I’m in some mood for some melancholic longing, can I request “you never called it what it was” + rengoku + childhood best friends that liked each other but didnt end up together, maybe because of life, jobs, dreams etc 🥺💔
kyojuro rengoku x you never called it what it was
This is your nightmare, honestly.
Palms are already sweating as you eye the drink you ordered a few minutes ago being placed in front of you, it’s staring right back with a neon sign on top of it. The sign literally reads girl, you thought.
“Uhm, excuse me” you clear your throat as the barista who took your oder turns around with a frown. He’s probably having a bad day too but you’re on the verge of tears and a poorly made tea order is going to be the last straw.
“I ordered a chai tea latte with vanilla sweet cream cold foam?”
“That’s what it is”
“Ah… I mean, that’s a lot of cold foam” half of it is cold foam “could you please remake it? I’m so sorry to be a bother” you attempt a smile but his frown deepens.
“It’s the standard way to do it” he grumbles and quite literally snatches the drink from your uncertain hand, then proceeds to scoop out half of the cold foam and replace it with dairy milk. What you’re left with is a tall latte in a venti cup, with a random splash of milk you can’t even drink.
Fuck.
“Sorry, I’m allergic to dairy, could you please just—”
“I don’t have the time” he snaps and you wince “d’you think you’re the only customer here today? Take a look at that line, would you?”
Before he’s even finished with his little outburst, people are looking at you and tears are already pricking your eyes, stinging so painfully you just know blinking a few times to send them back won’t do the trick.
“What seems to be the problem, Kazuki?” a gentle but slightly high-pitched voice from behind you has you jumping. Not because it’s unexpected but because it’s familiar. You’d recognize that inflection anywhere.
Kazuki’s face lights up instantly, a pinkish tone crawling up to his cheeks. Is he embarrassed?
“Ah, Mr. Rengoku, good morning! This lady was just trying to—”
“Now, I don’t think that’s a polite way to speak to a customer” he interrupts him and you sense the tension stirring behind what’s most certainly a friendly smile. God, he hasn’t changed one bit.
When you sheepishly turn around his eyes widen and, for a second, your lungs cease to expand in your chest cavity. Of course he hadn’t recognized you. Of course he’s still kind enough to step in to defend a complete stranger.
An incredulous smile splits his handsome face, eyes glimmering with genuine excitement as he whispers your name.
“Hello, Kyojuro” you mirror his smile and add a pathetic little wave to it. He frowns and you hate to know why.
How can he still hate it, when you call him by his full name? You’re adults now. Adults who haven’t seen each other in years.
“I can’t believe this, I have looked everywhere for you!” despite the slight disappointment, he explodes in a boisterous laugh and, once more, everyone’s looking in your direction. Except this time you don’t mind, you don’t mind at all.
“Tell you what! Kazuki will remake your order, I’ll take the usual” he glances at the barista “and then I can walk you wherever you have to go. Or we could enjoy our drinks here? Whatever you want, just don’t slip away again” the warmth he’s unleashing on you has your head spinning, heart swelling with feelings you thought were long forgotten.
He’s right, you did slip away. Intentionally moved to another city, changed your number, left little to no trace behind, no address information. You thought leaving him, being cruel enough to cut him off without an explanation, would make it easier.
His attempts still reached you somehow. Your mom mentioning his calls, your friends running into him on the way home from work.
He asked about you.
He wonders if we have your new number.
He looked sad.
Why don’t you call him?
But you never did, you never could.
It was the right thing to do, if the staccato of your heartbeat is an indicator as you walk side by side in your favorite park, the one you used to come to when you were twelve and he insisted you rated all his cartwheels. The one with the old, chipped bench you waited on when you were fifteen and drunk, on your way back from a party filled with people you didn’t like. He showed up in the middle of the night and gave you a piggyback ride, silly giggles muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt.
Perhaps you were just too different. He always loved the big, chaotic town you ached to leave. Life of the party, popular, impeccable at school, great at sports.
He never had too much time to actually care about all those moments, the innocent touches, the casual hold of a hand whenever you’d take a stroll, the three times he had kissed you. They still burn in the back of your mind.
Eleven years old, as a dare. Twelve years old, to distract you from the pain of a scraped knee. Sixteen years old, the one time you saw him indulge in a beer.
“Why did you disappear?” the question is void of bitterness, it’s gentle, even. Kyojuro is not stupid, he knows it was deliberate, he’s aware you didn’t cut ties with anyone else.
“Always hated Tokyo” you shrug, casually stirring the ice in your drink.
“But you left me, too” he insists “you were special to me. I guess I hoped…” the implications of what he’s not saying are too dangerous for you to bear.
“Don’t be ridiculous” you mumble “of course you were”
He stops in his tracks.
“So why…”
“Did you ever ask me to stay, Kyo?” your gaze meets his “you never said anything. You didn’t… you never called it what it was”
In Shetland they have a Viking festival called up helly Aa where squads of different Viking groups go around the various halls on the islands and entertain the people there. They also burn a boat
🐸 - describe your aesthetic
I sadly do not have one. At all. I tried. I truly did but it did not come to fruition so lm going to say sad goblin and let that Conjure up whatever you want
