alarming you at the time, as you were unfamiliar with akane’s existence.
or so it had been until he observed that you and the school’s vice president shared a rather unique bond.
although akane would occasionally scold you for being so excessively somnolent, mistaking it for you being irresponsible, hence, occasionally comparing you to the greatness of his lady aoi—teru—ever vigilant and mindful of akane’s every interaction with you, ensured that his usual brutal tendencies were significantly tempered. still—it remained a part of the deputy’s essence, defining his very being, just albeit subdued in your presence.
it could be surmised that akane once attempted to tease—or rather, foolishly inquire, about teru’s subtle yet perceptible shifts in behavior whenever you were involved.
“it’s almost as if you like them.”
in an almost immediate reaction—the president paused, slowly turning his head to gaze at akane, a shadow casting a smile that concealed the upper portion of his closed eyes.
the ginger-haired vice executive, feeling an ominous presence despite the absence of visible eyes, found himself sweating profusely as he cautiously added,
“—to the point where anyone could mistake you for family!"
sensing the gravity of his words, akane mentally vowed to never broach the subject again. he restrained himself from ever mentioning it whenever he witnessed the two of you together.
curiosity gnawed at you as you noticed his all-knowing gaze transform into one of horror whenever you turned your head, as if peering behind you; at none other than the pretty blonde himself, who seemed to be doing nothing wrong, merely proven to have been innocently smiling the whole time, or so he put up whenever you looked back at him.
oblivious to the truth, you always dismissed it as ‘akane’s peculiar moments of ptsd flashbacks’ whenever he saw teru.
however, let me share a little secret with you.
did you know the true reason behind teru’s death stare? no? well, do you wanna know?
then do allow me to spill it for you.
it was simply because akane, using the keyword; "like," insinuated that teru had a ‘liking-only level’ romantic feeling for you. the misconception provoked such a reaction from teru, for he wanted to correct that statement because he loved you, not just liked you.
seriously, can’t people let him finish what he’s saying?
graciously requested by @muuumuiiii ! thank you so much for requesting, you sweet lovely lad<3
who would have anticipated it? the mist hashira, of all individuals, displaying a concern that surpassed anyone else's for you—the spirit pillar; a warrior whose technique came at the steep cost of a gradual erosion of your life.
THE MOON; THE BRIGHTEST PEARL SUSPENDED IN OUR VELVET SKY THAT FLOODED THE INKY DARKNESS WITH ITS SILVER GLOW.
a radiant disc it was. casting its ethereal glow upon the shadows of the night, while also heralding the relentless onslaught of a few infamous entities—demons.
a symbol of hope, this pale sentinel embodied a goddess-like presence, standing as a timeless guardian, observing the earth with an unwavering gaze as warriors valiantly battled the monstrous creatures scattered throughout.
above, the luminous orb commanded the vast expanse of stars, illuminating them all. yet, even in this peaceful night, two particular slayers found themselves immersed in the serenity, although one seemed burdened by a more pressing concern, far beyond the tranquility itself.
in a world where such creatures roamed, the perfect harmony would remain elusive.
thus, what purpose did survival serve if death constantly loomed, a persistent visitor at one's very doorstep?
well, the purpose of life is to be happy. or at least, that's what this young man believed.
said boy possessed an acute understanding of this belief, as if it had become ingrained in the very fabric of his being—an awareness that, perhaps, bordered on the excessive.
the sheer ecstasy of savoring every moment of existence, embracing its essence in its entirety, was undeniably a remarkable achievement—a feat that deserved to be celebrated with fervor.
thus, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending—indeed, he never had—how she could nonchalantly dismiss the imminent cessation of her own existence, as if it were a trifling matter. the weight of her disregard for her own life gnawed at him, like a persistent ache that defied understanding.
..then again, had he been any different?
"—and…now you’re spacing out, again.”
ah, the sound of that melodious voice; both longed for and dreaded, resonated within him and snapped him out of his reverie. even though he had incessantly poured out his thoughts to her since he awakened from his coma, with her faithfully by his side, deep in slumber—despite her own exhaustion—she had remained.
as your words echoed in his ears, he shifted his gaze to meet your own—and oh, those eyes.
he would give anything to forever witness his own reflection in the depths of your eyes.
in a mesmerizing dance, your gazes intertwined; an exquisite tapestry woven with delicate threads of connection.
he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnificence of your irises—their majesty akin to rare crystalline treasures, gleaming beneath the majestic canopy of the nocturnal sky.
as a gentle zephyr whispered sweet nothings, its delicate touch caressed their beings, a tender embrace from the invisible hands of nature. he watched, his eyelids descending to a half-closed state, surrendering to the enchanting symphony of the night.
the breeze, like a playful sprite, felt as if it alone, could carry away his worries and sorrows, dispersing them into the velvety darkness.
yet, amidst this reposeful tranquility, a question lingered in the depths of his soul, an enigma that remained elusive and enigmatic.
it was one of the few riddles that continued to elude his grasp, an enigmatic puzzle that defied comprehension, regardless of whether he had regained his former self or not.
why, he pondered ever so deeply, did your well-being hold such profound significance to him?
why did his heart ache with an inexplicable yearning to protect you, to ensure the radiance within you remained untouched by the shadows of the world? it was as if his very purpose revolved around safeguarding your light, shielding it from the encroaching darkness threatening to dim its brilliance.
no, he never intended to diminish your worth in any way.
on the contrary—he understood, with a profound certainty, that you’re fully capable of caring for yourself alone.
yet, despite his awareness, a veil of mystery draped over his consciousness—that of a delicate wisp of mist teasing the boundaries of his understanding. it remained tantalizingly close, yet perpetually out of his reach, an enigma that eluded his grasp.
similarly elusive was the faint, almost imperceptible yet weighty pang in his heart each time his gaze flickered to your bandages that dressed your wounds.
he struggled to fathom its origins, to decipher the emotions that coursed through him with every glance. was it concern, fear, or something different altogether?
of course, he chastised himself for overreacting. after all, you were healing, weren't you?
...right?
at least, that was the relentless mantra he repeated to himself, like a haunting melody, a lullaby of self-deception.
perhaps it was a lie he constructed, a defense mechanism to shield himself from the harsh reality. deep down, he knew all too well that you were pushing yourself to the brink, sacrificing fragments of your own well-being to save countless others from the clutches of death.
how he yearned to tell you—to implore you—to cease using the very essence that slowly, yet inexorably, eroded your own vitality. the desire to shield you from the self-inflicted harm, consumed him.
yet, who was he to stand in your way?
who was he to dictate how you should pursue your purpose—your solemn vow? who had the right to demand that you discard the only technique you knew, as if acquiring a new skill were a trivial matter?
perhaps, for you, it had maybe once been a tangible option—a plausible alternative.
however, it clashed with the very reason why you chose to persist in wielding the power of spirit breathing, despite its unfortunate and devastating toll on your own being.
it was a conundrum that weighed heavily upon his soul, yet another conflict that tugged at the frayed edges of his limited understanding.
then, abruptly—his consciousness snapped back to reality, like a fragile dream shattered by the gentle sweep of a waving hand.
in that instant, the symphony of your voice, a sweet and melodious tune, graced his senses once more, stirring his spirit from its slumber.
"hello? earth to tokito?"
your words danced in the air, adorned with a delicate blend of amusement and genuine concern—whilst he, silently observed your actions. his gaze lingering for a fleeting moment, as if capturing the essence of your graceful movements.
soon enough, his eyes blinked, like a dormant star awakening to illuminate the night sky, as he finally stirred from his reverie.
with a subtle tilt of his head, he emitted a soft hum—a melodic expression that intertwined intrigue and acknowledgment in response to your beckoning. the notes of his hum danced through the air, a secretive melody that conveyed both his curiosity and the recognition of your presence.
meanwhile, you watched him with an internal sigh of relief.
the young man, whom you had believed to be forever lost in the bewitching realm of his perpetual daydreams, had returned to the realm of the present. the transformation within him, from introspective to effervescent, had you spellbound, never failing to leave you even in but a speck of awe, of these rare moments of clarity that graced his being.
"seems like someone's finally awake."
a faint smile blossoming upon your lips, akin to the first delicate bloom of a spring flower. lowering your hand with graceful grace,
you adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position beside him on the edge of the engawa outside the butterfly manor—a perch where you and him had been leisurely spending time together, without a care in the world, rambling on about. relishing in the comfort in one another’s presence—like a normal pair of souls basking in the way of life.
"you’ve been staring at me for quite a while.”
pausing for a breath, you tilted your head—the radiance of your irises blooming with an enchanting glow, as if the secrets of the universe were hidden within their depths.
"what's wrong?"
in the midst of an enchanting moment, a subtle hint of wounded innocence played across your seductive countenance, evoking a mysterious allure.
"do i look that bad?"
your voice, though as mellow and gentle as always, carried an underlying touch of vulnerability.
in an instant, he reacted, tilting his head with a subtle mixture of surprise and denial.
"what? no."
aa he blinked, his words slipped out absent-mindedly, like a whisper from a dreamer's lips.
"far from it, actually."
he confessed, his sincerity palpable.
with a gaze that held a painter's eye for detail, he saw your flaws not as imperfections, but as intricate brush strokes that added depth to the masterpiece of your being. inexplicably, he adored you, to the point where it practically pained him.
and who could blame him? for you were way more than a mere beauty that could be captured in words. you were a tapestry of emotions, a symphony of sensations that defied description.
to him, you are everything.
your brows raised slightly, captivated by his ever-unpredictable nature. truly, like the wind, he embraced the freedom to wander in any direction he pleased.
reminiscent of an owl, you blinked a plenty amount of times, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of his flattery. it seeped into the recesses of your heart, stirring a delicate blend of bashfulness and gratitude.
"then..."
unintentionally mimicking his gestures, as if dancing in synchrony with his spirit, you then asked, avidly yearning to explore the depths of his thoughts.
"mind sharing what's got you so..distant?"
although it was not deemed uncommon for him, of all individuals, to maintain a silent disposition, you possessed a deeper understanding—having witnessed something greater, something more.
despite the mere span of a few days, you stood as a crucial observer to the sudden shift in his demeanor. having been privy to a bewildering yet endearingly interactive side of the boy since his awakening, it became slightly disconcerting to witness him potentially regress into his characteristic, distant, and dazed state.
the memory of those extraordinary moments lingered, and it was disheartening to question whether they were mere illusions or if they held the promise of something genuine.
as of now, the male in question pressed his lips together, creating a slender line as his gaze wandered away from yours, as though searching for a brief respite from reality.
seeing this, you reassured him. carefully observing these subtle occurrences with your keen irises.
"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
responding with a weary shake of his head and a sigh escaping his lips, his gaze flickered back to you, and as his eyes connected with yours once more, a subtle softness overcame them.
truly breathtaking were his eyes. they possessed a hue reminiscent of emerald, yet they gleamed like the replesdent glow of the moon above.
however, what truly captured your attention was the way his brows furrowed just as the corner of his lips downturned, for internally—a cascade of emotions crashed upon him all at once. moreover, a despairing layer seemed to coat his eyes, a poignant sorrow that caught you off guard.
"i don't like it."
he stated firmly, his words hanging in the air, leaving you perplexed.
your head tilted slightly further, eyes widening as you regarded him with curiosity and intrigue.
in response, he raised a hand to the area where his heart resided, his gaze lowering and narrowing towards the ground beneath you both.
"this feeling..."
his voice carried a weight of uncertainty, gaze delicately shifted back to meet yours—and in that moment, you could have sworn you saw his frown deepen as the hint of sorrow on his features became even more pronounced.
"and knowing you could..."
he trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete his sentence. yet, the unfinished words were enough for you to grasp the essence of his meaning.
your brows upturned, sensing the profound depth of emotions he struggled to express fully through words. you had a hunch that it might be something like this, but witnessing his reaction with such intensity was, without a doubt, enough to evoke a painful ache in anyone's heart.
the desire to comfort him welled up within you, an overwhelming longing to ease his burdens. yet, you couldn't help but question how you could possibly offer reassurance.
would it be by telling a blatant lie about something that was inevitable?
now, that would be nothing short of cruelty, no?
to suggest that you would overcome it would only exacerbate the pain. moreover, you were uncertain how to approach the situation without inadvertently triggering a devastating chain of events in the unavoidable future.
truth be told, if he were anyone else, you might have dismissed the matter with a casual remark, wouldn't you?
but with him, it was different.
you couldn't bring yourself to say so.
unable to find the right words in that moment, your gaze somberly shifted away from his, fixating on a distant point ahead. yet, in a sudden and unexpected instant, you were taken aback as you felt the weight of something new but vaguely familiar resting upon your shoulder—soft strands of supple hair gently brushing against you. along with it came a delicate warmth, enveloping you in an oddly soothing sensation.
"you don't have to say anything."
he quietly uttered, his honeyed voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and reassurance. he simply needed to release his thoughts into the open, to let them be heard, even if it was just a single sentence.
there had been no intention to pressurize or burden you, but rather a desire to be the one offering reassurance while subtly seeking comfort himself.
in a silent plea to convince himself that he wasn't caught in a dream, he gingerly leaned his head against your shoulder, and though was making sure not to add any more damage to your wounds, he did so without a hint of regret.
your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his actions. turning your attention back to him, you found solace in this unspoken gesture of support. that tender gesture conveyed a profound understanding, a connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. it was a silent reassurance; of ones comforting presence for the other, especially in the face of uncertainty.
a sentimental smile graced your features as you felt immense gratitude for his selfless deeds. even in this moment, he made sure you were as comfortable as possible, going above and beyond to provide solace. the warmth of his actions filled you with a deep sense of appreciation and reinforced the unmatched bond between you.
"..thank you,"
you whispered in a hushed breath, your voice carrying the weight of profound appreciation.
though the words seemed simple, they held within them an entire universe of gratitude—a universe that bloomed with vivid colors, dreamlike aspirations, and meaningful connections.
with a delicate grace, you lifted your hand and allowed your fingertips to dance upon the canvas of his raven tresses. each strand, like a silken thread, wove a tapestry of sensations beneath your touch.
the texture was soft and supple, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. as your fingers glided through the ebony strands, you embarked on a journey of intricate care, smoothing out the knots that dared to disrupt the harmony.
in this intimate act, time seemed to suspend, creating a space where the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a transcendent moment. your touch, as mindful as the brushstrokes of an artist, traced a path of tenderness and care. each movement held intention, a pledge to protect and cherish him, ensuring no harm would befall his vulnerable spirit.
It was a silent symphony, where the language of trust and gratitude flowed effortlessly through the whispers of your fingertips.
as you continued this tender ministration, a vibrant tapestry of emotions unfurled within the depths of your heart. gratitude, like a delicate fragrance, mingled with a sense of wonder, weaving a spellbinding combination.
the tenderness you shared painted a tableau, akin to a cherished memory, where hues of warmth, understanding, and appreciation blended harmoniously.
pleased by your touch, a contented hum escaped your companion's lips, his eyes finding solace in the comfortable embrace of closed lids.
a smile, brimming with emotions, blossomed upon his visage, a testament to the profound impact of your presence.
his heart fluttered with a bittersweet ache, caught between the beauty of the present and the uncertainty of the future.
yet, even in the face of daunting odds, a glimmer of hope persisted within him. it discreetly clung to his being, refusing to be extinguished.
it was undeniably a childlike hope, both fragile and resilient; to yearn for the possibility of a miraculous turn of events.
still, muichiro wanted to embrace that chance, to patiently wait for the magic of a future with you.
i haven't written since a long while. so it's safe to say that the following are merely my way of 'recrudesce', or in other words, doing my best to rekindle the faintest spark of creativity within me.
when someone's happiness is yours- it's not just a matter of likelihood, honey. that's love.
a short venture into my world of vividness; exploiting 2nd POV with you.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"the best reason to love someone is because they're themselves."
"if it isn't obvious already, i love you because you're you."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
beneath the pale moonlight, you were the cosmic dancer's perfect muse. and as wispy air danced around you, like an ethereal cloud of mist, it brought out you beauty like a mirage, enchanting the very surroundings.
with such rivet, how could i not look?
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
the buoyance of the streets held no worth as the sight of you beside me.
beneath the stars amongst the city, the majesty of the cheering night beheld was nothing compared to the beauty of you alongside me, sat on turf, head on your shoulder, surpassing all else.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
how could i possibly love you if i can't reciprocate even a fraction for myself?
in the tapestry of our existence, we were a direct reflection; bound by fate yet not confined by it.
our story shone with both brilliance and melancholy, a testament to our connection.
as i forged ahead with arduous steps, each one as heavy as a boulder, i yearned for the part of myself that was left behind, hoping against hope.
perhaps, in the vast expanse of time and space, our paths will converge once more. love will weave its threads anew.
and maybe, in another life, i cherished myself as deeply as you treasured me.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
under the moon, you once promised an eternal bond.
yet now, you pass by, ignorant, leaving me inconsolable.
it's clear now, that we are nothing but strangers once more.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
sometimes, i can't believe you're real.
you're a miraculous presence in my life, and your smile alone illuminates my world.
how was i so fortunate to have found you?
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⚘ੈ♡˳︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ੈ♡˳⚘
alas, but fret not for it is far from the least . . .
blue, the warmest partner, with its cooling sight reflecting the cerulean sea.
the chilling breeze, already futile in calming the burning pace of my cordial heart, did nothing to dampen the exhilaration that surged within me when i felt your hand gently intertwine with mine. our gazes, fixated not on the mesmerizing view of the ocean, but solely on each other, spoke volumes of the captivating connection we shared.
in that fleeting moment, i was reminded, once again, of the breathtaking and sublime essence that defines you.
spring. the season she bought something just for her.
on the day following her return from a mission, riri discovers eva in a state of solitude beneath a blossoming sakura tree.
however, the winter pillar seems to have been searching for the glacier pillar. why is that?
an akari fuyutsuki x eva himeko oneshot.
// eva himeko rightfully belongs to my beloved, @muitsuri!
spring, when the world bursts forth with life.
spring, where a symphony of delicate miracles unfolds.
spring, a season when verdant tendrils awaken from their slumber, where the gentle touch of the sun's caress breathes vitality into every corner of the earth.
amidst this exquisite tapestry of rejuvenation, beneath the boughs of a resplendent sakura tree, a lovely lady found herself caught in a momentary enchantment.
her graceful figure, adorned in hues of soft pastels, became the focal point of a whimsical dance. with closed eyes, her lashes fluttered like the wings of dainty butterflies, lending an air of ethereal serenity to her gorgeous countenance.
the fragrance of blooming flowers enveloped her, infusing the air with a sweet intoxication that stirred her senses.
the sakura petals swirled around her with a grace befitting a ballet, encircling her form in a delicate waltz. each petal, kissed by the gentle breeze, pirouetted and twirled in harmonious synchrony, their ephemeral beauty mirroring the ephemeral nature of this captivating season.
the cherry tree stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards the heavens as if yearning to touch the cerulean canvas above. and beneath its protective canopy, the glacier hashira found peace, a sanctuary where her thoughts could wander amidst the petals' tender embrace.
her delicate lids fluttered open, anticipation filling her being.
yet, instead of being greeted by the expected rosy vista, her irises were met with a mesmerizing azure expanse that halted her tranquility in its tracks.
the chestnut-tressed maiden could practically hear her heart cease its rhythmic dance, only to resume with a frantic tempo as she realized that those majestic blue irises belonged to none other than the winter pillar. the hashira, with a mere tilt of her head, seemed unperturbed by their proximity, as if she had initiated this encounter herself—which was most likely.
silence enveloped the pair, stretching into an eternity, as they locked gazes, delving deep into the depths of each other's souls. the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a testament to the profound connection that existed between them. and then, like a soothing melody, a familiar voice, flat yet mellow, graced the ears of the flustered maiden.
"and here I thought you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.”
as the pillar’s words lingered in the air, akari finally leaned back, causing a tumultuous storm of emotions to surge within the latter’s heart—a mix of both fortune and dismay.
though the azure-eyed maiden's words may have carried a hint of sarcasm, eva understood that they held a genuine sentiment, devoid of mockery, but rather a straightforward observation.
"i wasn’t actually asleep, you know..."
the glacier pillar felt a surge of gratitude as her words flowed forth without a single stutter. however, her tone remained meek, leaving her uncertain if they were even heard, or if they simply dissolved into the ether.
naturally, the latter heard her—akari unconsciously exerted more effort whenever it involved eva, after all.
however, to her surprise, akari; though renowned for her analytical disposition, found herself unexpectedly taken aback, her eyebrows arching being the sole giveaway to her genuine astonishment.
"you weren't?"
a hint of perplexity laced the winter pillar’s voice as she raised a hand to her chin, her head tilting slightly as she hummed in thoughtful contemplation. "strange. everything about you seemed to suggest otherwise, but i suppose i was mistaken."
“eh?"
eva, in turn, tilted her head slightly, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. did it have something to do with her appearance? had something changed? or perhaps it was due to the winter pillar’s unique perception of auras? so many questions stirred within her, yet remained unspoken—
"if you appeared so serene with only your eyes closed," akari continued, her words laced with a touch of intrigue. "i can only imagine how much more captivating it would be when you are truly asleep."
oh…
was that meant to be a compliment? the heat of embarrassment crept up eva’s pretty face, coloring it with a rosy hue.
normally, she would be quite talkative around the winter pillar, but in this moment, she found herself rendered speechless. her mouth parted slightly, but the words she longed to utter seemed to elude her, trapped in the depths of her being.
as the hashira settled into a more relaxed position, abandoning her previous crouch in front of eva, the glacier pillar struggled to regain her composure. the contrast between her disheveled state and the seemingly unfazed composure of the lady before her was evidently striking.
yet, as if fate had finally decided to show her mercy, eva’s eyes caught a glimmer of light reflecting off what appeared to be a snowflake-shaped object in the winter pilar’s free hand. upon closer examination, it became clear that it was a hairpin.
an idea sparked in the sable-head’s mind, causing her to perk up. "how beautiful! do you need help with that? i can assist you in putting it in your hair—“
"what? no."
the cobalt-head’s sudden interruption caused the radiant smile on eva’s face to freeze. a wave of uncertainty washed over her, as if she had committed a grave mistake. akari’s deadpan expression translated into a look of incredulity through eva’s eyes, igniting a spark of panic within her.
"sorry, that must’ve been weird of me to ask..”
"what?..no it isn’t. i only declined because this hairpin isn't for me."
the glacier pillar paused, finding herself confused for the second time within such a short span. if not for herself, then for whom?
was akari planning to give it to someone else?
the thought sent a pang of pain through eva’s heart, and her feeble attempts to conceal her expression of sorrow proved to be futile.
yet, in the fleeting instant that ensued, akari’s next words swiftly dissipated all of her concerns, replacing them with a comforting sensation that enveloped her like a cozy embrace, leaving her head swirling with warmth and delight.
"i saw this earlier and...” lost in wonder, she absentmindedly, yet carefully toyed with the object, her voice trailing off. extending it towards the bewildered maiden in front of her, she resumed, "it’s for you. i saw it earlier, and thought of you."
in response, eva’s stunning eyes widened. "m-me?" she stammered, a mix of disbelief and bashfulness evident in her voice, along with a profound sense of gratitude.
trembling slightly, eva reached out, her fingertips gently brushing against the hairpin, treating it as if it were an exquisitely delicate treasure. "this is for...me?" she repeated, as if struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.
akari simply nodded. in contrast, her features still withheld any hint of her internal musings. "yes, for you."
"just for you."
at the lack of typically verbal responses, her head tilted slightly as she arched a brow, "is it not to your liking?—“
"that’s not it!!"
the glacier pillar swiftly interjected, shaking her head vigorously, causing the winter pillar to worry that she might become dizzy.
“huh?..”
“the contrary, actually..” releasing a heartfelt sigh, eva shifted her gaze, tenderly looking at the gift she had just received, a loving smile gracing her lips. "i like it, a lot.” she confessed.
she turned her gaze back to akari, her smile softening even further. "i love it, actually.” she whispered.
her eyes fluttered shut, forming a closed-eyed smile that gradually transformed into a cheerful grin as her head swayed slightly to the right, reminiscent of a joyful dance.
as the diaphanous breeze danced through the air, its celestial touch gracefully tousled eva’s lustrous locks as the sun joined in this symphony of beauty, casting its golden rays upon her countenance, illuminating her features with a resplendent radiance. her smile, a beacon of joy, radiated a warmth that had akari mesmerized, rendering her unable to divert her gaze from the majestic sight before her.
"you really are pretty.”
in response, a rosy blush bloomed across eva’s cheeks, the flush of warmth coloring her delicate visage.
she lowered her gaze, her fingers tenderly tracing the contours of the precious object she held— a reflection of the tender emotions that stirred within her. the subtle intensity of her feelings ignited a longing within her soul, a yearning for more moments such as these.
a gentle sigh escaped the hashira’s lips, a melody of mingled pleasure and vulnerability. "you.." she murmured, her words laced with a hint of playful defiance, "you should really stop with those out-of-nowhere compliments." she pouted, her eyes gracefully closing as she sought refuge in the solace of darkness, a brief respite to regain her composure. though she cherished the accolades bestowed upon her, a lingering fear whispered in her thoughts, warning of the perilous bewitch of such sweet words.
it just might be the cause of her death someday. the extravagancy of the thought nagged at the glacier pillar’s mind, causing her to let out a modest chuckle that merely fueled the winter pillar’s confusion.
wasn’t she simply stating the truth? that was the only fact reverberating in akari’s mind as she attentively absorbed eva’s words. however, the winter pillar quickly brushed aside her perplexity as her ears were blessed with the sound of the glacier pillar's laughter.
how melodic it was...
as eva’s honeyed giggles continued to reverberate in the depths of akari’s mind, the heavenly maiden within her imagination had already fixated the exquisite ornament to her hair.
however, just as she was about to delicately secure the hairpin in place, a familiar gloved hand benignly interposed, halting her graceful movement.
with utmost grace, akari relinquished the delicate treasure from her grasp and gracefully descended onto her knees, a dancer's poise enshrining her every motion. she meticulously shuffled closer to eva, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken intention, as if she were an artist composing a masterpiece.
slowly, yet deliberately, akari positioned the hairpin on the right side of eva’s lustrous tresses, forsaking the left with a careful precision. every movement was executed with a refined elegance, as if she were an artisan sculpting an ephemeral masterpiece.
"that’s better…" she murmured, her voice a gentle caress, her breath mingling with the air as she tenderly brushed a stray strand away from eva’s enchanting visage.
as the lovestruck maiden’s irises quivered with an indescribable feeling, her heart pounded with the intensity of a symphony, as if it were an instrument played by the divine.
her lips, delicately pursed, mirrored the graceful curvature of akari’s own, forming a sublime duet of emotion and desire.
the winter pillar’s smile, faint yet resplendent, held an air of perfection in eva’s eyes—a fleeting moment of flawlessness that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mortal existence.
"i would prefer if this hairpin didn’t get in the way of that streak of your hair." akari murmured, her words an enchanting incantation that held both longing and reverence. the subtle plea in her voice carried an unspoken desire to preserve the natural beauty that adorned eva’s being, to honor the ethereal essence that danced with every strand.
in that sublime instant, bathed in the sun's golden rays that transformed the sakuranbo into a canvas of warmth and luminosity, they found themselves enveloped in an otherworldly realm.
there, the boundaries between dreams and reality blurred, and a humble object possessed the extraordinary ability to ignite a love that surpassed the confines of time and space.
HE FOUND HIMSELF ENSNARED IN THE RAPTUROUS EMBRACE OF A PLAIN, UNADORNED NOTEBOOK. its pristine pages beckoning him to whisper tantalizing secrets.
seating himself in the seiza style-his limbs folded gracefully—he wielded a quill like a maestro's baton, while his other hand languidly cradled his cheek-a solitary pillar of repose in the vast expanse of contemplation.
with a sigh of resignation, he embarked upon the wondrous dance between ink and parchment.
...hey.
he paused, his countenance adorned with a mask of impassivity, concealing a tempest of thoughts within.
why, he mused, did he feel compelled to extend his greetings to a humble sheet of paper?
yet, a flicker of ephemeral memory flickered through the corridors of his mind—a faint echo that whispered of customs and courtesies, of beginnings and origins.
though he found himself adrift in the enigma of it all, he yielded to the notion that a simple "hello" would serve as the key to unlock the labyrinth of his newfound routine.
anyways..
that butterfly lady gave me this.
i don't know why, she just did.
he blinked, his brows ascending with a subtle grace, as a revelation had alighted upon his consciousness like a silken butterfly.
i don't know why, she just did.
actually, i do.
she gave me this because she said that journaling..
it'd help me with my memories somehow.
if i recall correctly..she told me to write down anything i figured is worth noting, saying it'll help me 'treasure' it or something.
as he neared the culmination of his literary pilgrimage, he sighed yet again, his breath a gentle zephyr that whispered secrets to the dull room.
whatever. it doesn't matter.
the final words dripped like honey from his quill, an offering to the vast expanse of time and oblivion. yet, even as he penned the denouement of his day, a knowing knowledge clung to his intellect—one he had unfortunately grown accustomed to.
i'll forget about this, anyways.
on the contrary—to his own astonishment—he found himself ensnared within the confines of familiarity, as if destiny had conspired to recreate the tableau of days past.
an unexpected sense of accomplishment fluttered within his being, though he nonchalantly brushed it aside, for its allure held no sway over his seemingly impassive demeanor.
wow.
this again.
never thought i'd actually come back to this.
i guess that person was just so weird that i instantly went here subconsciously.
and yet—a query lingered, teasing the fringes of his consciousness.
how did he manage to recall the precise location where this artifact had been bestowed? his gaze faltered, searching the surroundings with an air of detachment, even as his countenance remained stoic and unyielding.
alas, pondering the intricacies of remembrance proved an exercise in futility.
the answer—it seemed—resided in the glorious mist of poorly scrapped away details.
in reality, for—in a moment of abandon-he had actually just left this vessel exposed upon the very table that bore witness to its initial unveiling.
with that profound comprehension nestled in the recesses of his clouded mind, he simply blinked before returning to the task of diligently jotting down the words he had momentarily paused, delicately inscribing the words that had eluded him mere seconds ago—fully aware that they would soon inevitably slip from his memory.
a pensive cloud descended upon his countenance, casting a shadow upon the dainty tapestry of his thoughts.
his brows, like twin sentinels of vexation, furrowed once more, mirroring the tumultuous musings that swirled within the depths of his mind.
speaking of which, what's their deal anyways?
he simultaneously pondered, his memory a fragmented mosaic that teased the edges of his recollection. who exactly was this vexing interloper that had managed to impede upon his path? the tendrils of remembrance danced just beyond his grasp, tantalizingly close yet frustratingly distant.
bothersome brat getting in the way like that.
the realization dawned, an ember of understanding amidst the haze. it seemed that this individual, by the mere virtue of their skills, bore the mark of a fellow demon slayer. though their intentions remained obscured, he acknowledged that their presence, even as an ally, posed an inconvenience.
yet, he couldn't help but acknowledge that the situation would have been far more dire had they been an unsuspecting civilian thrust into the fray.
"had I not intervened, you would've gotten hit instead."
the echo of their words reverberated within his mind like a daunting scene, conjuring a vivid portrait of their visage. a flicker of irritation danced in his eye, an involuntary twitch that betrayed his lingering frustration.
at least that weirdo refrained from whining and coercing me into helping them seek the aid of that butterfly lady.
even still—a veil of perplexity settled upon his thoughts, shrouding his mind in a haze of bewilderment. the actions of that imbecile confounded him, defying all logic and reason. how dare they insinuate that he lacked the agility to evade the blow? and even if he hadn't, was it not just another day, with the ebb and flow of danger an ever-present companion?
furthermore, the question lingered like a specter; why did they possess such fervent concern, enough to willingly absorb the impact intended for him? a cynical frown danced upon his lips, for he harbored a deep-seated suspicion that their motivations were rooted in a desire to don the mantle of heroism.
ordinarily, such trifling matters would have been dismissed with a mere shrug, relegated to the realm of inconsequential distractions.
and yet, that singular event, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, sent ripples coursing through the depths of his being. it stirred a dormant fire within him, kindling a smoldering embers of annoyance that refused to be extinguished.
the enigma of their actions gnawed at his consciousness, an incessant itch that demanded his attention. why did their interference provoke such a visceral reaction? what lay beneath the surface of his irritation? the answers eluded him, concealed in the murk of his own introspection.
eventually, a flicker of relief danced upon his countenance, as if a gentle breeze had brushed away the creases of consternation etched upon his features. for, in this fortuitous moment, salvation arrived in the form of ginko, his loyal companion, his assigned kasugai crow.
entering the room through the open window with a graceful flutter of ebony wings, the avian harbinger announced his imminent departure towards yet another mission, a clarion call that whisked away the tendrils of disquietude that had begun to take hold.
had he been pondering for that long?
he blinked, extending a hand adorned with purposeful gentleness, he bestowed upon ginko a few aimless caresses to the sleek feathers that adorned the crow's head. a momentary respite amidst the chaos, a fleeting connection between two souls bonded by the trials of their shared endeavors.
and then, with a seamless transition, his expression reverted back to its stoic neutrality, a mask of detachment that shielded the depths of his thoughts.
his gaze, once adrift and almost forgotten, refocused upon the near-forgotten notebook that lay before him—its pages, blank with very few words but brimming with the promise of untold tales, unlike before—it now beckoned him with an irresistible allure. who’s to say that this encounter, this outpouring of his thoughts upon its parchment, would be his last? the question lingered, suspended in the air, as if the notebook itself whispered of secrets yet untold.
however—a hint of exasperation tinged his thoughts once more, a testament to the minutes squandered upon this wearisome endeavor. the weight of time wasted settled upon his shoulders like an oppressive burden, threatening to drown him in a sea of regret. had that butterfly lady bestowed this upon him merely as a means to pass the hours in such a pitiful manner?
what’s with everyone pissing him off lately? a disapproving click of his tongue resounded, accompanied by an inward huff of frustration, as if to dismiss such thoughts as inconsequential.
yet, even as he brushed aside the notion, a lingering seed of doubt remained. the origins of this diversion, this seemingly trivial pastime, stirred a restlessness within him. but he swiftly quelled the rising tide of contemplation, for there were matters of greater import to attend to.
with a languid motion, his hand lazily fell back to his side, a symbol of resignation to the inevitability of his next mission.
ginko—ever attentive—observed his movements with unwavering focus through her beady eyes.
as he rose to his feet and walked away without a word, she hastened to follow, a silent guardian ensuring he treaded the correct path this time.
perchance, had he paid greater heed—he would have discerned the inadvertent significance he ascribed to that encounter.
possibly, if he could decipher his emotions amidst the shroud of negativity, he would come to comprehend the profound influence this ostensibly unavailing—or so he perceives it to be—undertaking continues to hold within the recesses of his hazy recollections.
a sense of weariness pervaded his being, his form slouched over the table in an exhausted posture. his arm, draped atop the surface, cradled his lower face in a gesture of weary surrender.
heavy-lidded eyes, devoid of their usual sharpness, stared blankly at the notebook before him, its pages a repository of familiarity and untapped potential.
his restless fingers found solace in the quill, an instrument of creation and expression. yet, instead of purposeful strokes, they engaged in aimless fiddling, a subconscious act of seeking comfort in the familiar. the quill danced between his fingertips, its weight and texture grounding him in the present moment.
as time trickled by, his hand slowly maneuvered with deliberate relaxation.
the quill hovered mere inches above the pristine expanse of the paper, its poised tip a conduit for the thoughts that swirled within his mind. the ink droplets within the quill began to fall, each one a testament to the passage of time and the stillness that enveloped him.
then, with a leisurely descent—the quill found its mark upon the page, leaving behind a trail of ink as he transcribed the words that lingered in his thoughts. beginning another silent conversation between the depths of his mind and the blankness of the paper.
if i had known that i’d be assigned with that idiot on the mission, i wouldn’t have even waited for their arrival.
eh. i guess they were somewhat useful..for baiting the demon.
the words upon the page bore the unmistakable mark of apathy, as if they had been woven with little to no effort. lines connected words haphazardly, yet he remained unperturbed by their disarray.
a mere blink was his response to the warm embrace of the rising sun's rays streaming through the window, causing him to momentarily shield his eyes. his lids fluttered, adjusting to the light.
shifting slightly, he raised his head, casting a glance towards the window. the sight of the morning's arrival beckoned his attention, a gentle reminder of the passing hours that had slipped away unnoticed.
would you look at that... it's morning already, and i haven't even managed a wink of sleep yet.
a yawn escaped his lips, an involuntary reflex brought forth by the weariness that engulfed him.
craning his head to the right, he raised a hand, fingers reaching out to massage the tense muscles at the back of his neck. the physical sensation provided a fleeting respite from the mental strain that weighed upon him.
tearing his gaze away from the luminous frame of light, his attention returned to the page before him.
the letters—now seemingly slid onto the page without care—formed words that appeared smudged or messy. yet, his response was one of detached observation, his eyes trailing along the inked lines as if merely skimming their surface. his mind adrift in a sea of fatigue and contemplation.
a wistful breath escaped his lips, carrying with it a tinge of reflection. to think that in the end, he found himself aiding them, joining forces with those he once regarded with a mix of skepticism and reservation. vague memories of their coordination and shared battles flickered in his mind, a testament to their surprising competence.
irony hung in the air, as he ever-so begrudgingly acknowledged the decency of their skill, granting them the credit they deserved.
but to say that he still harbored a grudge would be an overstatement. time had a way of blurring the sharp edges of resentment, softening the sting of past grievances.
he had moved on—or at least strived to do so—simply because he no longer wished to expend mental energy on such affairs.
of course, the reasoning behind their initial encounter still eluded him. the circumstances that had brought them together remained shrouded in mystery, a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into the larger picture.
yet, despite this lack of understanding, he had chosen to extend his assistance.
it was a matter of reciprocity, an unspoken agreement that demanded the return of the favor. they had aided him, and so he, in turn, had done the same.
but let it be known that his actions were certainly not born out of deliberate intention. it wasn't a calculated decision to seek their gratitude or favor. no, he had been driven solely by his sense of duty, a commitment to vanquish the demon that had threatened their lives. their expressions of gratitude that followed were—in his perception—unwarranted and unnecessary.
don’t get him wrong, it wasn't a matter of rejecting their appreciation out of disdain or arrogance. it was simply a matter of perspective. he saw his actions as obligations fulfilled, his purpose aligned with the task at hand. the gratitude they offered was an unexpected byproduct, an outcome that held little significance in the grand scheme of his mission.
unbeknownst to him—his head gradually dipped lower, a subtle surrender to the weight of exhaustion. his eyes, utterly heavy with weariness, would occasionally flutter open, a futile effort to rouse himself from the encroaching grasp of sleep.
but little did he know, there existed a vast realm of his true intentions beneath the surface of his consciousness, waiting to be explored, waiting to unveil its secrets—a landscape of an undiscovered reality and hidden depths lay dormant, longing to be discovered.
yet, in his current state, he remained oblivious to the elusive wonders that lay within.
oblivious to the possibilities that awaited him, he continued to battle the encroaching embrace of sleep, unaware of the treasures that could be unearthed once he relinquished his conscious hold.
but perhaps, in due time, the mist would lift, and he would come to realize the vastness that lay hidden within, embracing the unknown with open arms and truly delving into the depths, and alas reaching a benevolent understanding of his own subconscious.
soon enough, he found himself absentmindedly twirling a petal between his fingers as he entered the room. his focus remained fixated on the delicate blossom even as his hand closed the door behind him, and even as he made his way towards the mirror.
gradually, he lifted his gaze, his eyes settling on the flower crown adorning his head. the sakura petals, masterfully intertwined, caught his attention, their beauty captivating his senses.
with an almost contemplative look, he then raised the petal he held to eye-level, keenly studying its intricate details.
of all people, who would have thought he'd be adorning something as whimsical as this? it seemed that over time, through some inexplicable force, he had found himself repeatedly crossing paths with an individual he had once deemed a nuisance.
bizzarely, he discovered that he often engaged in small conversations with them—or rather—they spoke while he found himself lost in his own thoughts as usual, staring at the wispy clouds.
however, that habit of his had not lasted long with them.
he recalled a time when he unexpectedly began sparing a not-so discreet glance for the person who stood beside him, whilst internally pursuing his own musings while they carried on with their activities.
perhaps it was because he secretly wished for their presence to vanish? he had made his feelings abundantly clear, even voicing his desire to be rid of them. yet, they stubbornly persisted, undeterred by his dismissive attitude.
and so, he had resigned himself to their constant presence, reluctantly accepting the fact that they would be a part of his daily life.
today, it was he who stumbled upon them—a reversal of their usual encounters.
he couldn't help but note the uncharacteristic silence that enveloped them, a departure from their usual chatter.
enveloped in a realm of heightened intrigue, his inquisitive spirit awakened. his gaze, like a wandering star, was drawn to the focal point that held their rapt fascination.
with an arched ascent, his eyebrows mirrored his amazement. majestically poised, a resplendent tapestry unfolded before him—a bountiful cherry blossom tree, its branches bedecked in resplendent blooms. the sakura petals—akin to balletic maestros—pirouetted gracefully through the air, composing a symphony of ethereal enchantment.
in that instant, he comprehended the rationale behind their entranced stare. the vision of the grand cherry blossom tree, its delicate petals dancing with elegance, possessed an irresistible charm that surpassed his customary indifference. it stood as a tableau of organic marvel, another spectacle capable of evoking a latent response within him, even if he had not fully embraced it until now.
blinking in a manner reminiscent of an owl, he returned to the present moment.
ultilizing both hands, he delicately removed the flower crown from his head. unusually, he handled it with an exceptional tenderness, treating it as though it were a fragile treasure he was determined to preserve with utmost care.
however, inexplicably, he decided to place it adjacent to his notebook. then, his attention shifted back to the petal he had held throughout the entire process, and a subtle downturn of his lips coupled with a slight furrowing of his brows betrayed his disappointment.
the petal appeared slightly crumpled... perhaps he should have focused on it first before removing the crown?
his head instinctively tilted as he contemplated the past. unbeknownst to him, the fact that he was investing such reflection into a... gift—as they had claimed it to be—went entirely unnoticed.
an idea flickered to life within the recesses of his mind, though it may not have been grand in scale.
with a sense of purpose, he resolved to safeguard this newfound notion within the pages of his trusty notebook instead of just noting them down much like the previous, yet now said to be countless of times he did so. it wasn't that he had no intention of exploring the idea further; rather, he held a silly belief that by preserving the delicate petal within its confines, he would be able to summon fragments of today's events whenever he cast his gaze upon it.
it was, undoubtedly, a risky endeavor.
the transience of memory and the fragility of moments made such attempts at preservation inherently uncertain. yet, undeterred by the potential pitfalls, he was determined to give it a try.
there was a spark of hope that momentarily alighted within his ever-so dull eyes as he carefully placed the petal between the pages, allowing it to find its place amidst the inked words and scribbled thoughts.
in his mind, the notebook was like a vessel of recollection, the doorway through which he could access the essence of that particular day.
with each passing glance, he believed he would be transported back to the sights, sounds, and emotions that had colored his experience. it was a belief steeped in a touch of magic, a genuine desire to capture the essence of fleeting moments and keep them alive in some tangible form.
of course, he understood the inherent risk of such an endeavor. memories could be fickle, subject to the passage of time and the distortions of perception—that he knew all too well, yet, he couldn't resist the allure of the notion, the tantalizing prospect of preserving a piece of today's events within the pages of his notebook.
thus, he closed the notebook—sealing the petal within its protective embrace. only time would reveal whether his whimsical idea would bear fruit. but for now, he carried a glimmer of anticipation, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, he had found a way to capture the essence of the present and carry it with him into the future.
one day, on the verge of departing for the swordsmith village, he found himself casting a final glance around his room.
as his eyes scanned the space, they landed upon a particular object resting undisturbed on the table, alongside a vibrant, circular rosy crown. yet, his gaze lingered upon the sight of the flowers, a momentary pause in his preparations.
was there something he was forgetting?
he brushed off the thought, convincing himself that it was nothing of importance.
or was it?
perhaps a faint inkling nagged at the back of his mind, suggesting that there was more to it than he initially believed.
without realizing it—he was drawn across the room, his steps guided by an unseen force.
he found himself crouching down near the designated area, his hand reaching out to flip through the pages of his notebook. however, his action was halted as his eyes caught sight of a roseate petal nestled within the notebook's pages.
curiosity sparked within him, and he raised an eyebrow as he gingerly plucked the petal from its sanctuary. absentmindedly, he twirled it between his fingers, a gesture that felt oddly familiar, inducing a sense of déjà vu.
but where had he witnessed such a scene before?
as he pondered, a realization dawned upon him. It wasn't a memory of witnessing someone else engage in this action; rather, it was he himself who had performed it.
a surge of recollection washed over him, memories resurfacing from the depths of his mind. the twirling of the petal, the sensation between his fingertips—these were gestures he had made before, though their significance had slipped from his conscious grasp.
In that singular moment, the forgotten fragments of his own past intertwined with the present, weaving together a tapestry of connections that transcended time.
recognition dawned upon him with a sudden clarity. it was from that day—the day where a sensation so tender and poignant stirred within him, almost like a bittersweet ache, evoking a warmth that eluded his understanding, leaving him unable to grasp its true essence.
the memory resurfaced, vivid and potent, as he held the petal in his hand. it was a symbol—a relic that carried the weight of a significant moment, a moment that had shaped him in ways he had yet to fully comprehend.
as his gaze shifted between the delicate petal and the floral circlet, he couldn't help but acknowledge their significance. they were gifts, given to him by that same person whose presence had once been a source of annoyance, but had since become intertwined with his life in ways he never anticipated.
a subtle flicker of a smile danced across his features, fleeting yet unmistakable.
it was a ghost of a smile, evoking a sense of warmth and nostalgia. just like that very same day, beneath the sakura tree.
after a few more contemplative moments, he gently placed the petal back within the pages of his notebook. it was an act imbued with a renewed sense of curiosity and introspection.
as he carefully tucked it away, he recognized that this petal held more than just a fragment of his present—it also served as a tether to his past.
standing up, he straightened his attire, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed during his moment of reflection.
leaving the room behind, he stepped forward, his footsteps carrying him away from the familiar and towards the villa—yet, as he ventured forth, he carried with him the knowledge that within the depths of his own experiences, there were secrets waiting to be unveiled. these hidden truths, veiled within the recesses of his own identity, held the potential to guide him closer to understanding who he truly was.
muichiro’s brows knit together, his eyes narrowing slightly as he winced, perusing the passages he had penned not long ago—but in that period, he found himself at the nadir of his existence, akin to a vessel housing an empty soul, where the flicker of life seemed to wane within him.
immersed in the depths of his own written words, a wave of self-critique washed over him. the realization of his perceived deficiencies bore down heavily upon his psyche.
was my prose truly so lackluster?
his countenance contorted into a visage of melancholic discontent. he couldn't help but introspect on his conduct and acknowledge the impoliteness he had exhibited. it pained him to recognize the echoes of his late twin brother within himself, bearing the burden of both his loss, and their shared flaws.
a tinge of remorse lingered as he ran a hand through his hair, grappling with the repercussions of his actions.
yet, amidst the remorse, his spirits gradually ascended as he reminisced on a separate recollection—the instant when he emerged from his coma, their unwavering presence by his side.
that memory bestowed a glimmer of solace, softening his somber expression. they had been dumbfounded, incapable of containing their emotions upon witnessing his awakening.
in that fleeting moment, they had clung to him fervently, as if he were their vital lifeline. though their embrace—much to his dismay—had swiftly slackened upon realizing his frailty, the impact of their initial response eternally etched in his consciousness.
reflecting upon that juncture, a smile graced his lips. he held no remorse for his instinctive reaction to embrace them, despite his own corporeal anguish.
a gentle flush tinged his cheeks as he sensed that familiar flutter in his heart, impelling him to tilt his head inquisitively.
“that feeling again...” he mused—this time, aloud—as he rose a hand to the region where his heartbeat, almost amplifying with its errancies—resided. his gaze descended, fixated upon that enigmatic yet captivating feeling. curiously pirouetted in his eyes, a pure and guileless yearning for comprehension.
he contemplated the prospect of unraveling the enigma at the butterfly mansion, where he might unearth the veracity behind this inexplicable sensation.
maybe, it was naught but a lingering malady, an unseen affliction that had eluded his awareness. he mulled over the displeasing notion, recognizing the imperative to illuminate the puzzle that lay dormant within him.
little did he fathom the profundity of what lay ahead, the intricate tapestry of emotions and connections that awaited him.
if only he comprehended the significance of that flutter in his heart, the profound impact it would wield upon his odyssey.
several weeks had elapsed, and once more he found himself clutching his notebook, as if it were an extension of his being.
resting against the wall, he clasped the item firmly in his grasp, his gaze wandering towards the window as he settled into a seated position. with his knees drawn up to his chest, they formed an improvised tabletop, providing a stable surface for him to write on.
the room was bathed in the spill of moonlight, bestowing upon it a tranquil luminescence that infused the scene with ethereal allure. positioned at the precipice of the empty page, his quill poised like a delicate dancer, he sensed a surge of anticipation welling within him.
it had been a while since he had last visited the notebook, let alone written in it.
initially, this realization held a tinge of sadness. however, he began to view it as a form of success—a testament to his growth and progress—he no longer needed the notebook as a vessel for his memories, as he had learned to hold them within himself without the fear of them dispersing from his mind.
although he had been reluctant to let go of the notebook in the beginning, fearing that he would regress to his former self, he gradually grew accustomed to relying less on its pages. this change was thanks to a certain someone who had provided him with remarkable encouragement and support along the way.
speaking of that someone..
a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reminisced about the unfolding events.
at long last, he had mustered the courage to convey his heartfelt gratitude to them for rescuing him on that fateful day of their initial encounter. in retrospect, he finally recognized how his own negativity had obscured the fact that his concern and guilt had driven his actions, leading to harm befalling their well-being.
with the weight of unexpressed appreciation lifted from his shoulders, a profound sense of contentment and relief settled within him.
it felt really good.
and relieving too. i’m glad to finally be able to appreciate them properly now.
the words resonated within him, echoing the profound impact this newfound expression of gratitude had on his relationship with them as he lowered his quill onto the waiting page, he began to write, capturing the essence of his gratitude in ink. the words flowed freely, a testament to his newfound ability to express his appreciation and to cherish the moments that had led him to this point.
in that quiet room, with the moon as his witness, he continued to write, allowing his emotions to spill onto the pages, creating a tangible record of his gratitude and the growth he had achieved.
naturally, he expressed his gratitude to shinobu as well, for she was the catalyst that set the entire endeavor in motion.
however, he couldn't deny that his experience with that particular individual had left a deeper impact on him, resonating within his being in a way that he couldn't easily dismiss.
we made origami today.
was if their first time? i wouldn’t believe it at all if they said yes, they did amazing.
the corners of his mouth lifted even further, a radiant smile spreading across his face. pride swelled within his chest as he reminisced about the moment when he, much like they had done beneath the sakura tree during the day—left his creations with them as a souvenir—a heartfelt gift.
his eyes fluttered, lids half-lowered, as his smile softened. the memory of their laughter resonated in his ears, a joyful sound that echoed through his mind. it was a honeyed melody, harmonious and timeless, etched into his memories like a cherished tune he would never grow tired of.
in that moment, he felt a deep sense of connection and shared happiness. the blossoming of their laughter and their appreciation had filled him with a profound sense of fulfillment.
i made them laugh, their smile truly is adorable.
i want them to stay happy.
an undeniably childish wish.
..i wanna be the reason they do.
a selfish, yet reasonable desire.
i could just say it outright, but...
his thoughts trailed off, contemplating the words he longed to express.
his heart swelled with a mixture of emotions, and yet, there was a hesitancy that held him back. the idea of openly conveying his yearning to be their source of joy brought forth an inexplicable feeling, a blend of anticipation and seldom vulnerability.
with a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back, seeking a moment of respite.
however, to his dismay—he misjudged the distance and inadvertently hit the wall with more force than intended. the impact elicited a wince and a deadpan expression as a wave of discomfort washed over him.
“ouch..”
rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, he closed one eye, gritting his teeth in response to the pain. regret filled his thoughts as he berated himself for not considering the consequences of his actions.
"just why didn't I take that into consideration?" he muttered, a tinge of frustration evident in his mellow voice.
it was a momentary lapse, a reminder of the fallibility that resided within him. the physical discomfort mirrored the emotional unease he felt, a reminder that expressing his feelings came with its own set of risks and uncertainties.
no, he had abandoned his initial notion of visiting the butterfly mansion to have his ‘condition’ assessed. as due to being one of the hashiras, it was now his duty to train the lower-ranked individuals, aiming to help them awaken their own marks while enhancing their abilities.
in essence, he found himself devoid of the time needed to pursue his plan. although it was indeed a missed opportunity, he chose not to dwell on it excessively.
besides, none of his attributes seemed to have weakened, so he simply disregarded the occasional peculiar sensation blooming in his chest whenever thoughts of them arose, dismissing it as a mere figment of his imagination—a hallucination.
he let out a resigned breath, a sense of acceptance washing over him. his hand fell back to his side, but as he blinked, his gaze followed a petal as it slipped out of his notebook's grasp, gracefully descending onto the floor beside him.
his mouth formed a small "o" of surprise, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. he blinked thrice, processing the unexpected turn of events. however, his features soon softened, morphing into a tender expression as he retrieved the fallen petal.
solicitously cradling the delicate leaf between his fingers, he twirled it once more, marveling at its beauty. the petal really did hold a certain allure, captivating his attention and stirring memories within him.
"it’s as beautiful as i remember..” he whispered softly, a touch of nostalgia coloring his voice. in that simple petal, he found a reflection of past beauty, a reminder of moments that had touched his soul.
as he held the petal, he couldn't help but reflect on the transient nature of beauty and the fleeting nature of time. just like the petal, moments of beauty come and go, leaving only memories behind. yet, in that fleeting beauty, there is a sense of profound appreciation and wonder.
while the world could be cruel, he yearned to bask in the fragments of ephemeral glory and find joy in the fleeting moments. he’s now understood that life was a continuous stream of passing experiences, and he made a conscious effort to cherish each and every memory that crossed his path.
in the midst of this realization, an idea sparked in his mind—a realization that he had never written about the day beneath the sakura tree.
how had he overlooked such a profound and cherished memory?
a surge of exhilaration and eager anticipation flowed through him as he envisioned immortalizing that extraordinary day within the sacred confines of his notebook. the memory, a veritable trove of exquisite beauty, served as a poignant emblem of life's fleeting nature and the timeless significance of shared experiences.
with a determined resolve, he opened the notebook to a fresh page, his quill poised to bring the memory to life through ink. the sakura tree, with its delicate blossoms fluttering in the breeze, held a significant place in his heart. it was a sanctuary of beauty, a haven where he had experienced a profound connection with another soul—with them.
….
as the final words pirouetted gracefully upon the page, he tenderly closed his eyes, his velvety lashes caressing his cheek in a delicate dance. in this ephemeral interlude, he granted himself a stolen breath, a cherished opportunity to savor the essence of the memory once more. the day spent beneath the resplendent sakura tree had been etched with profound artistry upon the sanctums of his heart, and now, like a cherished relic, it had found its eternal dwelling within the cradle of his notebook's pages.
a contented smile graced his visage as he delicately sealed the notebook shut, its once blank canvases now adorned with fragments of his existence—a treasury of treasured recollections.
on that day, they looked exactly like a dream—all i’ve wanted, all i’ve ever needed.
the parchment succumbed to the deluge of your cascading tears, becoming drenched and sodden, as if thirstily drinking in the sorrow that overflowed from your heart. with a poignant gaze, you traversed the final passage, each word a painful reminder of the bittersweet victory that had come at the cost of his absence.
weariness weighed heavily upon your eyes, threatening to seal them shut, yearning for respite from the harsh grip of reality. your trembling lips contorted, caught in a delicate dance between joy and sorrow, forming a wistful smile that held the essence of longing. in the sanctuary of your other hand, cradled with tender reverence, lay the very petal you had once bestowed upon him. under the caress of the sun's gentle rays, it gleamed like an iridescent gem, casting a luminous glow that illuminated your tears, turning them into shimmering crystals of anguish.
geto, one of the many sentinel who had witnessed the entwined trial of your beloved and tanjiro, could offer naught but a humble bow, his head lowered in utmost deference. he understood the futility of his desire to provide solace through an embrace, recognizing the unfathomable depths of the pain that gripped your soul. as you clung tightly to the notebook he had dutifully delivered, he stood as a silent witness to your inconsolable sorrow.
in the realm of young love, tragedy often unfolds with a poetic grace.
like a tapestry woven from wisps of a dream, your intertwined forms swayed in the breeze, as if caught in the ethereal embrace of destiny. and as the wind whispered its gentle secrets through the tendrils of your existence, the memory, forever enshrined, would reside as an indelible impression within the chambers of your collective memories, transcending the boundaries of time and spanning an unfathomable infinity.
MUICHIRO TOKITO—or the mist pillar, rather—had always been renowned for his airheaded demeanor, a demeanor that rendered him unapproachable by many.
truly, he was a man of difficult reach, his impassive countenance instilling fear in those who approached.
so, picture this—imagine the bewilderment one’s face would have when they catch sight of him smiling and giggling like the young boy he actually is.
you were his exception, the one capable of dismantling this wall with the mere weight of your words.
he, somewhat, held a belief that a human's words held paramount importance.
but yours, oh, yours were simply too profound.
yes, you read that correctly.
even before tanjiro, you had the fortune of uncovering muichiro’s lovely hidden interior.
he had even consistently made it abundantly clear that he would go to great lengths to ensure your safety.
what an extraordinary accomplishment! and as long as it wasn't a mere dream—which you knew it wasn't—evidenced by muichiro’s tendency to embrace you with affection, a sight many envy.
pay no heed to their jealousy. just stand proud, for you are his one and only.
DESTINY. that capricious force akin to the bittersweet conclusion of tragic fates, had long since wielded its cruel hand.
yet, amidst the delicate interplay of life and death, a singular anomaly emerged—satoru gojo—an irresistibly peculiar being adorned with gifted endowments bestowed by the very heavens themselves.
he, the self-proclaimed harbinger of destiny's blessings, carried within him a profound sense of purpose and significance.
alas, it is a lamentable truth that even the possession of such a grandiose title holds no power to rescue or shield those in need.
forlornly, we witness the bitter reality that the mere proclamation of a lofty designation cannot serve as a panacea to alleviate the trials and tribulations of others.
"don't even try closing your eyes."
young, naive and foolish. the honoured one beseeched, his countenance etched with an unmistakable worry—bereft of the customary shielding of sunglasses that customarily veiled sight of his otherworldly irises of azure.
his resplendent eyes—now bared—gleamed with a mesmerizing confluence of sentiments.
it was an unprecedented spectacle, witnessing him so palpably anxious and emotionally invested.
deep within, he harbored a profound remorse, cognizant of his inability to employ a reverse technique—that elusive skill—to aid you in this despair-induced juncture.
"shoko's on the way. she'll heal you."
"quit being so damn stubborn and listen to me."
he assured confidently, his typical arrogant utterances suffused with both conviction and hope.
yet, as he spoke—it appeared as though he inadequately grasped the gravity of your state or purposefully averted his gaze—fixating instead upon the illusory prospect of an inevitably fruitless convalescence.
no, you’re not dying.
he mindlessly repeated to himself—as if caught in an bewitching refrain that echoed ceaselessly within the chambers of his delusions.
the words—like a hypnotic melody—entwined themselves around his thoughts, weaving a tapestry of false reassurance.
in the grip of his illusions—he clung to this fragile mantra, desperately seeking solace in its rhythmic cadence.
yet, deep down, a flicker of awareness whispered of the truth obscured by his fervent repetitions.
reality—unyielding and immutable—loomed ever closer, despite his desperate attempts to stave it off with a haunting refrain.
with a blend of earnest gravity and feigned jocularity—despite the quivering timbre of his voice—he appended,
“don’t you dare die, or ill never let you live it down.”
his eyes bore into yours with an unwavering intensity that seemed to penetrate the tumult enfolding you—unveiling a vulnerability he seldom divulged to others.
in that gaze, the tenacity of his resolution and the profoundness of his connection to you became palpable—as if the burden of your well-being rested solely upon his shoulders.
“live it down, you say?..”
a desiccated chuckle escaped your lips as the wretch persisted. how imbecilic could this fool possibly become?
“satoru..”
not long after, your body convulsed with a fit of coughs triggered by the mere act of speaking, the fragility of your condition became starkly apparent.
yet, even still—it was unmistakable that he clung to denial, unabashedly rejecting the unassailable truth.
yes, you were dying—indeed, you were teetering on the precipice of demise.
there existed naught but remorse and lamentation.
"stop talking! for fucks sake, y/n—“
he inhaled a tremulous breath, as if seeking composure amidst a tempestuous tempest raging within his soul.
his eyelids clenched shut with an ardent fervor, as though he were frantically endeavoring to elude the clutches of reality in one final, desperate gambit.
“please—just..”
“just listen to me, and do as I say. please.”
with each uttered word, a sense of desolation burgeoned, casting a somber shade upon his countenance.
“y/n..”
yet, these words bore a weight surpassing mere despondency. every syllable dripped with a venomous essence, tainted by a profound self-abhorrence that seemed to turn inward.
it was as though his very voice had transformed into a conduit for self-loathing, a vessel through which frustration and disillusionment coursed.
he berated himself for completely contradicting his egoistical claims.
he despised—loathed himself.
he detested his own folly, castigating himself for what he perceived as a feeble inability to lend aid. the underlying contradiction between his self-aggrandizing proclamations and his actual capabilities stoked the fires of his self-directed animosity.
within the depths of his being, an infernal tempest raged, a battlefield of inner turmoil where he grappled with the demons of self-hate. the echoes of his own voice reverberated, seemingly magnifying the intensity of his internal strife, amplifying the magnitude of his self-loathing.
he loathed the hold you have on him, stirring up a storm of emotions within his being. the turmoil you evoked within him was a source of deep resentment.
but above all else, what he despised the most was the inexplicable extent to which he cared for you.
he despised the fact that, despite everything and anyone else, he couldn't help but like you, adore you, and ultimately choose to love you.
the intensity of his hatred stemmed from the realization that his heart had chosen a path that he had not intended to follow. he resented the vulnerability that loving you exposed within him, and the power you held over his emotions.
in the depths of his inner turmoil, he grappled with conflicting emotions. while he may have wished to resist and deny the depth of his feelings, the truth remained that his heart had made its choice, despite his best efforts to resist it.
this contradiction between his hatred for the circumstances and his genuine affection for you created a profound inner struggle, intensifying his frustrations and exacerbating the complexity of his emotions.
it frustrated him, angered him even, that his emotions had become entangled with your presence. the vulnerability that accompanied this caring, this attachment, felt like a weakness he resented.
in his innermost thoughts, he grappled with the paradox of his feelings. the profound disdain for the impact you had on him clashed with the undeniable truth that his heart held a deep and unexplainable affection for you.
it was a conflict that gnawed at his core, leaving him torn between his aversion and the undeniable pull of his care.
"oh?..what have we here...”
despite the gravity of your state, you conjured the wellsprings of fortitude to articulate phrases—effectively jolting him from his reverie, as he clung to your every word like a vital thread. each syllable echoed with a poignant cough, reverberating through the fragile contours of your agonizing form.
the inexorable verity loomed, an inescapable specter—your grievous wounds would inevitably claim your life, a harsh reality especially within the realm of sorcerers from which there was no evasion.
and so, in a hushed whisper, your voice tapering off amidst another bout of coughing, the violence of it serving as a stark reminder of your vulnerability. yet, deep within, you harbored a profound cognizance of the path that lay ahead.
"satoru gojo... of all people.”
you provocatively taunted, your words imbued with both resignation and a trace of sorrow.
in that very moment, you apprehended the cruel irony of their circumstances, the whimsical caprices of fate that had entangled their lives. the weight of your impending fate pressed upon you, and you couldn't help but ponder if it would elicit any emotions within him.
"--are you going to cry?”
with a subtle curl gracing the corner of his lips, he meticulously observed every movement, every flicker in your eyes, and every breath you took. he made a conscious effort to etch each detail into the recesses of his memory. It seemed as though you possessed an uncanny ability to perceive his emotions with remarkable clarity, despite his best efforts to conceal them.
however, as his expression shifted to one of solemnity, a faint trace of melancholy colored his features.
the question you posed had struck a deeply personal chord within him, one he never anticipated having to confront.
your words resonated within the sixteen-year old male, his unwavering gaze fixed upon yours. a sense of anguish mingled with the realization that you, y/n, had seen through him like an open book.
unable to suppress the tears that welled up in his eyes, he swiftly brushed them away, striving to maintain a composed facade.
"no, of course not.”
his response emerged, delivered with the expected composure and confidence. yet, a glimmer in his eyes betrayed the facade, hinting at an inner turmoil that consumed him.
the conflicting emotions etched upon his countenance, the raw sorrow intertwined with resolute determination, were familiar sights you had come to recognize during your time together.
at the very least, he had been stirred by the irony of the situation. but what lay beneath the surface?
his lips curved into a solemn smile, though his eyes conveyed a different tale altogether.
he couldn't help but smirk slightly in response to your teasing, his unwavering irises never once straying from your perfect ones. how dare you utter such words...
you managed to elicit a smile from him, causing his typically smug facade to momentarily contort into a faint frown, though his expression swiftly returned to its customary coolness.
the gravity of your condition had not escaped the impact it had on the sorcerer standing before you. however, it appeared that the full severity of the situation seemingly had yet to fully dawn upon his young fellow. and with mere moments remaining before your impending demise...
"me? cry—over you? what a joke.”
he retorted, pausing momentarily. his smirk faltered—as if on the precipice of speaking with a tone devoid of jest—as if the barriers he had erected had momentarily crumbled.
"do not flatter yourself. tears may suite me, but I don’t need that amplifying my perfection.”
regardless, his voice remained low and harsh, devoid of the usual playful edge and trademark amusement that characterized his interactions with you.
though the expression in his eyes remained unaltered, a certain stiffness was evident in his speech, as if he were still uncertain where else to direct his overwhelming thoughts and emotions.
as he continued to observe you, a solemnity settled over his previously neutral features. you could sense his burgeoning grief, his thoughts racing against the inexorable passage of time, yearning desperately for even the faintest glimpse of a solution.
his response was a feeble attempt to mask his emotions, his voice quivering, and his eyes still shimmering with unshed tears.
though his words denied it, his body language spoke volumes.
his pretty cerulean irises glistened with unshed tears, his heart pounding in his chest. he had anticipated her demise for far too long, believing he had grown accustomed to it, deeming it an inevitable outcome.
but now, as your final breaths escaped your lungs, the weight of your departure struck him with the force of a thousand bricks, reality seeping in for the first time. he had failed. his overwhelming pride and hubris had blinded him to the possibility of defeat. he had failed his long-time peer—his classmate, his friend.
the weight of failure bore heavily upon him, for he believed he had let down the one person who held the most profound place in his heart—the one he cherished above all others romantically, the soul he held dear.
the depth of his love for you only amplified the agony of his perceived failure. he blamed himself for not meeting the expectations he had set, for not being able to provide the happiness and fulfillment you deserved. the pain of falling short in your gaze was an unbearable burden he carried—leaving him haunted by the knowledge that he had failed the one person who truly held his heart.
"...yes, i am going to cry, you idiot."
contrary to his perception, it was not you who struggled to accept your fate, but rather, it was he who clung to seemingly everlasting denial.
while he grappled with the reality of the situation, you had long since come to terms with the inevitable outcome. you had made peace with the circumstances that destiny had dealt, finding solace in the acceptance of what lay ahead.
the dichotomy between your acceptance and his denial created a rift, deepening the emotional chasm between you.
despite your readiness to face the truth, he remained entrenched in a state of refusal, unable to confront the impending reality.
the exquisite interplay of sentiments, wherein the embrace of acceptance magnified the enigmatic dance between your emotional odysseys, illuminated the paradoxical tapestry of contradictory.
eager to traverse the expanse, he yearned to forge a bridge, yet were ensnared by the magnetic allure of diverging destinies—proximity rendered illusory, a poignant dance of nearness and seeming remoteness.
while your hearts may have harmonized in tempo, the dissonant discord into the fabric of your emotional realms served as a haunting refrain, a vivid reflection to the divergent trajectories of your conclusions.
if only the revered one possessed the authority to sculpt fate with a touch of influence, weaving threads of destiny like a master artisan shaping the sinuous hell of time.
his visage, seemingly untouched by the passage of time, betrays no hint of emotion—the enigmatic water pillar.
BEHOLD THE AQUEOUS HASHIRA—a figure of immense might, an indomitable slayer of demons, perpetually adorned with an unfaltering countenance.
how could someone of such chilling detachment find himself entangled in a circumstance so imbued with romance?
nay, it is a marvel beyond comprehension, a convergence of fate's whims and the questionable allure that resides within the depths of his icy soul.
through a gentle fade-in, the enchanting scene unfurls, unveiling a resplendent day bathed in the amenity of the sun.
the cerulean celesta stretched overhead, adorned with wisps of clouds, while a tranquil zephyr tenderly caresses the surroundings.
within this vast expanse, a lone little bird frolics merrily, its mellifluous melody imbuing the air with a dulcet serenade.
as the camera gradually pans out, a picturesque panorama, an embodiment of flawlessness in every intricate detail, is unveiled before our captured gaze.
drawing nearer to the glistening waters, our attention shifts to a youthful man.
perched at the water's edge, he immerses himself in the splendor of the vista, his senses enraptured by the lulling ambiance. in the embrace of the sun's affectionate rays, he discovers solace, a fleeting interlude of tranquil contemplation amidst the idyllic backdrop.
the water pillar—unburdened by the weight of his arduous duties and responsibilities—reclined in a state of serenity, his form motionless.
with closed eyes, he absorbed the resplendence of nature, inhaling deeply the magnificence that surrounded him, allowing his strained body to surrender to this wondrous respite.
simultaneously, his countenance underwent a subtle transformation—as the lines upon his face softened, lending an air of tranquility to his undeniably attractive visage.
a light breeze—as tender as a lover's touch—caressed his skin, while a subtle intuition alerted him to a presence drawing near.
yet, despite his awareness of this newcomer, he remained unmoved, neither acknowledging nor negating their existence.
instead, a sense of ease seemed to envelop him even more, as if the arrival of this individual brought him peace beyond measure.
his ears—acutely attuned to the symphony of the ambience—caught the faintest sound of leaves crunching underfoot, and he felt the grass swaying in response to the leisurely descent of the person settling beside him.
without the need to open his eyes, he could discern the identity of this newcomer, for the aura of familiar solace they emanated was unmistakable.
this atmospheric comfort—unique to this individual alone—could be recognized by him effortlessly, irrespective of place, day, or hour.
yet, it was not solely due to the rarity of those who would dare to engage with him on a consistent basis—although, in truth, that may have played a small part.
no, the deeper truth lies in the fact that this person—in particular—held a profound and irreplaceable position within the very core of his being.
the faintest of curls quivered upon the corners of his lips, a benevolent ripple of emotion that danced with an elliptical grace.
perplexed—he, too—struggled to grasp the intricate workings of this phenomenon, to comprehend the why and the how.
yet, amidst the muddled confusion, one thing remained undeniable—this inexplicable connection felt inherently right.
in your presence, he found a sense of belonging, a sanctuary where authenticity flourished. it was as if, in the embrace of your essence, he had finally returned home.
it was a pleasantly overwhelming sensation, a profound knowing that resonated deep within his soul.
everything about it felt undeniably right, as if the cosmic forces had conspired to orchestrate this union.
despite his reluctance to venture into new connections, deep within the recesses of his soul, a tender whisper of destiny caressed his spirit.
it softly insinuated that, against all odds, this particular connection may have been divinely orchestrated, as if written in the stars.
though his heart hesitated, a flicker of curiosity danced within him, beckoning him to explore the uncharted realms of this potential bond. for there was an undeniable appeal in the possibility that fate had woven their paths together, guiding them towards an extraordinary rendezvous.
in the face of his reservations, the tempting possibility of this preordained connection shimmered like a distant beacon, inviting him to embrace the untrodden path and discover the radical depths of what was meant to be.
it was as if the universe itself had guided their paths to intersect, to intertwine in perfect harmony.
within the adoring embrace of their presence, the water pillar—giyuu tomioka, forever adorned with stoicism and guarded walls—unearthed a momentary seclusion, a harbor of belonging, and an unwavering sense of being unequivocally at home.
in their company, his guarded façade melted away, revealing vulnerabilities long concealed.
in their presence, he discovered a retreat where he could unapologetically be himself, where the weight of his burdens was shared, and where his heart, and mind alike, found solace in the rhythm of their shared existence.
they became the anchor that grounded him, the guiding light that illuminated his path, encapsulating him in a laconic embrace that declared—
you were the sanctuary he had long sought, the haven where the water pillar's soul found its rest.
