100 Ways to Fall in Love
COMPLETE
100 oneshots with (almost) 100 different characters falling in love with you.
Words: 287,751
Threads of Affection
INCOMPLETE
10 oneshots featuring you in 10 different cliche chick flick movies.
Words: TBD
Of Shared Secrets, Stolen Kisses and Silent Hearts
INCOMPLETE - DISCONTINUED
A series of connected oneshots with different BNHA characters. How they met, fell in love grew with you.
Words: 9,018
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Story Series
Sunrise
INCOMPLETE - DISCONTINUED
A Dr. STONE reader insert.
Words: 131,990
Friend or Foe
COMPLETE
An Attack On Titan reader insert - Part 1.
Words: 223,748
Allies and Enemies
COMPLETE
An Attack on Titan reader insert - Part 2.
Words: 165,426
Heart Lottery
INCOMPLETE
Reverse Harem x Reader
Words: TBD
The Choices We Made (coming soon...)
INCOMPLETE
Milgram AU - Reader x Various
Words: TBD
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Flash Fiction
RED
COMPLETE
A personal piece I wrote and wanted to share
Words: 603
Fragments (coming soon...)
INCOMPLETE
A series of connected flash fiction pieces of your life from the perspective of the (anime) men that loved you.
Words: TBD (Aprox. 21,000+ total)
Sick of your boring dating life, your cousin downloads a dating app in hopes of spicing things up for you. Or at least what you and her think is a dating app. Unfortunately, it turns out you’ve instead become the next unwilling main character in a reality dating show as entertainment for some bored gods. Now you suddenly can’t stop running into their ‘chosen champions’ until you finally choose one of them to be with. And if you don’t choose one by the end of your season’s run time the gods will either choose one for you or you’ll end up cursed and forever alone.
Sick of your boring dating life, your cousin downloads a dating app in hopes of spicing things up for you. Or at least what you and her thin
A piece I wrote for my Creative Writing class and wanted to share.
Red.
Like blotches of paint scattered across the floor.
The colour of love is red and I imagine, if people had colours, it would also be the colour of you. I see red when I think of you. From your flushed cheeks to the precious fabrics that adorned your skin; it was always the colour red that suited you best. Your companion and dearest friend through the years. It was always strange how you referred to a colour as a friend but I suppose I never did have quite the same flare for dramatics as you. Never the same burning flame of an engine.
You were always so alive in red.
Red, like the dress you were wearing the first night we met. A dance of twirls and spins amidst a chaotic road. A flashing light in the darkness. A reflective sign in the night.
Crimson, like the bottle of wine from the top shelf that I had specifically picked in hopes of impressing you. Filled to the brim with excitement and anticipation. The thrill of the unknown garnished with the chance of rejection. Precipitation around the edges of the glass slowly dripping down like droplets of rain.
Carmine, like the fancy high heels you always used to wear. One left forgotten as you rushed away like Cinderella escaping the last stroke of midnight. A souvenir to remember you by now left alone on the cold ground.
Auburn, like the loose strands of hair plastered up against the shower wall (lest they fall down the drain) after a long needed shower. Sometimes it resembled a spider all bunched up. Or like the long strands of hair scattered across the ground as you take your leave after a long and strenuous day.
Cherry, like the midnight snack we snuck before bed. You’d been so hesitant and skeptical. Eating after brushing your teeth. Your lips stained as you mumble something about needing to get up in the morning.
Rust, like the bumper of your old car, soon to be weathered from nature’s merciless rain and snow. I brought it into the shop the other day despite your insistence for me not to. It wasn’t as if you had any place to be where I couldn’t take you.
Ruby, like the necklace I bought for you to match your birthstone. I saved up for months. It’s a shame you lost it so quickly after. Perhaps someone will find it amidst the mess you left behind.
Vermillion, like the little bird you kept in a cage. Listening to its song as it chirped wonderful melodies and sweet tunes. I wonder why you whispered in response. Such a pretty creature it was. Almost as pretty as you.
Scarlet, like the covers of useless books that filled your head with such silly notions.
You always looked your best in red. From the flush of your cheeks to the tattered fabrics that adorned your skin. The colour of love. The colour of you. Your sole companion at the end. Little things -and big things- that ultimately made up the moments of your life.
You always wondered why I had such a fondness for the colour red. Always asked about why I gifted you red dresses and carmine shoes. Crimson wines and ruby jewels. A silly question, though you always were one to ask silly things. Obviously it was because I loved you.
And love is red.
Red, like the colour of blood as it was splattered across the ground amongst shards of glass and glittering upon the pavement amidst the flashing lights.
An Interview Featuring Komori Motoya and (L/n) (Y/n). The two leads of the newest film "The Summer I Met You"
Fade In
Interviewer: Hi everyone, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today. Please give our latest co-stars, Mr. Komori Motoya and Miss. (L/n) (Y/n)!
Applause
The camera pans over to Komori and (L/n) who are sitting side by side on the couch and smiling politely to the camera.
Interviewer: I hope the two of you have had a good time here!
Komori: Yeah, everythings been going pretty smoothly.
(L/n): I especially love all snacks that are being provided~
Interviewer: laughs That’s good. So, how do the two of you feel now that the filming of the movie is finally finished?
(L/n): Relieved mostly. While I loved our time on set and getting to be on stage it’s nice to know that you’ve finished doing something, ya know?
Interviewer: Of course. And what about you, Mr. Komori?
Komori: Honestly, I’m a little disappointed.
Interviewer: Disappointed? Why?
Komori: There’s always going to be another movie or TV show that I’m filming on but I’m definitely going to miss the cast here. I’ve made so many life time friends and it’s sad that I won’t be getting to see them all everyday.
Interviewer: Anyone in particular that you’ll be missing?
Komori: Hmm? Well the director for sure. While he made us redo so many scenes I loved how nicely everything came together at the end. He really pushed me and helped to make me a better actor. Oh, and I’ll also miss my on set grandmother~
Audience: Aww!
Komori: I actually didn’t get to know my grandmother really well because she passed away when I was young so it was nice to be able to get that kind of figure in my life in this film.
Interviewer: Anyone else you’ll miss?
Komori: My sweet co-star, (Y/n), of course~
Interviewer: Oh? And what is it about Miss. (L/n) that you’ll be missing?
Komori: Well she’s an absolute delight to work with. She always looks at so many different things when it comes to interpreting and developing a character and I love that about her. It always makes me excited to come to set and see what she might be doing next. I think she brought so much depth to what feels like such a simple story.
Interviewer: How adorable. What about you, Miss. (L/n)? Will you miss Mr. Komori?
(L/n): Of course. He was one of the easiest actors I’ve ever had the chance to work with. And I’ll definitely miss all the times he’d do something silly whenever he thought the director wasn’t looking. It made him an absolute joy to work with while on set and helped to fill in all those otherwise boring and mundane moments.
Interviewer: It sounds like the two of you got along well! Do you think we’ll be seeing something else with the two of you in it soon?
Komori and (L/n) look between one another before smiling.
(L/n): I guess everyone else and the fans will just have to wait and see if there’s anything else in the works.
Komori: Don’t worry. I’ll be the first to let everyone else know, even if my manager says no.
Interviewer: So, everyone can practically see the chemistry between the two of you jumping off the screen! Did any of those feelings happen to follow the two of you off set? Maybe brew something more?
Komori: We’re just friends.
Disappointed sighs from the audience fill the room.
(L/n): And really good actors~
Komori: Or at least one of us is.
(L/n): Hey!
Komori winks playfully to the audience.
Komori: I’m only teasing.
Interviewer: Well, that’s a shame. I personally think the two of you would be such a cute couple. So, onto the next question… What was your favourite part about filming?
(L/n): The flower shop set for sure. It’s an actual place in real life and I feel so honoured that they allowed us to shoot there and I’m sure we interrupted the daily flow of things for sure. I absolutely loved how pretty everything was there. Honestly, everything just felt so alive and all the flowers they gave us to work with were actually real.
Komori: Yeah. The flower shop set was definitely one of the cooler ones that we got to see. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see more of the town. Everything there was so lively and warm. My favourite part about filming though was probably the last scene. It was so hard for me to get into the right mood and actually portray everything that I felt my character was feeling. The director and (Y/n) though were both so helpful when it came to making the shooting feel easier and helping me get into character. I hope it feels like the accumulation of everything that the story has been building up to and is a satisfying ending for everyone.
(L/n): Oh! I loved the last scene so much too! It’s the whole reason why I agreed to do this movie in the first place. My heart just fluttered when I saw how much the main characters meant to one another despite not knowing each other for that long.
Interviewer: So does that mean we can be expecting you in more romantic movies and series in the future, Miss. (L/n)?”
(L/n): Oh, for sure~ Honestly, I’m a bit of a hopeless Romantic~ I grew up watching chick flicks with my mother and they’re the whole reason why I became an actor in the first place. It’s such an honour that I’m able to act in films that made me fall in love with movies in the first place.
Interviewer: And what about you, Mr. Komori?
Komori: Hmm, maybe not romance for me but I hope I can do something everyone will like next.
Interviewer: Well, that’s just wonderful! That’s it for today everyone! Please give Mr. Komori Motoya and Miss. (L/n) (Y/n) another round of applause for being such wonderful and amazing guests. And don’t forget to head to theaters on January 23ed to see their newest film, The Summer I Met You.
Applause
Fade to Black
TUNE IN JANUARY 23, 2025, to read “The Summer I Met You”
A series of films featuring Hollywood's leading lady, you, and all your handsome co-stars. Rumors run rampant, especially when your chemistry on screen is undeniable. Nothing is confirmed but at least everyone gets to watch some (cheesy) cute movies.
Enjoy you, (Y/n) (L/n), in these 10 different chick flicks featuring classic romance writing tropes in classic romantic writing settings~
The Summer I Met You (coming soon...)
First Love x Flower Shop AU
Komori Motoya finds his summer plans ruined when his parents drag him over to his grandparents' home for the summer where absolutely nothing happens and practically no one lives.
This summer feels like just any other for (L/n) (Y/n). Helping around the garden; taking care of her younger siblings; and getting ready for the next school year ahead.
When fate brings the two of them together one can't help but wonder if something more could blossom.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content
Rewriting Our Story (coming soon)
Second Chance x Wedding AU
After building a successful life in the city for herself, (Y/n) (L/n) makes her way back home to celebrate the wedding of her best friend where she runs into the boy that broke her heart.
Porco Galliard didn't want to leave but what other choice did he have but to join the military when his family was in desperate need of some extra income?
Can the two of them overcome their differences or risk ruining the happy wedding?
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
It Was Always You (coming soon)
Friends-to-Lovers x School (Rooftop) AU
People had always told Sabito that life moves faster the older you get. He just didn't realize how much faster until it's the final week before you go off to university and he has yet to confess his feelings.
(Y/n) has spent the entirety if her high school life preparing for univeristy. Everything has gone perfectly. The only thing left now is to figure out why her best friend, Sabito, keeps on avoiding her.
Can Sabito muster up the courage to confess his love or will it forever remain unrequited?
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
The Distance Between Us (coming soon)
Aloof Couple x Bar AU
Everyone has always known that Sero Hanta and (L/n) (Y/n) were madly in love with one another... expect for the two of them.
Their friends embark on a seemingly impossible task as they attempt to get the unknowing couple to finally admit their feelings for one another.
It's only a matter of time before they finally get the hint, right?
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
Fake It 'Til You Feel It (coming soon)
Fake Dating x Traveling AU
Asagiri Gen, playboy extraordinaire, finds himself in need of a fake girlfriend after accidently getting into a scandal. So he finds himself enlisting the help of you, (L/n) (Y/n).
(Y/n) wasn't exactly sure what to think of when she was approached by Gen but the idea of a free trip around the world was enough to get her to agree. Besides, what's the worst that could go wrong?
No kissing; no intimacy; and most certainly no feelings involved. Which isn't a problem until Gen finds himself wanting to break all of those stupid rules that he himself made up.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
Make Me Fall For You (coming soon)
Betting x Coffee Shop AU
Everyone on campus knows that Geto Suguru could have whoever he wants. It's so well known that his friends decide to make a bet to see how long it takes for him to woo the girl that walks through those doors next.
(L/n) (Y/n), a quiet and respectful student, unknowingly makes a decision that will change her life forever when she chooses to take a detour for a cup of coffee and ends up walking through those doors next.
Everything seems to be going according to plan for Geto expect that maybe he's actually catching feelings for you too.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
When Worlds Collide (coming soon)
Different Worlds x School (Beneath the Tree) AU
Denji has never been the best student at school. Heck, he's never even really been the best at anything. But when the threat of expulsion starts to float over his head he's willing to try anything to stay in classes.
Which is how he ends up meeting (Y/n) (L/n). Denji's new tutor and the school's star student. The two of them are polar opposites that can't seem to agree on anything.
Luckily, (Y/n) agrees to stick it out as long as Denji willingly helps her with that dreaded extra credit assignment.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
Our Defining Moments (coming soon)
Forbidden Love x Office AU
Kaku spent the enterity of his life knowing that it belonged to someone else. That everything he did was for the betterment of his nation.
So, he can't help but start to think that something has gone wrong with him when all of his thoughts find themselves centering around a single woman. Is his heart supposed to beat as erratically as this? Is it normal to stutter this much?
(Y/n) (L/n) just wants to do her best. She loves her family and she loves her job. Plus, it helps that her new partner at work is easy on the eyes.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
Beat You To Getting Better (coming soon)
Rivals x Business AU
(L/n) (Y/n) lived her entire life knowing that she would one day inherit her family's business and take over. This of course leads to her fostering a hatred against whoever happened to be on the other side.
Gojo Satoru just so happens to be on the other side and can't stand (Y/n). Especially when she happens to be fighting for everything that he's trying to get away from.
The two of them end up stuck together after a mix up for an extended period of time and find they might just have more in common then they initially thought.
Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)
Memories of You and I (coming soon)
Childhood Friends x Going Back Home AU
Julian Loki and (Y/n) (L/n) were inseparable as children. One never found without the other. Of course, like all good things, the friendship eventually comes to an end when Loki has to move away.
Years later (Y/n) and Loki run into one another again but it seems like many things have changed.
Can the two of them overcome their differences and rekindle their friendship or will the time apart prove to be too vast a distance to overcome?
Quote: "Fall in love with someone that needs you by their side."
At least, no matter how brief this moment was, she was his.
“Close your eyes and make a wish, Reiner.” You say, watching eagerly as he holds the dandelion in his hand. The white seeds just asking to be swept away by the wind and blown away.
Reiner Braun gives you a nervous smile.
He never could say no to you.
He closes his eyes, thinking of something that he wants.
Not that Reiner thinks about it, there’s always been things that he wants. Many things in this world that he’s wanted from wanting to be accepted by his peers to wanting his family to finally be full. He wants to be liked by the people around him. He doesn’t want to be different. He doesn’t want to fall behind.
He isn’t sure of what he should wish for when there’s so many things in this world that he does want. So many things that he thinks he needs.
He peaks an eye open, looking over at you. You’re smiling warmly and expectantly, your eyes sparkling mischievously - the kind of smile that makes his heart race. Actually, all of your smiles make Reiner’s heart race.
You make his heart race.
He closes his eyes.
As Reiner takes a deep breath he finds the seeds of the dandelion no longer on the plant but in his mouth. You giggled, the clear (and only) culprit in the area.
Immediately Reiner turns to the side and spits out the dandelion seeds.
He pouts, “why’d you do that, (Y/n)?”
“Sorry,” you say, looking anything but apologetic, “I wanted to see if you’d fall for it.”
He frowns, “that was mean.”
You sigh, poking his cheek, “sorry.”
Reiner cheeks flush bright red as he turns away from you. He never could stay mad at you; especially when you’re looking up at him with such a bright and warm expression on your face. The kind of smile that’s specially reserved for him.
“Come on, Reiner,” you whine, “I promise I won’t do it again. Don’t be like that.”
He tries his best to fight back the grin that’s been playing on his lips, wanting to tease you back a little for your previous actions.
“Reiner.”
He clears his throat, “hm?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.”
“What? Come on!” You exclaim, resting your head on his shoulder, “it’s not even like dandelions taste that bad anyways. They’re more like… you know… seeds.”
He lets out a small chuckle when he finally turns to look at you.
You pout when you see that he’s smiling, shoving him lightly.
He grabs your hands, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, “first you’re gonna blow dandelion seeds into my mouth and then you’re gonna push me over? You’re breaking my heart over here, (Y/n).”
“Reiner!”
“(Y/n).”
His eyes soften as you look up at him, leaning into his warmth. He thinks that his heart skips a few beats and flutters. In his life, there have been many things that he’s wanted. Many things that he’s wished for and many more that he would eventually go on to wish for but all of those things felt small and insignificant. At least, they were insignificant compared to you.
Ever so distant and wonderful you.
At least, no matter how brief this moment was, she was his.
---
Reiner Braun shoots out of bed, his head hazy and his body sweaty and uncomfortable. The night sweats again.
At least it wasn’t a nightmare.
Nightmares are always the worst.
Leave him feeling scared and unsure.
Worried and unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling above and hope that the world doesn’t come crashing down and cave in on him.
He turns over to the cool side of his bed, hoping to find some reprieve and perhaps some dreamless slumber. It’s not a very certain hope but it’s the only one that comes to mind in such a state. The only thing he wants right now.
Well, it’s not the only thing he wants.
Reiner dreams about you quite a bit. They’re sweet and gentle dreams where you laugh and smile. So different from the cold and distant you that he’s familiar with now. Honestly, it’s a little hard for him. He wonders where dreams like this could have even formed in the first place. People say that dreams are unfinished thoughts of the conscious (thoughts you didn’t let yourself fully think while you were awake) but all of them seem to come from elsewhere. More like… memories from another lifetime than they are unfinished thoughts that he’s had throughout the day.
Sometimes he does actually think that they’re memories from another lifetime. A lifetime where perhaps the two of you weren’t forced to become monsters. A place where you both could have just been… children. Where you could smile happily and everything would just be alright if they pushed past this hurdle. A place where there wouldn’t always be a constant struggle to live. A purpose to exist at all.
Tonight, sleep doesn’t seem to want to be a companion of Reiner’s as he stares up blankly at the ceiling above his head. He’s restless - which is honestly a little surprising considering most nights he’s dead asleep from how much physical labour he put his body through during the day.
He supposes he just didn’t work as hard today. Oh well. He would just have to work harder in the morning. Really, nothing’s worse than staying awake all night without being able to sleep.
The clock hanging at the front of the room is ticking.
Just the worst.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Reiner lets out a groan as he pulls himself out of bed.
His body aches and his muscles scream for his movements to stop.
It’s unfortunate that the physical tiredness of his body is not able to overcome the restless nature of his mind.
He makes his way through the dark room and heads outside. He feels like he’s always done most of his best thinking outside, though that might have to do with the fact that he spends most of his time outside in the first place. He likes the feeling of the breeze against his skin and how the natural light seems to lighten the burden on his mind. It almost makes him feel lighter regardless of if it’s sunlight or moonlight. Just having light in general is enough for him. Well, almost enough.
Reiner finds himself enjoying the cool breeze tonight. Helps his skin, which burns hotter than the usual person, to feel normal. Or at least a semblance of normal. His skin never quite felt the same after the transformation. A little awkward and not quite right. He’d spoken to it with Zeke earlier but the only response that he had gotten was that it was simply another consequence of growing. Of being just another teenager. Reiner has never been just another teenager.
Sometimes, Reiner finds himself wishing that he could just be here. Him out alone in the world, listening to nothing but the gentle sounds of nature. Life would be so much simpler if things could just be like this. Things would simply just be; and that would be enough. He would be enough.
Movement in the corner of the room catches Reiner’s attention. He’s surprised to see you, sitting alone curled up and staring up at the sky. Well, of course you can be out here if you wanted to. What’s actually rather surprising for him is the fact that you’re out here alone.
Reiner doesn’t think he’s ever seen you really alone before. Without someone by your side to share your laughter.
Well, you aren’t laughing now.
You actually look rather… lonely.
You look a little like him.
He isn’t sure if he should head over to where you are or move.
Honestly, it doesn’t matter which one he does because in the end he finds himself unable to move.
He’s frozen to the spot.
Unable to speak.
And after what feels like forever, you turn to look at him.
“Reiner.” Your voice echoes as you say his name.
It reminds him a little of how you had said his name in that dream. There’s so much… emotion that it leaves him surprised. He can’t recall someone else ever saying his name in such a way. As if he matters so much to them but they can’t bear to take another step closer. Even in his dreams he doesn't think you’ve ever called out his name in such a way. Actually, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone else speak in such a way at all.
It makes his heart ache a little.
His brain reel back as if he’s trying to remember something that he can’t.
Slowly, his feet make their way over to you; his mind still reeling back and trying to keep up. It’s not doing a very good job at keeping pace with his feet as his eyes wander, looking everywhere except for you to hear that his heart might finally shatter and he’ll break out into those tears that he’s been trying so hard to hold back.
“What’re you doing out here?” Reiner hears him ask.
You shrug, “I guess I just wanted to be alone.”
“Oh, should I leave then?”
“Yes-” you cut yourself off, “no?”
He raises an eyebrow in response.
This is… unlike you. Reiner doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so conflicted before. That he’s ever seen you at such a loss for words. His heart is doing that weird thing again where it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest while his stomach twists in knots. It’s fluttering. He’s fluttering.
So are you.
“I uh,” you swallow, “I don’t know.”
“If you want me to stay?”
“I don’t know if I deserve to live.”
His heart breaks for you. You poor thing. He wants to drop down and wrap you in his arms and hold you close but he doesn’t think that you’d like it very much if he did something like that.
He doesn’t.
But he wants to.
The feeling you have feels so familiar but he can’t understand why.
“Why?” He asks shakily.
“What’s even the point of living?”
“We…” Reiner looks around, praying for an answer to come for the heavens. He doesn’t think they answer. He shakes his head, “we exist for the people who love us.”
“Ha,” you laugh dryly, “I’m not worthy of love.”
Finally he feet listen to him as he takes a seat beside you. He wraps you up in his arms. It feels a little bit like how it did in his dream and he laughs a little when you bury your face in his chest, holding onto him as if it’s the first time you’ve ever felt such warmth from someone else before.
Reiner brushes your hair back gently, “simply being born makes us worthy of being loved.”
“I want to live.”
It’s such a simple phrase that’s often overlooked. It’s something assumed as we look upon others. It is almost common sense to believe that each individual wants to live. Afterall, we are born into this world alive and wanting to live.
So why did you look so sad when uttering those words?
He hums softly to you as he rubs your hair soothingly. Or at least he hopes it’s soothing. He’s never really done this before so he isn’t sure if it’s something people like. Even his mother, bless her soul, was never really all that physically affectionate with Reiner. Should he run his fingers through your hair? Should he stop and rub your back instead? Do you like what he’s doing right now? Should he stop?
“Is this okay?” He asks.
You nod.
His heart skips a beat.
Love, to Reiner Braun, is you.
So of course, falling in love with you was the only thing that could happen.
Fall in love with someone that needs you by their side.
Miya Osamu falls in love like the falling of night over a city. Just like the cycle of day and night, it is certain to happen. While it appears that there is no physical change, everything suddenly feels different.
---
Osamu watches you curiously as you make a house of cards.
Your face is scrunched up in concentration, a slight crease between your brows and a determined look in your eyes. He finds it a little cute how you stick your tongue out slightly from the corner of your mouth.
He moves over slowly until he’s eventually standing beside you.
He can’t remember the last time he saw someone this concentrated over a simple house of cards. He thinks that it was maybe his brother back when they were nine? Back then Atsumu was pouting over losing a board game so he had opted to sit by himself making a house of cards instead spending time with the other children. Accidentally Osamu (or so Osamu claims) tripped and ended up bumping into his brother and sending the entire thing toppling down. Atsumu refused to talk for a while after that.
Osamu wonders if you would be the same. He doubts it. You don’t seem to have a mean or vindictive bone in your body - which is probably why his brother seems to like you so much in the first place. But Osamu does think you would probably pout. Scrunch up your face like you do when you miss a serve during practice but you would be a good sport about it. It’s why he’s taken such a liking to you.
“Don’t.” You say, holding an arm out to stop Osamu from coming any closer.
He smiles mischievously in response, “don’t what?”
“Don’t take another step.” You demand, “in fact, stop breathing for a moment.”
He chuckles, “scared a little breeze will knock it over.”
You slap your hand over his mouth gently, “yes. Now hush you. I need to go find another pile of cards. I know that they always keep at least three different decks.”
“Do ya want help finding it?”
“Mm,” you ponder for a moment, “if you want to.”
“Great!” He takes a step forward at the same time as you. Unfortunately, Osamu had ended up miscalculating the distance between himself and the chair which resulted in the two of you bumping into each other slightly. In an attempt to keep you from falling, Osamu reaches his arm out to catch you. You seemed to have the same idea in mind, only you had reached backwards to catch yourself which resulted in Osamu getting pulled down with you. The two of you stumbling head first into your delicately crafted tower of cards. Osamu smiles sheepishly, “or… not so great.”
You sigh deeply, “guess I don’t need that extra deck of cards anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” Osamu apologised. His arms are held out to either side of you, pinning you between himself and the table you had previously been building your tower of cards on. He feels bad about knocking over your house of cards but feels even worse about the position he’s in now. (Not because it feels bad being pressed against you but because it actually feels rather nice and he knows that it shouldn’t feel this nice. And he feels even worse that he thinks it does.)
“It’s okay,” you reach up and brush his hair out of his face.
Subtly, he leans into your touch, “you sure?”
“Mhm.”
Osamu pushes himself away from you as if suddenly coming to his senses, the tips of his ears flushed bright red. Osamu has never been the kind of person to take advantage of a situation like this (he’s not his brother) and he just knows that the guilt is going to eat away at him if he begins now. No matter how cute he thinks you are.
You don’t seem very bothered by him as you easily pull yourself up and start to gather up the pieces of your collapsed tower. You hum softly to yourself as you realign all the cards making sure that they’re all facing the same way.
Osamu’s immediate reaction is to help you pick up the cards but he imagines that that would only complicate the process. You seem like a rather meticulous person that prefers to have things done a certain way. He knows better than to get in the way of people that like to do things a certain way. Having a brother like Atsumu is bound to do that to you.
“So,” Osamu clears his throat, trying to clear the awkward silence, “do ya do these kinda things often?”
“The magazine interviews?” You ask.
Osamu nods.
“Not usually, but my manager keeps on insisting that I should do more.” You shrug, “something about having to get my name out there more.”
Osamu nods his head in agreement, “it’s a good thing. Makes it easier ta get into places when people already have a pre-established idea of who ya are. Opens up more doors than ya would think.”
You nod in agreement, your attention still on the deck of cards that you so meticulously put back together. Osamu moves over to sit beside you. Sitting up on his instead of a chair like you as he rests his head on the table turned over to look at you. You grace him with a quick look and a small smile when your eyes meet his.
“So, what do ya like ta do?” Osamu asks, a small smile on his face, “part from knocking down card houses.”
“Hey!” You pout as you put the last of the cards away and slip them back into their box, “we knocked down that card tower together.”
He chuckles in response.
You laugh along with him, “I guess I also like to go stargazing.”
“Oh really?” Osamu perks up in response, “I was pretty inta stargazing back when I was young too! Well, I didn’t care enough ta learn the names of stars but I liked lookin’ at em’. A pretty sight.” His eyes sparkle as they meet with your own.
“What do you like about the stars?” You asked.
“I like the meanings of stars.”
“Like astrology?”
“Mm, more like the poetical sense. Like how writers use the stars.”
“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side cutely, confused.
“Like when someone says ‘written in the stars’,” Osamu explains, “it’s usually like another way of sayin’ Fate.”
“An outside force that controls what happens?”
“Sounds less poetic when ya say it like that.”
“Really? I quite like it!” You grin, “to be fated to be with someone. I find it romantic. It’s like the universe is saying that this is the person that you were meant to be with. That this is the person that is best suited compared to all the others of billions of people here on this earth.”
“Not everyone likes the idea of having ta follow predetermined paths. It takes away the concept of agency and freedom.”
You nod, “everyone likes different things and has different perspectives.”
“Mhm.”
“So, what other kinds of star sayings do you like?”
Osamu ponders briefly before smiling, “stars in your eyes.”
“I don’t imagine it would be very comfortable to have stars in your eyes.”
“Not like that~” Osamu chuckles, “it’s more like someone being very hopeful and excited for somethin’.”
“Oh!” You beam, “tell me another, please!”
“Good friends are like stars.” Osamu begins.
“Oh, I know this one,” you add, “you don’t always see them?”
Osamu nods, “even when they aren’t directly involved in your life at the moment ya always know that they’re there. Ya can always feel their presence in ya life no matter how distant they seem.”
“Really? I always thought the saying was more like, ‘sometimes you don’t always notice the stars in the sky just as you don’t always notice who’s being a good friend to you.”
“I suppose that could work. I’ve just never really thought about it like that before.” Osamu watches you curiously, “any other star sayings that ya know?”
You bring a hand to your chin as you ponder for a moment, “the stars have aligned. Like this specific scenario was so lucky that something that rarely ever happens has happened in order to make something like this possible.”
“I’ve never really liked that one.” Osamu admits.
“But you like ‘written in the stars?’ Aren’t they rather similar?”
“‘Written in the stars’ is more like you were meant to be connected to this person no matter what while ‘the stars aligned’ is like saying you got lucky.”
“So, you feel like it undermines all the hard work you’ve done to get to where you are?”
“Yeah, a little somethin’ like that.”
Osamu and you share a smile.
Atusmu never cared much for phrases like that. He always cared more about the direct impact and actions of things rather than the subtleties that came with messages like ‘amongst the stars’.
You lean back in your chair, resting your head back as you take in a deep breath. It kind of reminds Osamu of right before you’re about to serve. He’s really only watched you play volleyball once (because his brother had dragged him there to watch you play) and the way you serve had caught his attention immediately. Don’t get him wrong, you were a good hitter and a decent passer but your serves left him reeling back. Perhaps the best precision that Osamu has ever seen someone around their age have.
What you lacked in strength you made up for in intelligence and tricks. Switching between putting a hard float to a soft one depending on which player your coach instructed you to serve to. The most entertaining thing though was how you had spent the entirety of the game serving the ball to the front half of the court before finally sending a deep and fast ball straight into the chest of one of the girls winning your team the game.
“Do you think you’re a star?” You ask softly.
“Like someone popular?” Osamu asks, “or like an actual ball of gas high up in the air?”
You smile playfully, “obviously a ball of gas~”
“Then yes, of course! Though I’d reckon that Tsumu’s the bigger ball of gas then me.”
“Filled with hot air, hm?”
“Mhm,” Osmau nods before the two of you burst out into laughter.
Your eyes soften when you mention Atsumu. It’s not that lovesick look that so many girls have before but it’s not exactly something platonic either. Or at least Osamu doesn't want to rule any romantic possibilities out. Obviously, he doesn’t want to think that you have a crush on his (annoying) twin brother but he does admit that the two of you are a lot closer than you and him. Not only did the two of you meet each other first but it felt as if there was this distance between Osamu and yourself that he wouldn’t really let you cross. A line that you couldn’t cross.
“I think the two of you are like binary stars.” You say softly.
“Hm?” Osamu raises a brow, “binary stars?”
“A system of two stars that are gravitationally bound to one another,” you explain, “or at least on the volleyball court that’s how the two of you seem. Drawn together in a way that most people aren’t. I wouldn’t say that you need one another to survive to be good… but it’s kind of like you bring out the best in one another, ya know?”
“That’s a very sweet way of putting it.”
“Is it?” You blush, “I was just kinda saying what I thought.”
Osamu smiles softly, “don’t worry. I get ya.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” You ramble, “the last time I said something like this I was given weird looks and I’m pretty sure that person stopped talking to me. I kind of have a tendency to say whatever's on my mind without thinking it through.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Thank goodness for that.” You smile to yourself as you reach into your pocket. You pull out a red lollipop, wrapped in one of those thin plastic wraps. Your eyes brighten as you pull the plastic off and tentatively taste the lollipop before finally popping it into your mouth.
“So, what about off the court?” Osamu asks, “do you think we’re still binary stars?”
“Well, you’re apart right now, aren’t you?”
Osamu smiles at that.
“Here,” you reach into your pocket and pull out a lollipop.
He raises an eyebrow, “hm?”
“You looked like you wanted one.”
A smile forms in the corners of his lips as he takes the sweet treat from you, “thanks.”
Quote: "Fall in love with someone you'd like to be like."
Kaku smiles softly as he presses the palm of his hand against your own.
It’s smaller than his and your skin is so much softer; so much prettier; and so much warmer.
Your eyes are so soft and gentle as you look at him. So warm and filled with so much unfamiliar affection.
You’re an absolute vision. A sight for sore eyes as you smile up at him. He wonders if his heart will always beat in such a way when he looks down at you. If it’ll always skip a beat and pound like nothing else will ever matter in this world. He thinks he’d like that - for nothing else in his life to matter but you. It’d be a simple life.
An honest life.
A life he would never get the chance to live.
You flow so nicely and easily leaving a nice and easy current for Kaku to follow after. You smoothly pull him towards you as if it’s second nature. He wonders if you would pull him in the same way after knowing that he’s done. If you would look at him with the same fondness and reverence as you do now.
“Dance with me?” You asked gently.
Kaku had never been a big fan of dancing.
It wasn’t like he was uncoordinated or anything. No, it was certainly nothing like that. It was just that dancing was never something he saw much use for. It was kinda just something that he knew existed like… the sky.
Everyone knows that the sky exists; that the sky is real; they know what it is and where to find it; they can even picture it in their minds if they tried; they just likely tell you much about what it actually is without speculating and guessing a good amount.
Kaku knew what dancing was; and he had taken a few dance classes here and there.
It was just that he never cared enough to learn about being particularly proficient at the task.
He interlaces your fingers with your own as he pulls you along to the beat of the music - humming gently to the familiar song.
“Of course,” Kaku smiles. Kaku had never been a fan of dancing, but things are a little different when it comes to you.
If I could begin to be
Half of what you think of me
I could do about anything
I could even learn how to love
Sometimes, Kaku wonders what it is that you think of him.
If you’re like Iceberg and buried your feelings because of the weight of what you carried with you. Or if you were more like Paulie and wore your heart on your sleeve. Or, perhaps a little like him where you present yourself as one thing but are entirely another. He hoped mostly for the first option but wouldn’t mind the second much either. But his heart froze and he dreaded the third more than anything else.
No.
He pushes those thoughts away.
How could anyone be anything but genuine when they’re able to look up at him with a smile like that? That they’re able to regard him with so much gentleness and warmth.
It’s honestly such a foreign concept to Kaku. Love. He likes to think that his childhood was a relatively normal one but love was never really a large factor.
It’s why he thinks he’s turned out the way he is.
Apart from all the killing, that is.
Gosh, he doesn’t even want to think about what you might say if you ever learned about the bloodiness of his past. All the people’s lives that he had ended and all the ways that he had done it. There’s almost not a single thing that he’s proud of. Not a single thing that you would be proud of.
Not a single thing that you would have done the same way if you had been put into his position.
You’re not like him.
You look at the goodness in people. Believe in the goodness of this world. Regard everything with such a gentle touch and soft smile. You are everything that Kaku wishes that he could be and everything that he isn’t. You love this world and this world loves you ever so gently in return. Honestly, Kaku is a little envious.
When I see the way you act
Wondering when I’m coming back
I could do about anything
I could even learn how to love like you
“What’re you thinking about?” You ask Kaku, propping your head on his shoulder as you lean against him from behind.
“Nothing important.” Kaku says, leaning back his weight onto you. He’s pleasantly surprised when you don’t tumble over immediately so he gradually adds more and more weight back onto you. You hold out longer than he expected you to. Collapsing beneath this weight and gravity causing the two of you to fall into a pile of limbs on the ground.
You pout, “Kaku!”
He chuckles in response, “you’re the one that failed to balance both my weight and your own, Lass.”
“Why would you put that much weight on me!”
“I thought you could handle it~”
“Right,” you roll your eyes, “sure you did.”
“Excuse me!” Kaku smiles teasingly, “are you implying that I have fibbed?”
You manage to untangle yourself from him as you attempt to get up from the ground - but before you can stand up Kaku wraps his arms around you and pulls you back down to him. You pout cutely and he laughs in response.
“Come on, Kaku,” you grumble, “let me go.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “don’t skedaddle off yet. Linger here for a while, Lass.”
You look like you’re about to say something. To bite back like you usually do but instead you sigh deeply before nuzzling into his neck for a moment. Your skin is warm against his own and your touch leaves a fuzzy feeling in his chest. Kaku feels as though the air around him is suddenly thinner despite it being all around him.
He feels as though his stomach is twisting in knots. A little nauseous, he thinks. Kind of like that one time where he accidentally ate that expired sandwich, or that other time when he ate the eggs that were left out in the sun or… well the point is that Kaku’s used to the feeling of an upset stomach and this most certainly falls into the same category. This is a familiar feeling.
Goodness.
You’re going to be the death of him, that he knows for sure.
I always thought I might be bad
Now I’m sure that it’s true
‘Cause I think you’re so good
And I’m nothing like you
Kaku doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to look at you as he stares down at his hands.
They’re red.
Scarlett even.
Dripping.
His stomach twists in knots but this feeling is unlike the one he remembers before. It doesn’t make him feel like singing or dancing in joy. Doesn’t bring up a bubble of laughter in his chest and reminds him of just how far away his life is from normal. Reminds him of just how different he is from you.
He swallows deeply.
He’s certain that you’re probably worried about him right now. Wondering where he might be. Debating why he had to cancel on your plans together.
Kaku thinks he’ll stop by the flower shop before he sees you tomorrow. Wondering what kind of flowers you would like this time.
Chrysanthemums maybe?
You’d like those. You liked them the last time he gave them to you. Kept them in a glass vase until all of them died. He’d even caught you replacing some of the dead flowers earlier until you noticed that he was watching. You then proceeded to make up a whole speech about why you wanted to keep the flowers that he gave you and didn’t want him to think that you were bad at keeping things alive. He merely laughed in response and promised that he would bring you a fresh bouquet whenever the latest one died.
At the last minute he changes his mind.
He can’t bear to look at the red flowers, scared that you might be able to see the red on his hands if you stared a little too long. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to look you in the eye if you ever knew the real him. Doesn’t understand why he can’t forget about you even when he tries to. Wonders why his thoughts always seem to drift back to you regardless of the moment.
Look at you go
I just adore you
I wish that I knew
What makes you think I’m so special
Kaku watches fondly as you walk down the shoreline of Water 7. Your arms held out to either side as if you’re walking a tightrope. It’s a silly pose that makes you seem younger than you really are.
It’s cute.
You’re cute.
You walk a few paces ahead of him, humming a familiar melody. Kaku walks a little slower than you do, but his strides are longer so he manages to keep up rather easily. His hands are behind his back but would be ready to catch and steady you at the slightest of mishaps. Not that Kaku thinks that you would fall but he wants to be ready for any such scenario. He’d never want you to fall head first into something you aren’t yet ready for.
He’ll do what he can to protect you.
At least while he’s still here.
In the few years that Kaku’s lived he doesn’t think that he’s ever quite met anyone like you. Sure, he’s met someone with a smile a little like yours and another who laughs at the same things that you do but nothing that would make up the accumulation of who you are.
Kaku remembers reading somewhere that people are the reflection of everyone who they have ever loved. That they pick up little habits and quirks from the people around them. He wonders if he’s picked up any from you? If you have picked up any from him? Mostly though, he wonders what you have picked up from all the people that you had loved in your life.
You turn to look at him and he thinks that his heart stops for a moment.
Gosh.
He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to go back if you keep looking at him like that.
He has to turn away or risk you seeing the flush red of his cheeks though he doubts that turning his head does much anyways. You can probably see the red anyways as it floods through his cheeks and into the tips of his ears.
If I could begin to do
Something that does right by you
I would do about anything
I would even learn how to love
You sit quietly, staring off into the distance, washing the waves crash onto the shore as Kaku sits beside you, diligently sketching your face and form. He’s never considered himself that good of an artist but he is decent after all those ship drawings he makes.
Kaku makes sure to capture the dip of your chin and the curve of your lip. His lines are a little more wobbly and certainly don’t do the real you any justice but Kaku likes to think, in his humble opinion, that drawing you would be pleased at how this is turning out. In fact, he thinks that even real you would like this (but you always like the things he draws).
What Kaku can’t fully encapsulate is that certain glimmer in your eyes that you get when you see something entertaining.
He doubts that any artis would ever be able to capture such an expression and any one that did manage to wouldn’t compare to the real thing.
You really are the most beautiful person that Kaku has ever met. From the colour of your hair and skin to the curve of your lips. Everything just seems to come together so perfectly and in a way that makes it almost impossible for him to look anywhere else other than you.
Truthfully, it’s a wonder you haven’t already been swept off your feet by someone else.
“How long do I have to sit here like this?” You ask petulantly.
“You’re the one that begged me to draw you, Lass.” Teases Kaku.
You groan, “I know, but I didn’t realise that it would take this long.”
Kaku chuckles softly, “alright fine. You can go take a break. But then you better be ready to sit in one place for the next hour.”
“How did people ever sit still long enough to have their portraits taken?”
“I suspect they simply had more patience than you, Lass.”
Love like you
Love me like you
Kaku sighs pathetically like a lovesick school boy as he watches you take to the dance floor. You move ever so elegantly and ever so gracefully. He thinks that it’s the place in this world where you were meant to be.
He sits off to the side watching as people approach you and ask for a dance. His stomach churns annoyingly as you accept. The way that you’re too sweet to say no is something that he both loves and hates about you. When he was young, Kaku had no idea that it was possible to hate and love something at the same time but then you came into his life and everything changed. Everything in his life seemed to be flipping on its head.
Kaku thinks that he would have liked to have been someone like you if he had been able to live a normal life.
Someone that could so easily get along with the people around them. Someone that’s able to smile so easily and see the better parts of the world. Someone that isn’t afraid to jump head first into something and fall in love.
In another life, he thinks that he would have liked to have loved you freely instead of the way that he does now.
He sighs again.
The people sitting around him shoot him strange looks while others roll their eyes.
Kaku ignores them.
Well he tries to.
He wonders if you could ever learn to love someone like him.
Your eyes light up as they meet with Kaku’s across the dance floor.
Kaku had never been a fan of dancing, but things are a little different when it comes to you.
Quote: "Fall in love with someone you’ll only ever share a few passing moments with."
In time travel nothing can be changed. Everything that will happen has already happened - and every change that you hope to make has either already occurred or will never occur at all.
---
Mission Number XX02
There were three rules to time travel that had been ingrained into Nagi Seishiro’s head when he first became a time traveler.
1. Don’t interact with your past self.
Wouldn’t want to accidentally make your past self go crazy.
2. Don’t tell people you’re from the future.
Most people would just ignore you but you wouldn’t want to be responsible for making someone else go insane.
3. Don’t try to change the course of events.
Time travel is to only be used to observe events that have already happened. Besides, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to change anything.
Nagi’s job as a time traveler was to gather information on individuals. Specifically, people that would become famous. His job was to go back and observe what would make them into the individuals that they were. Record their lives from the perspective of a third party and come back with that information so that people of the present could learn about them.
Much more tame than the countless crazy stories that had been written before.
No fate ‘the world is at stake’ plotlines or ‘revenge from a man wronged’ villains. Merely ordinary people that can follow rules and record the lives of another - regardless of how boring that person may seem to you.
Nagi’s current objective - you.
(Y/n) (L/n).
A writer whose works would only garner popularity years after your death. From the brief snippets of information that there was on you, you were mostly a freelance writer that died early. Sometime around your early thirties? Nagi really isn’t all too sure.
He has a relatively easy task.
Follow you around for a couple days, following the moments when you would write your most famous piece. See what likely inspired each of the characters you chose to make and see what might have influenced the setting. See if there was someone special in your life that could have served as the inspiration for what would eventually come to be known as your magnum opus.
He thinks that your biggest series is about time travel, funnily enough. Not that he’s ever taken the time to read it or likely ever will. He’s not that big of a fan of chapter book novels. He much prefers to watch television or read comics if it’s a must that he needs to read. Prefers to look more at the pictures over having to create the image in his head all on his own.
He quickly jots something down on his notebook before following you into a cafe.
The biggest thing to remember when time traveling is to remain calm. The worst thing that you can do is be spotted and have the person you’re following think they’re getting stalked. Well… they are getting stalked but it’s for history purposes. Not for some perverse pleasure. Though… Nagi imagines that many people get a strange perverse pleasure from the information he gives out.
Oh well.
It’s too much for him to think about anyways.
He’s just here for the paycheck after all.
Stay within the rules and you’ll be fine.
Rule 1: don’t interact with your past self, would be an easy rule for him to follow. Nagi wouldn’t be born for at least a couple hundred years so no issue there. There wouldn’t be anyone that would recognize him.
Rule 2: don’t tell people you’re from the future. That shouldn’t be too hard to follow. It wasn’t like Nagi was much of a conversationalist anyways. He much preferred to quietly sit back and watch everything happen around him.
Rule 3: don’t try to change the course of events. Honestly, Nagi isn’t quite sure why this is a rule at all. Any fool with half a brain is smart enough to know that it’s impossible to change the past. Everything that will happen happens because it has already happened. A linear timeline where nothing can be changed or altered. It simply is.
From the information that Nagi’s gathered so far you seem relatively normal. Having just finished up your last few years in college, where you studied History (funnily enough) and would begin to take creative writing more seriously then you had before.
You’re pretty. Surprisingly pretty. He obviously saw photos of you back in his own time-zone but they did not do you justice. Not only did photos not capture the same level of life as they do in his own time-zone but you never seem to be making a normal expression. Mostly forced smiles and strained looks as if you’d rather be anywhere but taking that photo. Nagi relates to you on a spiritual level. He hates getting his own picture taken.
But in person you look so much softer and… realer. Well, you’re obviously realer. He could reach out and touch you if he wanted. You’re so much more expressive than he thought you would have been. So curious about the world around you as your eyes wander, stopping on everything you find interesting despite walking the same path for three days straight.
You’re also, unsurprisingly, patterned. Most people are patterned. You get up around the same time every day, 6:30am after hitting snooze on your alarm clock three times. You get ready for the day before heading off for a morning run. You boil the hot water for a tea that you’ll forget to make after work and head to your computer where you’ll type away until the urge to sleep hits where you’ll then fall asleep and do it all again the next day.
Nagi was hoping for something a little more interesting but he supposes that he’ll take what he can get.
At least today is the weekend, so maybe you’ll actually do something worth recording.
He doubts it.
There’s a barista that thinks you’re cute. He blushes as you smile warmly at him and take your order. Your hair is a little messy from your walk in the cold but you’re still the prettiest person here. Actually, you’re probably the prettiest person around for miles. Nagi actually finds himself a little surprised that he hasn’t seen you in a romantic relationship with anyone.
He does remember reading something about how there was one specific person that you thought about while writing but all the information about it was vague. His main job, funnily enough, was to find out who that person was.
Your drink is something new to you as you ask the barista to recommend something. The barista gives you a dopey smile before creating something sweet. Nagi doesn’t think that you’ll enjoy it all that much. From what he’s observed so far you don’t care much for sweet things. Don’t keep many sweets in your apartment and the ones you do have seem a little old.
You give a smile to the barista after tasting the drink.
Nagi finds a strange level of satisfaction running through him when your eyes don’t smile. Personally, he would have made you something a little more on the sour side. Something cool instead of a warm drink despite the cold weather. You seem like the kind of person that likes to be surprised and both the sour and coolness of the drink would surprise you.
You’d give that halfway sort of smile that you get when you’re in a writing groove. You’d…
Nagi shakes his head.
You’re not supposed to get attached to your assignments. They specifically go out of their way to pick apathetic people like him to send out on these assignments. Better to have people that don’t care about the person in front of them because you never know what kind of problems that it’ll cause later on down the line.
Of course, nothing in the past can be changed, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t go crazy trying to change the past. That they don’t lose their minds when they have to leave behind someone that was so important to them.
“Nagi Seishiro.”
Nagi freezes.
He hasn’t told anyone his name before in this time-zone much less spoken to someone at all. So how is it that someone knows his name? Did someone from his time-zone warp over here to tell him that they were taking over the assignment? While that would be a little strange he wouldn’t be all too surprised.
He tries his best to look apathetic as he looks up at the person who had taken the seat across from him. His blood goes cold when he sees that it’s you.
Your eyes sparkle in a way that Nagi hasn’t seen them sparkle before, “you’re Nagi Seishiro, aren’t you?”
Nagi shakes his head, attempting to feign ignorance, “I have no idea who that is.”
“It’s delightful weather,” you say suddenly.
Nagi freezes.
How in the world would you know that? As far as he knows you’re not one of the people that were privy to the information of time travelers and he most certainly doesn’t remember ever meeting you; so how could you know the first half of the code?
You lean over and take the drink he’s drinking from him, “but I always carry an umbrella.”
Okay. Someone was definitely messing with him.
You take a sip of his drink, “you are Nagi Seishiro, aren’t you?”
Finally, Nagi nods, “how do you know that?”
“Oh, thank goodness! I would’ve been mortified if I had accidentally taken a drink of some random dude’s drink. I was a little hesitant because it’s been a few years since I’ve seen you and you’re younger than how you were since I saw you last.”
“Wait,” Nagi raises an eyebrow, “you’ve met me before? An older version of me?”
You nod, “you were sent to do a piece on one of my classmates and almost caught and needed an alibi so you grabbed me and asked me to help you.”
Rule two: don’t tell people you’re from the future.
Well it’s too late now. It wasn’t like present Nagi was the one responsible for breaking the rules anyways. It seems that you already know about different time-zones and time traveling.
“So, who’s your assignment now?” You ask as you hand his drink back to him.
Nagi feels his cheeks grow hot, but luckily his face stays neutral. You’d have to touch him to know that he’s embarrassed. But, in his defense, who wouldn’t get embarrassed when the person they’re watching asks you who you’re watching. It’s basically asking someone to admit to you that they’ve been following you around and taking notes on you. It’s basically stalking. Well, Nagi likes to think of it more as being a private investigator but truthfully, even he has to admit that it’s basically just stalking.
It also doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with such a pretty smile.
Gosh. Why did you have to be so pretty?
“It’s uh… the barista over there.”
“Oh really? Are they a relative of someone who wants to learn about them?” You ask.
“Uh… yeah.”
You smile knowingly, as if you know more about Nagi then he knows about himself. He wonders if this is what other people had been talking about in the notes he’d read about you. Your way of looking into the hearts of others. Your eyes are just… so bright and brilliant. So different from anything else he’s ever seen before.
Gosh. He thinks that he’s going to have to pass this mission onto someone else if he can’t get his treacherous heart to calm down.
“You’re lying~” You hum.
“W-what? How did you know that?”
“I didn’t. You just told me.”
He grumbles something in response.
This is why people recommend that you don’t talk to your assignments. Even if it would be easier to just ask someone about their work and what inspired them at the moment there was always the issue of creating a connection with someone else.
And then, there’s the fact that you already seem so fond of Nagi.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look at him so fondly before. As if he means so much more to him then he’ll ever know. Then he already knows.
It makes him want to lean over and touch you.
To see if you’re real or just an illusion made from his mind. Or perhaps a dream that he’s gotten from how much time he’s been spending with you.
He bets that your skin would be warm against his own.
Suddenly, you reach out and grab his hand.
His face burns hot.
His cheeks flush red as if he’s a school boy.
Gosh, it’s been so long since his body last reacted like this to a girl.
“What is it you want to know, Nagi Seishiro?” You ask.
He clears his throat, “promise you won’t laugh?”
You grin mischievously, “oh, no promises. I have to pay you back for how much you teased me.”
“But that hasn’t even happened yet for me.”
You laugh softly in response - Gosh. Nagi really isn’t sure how he’s going to make it out of this alive.
---
Mission Number XX79
There were three rules to time travel that had been ingrained into Nagi Seishiro’s head when he first became a time traveler.
1. Don’t interact with your past self.
Wouldn’t want to accidentally make your past self go crazy.
Luckily, Nagi’s never actually been given a mission in a time-zone where he can meet himself so he never has to worry about this rule.
2. Don’t tell people you’re from the future.
Most people would just ignore you but you wouldn’t want to be responsible for making someone else go insane.
Now, this rule is a little tricker.
He has, of course, done his best to follow this rule all except for one occasion but that one’s not even his fault in the first place.
3. Don’t try to change the course of events.
Time travel is to only be used to observe events that have already happened. Besides, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to change anything.
This one, obviously, isn’t possible to break.
No one can change the past because it has already happened and the future has already happened. Both timelines that already exist, unable to be changed or morphed. Everything is already exactly as it is.
So obviously, when Nagi finds himself in need of breaking rule two he doesn’t worry much because it has already happened.
You have told him it already happened to you.
So it merely now has to happen to him.
And you again, if that makes sense.
Today, he’s been sent on a mission where he needs to observe the actual events of what happened. It’s some messy highschool drama that he doesn’t care all too much about. A private event that bores him to the bone. What doesn’t bore Nagi, on the other hand, is how he’s almost caught. One of the girls he’d been observing points out that they saw him somewhere else.
Nagi knows that he should have been more careful. That he should have taken better precautions and wore that wig Reo is always telling him to put on before heading off on his missions. It helps to hide his stark white hair which definitely stands out in a time period where unnatural hair colour is still uncommon amongst the general populace. The gene making an unnatural hair colour naturally grow hasn’t yet been introduced and the products people use to dye their hair are still made of products that damage the natural chemicals on your head.
Long story short, Nagi’s white hair stands out and someone noticed it.
This is actually only the second time that Nagi has ever been pointed out in his two years of being a time traveler. His second mission, where he had run into you and this one - where he coincidently went to find you to get your help. Well, he still has to go get you, but his point still stands.
Nagi’s heart seemingly stops in his chest as he sees you.
You’re a sight for sore eyes.
A couple years younger from how you were when he first met you. You’d been four years older than him when he first met you and now it seems that he’s four years older than him (give or take a few if he’s done his math correctly).
He’d forgotten just how loudly his heart would beat and how fast it would race when around you.
So pretty.
He almost forgets that you don’t know who he is.
Actually, he almost forgets to speak to you at all.
He’d much rather just watch you from a distance then have to pull you into this mess that he’s gotten himself into. But, of course, he thinks that it would be better to get your help. It’s not like he can get out of this situation without some inside help and he’ll be damned if he has to call into headquarters and ask for help. He knows for sure that they’d send Barou and goodness knows that he’ll never let Nagi live the moment down. Plus, he knows that you won’t snitch on him.
“Hey, (Y/n)!” Nagi calls out your name.
You turn around, a curious look in your eyes as you look around for someone familiar. Nagi’s heart melts at the sight of seeing your face for the first time in years. From what he knows, this is the last time that he’ll ever see you in person like this and he wants to savor the moment.
Finally, your eyes land on Nagi.
You give him a curious look, “me?”
He nods.
“Do I know you?”
“No,” Nagi shakes his head, “but I know you and I need your help.”
---
“So… let me get this straight. You’re a time traveler and you need my help to… get out of the stalker allegations? But aren’t you basically a stalker?”
Nagi nods, leaning over and taking a sip of the water bottle you had been drinking from, “it’s my job.”
You shoot him a look but it’s quickly replaced as the weight of his words sink in, “right. And it’s totally not creepy that you’re following a high school girl around.”
“If I could have picked my jobs I would’ve declined this one.”
“Right. I definitely believe you…”
He knows that you don’t believe him and he can see in your eyes that you’re looking for the next second to bolt. But you won’t. And if you do, he knows that you’ll eventually come around and help him later on. It has, afterall, already happened. That’s not the thing that’s bothering him.
What’s bothering him is your indifference. Was he this cold to you when the two of you met in the later time-zone? He certainly hopes not. He misses the warmth in your smile that you gave him before. The way your eyes would crinkle around the edges when he said something that you thought was funny. What he misses most though is the warmth of your hand on his own.
He wonders if you feel that speak between the two of you that he does whenever he’s with you. Or if it’s something only specific to him. Well, it’s less of a spark and more of a sensation. A feeling of just wanting to be around the other person. Knowing that everything is just alright when you’re with that other person.
You watch him warily, as if debating something in your mind.
Well then, Nagi thinks, it looks like it’s up to him now to win you over just like how you had won him over. Though, you did have it a little easier because his assignment had been you and he needed to get information from you. You could just leave right now because you have no obligation to help him.
But you will.
That’s just the kind of person you are.
It still kinda hurts though.
“So what do you need me to do?” You ask.
Nagi grins, “pretend to date me.”
“Woah, what?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh I heard you, that doesn’t mean I can immediately accept or decline. It’s a really weird situation to put someone in. Especially someone you barely even know.”
“I know you.”
“Fine,” you huff, “it’s a weird thing to ask someone that barely even knows you.”
“But you’ll do it?”
“Gosh! Give me a moment, will you?”
“Okay.” Nagi hums.
He’d forgotten how pretty you are when you’re deep in thought. It’s a look similar to how you are when you’re in a writing groove. Your eyes narrow in and your eyebrows crease slightly. Back then he had been so hesitant despite wanting to smooth the crease between your eyes. Scared that you would disappear if he were to reach out and touch you.
This time, he takes the chance.
He reaches a hand out.
You jump back slightly at the movement but Nagi continues forward without hesitation. Gently pressing a finger to the crease between your eyebrows and smoothing it out.
He smiles to himself as your face heats up dramatically.
You’re much easier flustered at this age than you were before. Then you will be when you’re older. Nagi imagines that’s because you’re much more experienced with men and relationships by then so he relishes in knowing that he gets to be one of the first ones in your mind that will be close to you like this.
You turn away, your cheeks hot, “w-what are you doing?”
“Smoothing out your eyebrows. Don’t want you to have wrinkles at such a young age.”
“Do I have wrinkles the next time you see me?” You ask hesitantly.
Nagi grins, “why? Are you curious?”
“No.”
“You’re lying~” Nagi hums.
“W-what? How did you know that?”
“I didn’t. You just told me.”
You grumble something in response.
Nagi laughs softly at the familiarity of the moment. You’re so much more of a brat then he thought. But it’s cute. You’re cute. Though, he supposes that he’s always thought you were cute. From the moment his eyes first landed on your file to now.
It sucks that the two of you weren’t born in the same time-zone. That you would forever live your lives between these two moments.
Of his first time meeting you.
And your first time meeting him.
A breadths width apart but hundreds of years away.
Even as the warmth of your hand is inches away from his own it feels light years away.
Nagi remembers when his parents first tried to introduce him to a girl that they wanted him to go on a date with. She, much like you are now, is four years younger than him. He’d scrunched up his nose at the age gap. To him, four years seemed like such a big distance. So far both in terms of life and experience. So far in maturity (despite the fact that girls mature faster than boys). So far in life.
In retrospect, Nagi thinks that maybe if that girl had been you he wouldn’t have thought four years was that far either. He thinks that maybe you must have been his soulmate.
In another world maybe he would have gotten the chance to know you and fall in love slowly. Thinks that he would have been able to lean towards you one day, after taking you out on a date, and whisper about how pretty he thinks you are instead of only thinking it in his mind. That after his fingers would interlock with yours, without either one of you having your thoughts race and your minds be confused trying to grapple with the weight of everything that you do and don’t need to know. That he would be able to lean in and kiss you like boys his age do with girls they like.
He wonders if you’ve been kissed before yet.
Mm, no. He takes that back. He doesn’t want to know. Knows that he’ll be much more jealous than he should be if that answers yes. To him, you’re the girl that he’s always been dreaming of. Even before he met you, it was you. It would always be you. Even if you never knew it. Even if he never tells you.
He won’t.
Be bets that back then there were many things that you had wanted to say to him that you didn’t. He wonders if your heart had ached for him the same way that his aches for you now. It’s strange, he thinks, to yearn for someone that you barely know. But to him, you were never a stranger but rather someone he was getting a chance to rediscover.
Four years doesn’t seem so far now.
At least in compassion to the hundreds of years that will keep you from him. That keeps him from you.
By the time Nagi is born you’ll likely be nothing but dirt once again reunited with the world or dust and ash somewhere out there in the cosmos of the universe.
The two of you are nothing but boats in the night.
A chance of passing in the night.
Gently, he interlocks his fingers with yours.
Your hand is so much softer than he remembers and so much warmer.
Fall in love with someone you’ll only ever share a few passing moments with.
The first time Suguru Geto sees you is when the two of you are young adults getting ready to make your place in the world. It’s the first ball of the season and a moment that everyone, Suguru included, have been looking forward to. Suguru is eager to find his footing; not only has he just graduated Eden Academy with the highest of honours but he’s just recently adopted the title of Baren; gifted to him by the honourable Duke Gojo (his best friend’s father).
And then there’s you, the most beautiful girl that Suguru has ever seen. With bright eyes and a calm smile that draws in the attention of everyone in the room, Suguru included. You seem to sway through the room so easily, navigating your way through the Ton as if this is where you were born to be. Though, all things considered, this likely was the place where you were born to be - unlike him.
Truth be told, Suguru’s position was rather strange. Not only was he only of noble birth through unusual means but rumours constantly swirled around his origin. Some called him the secret bastard child of Duke Gojo while others speculated that he was the secret lover of Satoru Gojo (his best friend). Both equally untrue and even weirder when paired together.
Satoru heads over to you immediately (he’d never been one to shy away from a beautiful woman) so of course Suguru follows. Unlike his companion, he does much better to hide his obvious interest in you (though, admittedly, not much better). You’re simply magnetic and Suguru is unable to tear his gaze away.
People flock to you, charmed and flattered by the way you seem to so easily converse with others and weave through conversation. You remind him a little of Satoru with how much attention you seem to garner.
“Do you know who she is?” Suguru asks, his eyes never leaving your form.
Satoru smiles fondly in a way that is almost unfamiliar to Suguru, “that’s (Y/n).”
Suguru raises a brow, “(Y/n)?” He knows that his friend has never been one to care much for social standings (as seen through his constant need for Suguru to remind him) but the familiarity his voice holds when he says your name leaves Suguru curious. Satoru was never one to keep secrets, much less secrets from him.
“Remember when I used to head to the Viscounts’ house when I was younger?” Asked Satoru.
Suguru nods, “to make some friends because you’re a hopeless loser.”
Satoru pouts, “hey! I’m not.”
“You are,” Suguru smiles, “but continue.”
“Anyways, I ended up meeting her there. She’s the only interesting person.”
“Apart from me?” Suguru teases.
Satoru rolls his eyes but smiles, “yes.”
Young ladies seeking to get married and mamas who seem even more eager than their daughters prowl the floors looking for any unsuspecting and well bred bachelors. Satoru and Suguru (well mostly just Satoru) happen to fall into that category which is what causes their own mini-crowd to gather around.
Most of the mamas seem rather weary of Suguru but the young ladies blush and gush at any hint of attention that Suguru happens to give them. Sure, he may only be granted the title of a Baron through some rather fortunate circumstances but he is a gentleman and a rather good looking one at that.
Suguru finds entertainment in how the ladies seem to converse with one another, trying their best to capture his attention while still attempting to be polite and courteous around one another. It’s really the only thing that’s keeping Suguru here by Satoru’s side instead of him making his way over to you. Well that and the fact that he would feel bad for abandoning his friend’s side.
After what feels like an hour (it was only 15 minutes) the crowd begins to disperse as people search to find others to fill their dance cards.
The thinning of the crowd is what eventually beckons you over to his little corner of the room.
You and your pretty smile.
Satoru, not caring to be polite for any longer, abruptly cuts off the conversation he’s having with an overeager debutante and immediately makes his way to you, calling your name out into the crowd.
Suguru watches as you quickly finish up your conversation with someone else before turning to greet Satoru, a warm smile on your face.
You easily fall into place alongside the two of them.
“(Y/n)!” Satoru looks as though he’s about to reach out his arms and hug you but for once thinks better of the citation and backs off like any well knowing gentleman would. It does take a little nudge from Suguru but improvement is improvement.
“My Lord.” You say, the words coming off more playful than respectful. There’s a familiarity to your words as you look at Satoru which only serves to further push forward Suguru’s curiosity about you.
Satoru pouts, “Satoru.”
“Saying your own name?” You tease, “are you saying it to make sure that you haven’t forgotten it, my Lord?”
“No,” Satoru’s pout deepens, “I haven’t forgotten my name but it seems clear that you have.”
“You are a gentleman, My Lord.” You stated.
Satoru petulant rolls his eyes, “and?”
Suguru nudges Satoru gently, catching how your eyes wander to his form briefly before casually making their way around the room and back to Satoru, “she’s trying to tell you to be polite. We are in polite society, afterall.”
Satoru groans, “I hate being polite.”
“I know.” You and Suguru say in sync.
The two of you turn to each other and Suguru swears that he feels a spark fly. Your eyes light up in amusement at this turn of events. Suguru honestly feels a little hot beneath your honest and calm gaze. He’s much more used to the cold and discriminatory looks of the Ton or the mean glares from the other boys in school when he did better than them in classes. Even the hot gaze of debutants and courtesans would have been less foreign.
Mm, foreign feels like the wrong word too because even though it is unfamiliar the sensation feels almost nostalgic. Like a moment in life that he’s lived before. That this is something that has happened before despite it being the first time the two of you had ever been granted the privilege of meeting.
Suguru offers you a dashing smile, “Suguru Geto, my Lady.”
You smile warmly in response, “(Y/n), my Lord.”
Suguru takes your hand in his own, kissing the back of it as his eyes never leave your own, “a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
“I’ll have to give my parents your compliments.”
“Hm?”
You laugh gently, and it sounds heavenly to Suguru, “they are the ones that named me, afterall. It seems only fitting that I would give them your compliments.”
Suguru chuckles in response.
He can see why Satoru seems so fond of you now.
---
A Conversation
Suguru Geto has always considered himself a good man. Sure, he may not be of noble birth and he hasn’t lived the entirety of his life in service of others and most certainly isn’t the pinnacle of perfection in any way whatsoever but he thinks he’s good. Or at the very least, Suguru thinks that he’s a good friend.
And, as a good friend, Suguru does his best to take interest in what his friend does. Sure, he may not put all of his heart into the same things as his friend but he always tries to show at least a little bit of interest.
So, he follows Satoru’s gaze, not surprised to see that his friend’s attention is captured by you.
As quickly as you came you had disappeared, whisked off into one of those posh and proper dances that gentlemen are supposed to take women on when they wish to express interest and court. Suguru personally has always seen the whole debacle as pretentious but sharing a dance with someone has always been a good way to judge character. Or at least it’s always been an easy way for Suguru to judge someone’s character.
Take you, for example. All your moves are practiced and precise. He can tell that you’ve taken years to perfect the steps that you so elegantly take now. That despite the calm smile on your face you’ve put in more effort and work than anyone else in this room will ever know.
Suguru elbows Satoru lightly.
Satoru tears his gaze away from you and shoots Suguru a look.
Suguru grins to himself playfully, “you were pouting.”
Satoru’s eyes widen ever so slightly before he turns away from Suguru, petulant responding with an annoyed, “was not.”
Satoru grumbles something under his breath that Suguru can’t quite catch, though he’s certain it’s something along the lines of how Suguru will end up being the death of him. It manages a chuckle out of Suguru.
Satoru’s over-reactive reactions have always been mildly entertaining. A quirk of his character that Suguru had eventually grown fond of after years of being on the receiving end of such an expressive character.
Suguru’s gaze wanders back over to you.
You really are quite beautiful. Almost like a ray of sunshine in a dark room. Suguru likes to imagine that if he were to ever write poetry it would likely be about someone like you. Such a pretty girl with such a pretty face and name.
“What do you think of (Y/n)?” Satoru asks suddenly.
Hm, what does Suguru think of you? It’s obvious to anyone that you’re a pretty face. Suguru sees that you’re someone that likely puts a lot of work into putting up the persona that you’re wearing now. That you’re probably someone interesting under that mask but that’s something that Satoru already knows and he wouldn’t ask Suguru to hear something that he already knows.
Finally, Suguru settles on, “she’s a little like you.”
“Really?” Satoru leans in towards Suguru despite the fact that his eyes never once leave your form, “I personally thought she was more like you.”
More like him than Satoru? Suguru doesn’t think that he can see it though he supposes that Satoru does know you better than he does. Even if Suguru thinks that he’s a better judge of character than Satoru he knows that Satoru isn’t a bad judge of character. And if Satoru has taken an interest in you it must mean something, right?
“How so?” Asked Suguru.
Satoru smiles ever so slightly, “she’s good at understanding people and she cares an awful lot more about what other people think about her than she lets on.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully, “everyone cares about what everyone thinks.”
He’s certainly always cared about what other people think. He obviously knows that it’s not good for his health. That living this way will likely only lead to madness in an attempt to please everyone or look good in the eyes of others but that’s just kind of the way he’s always lived. As a boy he was taught to always be aware of what the people around him think and now he supposes that he’s just never broken the habit.
“I don’t.” Satoru exclaims.
“That’s because you’re weird.”
“Hey!”
“It’s true,” Suguru smiles playfully, “you’re weird but not super weird. A little weird.”
“Like that’s so much better.”
“Let me put it this way. You don’t care about what everyone else thinks but you care about the thoughts of people that are important to you.”
“Isn’t that how everyone should think?”
“Oh, most certainly,” Suguru nods in agreement, “but things aren’t always the way they should be,” but by the time Suguru finishes Satoru’s mind has already begun to wander elsewhere. Suguru wonders how much his friend actually hears but he doesn’t bother to repeat himself. If Satoru wanted to know what Suguru had to say he would’ve listened the first time. Afterall, he’s never been the kind of person that needs to hear something twice to understand what someone else is trying to say.
Suguru’s eyes follow Satoru’s who seem solely fixed on you.
Suguru has always considered himself a good man.
Satoru is his best friend. The person that’s always understood him better than anyone else. Sure, Satoru didn’t exactly understand all the looks he got from the people around him for his… unusual circumstances but he always did his best to make sure that Suguru knew that he had someone he could rely on.
Satoru was the reason Suguru had been given the opportunity to attend Eton’s Academy for Boys. Given higher education than what his father would have been able to have given him.
He was the reason why Suguru had been given the title of Earl. Given him the opportunity to be part of polite society and a well paying occupation instead of the hard and honest labour that his father before him had lived. And sure, Suguru didn’t actually care much for polite society; he did understand that there were many niceties and pleasures that were afforded to him that a common life could not.
And, Suguru admits, Satoru is the reason why he’s still alive today.
Even if Satoru might never understand the discrimination or the cold looks. Even if he might never look at the world the same way that he does or appreciate the small pleasure of this world the same way that he does Suguru still thinks the world of Satoru.
Suguru has always considered himself a good man (and a good friend) - so he turns his gaze away from you despite the aching in his chest as he does so.
---
The Moment
“Suguru!” Nanako and Mimiko, the two girls that Suguru had been sponsoring at the orphan edge, run over the fields as they spot him. The two girls had been daughters of some lower class nobles whose parents had died in a fire; the same fire that Suguru had actually saved them from.
He had wanted to adopt the two girls but had been unable to because of his age at the time (and social standing). The process of adoption had begun recently but it was not a very smooth process; especially because he was an unwed man.
Nanako and Mimiko jump into his arms, tackling him to the ground as they giggle and laugh.
He wraps his arms around them and hums gently, “hi girls.”
“Are you going to stay long tonight?”
“Are you going to play with us today?”
“Oh, we got to help make dinner! So you have to stay!”
“Woah there,” holds his arms back in mock surrender, a smile playing on the edges of his lips, in an attempt to calm the relentless questions of the two girls, “one question at a time.”
Nanako and Mimiko share a look between one another as if mentally discussing the correct route of action.
Nanako speaks up first, “will you stay for dinner?”
Suguru nods, “of course.”
The two of them beam. It warms Suguru’s heart. He can only imagine how hard it must have been for the two girls to have their entire lives uprooted. Everyone that had loved and cared for them before suddenly went out of their lives in the snap of a finger because of some careless actions of a groundskeeper that didn’t properly put out the fireplace.
He’s happy that they can smile after everything.
That there’s at least a semblance of normalcy in their lives. That he can be someone that they turn to when they need help. That he’s someone they look forward to seeing. So different from the life that he’s known all this time. So different from the gazes and looks he’s used to getting from everyone else (other than Satoru).
“Hey,” Suguru brushes Mimiko’s hair behind her ear gently, his attention drawn to a sting filled with pretty coloured beads around her neck, “what’s this?” Nanako is wearing something similar though the colours are more blue tinted rather than the more roset theme that Mimiko dons. They aren’t as fancy as the necklaces that the women in polite society wear but they’re neither the usual thing that young girls make for fun. The material looks a little more expensive than what the orphanage can afford and seems delicate. Suguru also happens to know that Nanako and Mimiko are notoriously picky when it comes to what they wear.
Mimiko grins, “a necklace.”
Suguru laughs, “I knew that much. I mean, when did you make such a pretty thing?”
“A pretty lady made them for us!” Nanako explains.
“She made one for all the girls!” Mimiko adds, “she even made some for the Sisters that help to take care of us.”
Suguru raises a brow, “she made them?” though the girls don’t seem to catch on.
“Yes. She made them! Taught us how to make them too!”
It’s not unusual for people of high society to donate money or materials to the orphanages. Usually, from Suguru’s experience, the Ton like to take interest in places with less fortunate people when it’s the popular thing to do or when they’re trying to save face from a massive scandal that was caused earlier. But, to hear that someone had actually volunteered and spent time with the children was actually surprising to hear. Foreign even.
Most women, the older ones, worried about their own children. Making sure that they got the proper education needed to live a proper life once they leave the nest. The younger ladies, on the other hand, worried more about getting married and leaving their mark behind in Polite Society.
“A noble lady?” Suguru asked.
Middle class people coming in to help is common. When they aren’t working the kindest of them (like Suguru’s own mother) would come in and help where they could. All volunteer work.
It’s actually looked down upon for folk of Polite Society to work at orphanages like this one. Even if most of the children were from fallen noble families (like Nanako and Mimiko) they still saw them as lesser. From what Suguru had seen, someone’s entire reputation (unless they were a Gojo) could fall into the gutter if seen associating with folk of a lower rank.
It’s sad.
To think that associating with other people, children, could bring the downfall of one’s entire reputation. But it’s even sadder that someone would choose to ignore others in need because they cared about the opinions of others so much.
“Mhm,” Nanako smiles, fiddling around with the necklace around her neck.
Mimiko smiles brushing back Suguru’s own hair similar to how he had brushed hers back, “she’s a very pretty noble lady! Sometimes she comes in wearing the prettiest dresses! I hope I can be as pretty as her when I grow up.”
“She always comes in and plays with the kids.” Added Nanako.
“Always?”
“She comes every other week,” Nanako explains but her thoughts taper off as she notices Mimiko running off. Similar to how they had run off to greet Suguru earlier, they took off running again.
It’s actually quite a foreign to Suguru.
He’s been on the receiving end of the girls affection many times but to see them running off towards someone else is… strange.
What’s even stranger is his expression when he turns to see that the someone else that the girls are running off to meet is you.
You’re not dressed in the usual pretty dresses that Suguru sees you in during balls or the summer dresses you wear while promanding with the other ladies of Polite Society. Your hair is pulled back loosely and messily, as if you scrambled to put it back, and your clothes are rather plain and ordinary but Suguru thinks that you look just as beautiful as you always do. In fact, he personally thinks that you look better. That you’re the kind of girl that’s prettier when you’re out of all the fancy clothes that ladies in Polite Society are supposed to wear.
The strangest thing though, by far, has to be the expression you’re wearing.
It’s so different from the calm and collected look you wear while out in Polite Society. This one is so much larger. So much warmer. So much more… you, if that’s possible. Suguru doesn’t even know who you are behind the fancy clothes and practiced smiles but imagines that this must be a glimpse into that person. That person that Satoru is so fond of.
You get down on your knees as the girls get to you and embrace them warmly, not caring that you get dirt on the skirt of your dress or that the girls accidently trample on it as they embrace you.
A smile makes its way onto Suguru’s face.
The girls are so much more gentle with you then they are with him.
“Lady (Y/n).”
Your eyes light up with surprise as you look up at him, “Lord Suguru? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Likewise,” he gives you a closed eye smile, “I sponsor Nanako and Mimiko.”
You smile prettily (though Suguru thinks that all your smiles are pretty), “I like to volunteer here. I can’t come as often as I want but it’s a fulfilling way to spend my time.”
“I didn’t see you as the kind of person to volunteer.” Suguru said, the words slipping from his mouth before he can stop it, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of emotion; doing his best to keep his own expression neutral and unchanged. He feels bad about his words but you can’t take back what you’ve already said. He hopes that you are either dense enough to not hear the insult in his words or nice enough to not care.
He would hate to get on your bad side. Especially when Satoru seems so fond of you already. He may not know exactly what your history with his best friend is but he knows that you’re important to Satoru. That he’s basically besotted with you.
You laugh softly, “not many people in Polite Society would find themselves willingly volunteering at a place like this.”
“And why are you here then? It’s practically social suicide.”
The expression on your face turns fond as you brush Nanako’s hair back behind her ear, “it’s worth the risk.”
Nanako and Mimiko look between the two of you, sharing a look between themselves, before smiling brightly, “how do you know Suguru, (Y/n)?”
“Lady (Y/n).” Suguru corrects.
“Just (Y/n).”
“Hm?”
You turn to Mimiko and brush her hair back similarly like how you had done to Nanako earlier, “friends refer to one another by their first names, do they not?”
The two girls beam brightly and nod eagerly at your words.
His heart warms at the sight. Nanako and Mimiko, from what Suguru has observed, don’t usually warm up to strangers much less look at them with such enthusiasm. And while he worried for the girls he understood that it was hard for them to make connections with others after everything that they’ve been through. (They didn’t even like Satoru much.) It’s certainly a good sign that they’re able to connect with someone other than himself (and each other).
“Are you going to marry (Y/n)?” Mimiko asks, smiling playfully.
Suguru’s cheeks blush bright red while you laugh softly in response.
Nanako and Mimiko knew better than to say things like that. He knows for a fact that they’re saying it on purpose because they’re trying to get under his skin and tease them. Plus, they’ve been continuously getting on his case for him to get married. One would think that they were the parental figures instead of him.
You seem to take it in stride much better, though Suguru assumes that that’s because you’re used to eager mama’s and over zealous men making such comments. It’s been your debut season and you have been the apple of everyone’s eye. The lady to marry. The jewel of the season.
“Why don’t you girls go and play with the other kids?” Suguru suggested it suddenly.
The girls pout.
You kneel down to their level, “we’ll come play with you girls soon, okay? We just need to have an adult conversation.”
The girls look at each other and pout but nod obediently as they run off to play with the other kids.
Suguru finds it hard to look at your face, instead choosing to focus on how you dust the skirt of your dress. It’s something he notices you do a lot. Even when you haven’t been kneeling down in the dirt you have a tendency to reach down dust your dress like a nervous habit. It’s cute.
Suguru clears his throat, “sorry about them.”
“The girls?”
Suguru nods.
“Why?”
“For the marriage comments.”
“Oh? They don’t offend me. Honestly I find it rather sweet. It’s quite the compliment. I see how much the girls look up to you and hear endlessly of how highly they think of you. You’re the apple of their eye.”
Suguru blushes, “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that.”
“But you do admit that they’re fond of you.”
“It’s a sentiment that’s returned tenfold.”
“They’re very lucky. You’re good with children.”
Suguru has never considered himself an expert with kids but he takes pride in how well he’s connected with the girls. He’s always been good with people, which is how he managed to get where he is in the world right now, but the girls were such a different experience. It required him to be so much more vulnerable than he was with anyone else. Even more than how he was with Satoru. Children are, if nothing, experts of knowing when you’re faking your affections and expression.
“So… you aren’t offended at the thought of marrying me?” Suguru asks, hoping you don’t hear the strain in his voice.
“Hm, most ladies would be,” you say, “for someone to speak of them marrying a man below their station. Social death for even the highest of ladies.”
Suguru swallows, feeling a pit form in his stomach.
“But any girl would be lucky to have someone like you.”
He blushes, “you think so?”
“Of course. You’re attractive and well intentioned.” You compliment, “plus, you’re possibly the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. Second only to Satoru.”
Oh yes.
Satoru.
His best friend.
“You know,” you hum softly, your shoulder brushing up against his own, “Satoru mentioned to me that you’re an avid reader.”
Suguru nods, “I am.”
“What’ve you read recently, My Lord?”
“Call me Suguru.”
You raise a brow.
He turns away from you in hopes that you don’t spot the red flush on his cheeks as he repeats your words from earlier, “friends refer to one another by their first names, do they not?”
“Is that what we are?” You tease, “friends?”
“If you want to be.”
“Oh most certainly. Any friend of Satoru’s is a friend of mine.”
Suguru has to shake his head to ground himself. Has to constantly keep reminding himself of just exactly where his thoughts can and can’t go. Things that he’s allowed to feel and things -he looks to you- he isn’t.
“Satoru doesn’t have many friends.” Suguru says.
You smile, “I know. Why else would his parents force him to come over to my house once a week for years when he was younger if not for the fact that he’s practically socially inept.”
“Very true,” Suguru chuckles, “Satoru is rather… wayward.”
“Wayward,” you hum, “what a polite way of saying it. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond of you. You’re rather obstinate.”
Suguru watches you, his eyes soft, “he’s less wayward when he’s with you. His mind wanders less.”
“Do yours?”
Suguru shrugs, “so you asked me about what I was reading earlier.”
You smile knowingly but allow him to change the conversation topic, “I did.”
“I’m currently reading Thomas De Quiency’s Confessions of An Opium Eater.” He notes how your eyes light up at the mention of the book. He smiles, hoping to tease you a bit, “but, I don’t imagine it’s a book a lady would find much entertainment from. Satoru recommended it to me.”
“I’m the one that recommended it to him.”
“Really? How surprising.”
“What did you think?” You inquire, your eyes shining with curiosity.
“His comment on dreams struck a particular chord with me.”
“Oh yes, I find that quite fascinating!”
He chuckles softly, “dreams are unfinished thoughts,” finding your excitement amusing. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so lively before. Think that, yes, this is where you look best. This is-
He does his best to push that thought away before it can fully form in his head.
“(Y/n)!” Mimiko exclaims, as she runs back towards you, a flower in her hands, “look at what I picked for you.”
You kneel down, picking the girl up and spinning her in your arms as you smile softly, “and what have you found?” Not caring that dirt muddies the skirt of your dress as you pick up the young girl and swing her around.
Nanako pouts, “hey! I was the one that found the flower first!”
Mimiko sticks her tongue out, safe in your arms.
Suguru kneels down, picking up Nanako, “well why don’t you show me what you picked then?”
The first time Satoru Gojo sees you is when the two of you are just kids. He’s a boy just about to attend Eton Academy and you’re a young girl who’s just begun to learn the difference between men and women.
Satoru’s parents, citing his lack of friends (his only friend being the young stable boy around his age) and hoping to acquaint him with some ‘proper’ company. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. So, being the ever doting parents that the Gojo’s claim to be they set up a playdate with the family of the viscounts that live close by.
A family of six, if Satoru isn’t mistaken.
The Viscount and his wife, two twin boys around his age and two girls about five and seven years younger respectively.
Satoru finds your older brothers awfully boring. One of them, Satoru thinks, certainly has to be the dumbest person he’s ever met and the other is the most aloof. Such a pair that Satoru is almost a little worried about what might happen next to the Viscount's family in the future and he rarely ever cares about others.
Satoru doesn’t try very hard to get along with the two boys. He lets them show him around briefly, he even plays a couple of games of croquet before disappearing into the manner with the excuse of looking for the bathroom. With any luck, the two of them might forget about him long enough for the remainder of this horrible playdate to end and he can finally leave.
Truth be told, Satoru has always been a little different from the other people around him. Always seen the world a little differently from everyone else. It was almost as if everyone else stumbled around in a world of black and white while he was the only one that could see in colour. The only person who ever came close to understanding him was Suguru Geto, the stable boy and son of his family’s butler. And while it was frowned upon to make friends with the ‘help’ it would be the first time that Satoru could just be… himself.
The young boy could barely even find it within himself to feel bad as he abandoned your twin brother to wander the house. Sure, he’d been given a tour earlier but that had mostly been a quick look around. Satoru hadn’t gotten the chance to actually look at things in the detail that he wanted to.
His eyes wandered from the old curtains, which oddly reminded Satoru of his mother’s dresses, to the long line of photos left to hang up on the wall. Family portraits, Satoru thinks. All the people look vaguely familiar to one another with a familiar resemblance in the eyes and smiles. Satoru’s own family had something similar though the paintings are ones of the patriarch rather than of the entire family.
“It took the painter three weeks to paint that one.” You say.
Satoru isn’t surprised, he had heard you come in, but he feigns surprise. Suguru had told him that it was better to pretend to act normal around other people if he wanted them to like him. He had always found that annoying and pretentious but he would do what he had to in polite society. Especially if it meant he wouldn’t have to hear another lecture from his parents.
You look to be a couple years younger than Satoru as he turns to look at you. Five years give or take one or two in either direction. You’re a small thing, well small compared to him. You’re draped in a cool summer dress while Satoru personally thinks that spring is much too early. There also happens to be pins attached at the edges of the dress reminding him of his own fitting session that he would have to attend later on in the week.
Satoru hates attending fitting sessions. Doesn't see why he always needs to be wearing clothes that fit perfectly, especially because he seems to need to head there at least once every two months now that he’s begun growing. He doesn’t see why he can’t just wear clothes that are a little too big or too small for a little while like Suguru.
You take a step towards him, your eyes never lingering too long on him. Satoru’s always being scolded by his mother for staring at one thing for too long or not keeping eye contact long enough but you seem to have mastered the timing of the gaze perfectly. It’s both polite and respectful.
It absolutely infuriates Satoru.
You regard him with a calm expression that has him forgetting that you’re the younger of the two.
“I see you’ve abandoned the company of my brother.” You state.
Satoru points his nose up, “what of it?”
“It was merely an observation. I meant no harm.”
He then scrunches his face up as he leans down to stare at you. He has to lean down quite far considering you’re short. Though, admittedly you are five years younger than him and he’s tall for his age.
He notices that you’re holding a book behind your back fiddling around the edges of the page self consciously. Satoru had never been a big fan of reading, especially when he was around your age. He’d rather be outside play-wrestling with Suguru or doing some other physical activity or sport. He’d always been very good at physical things.
Admittedly, Satoru thinks you're pretty. Much better looking than your two brothers. So much so that he briefly wonders if the three of you are even related in the first place. If not for the same shape of the eyes, Satoru would have been certain that you were merely children that lived in the same house instead of siblings.
He still thinks that might be the case.
You’ll probably be pretty when you grow up. Perhaps not nearly as pretty as his mother but he’s certain you’ll be… charming? Well, at the very least you won’t be ugly. Especially if you end up taking after your mother. Satoru never really cared much for how pretty other people are but he has always considered himself a good judge.
Finally, Satoru pulls away, “you’re annoying.”
“If you’re attempting to insult me you’re going to have to try a little harder,” you say, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I have two older brothers.”
“And you’re weird.” Huffed Satoru.
Your calm smile turns from calm to amused, “so are you.” Your lips move up more and your eyes seem to linger for just a moment longer on Satoru’s own.
Satoru’s jaw is dropped before he can even realise that it has. Not only is it the first time someone has so brazenly insulted him (not including Suguru) but it’s both the first time a woman (girl) has insulted him and someone younger than him has dared to treat him as an equal. Even most adults didn’t have the guts to bring themselves up to Satoru’s level unless they too stood in the same position as his parents.
But you.
Annoying and weird you are standing there in front of him as if you’re friends joking about a funny joke you just told. Perhaps you do think it’s a joke - which would only further prove to Satoru that you’re weird.
An older woman (likely your Nurse) runs into the room, her expression worried. She quickly bows to Satoru, “sorry, My Lord. The little missy here seems to have a mind of her own most of the time.” She turns to you with a harsh look, “did you say anything to insult the young Lord?”
Satoru expects you to roll your eyes or look away like any normal child would do. Thought maybe you might’ve stomped away angrily or made a face at him when your Nurse wasn’t looking.
Instead, your eyes soften and you smile fondly at your nurse, “I wasn’t on my best behaviour,” you calmly admitted.
Your Nurse sighs as she continues to reprimand you.
Satoru, on the other hand, is left a little shocked and speechless. He isn’t quite sure what happened but the wheels in his hand do begin turning and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He wonders if you can see the colours too.
---
A Conversation
Satoru Gojo comes to the conclusion that, after a while of getting to know you, yes you do see colours just not in the same way that he does. Your skills lie not in a brilliant way to dissect numbers nor demonstrate the ability to memorize new information or pick up skills at the drop of a hat like how he can but there’s nothing about you that can be considered ordinary either.
He heads over to your house at least once a week for the next two years. Not because he wants to, of course, but because his parents have stopped with the lectures about not hanging out with Suguru when he gives into their wishes and spends time at your house. And, sure, your older brother is awfully boring and dull but it gives him the chance to get to know you better. The strangely entertaining and endearing little girl who’s intelligence rivals his own.
It sucks that you don’t actually ever linger around when Satoru is there. You obediently listen to your brothers when they ask you to head elsewhere and you rarely ever spare Satoru a second glance unless Satoru goes out to seek you himself; and even you refuse to spend time with him unless he’s entertaining your brothers.
He notices that you’re an avid reader, always holding a new text in your hand every week. Satoru just knows that his parents wish that they had a child like you. So obedient to your elders and caretakers. So well mannered and thoughtful plus you seem intelligent and well read. He bets that you would have been named heir over your two older brothers if you too had been born a man.
You’re so mature for your age and perhaps that is what Satoru likes about you best.
He doesn’t have to go out of his way to entertain you or have to explain himself when he says something strange or different.
It simply just is.
It takes Satoru exactly two years to figure out why exactly he likes you so much. To come to all those conclusions above and finally get close enough to you that the two of you can consider one another as friends. It’s unfortunate that by then his visits stop as he begins school at Eton’s Academy for Boys. Higher education where any worth a damn in high society attends.
It sucks that he won’t be able to see you much anymore but what can Satoru do against the adamant wishes of his parents?
At least Suguru will be attending with him.
Suguru isn’t you but he’s one of the only people that actually understand him so it won’t be that bad.
You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.
But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.
It had been years since he’d last seen you.
Obviously, he knew that you were going to change. People always changed, both physically and mentally, but he just wasn’t ready for how different you looked. Hadn’t been as prepared for the change as he thought he was.
He’d always known that you would grow up to be pretty but this pretty? It wasn’t what he had been expecting.
Everyone’s eyes are drawn to you.
He knows that you must be the diamond of the season. It would simply be a crime not to. In fact, Satoru himself would march right up to the Queen himself and demand an explanation as to why you were not named the diamond.
Satoru floats through conversations, half of his attention on the conversation at hand and the other half wishing he was speaking to you. You always know the right thing to say to make him smile and he never has to bend over backwards trying to charm you. He knows you already like him exactly as he is. Flaws and all.
It’s unfortunate that his conversation with you ends almost as quickly as it begins.
You’re quickly swept away by some other gentlemen - your dance card full of potential suitors.
It annoys Satoru greatly though he isn’t quite sure why. Obviously, Satoru knows that he enjoys your company and he likes being around you so he’s angry that other people are taking your attention… right? That’s the reason. What else could it be?
Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted with a sharp elbow to his side as he exclaimed quietly, “hey!”
“You were pouting.” Suguru says.
“Was not.”
“Oh, you definitely were.”
Satoru grumbles to himself, annoyed.
Suguru chuckles quietly in response.
“What do you think of (Y/n)?” Satoru asked suddenly.
Suguru ponders briefly, “she’s a little like you.”
“Really?” Satoru raises a brow curiously, “I personally thought she was more like you.”
“How so?”
“She’s good at understanding other people and she cares an awful lot more about what other people think about her than she lets on.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully, “everyone cares about what everyone thinks.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you’re weird.”
“Hey!”
“It’s true,” Suguru gives Satoru a closed eye smile, “you’re weird but not super weird. A little weird.”
Satoru rolls his eyes, “like that’s so much better.”
“Let me put it this way,” Suguru explains, “you don’t care about what everyone thinks but you care about the thoughts of people that are important to you.”
“Isn’t that how everyone should think.”
“Oh, most certainly.”
Satoru knows that Suguru is mostly just entertaining him at this point. His words always have some hidden meaning to them (that Satoru is usually too lazy to dissect) but there are points when he simply says something to entertain Satoru. Suguru has always been thoughtful like that; it’s one of the reasons why Satoru has always liked him so much.
He thinks that that might be why he likes you too.
You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.
But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.
---
The Moment
Satoru is surprised when he sees you sitting by yourself early one spring morning.
Staring off into the distance in the middle of a hill that floats down into a lake.
Fluffs of dandelion seeds float around haphazardly in the air. Almost like snowflakes amidst the cool spring air. The melodic chirping of birds fills the air, though Satoru personally has never been a fan. Many of his classmates had written poems about the birds before. Talking about flight and freedom alongside a musicality that comes so naturally to them compared to humans.
It’s unusual for women, especially young girls who are in search of a husband, to head outside by themselves where any man could just stumble upon them without a chaperone. Satoru bets that you had woken up bright and early just so that you might be able to have a moment alone.
He almost feels a little bad to intrude on your moment alone.
He imagines you don’t get very many.
But he approaches you nonetheless. His heart tugs him towards you much like how a child pulls their parents down the aisles of a candy store. Eager and excited.
“(Y/n)~” Satoru says your name sweetly, liking the way it flows off of his tongue so easily. Thinks that it tastes so much better than some of the sweetest things he’s whispered to others.
You don’t bother turning to look at him as you would have done if this had taken place in the presence of others, “My Lord.”
“Satoru.”
“You really do love saying your name,” you tease, as he takes a seat beside you. He makes a face as the bottom of his pants get wet from the damp grass upon contact. His usual reaction would have been to jump up and scowl. He usually hates any uncomfortable feeling and does anything he can to avoid any such sensations but forces himself to bear with it as your warm shoulder brushes against his own. Well the sleeve of your dress brushes up against the dress-shirt but this is close enough for him. Besides, his pants are already wet now so he can bear with it for a little longer.
The two of you stare off into the distance, staring at the lake.
Satoru notices that you’re still in your nightgown. It’s light and flowy, similar to the clothes you used to wear when you were young. Hot stuffy dresses are what’s most popular now in women’s fashion and being a proper lady of good origins you do your diligence in following the fashion trends. Strangely though, the thought of your subtle acts of rebellion bring a smile to his face. It’s so subtle and detached from the main parts of society yet so much louder than you’ll ever realise.
He bets that your mother would be furious if she found that you were outside and alone with an unmarried man. Furious if you came back with the bottom of your dress soaked from the morning dew and rain.
You probably don’t care though.
Your attention is much better spent on the lake in front of you. (Satoru personally thinks that your attention would be even better spent on him.)
He doesn’t bother to look at the lake he’s already seen hundreds of times in his life.
This is where he and Suguru used to play pirates. Where he’d first been tossed into the lake when the two of them were horsing around and where he had crawled out of angrily. Where he’d caught his first frog and made his first (mud) painting.
This was the lake of his childhood that he loved oh so dearly.
But right now, he found that he’d rather look at you.
The baby fat you had on your cheeks back before he had left for Eton is gone. It makes you look more mature. Less like the girl that made fun of him and more into the woman that would send light teases his way. Makes you seem less like the girl who always carried around picture books and into a young woman that reads intellectual novels that dive into the human.
He’s a little sad. He had quite a fondness for the young girl that managed to make him mad with the single raise of an eyebrow. It’s almost like the loss of someone important to him. Someone he didn’t know that he would miss as much and a version of you that he would never get to say goodbye to.
But, he finds that he has a fondness for the you that’s sitting beside him now.
He wouldn’t go as far as saying that he likes this version more than the young child you but he would admit that this version was much more… exciting to be around. Almost like a mystery that he was working to solve.
A smile pulls at his lips when he notices a book in your lap.
“What’re you reading?” Satoru asks, pointing to the book in your lap.
You brush the cover of the book gently, “Pride and Prejudice.”
“Suguru read that book once.”
“Have you?”
“No. Besides, Suguru said it was just a boring romance novel for women anyways. Says nothing that we don’t already know.”
You smile as you nudge him playfully, “do you let Lord Suguru’s opinions dictate all of your own decisions, My Lord?”
“No,” Satoru pouts, “but I’ve never liked reading much anyways. It’s easier to let him do the reading first. He knows what I do and don’t like. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time reading something I wouldn’t even like.”
Finally, you turn to look at him. To the untrained eye it would be a look of indifference. But to Satoru, your self proclaimed childhood best friend, your expression is one of amusement. From the way your eyes crinkle in the corners slightly to how you sit up more straight ever so slightly and the subtle twitch of your lips. Plus, the most obvious and dead give away to anything, your eyes. They look at him, lingering on his face for a moment longer than they linger on anyone else's as you respond with a soft, “and what do you like to read, My Lord?”
“Comedies usually.”
“Like?”
“Twelfth Night.”
You raise a brow delicately, “Shakesphere?”
Satoru places a hand on his chest, feigning offence, “are you implying that you think I wouldn’t like the works of one of the greatest writers and minds of our time?”
“Oh, I’d never, my Lord,” you eyes crinkle in the corners, “I was simply surprised. Most men I speak with prefer something more contemporary like Wordsworth or perhaps something practical and sensible like a book on agriculture or architecture. They consider things like Shakesphere to be mere entertainment.”
“So then are you implying that you think I have the taste of a woman?”
“And who would you consider yourself akin to then, my Lord? Duke Ceasiro?”
Satoru makes a face.
You chuckle softly in response, “you must admit, the two of you share a certain resemblance.”
“I am insulted on every level, (Y/n).”
“I’m sure you are.”
“I am!” Satoru exclaims, waving his arms above his head, “I am most like the honourable Sebastian.”
“Ah yes, Viola’s twin brother.”
Satoru nods.
“Well, he’s certainly an opportunist.”
“Would you not marry a beautiful woman that you just met and is seemingly in love with you?”
You hum softly as you ponder on the idea.
Satoru remembers how he had dragged Suguru to the play house that day. He had originally gone because there was a particular woman that he wanted to promenade with after but had actually found the show to be quite enjoyable. Suguru was absolutely furious with him but even he had a few chuckles at some moments.
“What was your favourite part about Twelfth Night?” You ask, leaning against him.
“The love triangle.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t the traditional kind of love triangle.”
“A true love triangle, I’d say.”
“The kind you’d like to find yourself in?” You tease.
Satoru shrugs in response.
From where Satoru sat he could see a small group of birds gathering around. They reminded him a bit of the Ton. So easily swept up into a single moment and conversation without much consideration about the world around them. Much thought and consideration is never put into everything else that this world has to offer.
“What kind of stuff do you like to read?” Satoru asks.
You smile, “you mean apart from the book in my hand?” Satoru can tell from the way you lean back away from him with a gleam in your eyes that you’re teasing him.
So he decides to tease you back.
He leans in towards you with a grin, “you and I both know you’re only reading that because it’s popular. It’s not what you actually like to read.”
“And what do you think I like to read?”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I knew the answer.”
“Alright, I’ll bite, Satoru.”
He beams brightly when you say his name.
“The last thing I read for my own enjoyment was, Thomas De Quincey’s, Confessions of an Opium Eater.”
Satoru’s jaw drops, “the drug addict poet?”
“Most writers struggle with addiction.”
“What do you like about De Quincey’s works?”
“He wrote quite a particularly thought provoking piece about the human mind. Looking into the subconscious.”
“Oh?”
“He writes, ‘dreams are the unconscious mind finishing the halted thoughts of the conscious.’”
“A Romantic for sure.”
You beam, “oh, most definitely.”
Satoru thinks that this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile in such a way. If he weren’t already sitting he would have fallen flat on the ground. His heart would have stopped in his chest and he likely would have fallen to the ground and died only then to be once again revived by your beauty.
He thinks that this is where humanity must have peaked. That there will never again be someone that looks as beautiful as you do when you’re smiling. That no one will ever hold such a place in his heart that you do.
He leans towards you with a lovesick smile, “I’m going to marry you.”
You cough a little, “excuse me?”
His smile doesn’t falter, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Why me?”
“You understand me.”
“Hm?”
“You see the world in a way that everyone else doesn’t and you see me for who I am. Not who everyone else thinks that I should be.”
“My Lord-”
“Satoru.” He corrects.
“Satoru,” you lean away, “don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? We’ve barely even had a full conversation since you came back from school.”
“And?”
“You barely know who I am.” You look hesitant, the mask you always wear slipping as if you’ve never worn it before.
He takes your hand before you can bolt off (he hopes that it comforts you the same way it comforts him), “I know that you understand my loneliness. You know how it feels like for the whole world to want you to be a certain way. You’ve perfected the way of living from the way you move to the smile on your face to be exactly what society expects of you.” He feels as though his heart is beating a million beats a minute.
Your expression shifts a little.
Going from hesistance -
- to surprise.
And then suddenly Satoru doesn’t know what it is that you’re exactly thinking right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this expression on you and it worries him a little. His heart is fluttering in anticipation.
Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever been in such an uncomfortable situation before.
Well… there was that one time where Suguru had hidden Satoru’s favourite riding helmet as payback for something stupid he said earlier. In an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, Satoru had gone off with a different helmet and messed up almost everything. Nothing seemed right. His horse, even though it was his favourite steed that he had ridden since he was a boy, just wasn’t listening the way it usually did. He actually almost fell off his horse twice (and actually did fall off once while in the middle of getting on).
Yeah, Satoru thinks, this feeling is a little something like that.
“Satoru.” You hold his hand tightly.
“Hm?”
“Be here with me.”
“I am here.”
“Stay in the moment with me,” you say softly, “your mind keeps drifting elsewhere.”
Satoru’s heart flutters as he smiles down at you fondly, “okay.”
Quote: "Fall in love with someone you can share a secret with."
The gentle breeze of autumn has Portgas D. Ace reminiscing about the simpler moments of life. Like the laughter of his brothers or the frustration when he just can’t remember the exact answer to the riddle. Or the childish fear in his heart for his adoptive grandfather when he gets ready to train them for the marines.
Ace wonders if you had a simple life like him.
Leans forward towards you subconsciously as you look up at the sky, laying beside him on the cool grass.
Ace never much liked the feeling of laying on grass. The subtle movements of the grass in the wind constantly sent his nerves off. Sometimes he thought it might be a bug crawling into his hair; which was a horrible sensation when it really happened - he’d actually spent a week picking bugs out of his younger brother’s hair once. And then there was the smell of pollen and grass which had never been all too pleasant of a scent to Ace. Ten out of ten times he would have chosen the smell of the salty sea over that of the mundane grass and ordinary pollen that comes back every spring.
But, sitting beside you, he finds that he doesn’t mind the sensation all too much. Finds himself enjoying the warmth of the sun against his skin amidst the subtle chatter of animals in the subtleness of fall.
He finds himself noticing the little things like the old watercan left forgotten behind a tree and the overgrown weeds beside the stump of a tree filled with one too many bird holders. The mismatched rocks which had likely been gathered by children at one point in time piled up in both a creative and artistic way. Or, maybe it’s artistic? Ace doesn’t really know anything about art.
Perhaps you know?
Yeah.
Ace smiles.
He bets that you’re the kind of girl that knows about art and stuff. You must like it at least a little if that camera around your neck means anything.
Earlier he had asked you to take a picture and was all but refused which had put him in a bit of an annoyed mood that he tried real hard to push away. Of course he could never actually get mad at you (you were far too gentle for that) but you did seem to have a certain knack for pushing his buttons in every which way.
After a long while you did agree to take a photo of Ace but only in the moment when he least expected it.
Whatever that meant.
You’re so pretty. He thinks he’d rather stare at you then the sky which seems to have fully captured your attention. Honestly, Ace thinks he’s a little jealous of the sky if only for the reason that it has found a way to capture your attention. He wonders too if it has also captured your heart?
If someone else has already found a home in the place where Ace one day hopes to be.
Well…
It-
You turn to look at Ace and let out a little giggle when you notice that he’s been staring at you this entire time.
His cheeks flush red as he turns the other way.
You giggle in response.
It only serves to make his cheeks flush more.
You really are so pretty and in more than just your appearance. Ace has never particularly cared for romance. Never cared to think about girls the way that most boys his age do, preferring instead to look ahead and dream of a better world in front of him. Preferring to dream and charge forward rather than worry about the attention of a pretty face or soft and gentle voice.
And then there’s you.
Ace bets that you have a fondness for gentle men. Preferring someone sweet and chivalrous over a playful and flirtatious man. Ace has never really seen himself as either or and he doesn’t really care to fall into either category but… he does wonder which kind of person you might see him as and if he’s the kind of person that you might like.
He turns back to look at you to be greeted with a warm smile from you.
“What’re you thinking about?” Ace asks, hoping his voice comes out as smooth and calm.
You laugh playfully, “one thing or another, I suspect.”
Ace rolls his eyes but smiles fondly, “yeah? You actually have some thoughts in there, do you?”
“Hopefully~” You grin, nudging him gently.
Ace nods in agreement, nudging you back gently, “hopefully.”
You start to hum softly as you grab onto Ace’s hand, absentmindedly tracing the lines of his hand. Ace has never cared much to look at his hands. Never really traced over the lines of his hand or laboured over how soft or rough they might have felt. Sometimes he did think about how sore they could get after a hard day's work on the ship but other than that his thoughts about the ocean were rather limited. But right now he’s curious about what you seem to find so interesting about it.
Is there something special about his hands?
Do you like how they feel on their own?
He certainly likes the way his hands feel in yours.
“Have you ever wanted to die before?” You ask softly, looking up at Ace curiously.
Portgas D. Ace feels himself freeze in place, the calming atmosphere from the previous conversation earlier dying on the tip of his tongue.
You haven’t noticed Ace’s change in atmosphere or you’re simply choosing to ignore it as you continue to trace the lines embedded in his palm.
Ace clears his throat having only just recollected his composure, “what?”
Or maybe he didn’t gather it as much as he thought.
“Have you ever wanted to die before?” You repeat, your voice as calm and soft as ever.
“Have I ever wanted to die before?” Ace repeats. Has there ever been a moment when Ace thought it would be better to simply stop living than continue on? The answer immediately appears in his mind but he isn’t quite sure if this is something he wants to share with anyone else. It’s not something that he’s ever really thought to share with someone else and the people that had known aren’t the kind of people that he would ever outright go out and tell - rather, they’re the kind of people that managed to force it out of him. Sure, he’s rather thankful that they had managed to get the words out of him in the first place but overall he’s really just not sure. Finally Ace turns to look at you, his eyes steady and his gaze calm, “yes.”
You interlace your fingers with his, “you must’ve had a very sad childhood then.”
“There were both happy and upsetting moments.” Ace says, bringing your hand up to his face. He leans into your warmth and smiles, “but yes, it was during the hardest part of my life, when I felt that I was alone, that I wanted to die most. I didn’t think I was worthy of life simply because of who my parents were.”
“Sometimes having others is the only thing keeping us alive,” you look up to the sky, your eyes closed, as you inhale deeply, “I quite love this world. It’s a shame that this world will never love me in return.”
Huh.
Ace doesn’t think that he can relate. He personally has never cared much for this world. Not only did it curse him into the position of life that he’s in now but it’s never been very kind to him either.
No.
He much prefers the people.
Well, some people.
The gentle people that had been afforded to him. The ones that had cared enough to stick around with him. The ones that saw him for more than the circumstances of his birth. The ones that saw him. The ones that loved him and the ones he loved in return.
Did you love him?
Ace wonders but he doesn’t think he’ll ever ask you.
It’s not a question afforded to the likes of him.
Not a question he’ll ever have the gall to ask. To you or anyone else.
Your eyes soften and your smile is gentle as you turn back to look at him. There’s a fragility in the way you look at him. A look that Ace feels will shatter if he so much as moves another inch. That this moment will slip away from his fingers if he were to call out your name. So instead, he waits calmly and quietly for you to make the first move. One day he’ll look back to regret it but for now he simply enjoys your presence and hopes that the moment can last for as long as it can. For as long as it will.
“Who was it for you?” You ask.
“At first it was my mother,” Ace explains, “because I didn’t have anyone else. And then it was my brothers and now it’s my crew.”
You hum in acknowledgment.
“I actually never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me. I feel like she died because of me.”
Your eyes look at him with such pity and while Ace has never been one to care for pity he feels as if it’s different coming from you. It feels almost like he’s looking in a mirror. That you, better than anyone else, understand what he’s going through right now. He’s not really sure why but he knows that he does.
“You loved her, despite not ever knowing her?” You asked.
“I think I did. It felt more like I owed her something for giving birth to me. Because I took away years from her life.”
“And your father?”
Ace’s face darkens, “no.”
“So much more adamant and certain about your father.” You noted.
“He only ever caused trouble for me and my mom. Honestly, I don’t even know why he had children in the first place. It was as if he didn’t think about the consequences of what it would be if he had a child.”
“Oh?”
“Me being born was a crime in itself.”
“Being born isn’t a crime.”
Ace doesn’t seem to hear your words very well as he continues, “he forced that crime upon my mother. And he died even before I was born. Went off and got himself killed before he even knew me. Though, I guess that’s probably a blessing in disguise. It’s better that I didn’t know him, with how horrible of a person he was.”
“Ace.”
He pauses in his tracks.
The way you say his name is so different from how he’s heard you say it before. He feels as though it holds so much more weight than it had before. That it’s so much heavier. So much louder than before. He suddenly finds himself unable to speak in response, ready and alert to attention as he turns to look at you.
You brush his hair back out of his face gently, “living isn’t a crime. Children don’t inherit the crimes of their parents.” You flick his forehead, “and besides, it’s not as if you actually want to die anyways. You think it’s some burden that you have to take on but in your heart you’re too scared to die.”
Ace huffs, a pout on his lips, as he brings a hand up to cover the spot where you had flicked his forehead, “and how do you know that?”
“Because if you had wanted to die you wouldn’t be here now, would you?” You laugh as if Ace had just told a hilarious joke, “and besides, death is scary. It isn’t until we’ve accepted the lives that we’ve lived that we’re able to head into death with a smile. And even then, there are only a few who are able to die with a smile.”
“Do you think I will?”
“Who knows.”
His heart beats erratically as you pull away from him and turn your attention back to the bright blue sky.
“I don’t really know what I want out of life.” Ace admits.
“It’s okay,” you hum, “I don’t either.”
Fall in love with someone you can share a secret with.
Quote: "Fall in love with someone that tells you their secrets."
Akaza sees no use in you as he stares down at you.
You seem to have no use.
There’s no particular special skill you have or an interesting fighting style that you seemed to have developed. You don’t seem to have a particularly keen mind in battle strategy or a high level of knowledge in one specific thing.
You are, for lack of better words, weak.
Practically useless.
But, it’s not Akaza’s place to make judgements on your use. It’s not his place to determine what might happen to you next. To him, it merely feels as though he exists to exist. Spends his days constantly fighting and getting stronger. Endlessly, as if it’s the only way for him to live. Actually, it might just be. He’s always moving on. Always pushing forwards towards something bi-
Something b-
Something?
Something he just can’t name or remember.
But it’s something.
It has to be.
The trees are blowing gently in the evening summer breeze. Akaza would have draped you in a jacket or something but he was really only wearing pants and didn’t have anything sufficient on his person. Demons didn’t feel the shifts in temperature the same way humans did and Akaza personally found the extra layers to be suffocating. He did consider running out to grab something for you but you had gently declined his offer citing that you too were a demon and didn’t need anything extra to keep you warm.
Akaza would have to take your word for it.
Despite the fact that you did look… rather cold.
Perhaps you found the extra layers suffocating as well?
You’re so fragile looking. As if he could walk up to you and snap you in half in only one of his hands. Akaza wonders if a breeze in the wrong direction would send you stumbling over into a mess or if you tumble off into the distance, forever forgotten by this cruel and unrelenting world.
“Has something caught your attention?” You ask gently, your eyes meeting with Akaza’s own.
He feels as if he’s suddenly stuck in place and his ability to speak suddenly alludes him.
The clarity and calmness of your gaze is something Akaza is certain he’s never quite seen before yet simultaneously something nostalgic. Something that reminds him of something he’s long forgotten but years desperately to remember. Or at least something that his heart years to remember. His brain seems eager to push the thoughts away as the pounding sensation only eases up as he turns away from your gaze.
Akaza’s voice is rough and harsh as he responds with a curt, “no.” Secretly, he hopes that he doesn’t offend you too much.
You hum softly in acknowledgement. From Akaza’s peripheral, he can see that you’ve turned your attention back to the darkness ahead of you and lets out a quiet sigh of relief as you do.
The darkness has never been an issue for Akaza. As a demon, the world seems to move slightly differently than it had when he was a human. Actually, he’s not quite sure how he knows that - just that he knows he does. Darkness isn’t as dark. Light isn’t as bright. Movements aren’t as fast and your own aren’t as slow. For you the darkness seems to be more of an issue as your eyes squint as you look off into the distance. From Akaza’s perspective, it looks as if you’re searching for something in the distance. Waiting for something or someone. He thinks that he can relate to that feeling. Feels as though he too is searching for something in the unknown darkness that he can never seem to escape. He wonders if that escape is in pushing himself further and testing the limits of his strength.
It has to be.
It must be.
It must be.
“You remind me of someone I once knew.” You say, your gaze still staring off into the distance.
Akaza huffs gruffly in response.
You remind him of someone too. Send his differently beating heart into a tizzy of unfamiliar and foreign flutters. Push his mental state in different ways that it hadn’t been pushed in before. Make his head pound loudly with an unfamiliar beat.
You tentatively grab a flower that had been growing at your feet, twisting the stem between your fingers methodically, “you don’t remember much from your past, do you?”
Akaza nods.
“Well, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Or, at least that’s what everyone else has always said to me. What use is there to remembering the past when your life is so different now? What use is being who you were when it will only get in the way of who you are now?” You ramble on in an unfamiliar fashion, “what’s the point of ever remembering pain when the life ahead of you will be filled with so much more.”
You don’t speak much with the others.
Or, at least you don’t speak much in groups.
Rarely ever speak unless spoken to first.
But it’s not as if Akaza ever actually sees you interact with the others one on one. He does wonder but the wonder is only ever a brief passing thought. As if the energy required to think of such things is not something that is easily afforded to him. That it’s not something he should concern himself with at all.
Suddenly, you pluck the flower from the stem which you had been so gently handling earlier.
It’s almost a violent action if you take into account how quick everything seemed to happen.
If you had been quick enough to notice the glaze over your eyes.
Or the twitch of your lips.
And, perhaps if Akaza had been faster, he might’ve seen the-
Instinctively, Akaza takes a step back. He isn’t quite sure why he does it at all. It’s the same reaction one often has when their body senses imminent danger but you’re not dangerous at all… are you? You’re gentle and delicate and soft. Something needing protection. Why else would he be here?
“Scared?” You tease, your voice playful.
Akaza forces himself to look you in the eyes.
They’re quite beautiful as far as eyes go. A conventional attractiveness to them. A look that demands the attention of everyone around them and a brilliance that screams something outside of the ordinary.
The loud baning in his head is back.
That’s annoying.
Much like the Upper Demons, your eyes are engraved with words upon them. It’s an eerie thing to look at, especially on a face like yours. It reminds Akaza more of loss and evokes a feeling of pity rather than the joy and excitement he had felt when he received his own. If that feeling could even be considered joy in the first place. Perhaps accomplishment is a better word for the feeling.
Perhaps not.
“No.” Akaza shakes his head.
You stand up gracefully and glide over until you’re standing directly in front of him. You’re gentle and soft and everything that Akaza expects a woman to be as you push his short hair back and nestle the flower you plucked behind his ear.
You lean down, your eyes meeting with his own.
He wonders if he should look away first.
He won’t.
He doesn’t.
But he does wonder.
Wonder in the same way he always does when you’re around.
“You know, I don’t have any memories of my past either.” You admit, taking a seat on the ground in front of him, “it kind of feels like everything has always been the way it has. The people around me have changed but I can’t seem to remember a moment in my life where I wasn’t like… this.”
Akaza watches you curiously.
“Honestly, I’m a little envious of you. Sure, you’ll spend the entirety of your life living to the whims and not understanding why but you’re spending it doing something that-” You trail off.
His heart does a strange sort of flutter as he thinks about you.
You’re delicate.
Not, of course, to be confused with fragile.
Your brain moves in such intricate and unique ways.
Twisting and turning in a way that is uniquely you. Something that is so similar to the people around you yet so different from anyone that Akaza has and will ever meet. Certain mundane moments. A look into your mind. An intimate feeling almost. Though, Akaza suspects that this is how most things are with the people around you. An intimate moment and thought shared between a half complete sentence that you changed your mind about midway through the conversation. A glimpse into how your mind works.
Akaza feels the hint of a smile crawl up on his face, “you don’t.”
“I don’t.” You admitted.
“You’re different from how I thought you’d be.” Akaza says, his voice much smoother and calmer than it had been before, “different from how I thought you were.”
You mumble something akin to agreement.
Akaza doesn't push for more.
He’s always been the kind of person to take what he can get.
Right?
Well… at least he thinks he is.
He thinks he was?
“You’re quite like the person I thought you’d be,” you declare, “exactly the way everyone else had described and exactly who you claim to be.”
Akaza raises a brow.
“You are exactly as you were in every way I thought you’d be,” you continue, “and different in every way that I couldn’t have imagined.”
The compliment makes his stomach twist in knots.
Or at least, he thinks it’s a compliment.
He’s never been all too good at knowing the difference between a compliment or insult unless it was blatantly obvious.
You hum softly to yourself, “being different is a good thing. It keeps us sane. Keeps us from falling into the mundanities of a predetermined life. Makes everything more interesting than it has ever been before for someone else. I think everyone, in some way, wants to be different from the people around them. Hopes to be different in a way that makes them brilliant.”
Akaza wonders if your hair is soft.
Wonders if he should reach out and push it back.
He doesn’t.
Instead he leans in ever so slightly, but still maintaining a proper distance between you and himself. You smell nice. Like home if Akaza has ever had one to begin with. Or at least this is what he imagines home would smell like if he knew what the word meant. What he wants it to smell like if he ever gets the privilege or chance.
“You wish to be like everyone else, don’t you.” Akaza states.
Your perfectly crafted calm expression falters for a moment and your eyes widen ever so slightly.
Akaza wonders if you’ll lash out at him in anger.
If you’ll attempt to convince him otherwise.
Or if you’ll simply accept the outcome of the situation as it is.
“Yes,” you finally smile an honest smile, “and no.”
“Yes and no?”
“No one wants to be ordinary. Boring.” You say the word as if it’s venom on your tongue, “but neither does anyone else ever want to stand out. We want to be admired by everyone else but we also crave to be with everyone else. It’s simply human nature.”
“We aren’t humans.”
“We once were.”
“And you believe that those feelings still linger there in your chest? You believe that the things your mind can not hold onto still exist in your heart that barely beats?” Akaza wonders if his words come out harshly or inquisitive. He’s never been the best at regulating his emotions and even worse at understanding others reactions to it.
But you seem to take it in stride.
You hum softly, “yes.”
He thinks that you’re speaking more to yourself than you are to him.
Akaza shakes his head, “you’re naive.”
“Perhaps so, but naivety is something that we can only lose in this world. And, while it’s not a good thing, it's the last part of our youth.”
“Are you young?”
“No.”
“Then why do you cling to your youth?”
“Because it keeps me from losing myself.”
Fall in love with someone that tells you their secrets.
Quote: "Fall in love because it's no longer a secret."
Love, to Jean Kirstein, is something that is shown obviously. Between grand gestures, longing looks and silent moments, the existence of love between two people is one of the most obvious things that can be observed in the world. And while love is something that is so freely shown in the world, falling in love is something that’s kept secretly.
---
“It seems that all of the carts have already left.” You sigh, arms crossed at your chest as you stand alone beside Jean. “How lamentable.”
“Why the hell did they leave without us?” Jean cursed.
“People from the first round of carts likely assumed that we’d be on the second round of carts while the people in the second round assumed we had already left.” You gave a short shrug before turning to face Jean. “At least neither of us are here by our lonesome.”
Jean lets out a scoff. “Yeah, because I’m thrilled to be stranded here with you.”
A surprised look crosses your features for a moment. If Jean wasn’t already irritated with the situation, he might’ve found some amusement in your reaction.
Among the entirety of the 104th Cadet Corps, it’s no secret that you are the most admired trainee of all. Top of the class in academics, top of the class in hand to hand combat, top of the class with ODM gear and a unique personality to top it off. It leaves little room to wonder why you were so admirable.
And while you are the most admired trainee overall, for some you are the most detested.
What was so special about you anyway? Was it your way of speaking? The way you held yourself? Or was it something as simple as the way you excelled at so many things?
These were only some of the questions that Jean wondered.
What was so great about being top of the class when it was no different from being within the top ten? Jean told himself that things like that didn’t matter. There was nothing about it that Jean wanted for himself. So long as he was a part of the top ten, there was no need to envy or admire you. In fact, Jean preferred to keep himself at a distance from you so that other cadets wouldn’t get the wrong idea about his opinions toward you.
But as Jean was someone who loved to brag, your name was one that always rivalled his.
‘Jean is pretty steady in the air.’ ‘(Y/n) looks like she was born to fly!’
‘Jean gave me some tips for landing.’ ‘(Y/n) offered to spot me while I correct my form!’
‘Jean is good with the ODM gear.’ ‘(Y/n)’s great at everything!’
It was ridiculous how easily you excelled and it honestly pissed Jean off. He worked hard to get to where he was so it’s no wonder why he was a part of the top ten, but you? Jean doubted that you ever had to work for something you wanted.
Despite his grievances you are, to Jean’s dismay, bright.
You blaze oh, so very brightly.
People are drawn to you like moths are drawn to a flame. They adore you as though you were the first person to walk the earth. It’s ridiculous.
Perhaps most damning of all, Jean’s dislike of you felt unreasonable. He understands why he dislikes someone like Eren who is somewhat like himself, hotheaded and stubborn, but you don’t particularly display any traits that people actively dislike. In fact, Jean thinks that he might actually like you if you weren’t so… you.
Always smiling for others. Always catering to others' whims. Something about it was just so irritating and Jean couldn’t wrap his head around it.
When Jean suddenly clicked back into the situation, he noticed your form retreating away from his own. “Where the hell are you going?!” He called. He didn’t really want to have a prolonged conversation with you, but you were also the only person around for miles. Jean might not like you very much, but being alone was practically asking for something bad to happen.
You turned and met Jean’s gaze curiously. “I’m returning to our base of operations.”
“From here? Don’t be stupid! It basically takes an hour for the carts to get all the way out here! Walking that will take… hey! Don’t ignore me!”
It was supposed to be a regular training session with the ODM gear before the extended break, but a few too many taunts sparked a ‘friendly’ competition. It essentially boiled down to people flinging themselves into the air to see who could get the highest above the treeline.
All was going well for Jean until you decided to join the fray.
It only took you two attempts to surpass Jean’s record. Granted, other people had surpassed his record too but when you did it Jean found it oddly irritating. For once in his life, Jean wanted to prove that he wasn’t less than you. By the time everyone else had gotten tired of the competition, Jean was still trying to surpass you.
Just as Jean felt a particularly strong attempt coming on, a coil in his ODM gear snapped. As he began falling back below the treeline he had to hope that someone was around to notice his rapid descent. If not then… well, things wouldn’t end very well.
Thankfully, as Jean fell beneath the treeline someone noticed him. They grabbed onto his hand (though it was more like they tackled him mid-air) and swung with him through the forest. The landing was less than ideal as Jean ended up tumbling across the forest floor with whoever had come to his aid.
Of course it was you. It just had to be you.
And of course when you stood up you just had to look down at Jean with that polite smile of yours. Was this your way of mocking him? With a grin? Why be so polite? Why not just laugh at him instead? Something like that would’ve made it much easier to hate you.
Jean gritted his teeth as you continued to walk away from him. Chasing after you was beneath him, but this wasn’t about chasing after you. This was about making sure neither of you died. Yes, that’s right. It was just about survival.
Although his body (and quite frankly his mind) protested it, he chased after you until he was able to grab onto your sleeve.
“Are you seriously going to walk all the way back to base?” Jean challenged.
That’s when you, in all your glory, smiled. “Of course I am. It’s too cold out here to not walk back to base. If we walk at a good rate we will arrive approximately one hour after sunset.”
Jean frowned at your apparent logic. “Why don’t we just wait here? Someone will come back when they realise that you’re not at base.”
You shake your head, Jean’s jab clearly missing its mark. “They’ll likely assume that I already left to go to town. Even if they don’t, there’s no reason that anyone would be so interested in my whereabouts that they’ll investigate my absence. Naturally that would mean that people won’t get worried about our wearabouts until after the break.”
Jean can’t help but scoff at your answer. “Whatever. You’re the ace of the class so of course people will be wondering where you are.”
“It’s better not to test that theory. Wouldn’t you agree?”
After no response from Jean, you lightly pull your arm away from the boy’s grip. A moment after though, Jean stops you yet again. “Why don’t we just wait for someone from a nearby town to come and scoop us up?”
You shake your head yet again. “I don’t believe that strangers are a reliable option at this point in time. While it’s always possible that they’ll be kindhearted citizens, it wouldn’t be in our best interest to bet on a band of travellers to pass this area. It will be much more time effective if we begin walking back at this very moment.”
Despite the fact that he already agrees with your decision to walk back, Jean wracks his brain for a better alternative. “What if we set up camp for the night and walk back during the day?”
You pause for a moment as you genuinely consider this option, but you ultimately shake your head. “No, I don’t believe that’s a good idea either. We don’t have any of the proper supplies to sustain ourselves through the night. Plus, you’re injured. If we don’t get medical attention as soon as possible it might get worse.”
Your comment about Jean’s injury surprises the boy. He had purposely been hiding it from you to avoid being pitied, but you’d noticed anyway. How annoying. “So you would make me walk back even though I got hurt?” Jean is basically putting words in your mouth at this point. Still, you remain calm and collected.
“If push comes to shove, I’ll carry you.” You answer honestly. “But as it stands, I don’t believe that is what you want. Unless I am mistaken, of course.”
Jean now finds himself frowning. No matter how hard he may try, he can’t find a way to break you down. It doesn’t matter. This vein of logic is already a lost cause. He might be able to trip you up with something else, but he can’t really think of anything right now. So despite his grievances, he begins walking back with you.
---
It’s been well over three hours since the two of you began walking back. The sun has just dipped below the horizon and at this point, Jean regrets walking with you. Not only does his ankle hurt like hell, but he’s getting pretty damn cold.
“I thought you said we’d be back at sunset.” Jean grumbles.
You turn over your shoulder briefly. “You are mistaken. I proposed that we would be back approximately one hour after sunset if we set a good pace.” Of course you were smiling. Was this your way of mocking Jean? If it was, it was definitely doing a good job.
Jean clicks his tongue. “So we’re still an hour out?”
“No, we’re not.”
“What do you mean we’re not?”
“Our pace has determined that we will reach the training grounds at approximately midnight.”
“What!?” Jean stops in his tracks. He isn’t sure if he does this because of the shock or if it's because he really can’t go on.
He really is so cold.
You turned to face Jean, smiling. Always you and your smiles - your perfectly stationary smiles. Couldn’t you just be irritated already? You’re so annoyingly patient and that smile makes it worse.
“Your pace has slowed significantly from an hour ago. Could it be that your injury has-?”
“Shut up. I’m fine. Just worry about yourself, why don’t you?”
“If I only looked out for myself I would’ve left you behind when you first fell.”
“What, am I supposed to thank you or something? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! It’s not like we’re friends or anything.” Jean snaps, catching you way off guard - which is a bit surprising since this isn’t the first time you and Jean have had a scuffle.
Although you open your mouth to reply, no words form. You, little miss perfect, finally show a crack. You, with all your fancy words and larger than life attitude, are finally left speechless. It’s satisfying. Jean bets that if he keeps pushing it’ll only be a matter of time before you snap and fall from your high horse. What a sight that would be to see.
But alas, that doesn’t happen. Your moment of surprise didn’t last as long as Jean hoped it would. Soon enough, you’re back to smiling.
“It’s okay if you feel that way. I still like you anyway.”
Though Jean tries to reply, no words leave his mouth. In fact, he can’t seem to formulate anything other than the fact that he’s cold.
He really is so damn cold.
---
One of Jean’s fondest memories was when he climbed a tree to save a cat. Technically speaking he didn’t save the cat, not to mention that he ended up falling out of the tree and hurting himself. Actually, scratch that. Jean’s fondest memory was after he fell out of a tree when he tried to save a cat.
He’ll always remember the way his mother carried him back to the house. The whole time she carried him back, all Jean did was complain about the cat. He had tried to do a nice thing yet was scorned for it. In the back of his mind Jean was waiting for his mother to scold him, but she never did. She simply let Jean cling to her as he complained.
Perhaps the most memorable part of it all was how warm and calm he felt as his mother carried him. At the time Jean didn’t know why she did it. Even now he wonders why. Was she too annoyed with him to speak? Angry, even?
But that was overcomplicating things. After all, it wasn’t irritation or frustration, but a simple gesture that reinforced the fact that she loves him.
---
It’s warm…
Jean isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he knows that time has definitely passed. After all, the sun is gone and the moon has risen into the sky. As he comes to his senses Jean realises that his chest is pressed against your back while his body moves in rhythm to your steps. If he was a little more awake he would’ve protested the fact that you were carrying him, but he wasn’t. Was it because your body was so much warmer than his own? Was that the reason why he felt so at ease right now?
“You’re always like this…” Your voice is soft as you speak - almost like you aren’t even talking to anyone at all. “Always so stubborn and hotheaded…”
Jean has half a mind to begin arguing with you, but he doesn’t start just yet. He strangely finds himself listening to every word you say.
“Always so brash and eager… but I guess I’m no better. No matter how many times we share conversation, I always end up getting swept up in your flow. I always end up saying more than I mean to. One of these days I’m going to tell you something you definitely aren’t meant to hear and I’m not even going to realise it.”
And there it is again - a strange twitch of Jean’s heart. It’s what Jean has convinced himself is irritation. Whenever you smile at him; when you laugh at his jokes; when you genuinely compliment him; it’s always the same thing.
“You’re so damn annoying.” Jean mutters out.
You go silent for a moment, but Jean can feel your slight convulsions against his chest - you’re laughing at him. “We have yet to arrive at our destination, Jean, but we’re getting close. The lights of the Cadet Corps training grounds are only a little ways away.”
“Shut the hell up. You’re not a special snowflake and you wouldn't do half of what I do. You're lazy and pathetic; a waste of time and space. Your opinions are worthless.”
“Aren't opinions only valued by the people who find them convenient anyway?”
“That too. You always have to try and sound deep and philosophical, but you never come off that way. How about you stop trying to impress everyone around you and focus on something more important like getting a life?”
You laugh out loud at Jean’s remark this time, making the boy flush in presumed frustration. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“Oh, are you offended? I bet you don't know the first thing about harshness because your entire life is like a walk in the park compared to mine.”
“It probably is. At least, in certain ways.”
“See, you can't even deny me with any confidence. You know nothing, just like a normal worthless citizen of the world. I don’t even want to waste any more of my time with your insignificant self.”
“You’ll still stick around anyway.” You muse.
“And how are you so sure of that?”
“Because I like you - and people tend to like you as much as you like them.”
“What? Are you saying that I’ll stick around because you like me that much?”
“The opposite, actually.” You laugh to yourself again, making the heat in Jean’s cheeks more apparent than before. “I’ll stick around because you’re the one who likes me.”
You are the most admired trainee of all, a fact that comes as no surprise. Nearly every aspect of the classroom setting finds you at the top of the class, leaving little room for doubt as to why you are so admirable.
You are an object of admiration.
A brightly burning star that illuminates the sky.
Though people are drawn to you like moths drawn to a flame, you never allow anyone to draw too near. You always keep others an arm’s reach away; always hide behind perfectly practiced smiles and intricately woven words because as bright as you blaze, you burn just as harshly.
As with most flames, Jean knows he cannot allow himself to draw too close to you.
But right now, you’re so warm.
Right now, no matter how brief this moment, she was his.
Quote: "Fall in love with someone because it's a secret."
Iwaizumi falls in love like a tree branch beneath snow. It gathers slowly and surely until the pressure causes the branch to break apart from the rest of the tree and he finally realizes what has happened.
---
“Do you have a crush on anyone, Hajime?” You ask.
Iwaizumi Hajime, your childhood friend and companion, chokes on his sandwich, surprised by your sudden question, “pardon?”
You smile warmly, “Is there someone you like?”
Iwaizumi turns away from you, his cheeks flushed bright red, “no.”
“Really?” You give him a playful grin as you rest your head on his shoulder, “that sucks.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Well, as long as you don’t care, I don’t see why I should either.”
Iwaizumi finds himself silently thanking the fact that you’ve decided to drop the conversation topic. He doesn’t know how much longer he would have been able to bear without suddenly confessing all his feelings to you like some love sick school boy; though all things considered, Iwaizumi didn’t consider himself much better than the love sick school boy beside him.
Iwaizumi doesn't have much time to silently thank whatever God that might be out there for this moment of reprieve as his brain is much too focused on the feeling of you against him as you rest your head on his shoulder.
You’re warm. Or at least warmer than him.
And your body is soft against his own.
He’s struggling to come up with any coherent thoughts, to be honest.
Focused more on the sensation of you than anything else.
Oikawa pouts, hanging off on your arm as he pulls you off of Iwaizumi’s shoulder and into his own embrace, “aren’t you curious about who I like?”
Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he’s thankful or annoyed.
“No,” you smile playfully, your eyes squinting as you look at Oikawa, the sun getting in your eyes, “I don’t care~”
Oikawa pouts, “(Y/n)!”
Iwaizumi’s heart pangs in a strange way.
He watches as his friend’s eyes soften and his pouting face turns into something more akin to a soft smile. A certain kinda smile that’s only ever been reserved for you. It’s one of those smiles that movie stars make when they’re pretending to be in love with their counterpart in those corny romantic movies that his mother likes to watch.
An uncomfortable churning in Iwaizumi’s stomach accompanies the strange pang in his heart.
Iwaizumi has never been the smartest of the bunch. Never been the kid that wins awards for being really proficient in a particular topic or the kind to win medals because he excels over his peers. He’s always been more on the athletic side but never enough to garner attention from adults in the same way that you and Oikawa had.
He’s never been the kid that adults like because he’s so obedient but neither has he been one of those troublemakers that finds themselves in the principal’s office every other day. He’s just always kind of existed.
In truth, Iwaizumi feels a little guilty when he thinks about his feelings. Especially as he looks over to his friend who seems absolutely smitten. Who is absolutely smitten with you. Iwaizumi finds himself constantly wondering if he’s a bad friend.
Oikawa has never had a shortage of girls fawning over him but rarely has Iwaizumi ever seen him look at someone the same way he looks at you. In fact, Iwaizumi would even go as far as saying that there is no one that he looks at the same way. No one that he watches with such reverence or warmth.
You lean over, resting your head on Iwaizumi’s lap, “you okay?”
Iwaizumi nods in response, hoping you don’t notice the red flush of his ears.
Praying that Oikawa doesn’t either.
He must be a bad friend.
You sigh deeply.
“Are you okay?” Oikawa asks, poking your cheek.
“Yeah,” you hum, “I’m okay. Just debating the right way of telling the two of you that I’m moving at the end of the year.”
“My parents got good paying jobs there.” You answer, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.
Oikawa breaks out into a series of pours and complaints while you simply nod calmly in response.
Iwaizumi feels all the twisting and fluttering from earlier suddenly drop.
Yours and Oikawa’s words seem to fade into the background, the loud pounding of his heart moving to the forefront. His ears are ringing and his heart begins to hurt. Aching the same way it did when his pet goldfish died. He isn’t quite sure what this feeling is and why he’s even feeling it in the first place.
He reaches out and grabs your hand.
Iwaizumi comes to the conclusion that he’s definitely a bad friend.
---
Iwaizumi had never been one to care for skipping class but he did happen to enjoy the privilege of getting to leave class early during volleyball exhibition matches. Usually he’d head to the gym after class but sometimes they’d be lucky enough to have a practice match against a team from a neighboring school. Today’s match in particular was from a school that was a little further away, which is why Iwaizumi found himself packing up his belongings twenty minutes before class would end.
Some of Iwaizumi’s teammates would leave a little earlier, taking advantage of the situation to get out of class even earlier, but Iwaizumi liked to do things properly. He never crossed unless the crosswalk allowed him to; never skipped his early morning cleaning duties; and never left classes early unless necessary.
The teacher gives him a small nod as he quietly exits the classroom.
Iwaizumi immediately begins to make his way to the gym where he and the rest of his teammates are supposed to meet up though, knowing his coach and faculty advisor, they’re likely going to be running late.
The hallways are surprisingly quiet during the hours of class.
Empty and filled with a calm ease. Yet, strangely warm and almost nostalgic though why nostalgic Iwaizumi isn’t really sure. Perhaps melancholy instead? In a way, it reminds him of a moment in time that he hasn’t yet lived before.
A faint breeze wafts in through a window that’s been left open ever so slightly.
It’s strangely isolating being out here in the hallways alone.
The silence feels blaring; accompanied only by the faint muffled voices of teachers through the heavy doors of the classrooms.
Iwaizumi thinks that maybe these hallways are a little like him.
People rarely stop to give the hallway a second glance until they’re there alone. Sure, everyone knows the hallway exists, they walk past it and through it every day of their life, but no one ever stops to spare it a second glance. They find it plain and perhaps a little boring. There never is anything extraordinarily unique about hallways or particularly exciting. It is, more than anything, an afterthought in everyone’s minds.
And Iwaizumi thinks that it’s okay. He’s never cared to be the centre of attention. Never cared for everyone else to turn and look at him. He’s only ever wanted to live his life to the best of his abilities. Being the best person he could be and trying his best at wherever he happened to be doing in that moment of place or time. He’d save the boastful peacocking to his hyperactive and arrogant best friend.
All the second year classrooms are aligned side by side and Iwazuimi’s just happens to be in the middle. Usually he takes the stairs to the left as they’re the closest to the gym. Saves him a couple of precious seconds as well as backtracking. Really, there's a point in going right. No benefit for him in any logical sense.
Yet, today, despite not having much time to spare, Iwaizumi chooses to go to the right.
Illogical, yes. Nonsensical, yes. And perhaps even a little senseless.
But not without reason.
Well a reason that Iwaizumi would never admit allowed.
Something he’d never admit to his best friend or any of his teammates. He sure as heck would admit it to any of the teachers if he were caught and most definitely he would not admit it to you.
You were, afterall, the reason why he had even gone this way at all. The only reason why he ever thought to go left.
Your classroom is farthest to the right and right before the staircase. Directly across from the window left slightly open. Briefly, Iwaizumi allows himself a moment to look outside feeling almost carefree and young. He thinks that maybe this is how everyone else must feel when they’re breaking the rules. Not that Iwaizumi has never broken the rules before but this is the first time he has ever allowed himself such indulgence before.
Then, he peaks into your classroom through the window on the door.
Everyone’s attention is diligently on the teacher as they scribble away. Different from his own classroom’s behaviour. Not that Iwaizumi’s classmates are bad students but they certainly aren’t as diligent as your own. And he’s certainly not as diligent as you.
You sit somewhere in the middle of the classroom, similar to where he sits in his own classroom, but Iwaizumi is able to spot you immediately. He’s usually able to. Bets that he would be able to spot you in a more crowded situation if given the chance.
You have always been, at least to him, as bright as the sun. So brilliant and warm. The centerpiece of attention that everyone’s eyes are drawn to and the person that no one can ever seem to look away from, Iwaizumi included.
He’s honestly a little embarrassed.
Never once has Iwaizumi ever admitted to having liked a girl before. Sure, there had been girls that had caught his attention. Girls that had made his heart race and ones that he thought pretty. Ones that made his cheeks flush bright red and others that he had considered leaning in to kiss before but none of them had ever made him feel the same way that you had.
None of them were you.
You.
Pretty you.
Sweet you.
His childhood friend and the girl that he would one day refer to as his first love.
You were quite the opposite of him. Sure, you liked to sit in the same place during class and you’re both diligent students and managed to hang out with the ever belligerent and cocky man known as Oikawa Tooru but that is where the similarities ended.
Unlike Iwaizumi, you were anything but an empty hallway in the middle of the day twenty minutes before classes ended. You’re bold and brilliant. Eye catching in a way that he’ll never be. Not only are Iwaizumi’s eyes always immediately drawn to you but so are everyone else’s. You’re the kind of girl that lights up the room when she walks in and brings smiles to everyone else’s face when you laugh.
The kind of girl everyone likes to be around.
The kind of girl that everyone notices.
And unfortunately, not the kinda girl that would notice him.
Sure, you and Iwaizumi are childhood friends but he was never really the one that made your eyes light up and made you smile so brightly and warmly the same way it did when you were around others. Sure, you and him got along well but he would never be the kind of guy that made your heart race. He would never be the kind of guy that made you blush or the one you’d think of in the middle of the night, unable to fall asleep.
Iwaizumi takes a deep breath as he steps away from the classroom door and towards the open window.
Being alone in the usual busy hallway is strangely isolating.
As a second year middle schooler, Iwaizumi Hajime had no idea about high school.
He rarely ever thought about what he might do when he grows up.
Never really considered the idea or marriage.
But he did think about you.
And sure, you’re moving at the end of the school year. And, you’ll probably never be aware of how he feels; his feelings being kept hidden away under a lock and key. And maybe you’ll never notice Iwaizumi but until then Iwaizumi thinks that he’d like to be with you.
Quote: “Fall in love when you’re happy.” & “Fall in love when you’re confused.” & “Fall in love when you’re sad.”
Memories
21 Years
When a boy does something stupid once it’s usually because he’s curious.
When he does something stupid twice it’s usually because of a girl.
Uchiha Obito, who had never really considered himself the kind of person to do something stupid until right now. This party was simply one of several that he had decided to attend that year and they had only just reached midterms.
Any other time of the year, Obito would have preferred to have just stayed home and watched television. Maybe invite a friend or two over to watch some television with him if he was really feeling up to it. But, unfortunately, he found himself at another one of the big frat parties because his friends had wanted to.
Well… one friend in particular.
And yes, that friend happened to be a girl.
And yes, he liked-
And now, he found himself sitting outside alone in the cold nursing a beer that he doesn’t really like the taste of. Thinks himself more of a whiskey kinda guy than a cheap beer man but he’ll take what he can get.
Anything to help to ease the pain of seeing the girl he likes fawn over someone else.
He takes in a deep breath to help ease the bitter taste of the beer.
The sky is pretty tonight. The stars are bright against the inky black sky and remind Obito of when everything in his life was easier than what it was now. Bring him back to a day when he was just a young boy trying his best to impress a girl he liked.
Well, perhaps not much has changed.
He’s still trying his best to impress a girl but he sure as heck isn’t a young boy and it’s much more than just a girl he likes. It’s a girl he knows for certain that he’s in love with. The girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with. And life sure as heck is anything but easy - though he supposes that love has never been an easy thing.
At least it’s never been an easy thing for him.
Perhaps one day, fate will choose to be kinder to him.
“Not your usual scene?” You ask as you take beside Obito on the ground, “don’t come to parties much?”
Perhaps not.
You’re a pretty girl, though not really Obito’s type. He thinks that he’s seen you around school? That the two of you might share a class or two? He’s not really sure.
You’ve got your hair let loose and it frames it in a way that makes you look pretty. Your eyes seem pretty steady, which means you probably haven’t had much to drink (or smoke) and your movements are sharp. Your clothes are a little more reserved than what Obito usually sees girls wearing during parties like this and you have an intelligent demeanor that Obito rarely finds in others.
He laughs, deciding to entertain you in thanks for choosing to accompany him on this lonely evening, “my eighth actually.”
Your eyes gleam with interest, “oh?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So did I just catch you on an off night then, Mr. This is the Eight Party I’ve attended this year?”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m afraid this is how I usually am at parties.”
“Then why do you come?”
He shrugs in response.
“Well there are worse places you could be,” you lean back your hands behind you as you stare up at the sky, “and worse situations to be in.”
He hums in agreement.
Despite the fact that there’s a respectable distance between Obito and yourself he strangely feels warmer than he had before you were here. At first he thinks it’s because of the warmth from your own body but quickly changes his mind - thinking that it’s more likely that it’s because of the beer in his hand. Alcohol warms the body.
You’re probably warm too though. Probably have a warm smile that would make people’s hearts race too. Obito’s own heart might’ve even fluttered if he wasn’t already so hopelessly in love with someone else.
“So,” Obito begins, “what’re you doing here?”
“Here at the party?” You ask, “or here beside you?”
He shrugs, “both?”
“Well,” you begin, “I’m here at this party because one of my friends didn’t want to come alone and I wanted to have a good time.”
“Not your usual scene then?” Obito asked, the words slipping from his mouth before he can even realise that he’s saying them.
“I suppose not.”
“You suppose?”
“I like to spend all my weekends differently.”
“Not a fan of repetition, I see.”
You nod, “we’re young. Why waste our youth living a mundane life when there’s so much more in this world that we could be doing?”
“Very true.”
“Do you consider yourself a man of pattern, Mister?”
Is Obito a man of pattern? No. He doesn’t think so. He’s not the kind of person to keep on doing the same thing everyday but he supposes that there’s not actually much spontaneity in his life either. And with having to go to school it’s not as if his schedule is very open to doing random things whenever he sees fit.
Perhaps one day when he’s older?
But probably not.
“I think I am.” Obito said.
“Oh?” You lean towards him, your eyes still sparkling as they had done before, “and what makes you think that, Mister?”
“I’ve been stuck in the same place since I was young. Stuck in the same position.” He turns to look at you and smiles, “and it’s Obito. Not mister.”
“Well, Obito, that sounds like a shame but if that’s how you want to live your life then who am I to judge?”
Obito finds himself liking your personality. You’re not so easy going that it seems like you don’t care about anything nor are you so uptight that he feels like he’ll be judged for having his own way of doing things. It doesn’t feel like the forced politeness that he’s used to getting from other people either.
“Hey,” Obito frowns, “you didn’t tell me your name.”
You nod, “I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
Obito pouts in response which causes you to laugh. He thinks that you have a pretty laugh. The kind of laugh that lights up a room and gets other people to laugh with you. He also thinks that this is the first time that he’s made a pretty girl like you laugh. Well other than Rin and even then most of the time when Rin laughs it’s usually just a chuckle. Sure, you might be laughing at Obito’s expression rather than a joke he made but he’ll take what he can get.
“Names are quite important things, you know.” You say when you finally managed to have calmed down from your laughing.
“Hm?”
“Names give meaning to everything. A purpose. They’re curses and blessings upon the very essence of who a person is and will be.” You explain, “and, most importantly, they bind us to one another. Create a connection between strangers through a string of familiarity.”
“Well you’re awfully philosophical, aren’t you?”
“I like to consider it as being smart~”
Obito grins, “you’re weird.”
You shrug, “I’ll take it.”
Obito wonders if his life would have been different if he had met someone like you first? No, he takes that back. His life would not have been much different. You’re not the kinda girl that would notice a guy like him and you’re definitely not the kind of girl that settles for a simple kind of life that he wants to live. Among everyone in this world there are brilliant people that stand out above the rest. He imagines that you’re one of those people. That after finishing up school you’ll go on to be the kind of person that people write about rather than the kind that writes about others.
“You should try to have some fun tonight.” You suggest, leaning in towards him.
He leans down towards you in response, grinning playfully, “and how would you suggest I do that?”
“Well for one, drinking something better than this stale beer here would be a good place to start.”
“And where should I go after that?” He asks, his voice laced with a feeling of amusement. He thinks this is probably the most fun he’s had at a party without. And for once, he’s not hanging off of one his friend’s arms like the annoying person he feels like he always is. He wonders if it’s always been this easy to talk to people or if it’s just because he’s talking with someone like you.
Someone that can smile so easily.
Someone that he can joke around without fearing he’ll offend them.
Someone that doesn’t know about all the trauma he went through while he was young.
“Mm,” you hum softly, “maybe then you could go and confess to that girl that you’ve been in love with all this time.”
Obito blushes brightly, “w-what do you mean?”
Have you somehow noticed that he’s been in love with his female best friend all these years now? Was he that obvious about it? Did everyone know except for her? Gosh, this was more embarrassing than he thought it would’ve been. So much more embarrassing than he realised.
“Don’t worry,” you hum, “you’re not that obvious about it and I don’t know who she (or he) is. I guess you can say I’ve got an eye for that sort of thing for people.”
“Oh. I see.”
It’s so much more embarrassing than he realised, yet strangely relieving. Liberating almost.
You nudge his shoulder playfully with your own.
He nudges you back.
“You’ve buried your emotions,” you say suddenly, your eyes seemingly staring into his soul.
He swallows, hoping you don’t notice the change in his demenous, “what?”
At this point, he feels like there isn’t much that he can hide from you. Or maybe he’s never been good at hiding his feelings at all and you’re the only person ballsy enough to say it to his face. Either way it’s both refreshing and freighting all at once. You’re so different from Rin yet somehow so samilair in the same way.
He wonders what would happen if he were to brush your hair back behind your ear.
Would you smile in response? Would you pull away in disgust? Would you run away? Would you push him away and make sure to set a firm boundary between yourself and him like everyone else has done?
At the end, he decides to do nothing of the sort.
You reach into your pocket and pull out a necklace. It looks cheap, like something you could win in a claw machine. You hold the necklace out to him, “here.”
Hesitantly, he accepts the gift.
It looks to be a cheap locket of some sort.
“For me?” He asks.
“If you want it.”
“Will you take it back?”
“No.”
“Then what should I do with it?”
You smile playfully, “you’ll figure it out,” you give him a friendly pat on the back as you get up, “maybe I’ll see you around, Obito,” jumping off the front porch before making your way to the salmon haired boy that called you over earlier. His heart flutters in a strange kinda way as he watches you disappear off into the distance.
The salmon haired boy wraps an arm around you before the two of you begin walking off into the distance.
“Who was that, Obito?” Rin asks as she sits where you had been sitting moments ago.
Obito watches you disappear down the street laughing at something the salmon haired boy whispers into your ear, his stomach twisting into knots. He thinks that tonight is going to be something he remembers forever. That you’ll be someone he remembers forever - even if he doesn’t know your name. It’s been so long since he connected to someone like how he connected with you and he bets that it’s going to be a long while before he connects with someone again. Well, he thinks, at least he got to know you now.
Eventually, he answers, “just a girl I know from school.”
He stares at the cheap locket in his hand.
He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to speak to you again?
Probably not.
Fall in love when you’re happy.
---
Someone You Loved Featuring: The Journalist
Uchiha Obito wraps his jacket around himself tightly as he stares up at the night sky above him. Sure, it was summer but the season of autumn was quickly approaching and the nights were getting colder.
Usually Obito would never go outside, much less on a night like this, but a few of his friends that he hadn’t seen in a while had been insistent that they meet up. It was rare for the four of them to actually be in the same place around the same time and even rarer that they all had a moment to spare.
They had considered going to a bar but something like this seemed a little simpler.
A lot easier.
If only Obito remembered that he hated the cold.
Oh well.
It’s a simple sacrifice for him to make anyways.
“Oh yeah, no,” Obito shakes his head as he tunes back into the conversation that his friends were having, “I haven’t gotten the chance to go fishing this year yet. I’ve been pretty busy with work.” Obito tries his best to give an apologetic look as his friends listen to his explanation.
Truthfully speaking, Obito has never actually been a fan of fishing. Sure he was decent at the skill. Had been forced to go on plenty of trips with his grandfather when he was younger but he never really enjoyed the sport. He knew enough to hold his own in conversation but not much when compared to his two friends. He just hoped that neither of them would ever actually realise that he barely had an idea what he was talking about.
Tokito Muichiro, a shorter man with long dark hair, nods, “understandable. You can’t always make time for hobbies.” Muichiro is wearing a lot less than Obito in terms of clothing but seems less affected by the weather as he wears a blank look on his face.
Many had always called Muichiro expressionless and perhaps even emotionless but Obito thought the man made up for his lack of involvement with his blunt and direct speaking - which then was also made up for with his subtle way of expressing his affection. Small acts of service instead of large declarations of his feelings.
The exact kinda person that Obito found himself getting along with best.
Second only to the flustered yet charming behaviour of Diez Drake.
Drake was a tall ginger haired man with a bold and domineering presence on the outside. He was unsuspectingly lumbering though and easily embarrassed. Wore his heart on his sleeve and never hesitated to point out when he thought that something was wrong. Obito liked that he didn’t have to jump through hoops to understand what he was trying to say or how he felt, certain that he would simply be able to read it by what was on the man’s face.
Drake hums thoughtfully in response to Muichiro’s words, “do you enjoy what you do for work now? I heard you recently got promoted from writer to editor.” Drake, like Muichiro, seemed unaffected by the cold of the night air. Dressed in something simple that barely covers him up entirely. Obito chalks up his warmth to all that muscle he’s put on. It probably does well to keep in heat.
Obito nods, “yeah.” silently thankful that the conversation topic had shifted. He really could only bear so long talking about fishing before he finally gave away how much he didn’t care about the topic. It wasn’t exactly that he hated fishing and he certainly didn’t feel pressured to like it from either Drake or Muichiro it’s just that it had been so long since they had talked about fishing that it would be weird for him to suddenly declare that he didn’t like it.
Too far gone for him to turn back now.
It would be like ripping out one of the staples of their friendship.
“Is it easier?” Muichiro asked.
“Some parts,” Obito explains, “while I don’t have to put in as much work on the field and have to do as much work running around like a chicken with my head cut off, there's a lot more management of people that I have to do. Honestly, sometimes I miss writing articles.”
Drake chuckles, “at least you get to work from home.”
Obito smiles in response, “true.”
The three men share a smile. Obito had been worried that their conversations would feel awkward and stilted after a few years of only talking online but they immediately fell back into the warm camaraderie that they had before.
It was nice for Obito. To remember that he had a group of people that cared about him outside of all the pain and trauma he had to go through when he was younger. Felt good to know that he was still capable of making connections to people other than the ones he had grown up with from childhood.
“Are you happy?” You ask suddenly.
The three men turn to look at you.
You.
You’re dressed rather prettily today, Obito thinks. Though more often than not he thinks that you’re pretty. Whether your hair is done up or let down. Whether you’ve decided to wear something light and breezy or dark and warm. He thinks it must have something to do with those eyes. Those bright and brilliant eyes that seem to stare into his very soul itself. Or, more likely, it’s your magnetic personality that pulls people in without you having to do anything at all.
Obito bets that you’re cold. You’re not dressed as cool as Drake or Muichiro but you aren’t wearing a large trench coat like Obito. Your clothing is somewhere in between as you hold your arms and legs tight together.
“Are you happy with where you are in life?” You clarify.
You’d been quiet most of the conversation so it surprises Obito that you’ve finally decided to speak. Strangely, Obito can’t remember if you’ve always been a quiet person or a loud one. He obviously knows how you act around him -you’re friends- but strangely he can’t seem to remember just exactly how you are.
He supposes that you’ve always been that way though.
Keeping a certain kind of ambit between yourself and everyone else.
“Yeah,” Obito nods, “I’d say so.”
Your expression brightens at that as you softly reply, “that’s good.” You turn to Drake, “and are you happy?”
The ginger haired man nods, “yeah. I reckon I’m happy with where I am in life.”
“And how are you Muichiro?”
The quiet man smiles and his eyes soften, “good.”
Obito’s heart starts to beat quickly as he watches you warmly. No matter how many years it’s been he thinks that you’ll always have such an effect on him. You’re not the first girl he’s ever loved and doubts you’ll be the last but he likes to think that you were his favourite. The one he would have liked things to have worked out with the most. But he knows, perhaps better than most, that that was never the kind of life that you were meant to live. That you deserved, more than anyone else, to be free. That, perhaps, you were best loved from a distance.
Drake speaks up, a teasing lit to his voice, “you seem awfully happy to hear that he’s doing well.”
“Of course I’d be happy,” you smile fondly, in a way that Drake doesn’t remember you ever doing before, “who wouldn’t be happy when they hear that the people they care about are happy?”
In truth, Obito is surprised at your words. Sure, he obviously knows that you’ve always cared about them but to hear you make such a… bold declaration is almost dizzying. It makes his heart start to beat erratically and his stomach twists in knots. It feels almost foreign to hear you make such a declaration in the first place. Not wrong, per say, but something close to it. Like you’re speaking a tongue that isn’t your own.
Muichiro hums approvingly as he readjusts your jacket so it doesn't fall off your chair, “good point.”
“I do always tend to make good points, don’t I?” You say playfully.
Obito has to laugh in response.
Contrary to what everyone else might say, you usually do. It’s just that your more eccentric and childish personality makes it more fun to say that you don’t. Obito likes to think that you’ve always taken the teasing in stride. That you let the other three poke and prod at you because you know it makes them happy. And it’s not as if they ever actually mean it anyways.
“You know, speaking of work,” Obito begins, “I heard that you have another collection of photos that you’re releasing this year.”
Drake nudges you playfully, “and here I thought you said you were done with releasing multiple collections in a single year after you did ours.”
Obito finds himself surprised when you simply smile in response instead of laughin and making a stupid joke as you used to do.
“You can’t decide when inspiration hits.” Muichiro says, filling the silence.
You give your fellow artist a thankful look.
Obito is almost a little jealous.
Okay, that’s a lie. He is jealous. He’s very familiar with jealousy whether it comes from his unrequited first love or this strange thing he has with you.
It’s always been like that with you though. Stolen looks and softened eyes. A gentle way of saying someone’s name and a whisper in the night when you think that no one else can hear. It’s how it’s always been with Obito too. A choked down emotion because he’s scared that showing too much emotion will scare other people away. That it’ll make him someone who others don’t like. That it’ll leave him all alone the same way it had when he was younger.
It’s not healthy. Obito knows that. But it’s hard to change the way you are when you’ve lived like that for three decades. He’ll try to change, one day. But for now he allows his heart to do that strange pang thing as he looks aways and tries his best to think about something else.
“So, who’s your latest Muse?” Obito asked curiously.
“The Athlete.”
Muichiro raises a brow, “no name?”
“I gave you the name that matters.”
Drake rolls his eyes, but Obito spots the fond smile on his face, “importance is all a matter of perspective. It’s relative.”
“When did you become so introspective, Drake?” Obito teased.
Drake blushes, “hey! I’ve always been introspective. Just because I’m not some big hotshot journalist like you doesn’t mean I don’t have a few years of wisdom on me.”
“You sure?” Muichiro teased, joining in.
“Hey!”
Muichiro and Drake bicker playfully while Obito turns his attention back to you. You’re staring off into the distance rather than enjoying the playful banter.
“Are you happy?” Obito asks, “happy with where you are in life?”
“I lived a good life,” you say softly, lying down and reaching a hand up towards the stars, “I got to live such a carefree and open life. Got to do so many things that other people never get the chance to and in such a short amount of time. Most importantly though, I got to meet so many special people.”
Obito blushes.
At the moment, he’s much too enamoured with your words to actually realise what you're saying. And when he eventually does realise it, it’s too late for him to question you about it. And even after that moment, when he’s long past the moment of being able to make a change, does he finally come to understand what it is that you might’ve meant.
And he both hates and loves that about you.
Like Drake, you wear your heart on your sleeve. Your face, giving away more than your words ever will. And like Muichiro, you’re blunt. Not afraid to speak your mind. But, there, you’re also a little like him. Never reveal all of what someone else wants you to. Scared.
Obito watches you curiously, as you pull out a silver compact from your pocket. It’s the same one that you’ve always carried around, he thinks. It kind of matches that silver locket you gave to him so many years ago. You hold it close to your chest the same way someone might hold a secret from the world. You close your eyes before looking up to the stars once again.
“Would you do it again differently if you had the chance?” Obito asked as he took a seat beside you, similar to how you had done all those years before; back when he was but a love sick boy and you an artistic genius waiting to be realised by the world.
“Oh, most definitely.”
Drake raises a brow, clearly surprised by your answer, as he takes a seat on your other side, “really?”
“Yes.”
Muichiro laughs softly, taking a seat in front of you, “what would you do differently?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’d want everything that I didn’t have in this life. Every choice we make requires sacrifice. Giving up one thing in order to obtain another. And even when we choose nothing we still lose something. So I’d want everything that I gave up in this life in another.”
“You know,” Obito pokes your side playfully, “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.”
You grin playfully, “who wants to live the same life over?”
“Plenty of people, I imagine.” Obito replied.
“Hm,” you hum softly to yourself as your eyes scan over the faces of the three men that had been your friends for nearly half a decade now, “perhaps my answer would be different if I had loved everyone else the way I should have rather than the way I wanted to.”
Fall in love when you’re confused.
---
Orange Dreams
Sometimes, dreams are unfinished thoughts that our subconscious attempts to complete.
And other times, they’re the parts of us we had to leave behind. Incomplete and unfulfilled.
---
“Yeah, just follow my lead, okay?” You smile softly as you hold your hand out to Uchiha Obito.
Obito stares at you for a moment before finally, hesitantly, taking your hand.
He swallows deeply.
You’ve pushed your furniture to the side. The couches directly up against one wall and the dining table to the other. To top it off you’ve put the chairs on the dining table itself like how students stack their chairs in elementary school to make more space in your small apartment so that you can teach Obito how to dance.
A familiar song plays in the background of your apartment. It’s a little on the slower side of things and sounds awfully familiar to Obito, despite him being unable to name the melody.
It’s more melancholy than it is upbeat, though Obito accuses that that’s how most songs meant for slow dancing are played.
“Are you sure?” He asks once again as you place your hand on his waist.
“Trust me,” you smile playfully, “this definitely isn’t the first time I’ve taught someone how to dance and most certainly isn’t the first time I’ve danced before.”
“But what if I step on your toes?”
You laugh softly, “trust me, I’ll be okay.”
He swallows, “alright. If you say so. Just don’t get mad if I end up stomping on your feet accidently.”
You smile fondly, “only for you~”
He takes your other hand as you begin to lead him in a series of steps that Obito thinks make up the dance. At least once a year Obito’s family holds a big banquet of sorts. Usually about commemorating how great they are or at least something along those lines. It’s usually a pointless venture that Obito always goes out of his way to avoid - which he unfortunately was unable to find a way out of this year.
His grandfather, who had always paid special attention to Obito, had made it a point to make sure that Obito would be forced to attend. Something about making sure that all the money he had put into Obito’s education wasn’t going to waste and another thing about commemorating his big promotion.
Obito believed neither, though definitely leaned more towards the former of the two statements.
But regardless of how he felt, this was going to end up being one of the family events that he wouldn’t be able to avoid no matter what corner of the earth he fled to. Without a doubt, his elderly grandfather would find out where he was and drag him by the ear as if he were a little kid.
Which is how Obito found himself here, in your small studio apartment attempting to learn the proper way to waltz. Truthfully, Obito had no intentions to dance. His grandfather could force him to be there but he most certainly couldn’t force Obito to dance. It was just that when you heard about the dance and subsequently Obito’s inability to dance you had volunteered to teach him. And you had looked so excited that Obito couldn’t find it in himself to turn your offer down.
“How do you know when to move and when to stop?” Obito asks.
“You just sorta have to go with the beat of the music,” you explain, “every song has a flow. You just have to tap into that flow, you know?”
Obito nods.
You look up at him before raising a brow, “you don’t get it, do you?”
“I don’t.” Obito admits.
You laugh softly, “here, let me help you. This song has a four by four beat. The melody usually gives a few hints for the beat too. First look for a repetitive part of the melody and then that’s where you can begin your count.”
You pull him towards you as you begin to move once again.
“One, and two, and three, and four,” you say, taking a step with each number you count, “one, and two, and three, and four.”
Obito lets you drag him around the room in what feels like a sporadic fashion as you continue to count the beats of the song.
He finds a smile creeping on his face as he watches you attempt to teach him how to dance. He thinks you look absolutely adorable with your face scrunched up as you try your best to keep up with the beats of the music. Despite never dancing a single day in his life Obito can tell that you aren’t too good at dancing like this either. That you’re mostly flying by the seat of your pants in an attempt to help him which only serves to fuel his smile that he’s been trying his best to hold back.
You stop counting while continuing to lead Obito in the steps of the dance.
The music feels so much louder than it had before the two of you had first begun dancing. Reminds Obito of a dream that he had one day but can’t quite remember anymore. Reminiscent of that memory he keeps reaching out for in the breeches of his mind but can never quite grasp. A memory of a dream that slips from your mind in the morning.
It’s more of a nostalgic feeling than anything else.
Reminds him of a childhood he doesn’t remember having.
A girl’s smile.
His hand in yours.
The beating of a heart.
Slowly, you let Obito try and take control. The repetitive movements are easy for him to replicate. Simple and almost second nature to him at this moment. Though, Obito has always found it easier to learn things that involve physical movement over things that require more of a mental prowess.
He thinks that this is honestly probably enough for him to know the basics if he is forced to take to the dance floor. Thinks that maybe he might invite one of the now married girls he attended classes with back when they were young in order to show that he’s being polite but not interested in getting married yet. Rin, his childhood friend, would be the ideal partner. Not only would she understand his lack of skill in dance but she would also understand that there would no longer be any romantic implications when it came to him.
If there was anyone that he would have wanted to dance at during that banquet (made only to inflate over bloated egos) it would have been you. You make this strange process for him feel almost fun. Exciting. Keeping it simple yet still leaving him second guess what might come next; though that might just be because you’re a little clumsy.
Obito had considered asking you to attend with him but ultimately ended up not asking you at all. That wasn’t the kind of world he wanted to drag you into. Not the kind of people he thought you should know. Besides, in all truth, Obito really just didn’t want other people to get the chance to look at you the way he did. Wanted to keep you to himself, if just for a little while longer.
Eventually, the song playing ends and the track switches to something much more upbeat and modern. It’s almost, Obito dares to say, vulgar. It’s a stark constant in both genre and tempo to what had been playing before that Obito has to cover his mouth lest break out into a bout of laughter and giggles.
Okay, he still laughs a little. But it’s hard not to when your cheeks are hot with embarrassment and you’re scrambling to switch the song to something more tame.
Obito’s never been one to judge someone else’s taste in music but he can’t help but find amusement from yours. The contrast between the song and the person you like to display is so stark that Obito would have believed you that it was autoplayed if not for the fact that you had jumped up so quickly to change the song as if you already knew the contents of it.
Who would have thought that someone as sweet as you would like a song like that~
He can’t help himself as he walks over to you and rests his head on your shoulder from behind, “so you like whips and chains or are you just experimenting?”
“Hm?”
“Because I would totally be down.”
“Obito!” You exclaim, attempting to turn around.
He holds you down with his weight, his arms keeping you from escaping his grasp. He smiles coyly, “(Y/n).”
“You’re such a tease.” You grumbled.
“Am I?” He asked, his voice laced with amusement.
“In every sense of the word.”
“Really? Because I’ve always considered it to be more the other way around.” He chuckles deeply, “how does it feel now that the shoes’ on the other foot?”
You grumble in response, “you’re mean.”
“Only for you~”
You roll your eyes, recognizing your own words.
Your response brings a smile to Obito’s face.
You really are such a pretty girl, he thinks. Perhaps not the kind of girl he would’ve noticed immediately but most certainly the kind of girl that he can’t look away from. He finds almost everything about you cute, from your reactions to his teasing to the way you say his name. Slightly accented giving away to the fact that you’re not originally from the same place that he is.
Obito had never cared much to make friends with other people when he was young. Most of the other kids had teased him because of his initial clumsy and embarrassed nature and then had switched over to ignoring him after the accident.
The only two that hadn’t ever really ignored him were his two friends and even they had only originally tried to get along with him because they were in the same group. Their school would group the children in groups of three for all different group projects in hopes of teaching proper camaraderie and teamwork amongst one another. It would hopefully foster good relationships between the different clans and encourage them to look for relationships outside of their comfort zone.
Personally, Obito didn’t think it fostered much friendship between people outside of their designated groups but he never cared enough to make a comment about it. Their school was kind of already set in their ways. And besides, it was what brought him his two best friends in what likely would have been a lonely childhood.
And then there was you.
The girl that had approached him first and made talking with him seem so easy. And then you brought a small group of friends into his life, saying something about how all of them could relate over having complicated childhoods. Not that you ever divulged any of the specific information about the other two but Obito knew that if they wanted him to know they would tell him on their own.
It just… kind of felt nice knowing that there were other people that could understand what he was going through and not judge him for it.
“So uh,” you clear your throat, “do you think that you could lead the dance on your own?”
“Yeah,” Obito nods, “wanna try?”
He finally allows you to slop from his grasp but still keeps you within reach as he has his arms to either side of you as he leans against the edge of the dining room table that you’ve pushed to the corner of the room.
“Yes,” you nod, your cheeks flushed, “we could try.”
Gently, Obito takes your hand in his own and wraps the other around your waist as he leads you to the middle of the room.
“Wait, Obito! I haven’t put the music on!”
He chuckles, not letting you out of his grasp, “then sing for me.”
You roll your eyes but smile fondly, “you’ll be the death of me.”
“Don’t worry,” he smiles in response, “you’ll be fine. You have me with you.”
“Oh?” You raise a brow as you allow him to lead you in the dance, “and will you save me from all these horrible jokes you keep making?”
“No promises.”
You laugh softly, “what a horrible answer!”
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow playfully, “and here I was thinking that girls liked honest guys. Was I mistaken? Misinformed? Mislead?”
“Any more synonyms in that brain of yours?”
He grins, “misguided. Deluded. Deceived. Lead astray. Hoodwinked. Lied to. Fooled.”
“Well, aren’t you smart.”
“Only for you~”
You smack his shoulder lightly, “how long are you going to keep repeating that?”
“For as long as I want.”
“Well then, I’ll hold you to it.” You exclaim playfully, “the next time you say them to a pretty girl you better remember to quote me. You’re basically stealing my intellectual property, you know.”
The next girl.
Obito’s heart pangs heavily.
Though, he supposes he should have already seen this coming from the beginning.
You never were the kind of girl that settled down were you.
