For the longest time Yu has been a loner, after he is not exactly extrovert nor really good with talking to other people, not that he even cares, as long as he can keep playing videogames and doing his duty in the council for him is fine. Although, the unexpected happened and he has able to met you, someone who not only understood him but was quite like him, someone to who rant about whatever he was getting himself into and play videogames with, and from that point you two have been taking slow steps closer, after all both were quite introvert
As you were growing closer you two were getting more and more comfortable, and, in all honestly, Yu underestimated the feelings that were growing in him for you because you are just like him, he just assumed he would never see you more than a friend but as he started to realice his feeling, as he started to realice that this wish to be with you was more than platonic he knew he had to do more, he just couldn't expect that things would change if he didn't, so he gathered all the courage he had within him and decided to do more, stopped to take a deep breath after school and, this time, instead of just saying bye like always he decided to try something else, perhaps you two could walk together home or just go somewhere to keep talking, to spend a bit more time together
I just read your ryusui and senku attending reader's funeral in the suit they married them in and I couldn't help not tearing up 😭 could you please write of maybe how reader died and how was life goin on before their death
Ishigami Senku
Senku always believed everything in the world had a cause.
Every reaction had a trigger.
Every problem had a solution.
So when the doctor told him you were gone, his mind refused to accept it.
There had to be a mistake. A variable miscalculated. A pulse they hadn’t checked correctly.
He stood in the hospital hallway with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor tiles as if focusing hard enough could reassemble reality into something that made sense.
You had called him less than an hour before.
Telling him he worked too much.
Teasing him about the spicy ramen he always asked for.
Promising you would be home soon.
Senku had replied like he always did, distracted but smiling.
Then the phone rang again.
This time it was not you.
A drunk driver had run a red light.
Your car had been hit head on.
You died before the ambulance arrived.
It was so simple.
So unfairly random.
For days after the funeral, Senku kept expecting to hear your footsteps in the apartment. He kept reaching for his phone to text you about some new idea, some ridiculous experiment, some thought only you ever humored.
Your things were everywhere.
The hoodie you always stole from him hung on the back of the chair.
Your toothbrush was still next to his.
Your favorite mug sat untouched in the sink.
It felt like you had just gone out.
Like if he waited long enough, you would come back.
So he worked.
He buried himself in research and notes and half finished inventions, telling himself that productivity was logical. That stopping would accomplish nothing.
But logic did not stop the ache in his chest.
Sometimes he would turn in his chair to make a sarcastic comment, already forming the words, then remember there was no one there.
The silence that followed was louder than anything.
One night, exhaustion finally caught up to him. He slid down against the counter in the lab, staring at his shaking hands.
“This doesn’t add up,” he muttered weakly.
You were not supposed to be gone.
He could calculate rocket trajectories. He could map out the future of science. He could solve impossible problems.
But this had no formula.
“If I had left earlier…” he whispered.
If he had picked you up instead of letting you drive.
If he had not stayed late again.
If he had treated time like the precious resource it was.
A shaky breath escaped him.
“I’m supposed to be the smart one.”
Tears blurred his vision, frustration mixing with grief.
“I could change the world, but I couldn’t protect you.”
It was the first time he let himself cry.
Healing was not dramatic.
It came in small, painful steps.
The first time he finally washed your mug.
The first time he cooked ramen and smiled faintly when it came out too spicy.
The first time he sat on the rooftop where you liked watching sunsets and talked out loud, not caring if anyone heard.
“You would be yelling at me to stop moping,” he said quietly one evening.
A soft breeze brushed past him.
He closed his eyes.
“I’m going to keep living,” he murmured. “Not because it doesn’t hurt. But because you would want me to.”
Senku still missed you every day.
That never went away.
But slowly, he learned that loving you did not end with your death.
You became part of everything he did.
His motivation.
His strength.
His reason to keep moving forward.
“Ten billion percent,” he whispered with a small, sad smile.
“I will live enough for both of us.”
Ryusui Nanami
Ryusui always lived loudly.
Life was meant to be exciting, fast, overflowing with ambition. And you were the one person who kept him grounded when he flew too close to the sun.
Which made losing you feel like the world had gone quiet.
The last day he saw you, you had argued.
Not a screaming fight, just the kind that came from frustration and hurt.
“You’re never home anymore,” you said, eyes tired.
“I’m working for our future,” Ryusui replied, arms crossed.
“I don’t want some huge future if I don’t get you now.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Just give me some time.”
You looked at him like he was slipping away.
“Fine. We will talk later.”
You left.
And he did not follow.
It was the biggest mistake of his life.
You were crossing the street near your apartment when a motorcycle sped through the intersection.
The driver lost control.
There was nothing anyone could do.
Ryusui was in the middle of a meeting when his phone kept buzzing.
Annoyed, he finally answered.
By the time he arrived at the hospital, the world felt unreal.
He laughed when they told him.
Not because it was funny.
Because his mind refused to believe it.
“You’re joking,” he said. “Where is she?”
No one answered.
When the truth finally sank in, his knees hit the floor.
The man who always stood tall suddenly could not hold himself up.
At your funeral, Ryusui did not cry.
He did not smile.
He just stared at your coffin, hearing your last words on repeat.
We will talk later.
Later never came.
After that, everything lost its shine.
The cars he loved felt empty.
The deals he once chased meant nothing.
The world he had wanted to conquer suddenly felt too big without you in it.
Your side of the bed stayed untouched.
He caught himself reaching for you in his sleep.
Your laugh echoed in rooms that felt colder than before.
One night, alone in the apartment, he finally broke.
He sank onto the couch, clutching your jacket to his chest.
“I should have run after you,” he whispered hoarsely.
Tears soaked into the fabric.
“I should have said I was sorry. I should have told you I loved you.”
His voice cracked.
“You always waited for me, and I didn’t wait for you.”
The guilt wrapped around his heart tighter than grief ever could.
Slowly, Ryusui began to change.
Not because the pain faded.
But because he knew you would hate seeing him give up.
He stopped driving recklessly.
Started walking instead, letting himself think.
He visited your grave often, talking to you like you were just away on a trip.
“I’m trying to live better,” he said softly one afternoon. “For you.”
He volunteered at the shelter you loved, even though it broke his heart every time.
He cooked your favorite meals and left an empty chair across from him.
Some nights he laughed at old memories.
Some nights he cried.
Both felt necessary.
“You were my greatest treasure,” he whispered once, staring up at the sky.
“And you always will be.”
Life would never be the same.
But Ryusui learned that loving you meant carrying you forward into every dream, every adventure, every breath.
If he is being sincere, even just getting to get to be so close to you and call you his friend has been quite a surprise, he never thought he would grow to have a friendship like yours, one where he has so much fun, where he is completely underestood because you are just like him, where he can share what he likes because you do the same and where both can tease and joke around while still care for each other
But, at the same time, it is that same feeling of being so free in the friendship, so understood, that leaded him to not notice when his feelings started to become something more, when he started to linger slighly closer and his eyes followed you more, when he started joking and teasing you a bit more just to heard you talk. But it isn't like you can blame him, he has been in love before, yes, but never like this, he have never felt this way for someone he was so comfortable with, with someone who accepted him so openly and even liked him at least to some extent, and those feeling may intimidate him but not enough to don't try to confess once he feels ready
