Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x GN!Reader
Synopsis: He left as a hero, and he returned cold and heartless. What adventures have made him like this? Would you still love him?
Themes: angst, post-WC! Kunigami, set during Blue Lock's two-week break after their win against JP U-20 (chapters 150 - 153), reader is hopeful, Kunigami lost all humanity, established relationship, if you squint a little it's kinda like Epic's OdyPen lmao
Author's Note: Epic The Ithaca Saga is ruining my brain chemistry. A mutual and fellow writer already created something like this but I wanna put my own twist on this hehe!
@thebestsetter ✨
Kunigami Rensuke was a hero before he became yours.
He always believed in goodness, helping everyone else, and acting like a big brother to those who needed his guidance. It's no wonder his morals bleed through his play on the field. To win each game fair and square while he showcases his skills. Watching how he turned into a knight in shining armor every time he stepped onto the field, defending his team from the enemy and scoring his goals was mesmerizing.
So, when he was invited to the Blue Lock Program, you weren't so surprised.
"How long will you be there?" you asked him once while you were on his bed, watching him go back and forth around his room, packing a small duffle bag of the things he might need in the facility. "That's something I can't answer right now, love," he replied, "it's something they never clarified in the letter. But let's say 2 or 3 months, give or take."
"Take care of yourself in there, okay? Show them the hero that you are," you reminded him, smiling up softly as he zipped the bag close. He was ready. Ready to face a new adventure, new challenges, and new foes and allies. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. "I will. Then when this is all over, I'm coming home to you with stories from my training."
"You're not leaving me behind, are you?" you teased, reaching for his hand. On his ring finger was a promise ring, the same one you wore. A symbol of his love for you and his promise to marry you. Your fingers gingerly held on to his ring, feeling the rough metal against your skin. "I will never. I'll always take you with me, remember? I'll be back before you know it."
3 days later, he left with a kiss, a promise, and a vision of him taking over the world with his aspirations.
A few weeks in, you received a call from him, happy and excited to talk to you. He told you about the things he's learned, the friends he's gained, and the foes he's made. He spoke about an Isagi, a Chigiri, and a Bachira, and how these people made him feel stronger with how they all blended on the field. You were proud to hear him grow and find friends.
"How did you get your phone anyway? I thought the letter said phones aren't allowed?" You asked him.
"We were given a star system where goals are exchanged for points that we can use for different privileges," Kunigami explained, "I exchanged my first goal for steak, and shared that with Isagi. Now, I exchanged two of my goals for my phone so I can talk to you."
Always so considerate. Your hero never changed despite the changes he's experienced in Blue Lock. With every point he earned, he'd always exchange it for phone time to call you and tell you about his adventures.
Suddenly, the calls stopped.
You're sure Kunigami wasn't the type to never make a goal. Was he getting into harder challenges in there? No matter how hard it was, you knew your hero would never back down.
Right?
It worried you. You kept looking at your phone, waiting for a call. You kept replaying your conversation weeks ago about a possible second selection and how it would play out, and you worried it was even more challenging than the team matches. Would he get out of it alive? Triumphant? Of course! Since when did you start doubting your hero?
You began to twist your ring, anxious about Kunigami as the days went by, each one feeling longer than the last. It's making you sick. He was never the type to just disappear without saying anything.
The announcement of an exhibition game with Japan U-20 made you feel hopeful again. Knowing your hero, he would be part of the starting 11. You saved enough for the tickets for you and your sibling to watch him play live. You were excited about what skill he gained in Blue Lock, and if he improved to be the best version of himself.
But why wasn't he there?
You know Isagi was there... Chigiri... Bachira... but where was he? Where's your hero?
The win was a blur. How can you even cheer for his team when he isn't there? It's impossible that he's benched too. Kunigami was never the type to warm the bench for the whole game. You wanted to ask Isagi... Maybe Chigiri because Kunigami has talked about him the most. Bachira might know too. But it's impossible to reach them, especially with how they disappeared into the building after the game.
"Where are you?" you whispered into the empty stadium.
Maybe it's time to let go. No. Kunigami made it clear that you would never let go. You'll wait for him to call. You'll wait for him to send you some kind of sign. Anything. Letting go is never the answer, he would say if he's beside you. So, with every passing day after the match, you never went anywhere without your phone, hoping soon he'd call.
How cruel must fate be that the only time you let your guard down was on the day he decided to show up?
Your mother opened the door for him, a gasp leaving her lips. She led him to your door and left him to talk to you. From the outside, Kunigami tensed as he wrapped his large hand around your doorknob, hearing your voice spilling out as he opened it slowly. And for a moment, Kunigami would like to believe nothing has changed. For a moment, all he could see was the light he held on to.
There you were, sitting on your desk as you studied with headphones on, singing one of the songs from the playlist he created for both of you to listen to. Clearly, in your little world, you didn't hear Kunigami enter and close your door behind him. Kunigami sighed, and then he opened his lips to say your name.
Oh, it felt like a lifetime since he spoke your name. Kunigami felt a piece of him remembering what it was like to say your name the first time he met you.
"Y/n."
No answer.
"Y/n," he said once more, a little louder. He saw you perk up a little.
You don't know if you're just imagining things or if Kunigami's voice sounded nearer than how you'd usually imagine it on the days you missed him. And then...
"Y/n."
You removed your headphones, standing up so quickly that your chair toppled over and fell to the floor with a thud. In front of you right now was your hero, the man you waited to return. You held your breath for a moment as you took a good look at him. He looks... he looks...
Tired. His build was bigger, but he looked tired. His hair was a thick mop of messy orange, his eyes...
"Rensuke?" You spoke with caution, "Is it you?"
Kunigami felt like he could fall to his knees the moment you spoke. But he wouldn’t allow himself to do so. You stepped away from your desk to walk to him, holding out your hands to touch him, that this wasn't a dream. He was cold, his cheeks, at least.
That was enough to break you. You embraced him, crying and grateful that your hero had returned. "You're back," you sobbed softly, "my Rensuke, you're back to me." You felt him lift his hands, but instead of embracing you, he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him. "Y/n," he spoke, his voice ragged but soft, "I'm not entirely back."
"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your teary eyes, wide and confused, looking up to meet his dull orange eyes. This was the first time you've seen him so lifeless. What the hell happened?
"I'm not the Rensuke you once knew. That version of me is gone."
"What?"
"I'm not the hero I promised you to be."
"What... I-I don't understand. What happened, my love?"
Rensuke looked at you with a slight hint of vulnerability. He must not show weakness. It was drilled into him that he'll be ruthless, he'll become irrational if it means becoming the best that the world will see. But with the sight of you, it felt impossible. "They... changed me. I'm not the hero we both envisioned to be. I... I had to become cruel and let go of my beliefs... The Rensuke you fell for because he believed in doing the right thing fair and square is dead.
"That's why I decided you can no longer love me, Y/n. Because I can't."
You're not hearing this, right? Yet, he sounded so sure. His voice was firm, the same one he would use on his teammates.
"Who are you to decide that?" you asked calmly, reaching for his hand again. Your gaze lowered to his hand, callused and tired, yet the ring was still there. A little worn out than the last time you saw it, but he's still wearing it. Your fingers worked on twisting the ring off his finger, causing him to tense up.
"What are you doing?" he asked, a hint of panic in his voice. You looked up at him with determined eyes. "You once told me when you got these rings for us that if we no longer love the other, we should remove our rings.
"I'm removing yours for you, Ren."
The ring was almost off his finger when he suddenly closed his hand. You looked up at him, and there he was, the Rensuke you fell in love with. "Don't, please..."
"But you said you can no longer love me," you reasoned, still holding his hand. Rensuke stared at you, his walls slowly breaking down at the reality of what he just told you. A stupid, stupid decision because he can't stop loving you.
The whole time he was in the Wildcard Project, the only thing that made him hold on to the little humanity he had in him was the promise of forever in your arms when he returned. The ring on his finger comforted him on nights when he almost gave up because his dream of becoming the best came from you. He promised he'd bring you with him and that he'd come back to you. So, he persevered and came out triumphant... but at what cost?
"How could you even love a cold-hearted man, my love?" he asked, his voice now a mere whisper, slightly cracking, "I have nothing left in me but the drive to win. I am no longer the warm man you want to be with for the rest of my life. I did all I could inside that facility for us to reach our dream, but they drained me. How can you still love me if I have nothing to give you any more?"
"I would still love you because no matter what, you're mine. You're my Rensuke, the man who made me believe that love as pure as yours exists in this world," you replied, "I don't care how much you've lost in there. As long as you return in my arms, I know a part of you that loves me and believes in us is still in there. I know you're still in there, Ren."
And with that, Rensuke broke down in tears in your arms. The place he had always longed for in the days he felt so alone. The warmth that he always yearned for in the coldest and loneliest nights. He's home. He's here.
"If you didn't care about me, you should've removed your ring a long time ago," you added, "but the symbol of your love for me is still there. A little worn, but I know you still have love for me.
"I've waited for you to return. This is all that matters now."
"I love you," Rensuke said between his tired sobs, his orange eyes sparkling with a little bit of life. He's still in there, the hero you loved is still in there.
Today was the day that you were finally going to meet Kunigami after not seeing him in what felt like decades. You were a small local café sitting down waiting for him, you already had a cup of tea but he would be here soon, right???. You were excited about meeting him. All you wanted to do was go up a hug him to death and give him millions of kisses all over his face. But even with all that excitement, you knew that kunigami would be different, he's text messages have been so dry, like there was a drone texting you and when you'd watch his newer matches he looked so tired, so drained, like he was more of a soccer drone the an actual human being. When he saw you, would he want to break up with you??? Would he even show up???
You can fondly remember the last day before he went to blue lock he took you out on beach date, and you can remember him kissing you at sunset, promising you that he would text you everyday, call you everyday and when he'd would come back to smother you in kisses and hug you to death, but now your not sure he'd even come to the café at all!!!
You continued to overthink when you suddenly felt a strong hand on your shoulder. "Y/N." Kunigami says he voice sounding emotionless and cold. Without another word, he sat down across from you. god, he looked so tired, so dead looking.
"Oh, Rensuke, ah— how are you???" You say, smiling at him, trying to mask your nervousness. Fuck, you couldn't lie but you felt a bit intimated by him, he was so closed off, you just which you knew what happened so you could help him!!!
"Fine." He responds, he sounds like he couldn't care less about this conversation or this 'date' if you could even call it that at this point. He was not making it easy to keep the conversation going.
"And how's your sisters???" You ask, hoping he would make it more akward than it already was. Thinking about it, know he didn't even hug you, fuck now you were overthinking even more.
"There good." He answers, not any hint of interest in his voice. "That's good!!" You respond, trying to be as nice as possible. You started to pour yourself some tea, trying your best not to worry, its gonna be fineeee.
"Y/N. I'm here cause I want to be clear with you." Kunigami starts speaking, his eyes boring into yours. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted disappear, run away, you wanted to be anywhere but here. "I've thought about it, and we should break up. You're distracting me from my football, and I can't let that happen. I hope you understand." He says blanked face, still staring at you. You could feel yourself frowning, your eyes darting around the place, you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, you let out a measly "What??" You looked down at the table, staring at the cup of tea, trying not to start sob. You began wiping your tears, feeling like your heart has been trampled on. What a piece of shit.
"I have to go Y/N." Kunigami says, getting up. You had a gut feeling it was going to happen, but God did it hurt. "Rensuke— please, please don't leave me— I love you, —i need you, please." You plead, sobbing quietly, your breathing becoming slightly erratic. You knew it sounded pathetic and needy, but you'd do anything to keep this relationship going.
"Sorry." Kunigami murmurs and turns around quickly. "And don't keep chasing for me, I won't take up back." He stopped for a second and then began to walk away, not saying another word. He didn't even turn around and face you, didn't have to balls to make eye contact why you were pleading with him, your mascara running down your face. This Kunigami was a complete stranger to you, who even was he???
(sorry, I haven't posted for like 4 days. i have such a bad toothache that I've been crying 🤕🤕🤕)
was just thinkin of how ren changed sm in bllk after wildcard and wanted to compare it to irl au so here it is 🙌
interactions appreciated <3
kunigami's the type of guy that one day suddenly deletes all of his posts on Instagram. posts with his sisters, posts with cats and dogs and coffees and lunches and friends.
the type of guy who only starts posting stories now, mirror selfies in the gym or just post workout pictures of his back facing the camera.
the type of guy who suddenly after being "too friendly to date" became the number one hottie in his college.
girls that used his nice personality to get closer to his friends whilst ignoring his feelings completely, are now regretting it all, because they had the chance to get a piece of the guy everyone's thirsting over now.
kunigami's the type of guy who doesn't care anymore. doesn't care about who he was in the past. doesn't care about his sisters, doesn't care about respecting his elders and doesn't care about being the hero anymore. he's going to be an uncaring bastard if that's what he has to do to feel seen.
Imaging Kunigami having to go ghost on you for another bllk type of training camp. Even though he's a pro player. You didn't know he did something similar before he got into the pro league.
No contact, no second to tell anyone where you'll be in order to be even better, so he takes the opportunity but doesn't realize the impact it will leave on you
One day he’s just gone.
And it’s not like the first time, when you both shared tears and salty kisses as he explained to you why he had to go, why he had to do this. And you understood, of course you did. Blue Lock was going to be an amazing experience for him, the opportunity he’d been chasing for years.
A chance.
You both knew it would be difficult, neither of you able to pinpoint when you’d be able to see each other again, or even just talk. The moment he had his phone taken from him, Kunigami knew he’d be fighting to get it back. Not wanting to go too long from talking to you, keeping the connection strong and giving him the comfort and support even though he’s miles away. And yet, you both still made it work.
But this? This hurt.
There were no warnings, no dates to mark in your calendar as you began to count down the days to the day he would leave. No chances to say goodbye, nothing. And what made it worse is you didn’t even know why he left, beginning to blame yourself for Kunigami ghosting you completely. All your messages sitting unread in his cell phone as you tried to make contact, losing count of the amount of calls that you tried to make. You probably looked insane to anyone on the outside, leaving such a slew of failed connections as you tried to understand why. Beginning to wonder if maybe he’d blocked your number and found someone else, someone better. But Kunigami wouldn’t do that to you, would he?
The more you thought about it, and allowed the self-doubt and insecurities to fester and permeate your mind, the more your heart began to ache at what you lost. Telling yourself that Kunigami wouldn’t have just left you without a reason, or at least not without telling you. But somehow this only made your feelings worse, as resentment began to grow in the pit of your stomach as you lay alone in a cold bed each night, torturing yourself by scrolling through old messages and pictures as you tried to find an explanation for why he would’ve left you like this.
Of course he’d put his career, his dream in front of you. But you just wish for once he’d give you a chance.
Summary: Kunigami learns the hard way that a relationship with you could only last so long when neither of you have the time to maintain it.
WC: 5.1k
Tags/Warnings: Angst to hopeful ending, breakups, self-destructive behavior, Chigiri being a real one, Bachira being a sleepy one.
A/N: What started off as a drabble turned into a full on fic, so here ya go. Expect inaccuracies because I am not an expert on anything and I added more things as I wrote. This was going to be straight up heavy angst at first btw, but I changed my mind, so imagine how that would've went lol.
Kunigami always heard people say the breakup is the worst part.
They don't too often say the recovery from the breakup is worse by comparison, easily combining the two when, in reality, they're totally different experiences.
At least they are to him.
Before the breakup, life with you was all he could ask for and more; learning to love all that is you was an experience he wouldn't trade for anything in the universe. He memorized aspects of you that many would see as flaws, your morning routine mingled with his to make for both lively and quaint memories worth looking back on, and cherished the little instances of adoration that outweigh the occasional disagreement. He'd avert his gaze and lower his head whenever his friends would light heartedly jest about his devotion to you, something so evident in the way he'd cut a conversation short when his phone twitches in his pocket.
Meanwhile, you were the opposite. Where he'd look away from embarrassment, you'd look it in the eye and greet it with a bashful yet thankful smile, glad to feel this way over someone you hold near and dear to your heart. You'd be much more open with your affection than Kunigami, something one could think would put him off when showing affection wasn't an easy feat for him in public, but it wasn't a problem to him. There wasn't any serious problem with you or him for the three years you've been together.
Until your lives outside of "us" came knocking at the door.
You were happily doing better at work and spent more time there in the process, while Kunigami spent substantially more time with soccer. Maybe the stresses of certain teams being too good at picking out weaknesses got to him, or maybe it was a certain maneuver that made the physician force him to chill out a little with the rough play. He already didn't see you enough due to the time constraints and demand of matches, and with you becoming busier, the most he could do was immerse himself in the regular season.
Perhaps a little too well though. He'd rarely come home to you before you were asleep, and similarly, would be up and out before you knew he was home. Calls became shorter for time to focus, texts became scarcer, and effort was being put towards many different things aside from you.
You both felt bad for neglecting and feeling neglected by each other, but you especially felt forgotten by your boyfriend, and rightfully so. Kunigami, who's been nothing but a big sweetheart to you in all the time you've known him for, had begun choosing soccer over you. But in his mind, this will blow over after some time; he's just going through another rough patch with you because you're both tied up with your own things. Deep down, he knows there's something amiss, that there's a chance it won't simply blow over and will lead to a huge confrontation. How can he end that foreseen confrontation the same way he ends the occasional disagreements?
A true case of knowing when something might be wrong, but not quite knowing how to approach that something.
You apparently figured out your own solution when you greeted him at the front door one night in a stern manner, "Rensuke."
It's been a while since he came home to see you awake, and he's not sure if that's a good or bad thing right now. You aren't dressed for bed either, even though it's nearly midnight, so that should've been a red flag right there, but his mind only saw yellow. "Hey, I'm surprised you're awake," he greets you with a smile, cautious, weary, and genuine.
"Couldn't sleep," you say a bit distractedly, mentally preparing yourself as you follow Kunigami to the bedroom.
"Oh yeah? What time did you get off?" He casually makes conversation and drops his bag off.
"About an hour ago. Look," you inhale, which gets his attention, "we need to talk."
He finally looks at you, sees more than your attire, looks beyond the gleam of the promise ring he gave you so long ago, and sees the hesitation in your stance, in the way your arms are crossed and your shoulders are slightly drawn in. Your frown contains various emotions just waiting to be deciphered, and "we need to talk" became the red flag he recognized.
That was the sound of someone planning to breakup with him.
The denial kicked in right away though, and he asked nervously, "What's wrong?" An idiotic question, because what on Earth could've been right recently?
"It's about my job."
What happened with your job? Were you fired? Did someone say something to you?
"I got a better position."
His brain processes that information and he smiles, "That's good!" Why don't you look happy about it though?
"I'll have to move for it though."
The smile slips to the floor with a harsh thud, "...What?"
You cruelly repeated yourself to say your job wanted you to move for a bit to the other side of the world, and that you were considering taking them up on that offer.
Considering.
"So...you haven't made your mind yet?" He asks with optimism, unintentionally making it clear what he'd prefer you to do.
"Kind of, I don't know." You tug at the hem of your shirt when you began feeling the guilt creep in, "I was thinking of taking the offer at first."
"Before you talked to me about it?" His jacket feels too hot in the relatively comfortable room.
"I just said I was thinking about it," you remind him with an unintended tone of voice. You knew the conversation wouldn't be peaceful, but you hoped he would've at least understood where you're coming from.
"That's no different from accepting it." He knows he was wrong to say that, but continues with anger as his fuel, "And why do you have to move for this? To America at that!"
"Rensuke, it's for my job!" You make it seem like I'm leaving you, was an unpleasant statement your mind conjured up, and you felt even guiltier for not being as opposed to it as you should be. You're tired from work, but his anguish is clear to see with nothing but two bedside lamps to light the room.
Neither you nor him are tired enough to avoid arguing though, and the back and forth yelling was bad to put it lightly. He says you sprung this onto him out of nowhere, you say he should check his phone. He says you aren't considering how he feels, you say he isn't considering how you feel. He says he only saw you at 4 of his games, you say you can't drop everything for him and that was never a problem before. He says you're being unfair to him, you say you're being fair to the both of you. A dictionary of words were thrown back and forth and your neighbors definitely heard a handful of them.
Breathless and exhausted, you lower your voice and say, "I'm going to my sister's place for now until I'm ready to go."
Desperation finally comes in to play, a weird thing since your sister lives close by, but the implications are what scare Kunigami. "You don't have to-"
"I do. I need to go," your voice becomes wobblier by the second, "because my head hurts and I can't deal with whatever's going on right now. I need a break."
A break. You need a break.
"What kind of break?" He asks, desperately in need of clarification as he watches you throw assorted necessities into a bag.
You pause like you intend to say something, but remain silent, a decision that doesn't give him the satisfaction he craves. All he hears is, 'Maybe we need to break up.'
The bargaining begins.
He breathes as though he ran around the house 5 times, "Don't you think you're overreacting?"
"No." You weakly put the last shirt you picked out into your bag, "I have things I want to do."
"I know that, but-"
"Then let me do those things without wondering when you'll pay attention to me." You refuse to look at him again, or you'll really reconsider what you're doing. Just imagining what he looks like right now is almost enough to do it. You abruptly stand with your bag and keys in hand to say one little, "Bye," and walk out of what you used to call home.
He didn't fight to stop you, couldn't really, even when it feels like a plethora of things were left unsaid. He never heard the utterance of words he feared hearing from you, but everything else was eerily similar and nearly brought him to his knees. The slam of two doors, a front door and a car door, made him flinch where he was left standing in silent shock. His eyes didn't start burning until he by chance looked to his left to see remnants of you strewn across the surface of the dresser, then focuses on the bottom of the mirror lined with stickers that each hold a memory, many of which he thought he'd share with you for a lifetime.
Processing all of that on his own, forcing himself to accept that you were serious when you poured your heart and mind out to him, is what actually made his knees give out on him. The pain from the impact didn't register to his nervous system, too occupied with the numbing sensation that dreadfully spread across his body like a rash, so strong that he didn't know he was trembling until he glanced at his own hands fighting a losing battle for control. His eyes stopped burning, but were no better blurred and flooded with a river of tears, accompanied by pathetically loud wails he never thought he'd be capable of pulling off.
All at once, the bedroom felt like too much; it's not just the mirror and the dresser anymore, it's the closet of jackets and trinkets, the minor scuffs and scratches where the bed grazed the walls, the framed photos, God the photos. He can't look at those anymore. Would you want them? Probably not.
All of your things are here, are you going to take everything with you?
Would you leave him with anything?
You already took his heart with you.
"Damn it..." he whispered, frustrated and lost as to what to do, slumped on the floor and repeatedly wiping endless tears from his cheeks. There was a fleeting thought of calling someone when he began spiraling down a rabbit hole of questions about what's bound to happen, but he never went through with it.
Whoever he called wouldn't be you, a thought only twisted his guts more.
And so began the recovery process.
-----
You once joked that you'd never be able to compete with soccer if he fell too hard for it. It doesn't sound so funny now when recalling one of the last things you said to him, 'You're so selfish!'
Typical of a forward.
They knew what they were signing up for, the indignation spat out.
You should've given them more, the despair whispered.
A sickening jumble of the two sat in his chest ever since then, the brunt of which he could never wholly direct to you. How could he, when he's the one who drove you away in the first place? His heart's been diced by a knife, one that he alone wielded when you attempted to take it from him with caring hands.
Without a real punching bag to attack though, the jumble pounced onto anything in its path.
He swore he wouldn't fall back into the bad habits of his teen years, but it was all too easy to break that promise when there was no one left to keep it with aside from himself. The riptide of convoluted emotions lashing around followed him into his plays, unfairly choosing everything and everyone around him as its target. His usually controlled aggression was no where to be seen, replaced with a truculent version of itself that gave little care to its teammates outside of using them for scoring instead of cooperating. Whatever neutral or friendly chemistry he had with his team was pushed to the gutter without a care; an unappealingly churlish front is what greeted everyone no matter how nice they tried to play.
Even though he's the one acting out, it hurts him, because he's not normally like this and you'd hate to see him this way. It's as though he's watching someone who isn't him live out his days for him in a manner he usually wouldn't, even on days in the past when everything seemed to go wrong.
The parts of his unwarranted behavior that hurt the most right now, however, are Isagi, Bachira and Chigiri, because they know. The team knew of you, but the guys knew you. They all met you, exchanged numbers after getting friendly, and practically had a front row seat to the growth of the relationship. Only now, they witnessed the decay of it on both sides from start to finish. They were there for every call, shortened and missed, for every text left on read or answered with little thought, and the handful of times Kunigami drunkenly (and stupidly) lamented about you being too busy for him. They even all made sure to tell him the one thing he hated to hear: It's not your fault they left.
Saying that it would've eventually happened given how adept you were with your job is an excuse. Why wouldn't it be his fault? He went so far to blame you for things you weren't at fault for, and took his frustrations out on you after pretty much ignoring you for weeks in a borderline passive aggressive fashion.
Isagi and Bachira learned early on to leave him to his own devices after receiving cold shoulders, but Chigiri-
"Kunigami."
The orange haired man depressingly looked up from his cleats and met Chigiri's sentimental gaze. He couldn't tell if it placated him or pissed him off because that's all he's been seeing for the past two weeks.
"What?" He gave a curt response and yanked his towel from around his neck.
Chigiri didn't seem phased by it, not surprising since he's always been the quickest to see through him in moments like these. He kept a pensive expression on and leaned against the lockers behind him, "Have you heard from them since...y'know?"
The weight of the world suddenly jumped onto his back and he could feel his energy leaving him all at once (he supposes he should be thankful he typically has enough energy for soccer to not fall behind despite how he's feeling). Starting a conversation about you is no different from throwing salt into a wound that's taking a millennia to heal. Yes it's been four weeks, no he doesn't feel any better, you're still a sensitive topic, and your absence gives him frostbite in a metaphorical sense (sometimes it seems literal). He feels like the world's biggest coward everytime you're mentioned because he subconsciously clams up to avoid talking about you or what happened.
He did hear from you once though, three whole days after you broke up with him. All you said, in a text of all things, is that you'd be slowly moving your stuff out when you had the time, to which he simply replied, 'okay.' A simple and piteous response conveying none of what's been going through his mind; you don't need him to cry you a river and make you feel bad for a decision you've done enough thinking over.
It's obvious you don't even want to see him in person everytime he comes back to his place and it looks like he'd been burglarized instead of visited by a loved one.
He's not sure he'd want to see you either, though for a different reason.
Kunigami remembers Chigiri standing by waiting for an answer, so he shoves his cleats into his bag and answers abruptly with less bite than he had seconds ago, "No. Why?"
"I haven't heard from them in a couple days, that's all." A moment of silence passes and he begins to speak again, "Did th-"
"You're more likely to hear from them than I am, just give them some time." Ready to stop talking, he promptly stands the moment the slider of the zipper reaches its destination and throws out a faint, "Later," on his way out of the nearly empty locker room.
"Kunigami."
He stops, glancing over his shoulder in acknowledgement.
There's a lot Chigiri wants to say, wanted to say before things got this far, because being hopeful on the sidelines did no favors for anyone. Believing things could work out is entirely different from knowing things could work out, and he knows Kunigami believed before he could know. The man is once again experiencing a moment of powerlessness, of not knowing what to do when all you know doesn't work, when your ambitions end up taking the priority that should've belonged to something else. It's evident in how he's taking his frustrations out in the only ways he knows how, in the perineal bags under his eyes resulting from the broken sleep cycles of either too much sleep or too little, and the numerous times he's lingered in the showers just to be alone.
Despite having seen him the whole time since the breakup, it's hard to think Kunigami's mildly better than he was last month.
"Take care of yourself," Chigiri chooses to say in sincerity, and this time, hopes his teammate reads the multiple underlying meanings behind those four words.
Kunigami does, and if he had it in himself he'd laugh at how blantly concerned Chigiri is being from the norm, but the invisible down coat of exhaustion he wears doesn't slip from his shoulders.
Because you would've said the same thing, you have said the same thing plenty of times. Your words had layers to them much like Chigiri's too, the dissimilarity being the 'I love you' and 'see you tonight' slipped in between the lines.
"Yeah," he speaks in a tone encompassing how depleted he feels. The depletion could also be a result of a skipped meal or two today, something his stomach suddenly reminds him of with pangs of hunger. He walks out before anyone else can catch him, using a swiftness that used to be reserved for rushing home to you and is now for rushing away from you in a sense.
"Did you get to talk?" Bachira asks curiously from around the corner once Kunigami leaves.
He was so quiet I forgot he was there. "Define 'talk'," Chigiri answers and prepares to leave as well.
Bachira easily caught up to him and pouted, "No dice, huh?"
"None whatsoever." The long haired man starts to vent a little as they walk out of the building, "Is it bad that I kind of want to hit him?"
"Yeah, a little," Bachira confirms through a yawn. "But I get it."
"Like, I know he's going through it, but I hate when he got like this back then."
"Mhm."
"And somehow it seems worse this time. I mean, I know why it's worse, but I wish his immediate reaction to something bad wasn't this." Chigiri lets out a groan of frustration once he finishes and wills himself to cool down at the sight of Bachira rubbing his eyes. "It's only 9."
"Can't help it," Bachira slurs while drowsiness works its magic on him.
A fond roll of his eyes is Chigiri's response as they reach his car and find Isagi waiting. "You're lucky I don't live that far from you guys."
A bitter memory naturally reappears in the back of his mind, one of the last time he visited Kunigami's place at your concerned request. He may not strike anyone as a person whose life has gone to shit, but the disarray of certain areas of his house are dead giveaways; the refrigerator was frighteningly scarce of its usual contents, an empty beer can or two sat in the sink (he still wonders why to this day), and clothes sat in a pile in the corner of his bedroom. It's enough to make Chigiri wonder if you're faring any better than him, but judging from your lack of communication with Kunigami since you left, he knows you aren't so perfect either.
-----
It's been a month.
And some days.
...Three months.
He walks around his house aimlessly and doesn't look too hard for what's missing from his home, doesn't want to, or he'll conduct a search for all the things you've taken and hope like an idiot that there's something left of you. The first step is not grasping for nonexistent straws after all, and he's managing as best as he can (he's long since stopped expecting to see you anytime he checks his phone).
The heat seeking missile of irritation that flew nonstop randomly ceased by this point, leaving him in a cold, empty husk of his former self. He wonders if he was better off basked in negativity because feeling nothing doesn't seem any better. The walks to his car from practice were uneventful. Shopping for basic needs was uneventful. The drives home were uneventful. Walking inside a house void of life was uneventful. Going to sleep in a king-sized bed by himself was uneventful.
Seeing his friends is a little breather from the uneventful cycle, but that's all it is, a breather.
His performance still holds up, but whatever exhilaration the sport brings him is often short-lived and eclipsed by the blank spot of someone who once shared that exhilaration in the past.
People who get over heartbreak this soon must not have been in love, he wistfully thinks to himself in bed. It's his day off, and he opted to stay home for once, a decision he's not sure was a good one. But he spent so many days swaddled by vicious self-hatred, constantly blaming himself and never knowing how to stop, that he rarely stayed put. He was always out for a game, at practice, the gym, stores, you name it, just to stay busy.
Ironic how soccer kept him the busiest while also being the thing that put a crack in the relationship.
Though he was stubborn about it towards the end of things, the fact remains that the schedules your lives revolved around conflicted greatly after some time, something that became especially evident once you moved in with him. He was left with little time for you, and vice versa; you had a life outside of his, and he had a life outside of yours.
Maybe we were bound to split up then, he thinks while admiring the sunrise for the first time in a while. There's nothing wrong with being passionate for something, you had things you wanted to do, and he supported you (still does). He never once viewed your independence as a negative, it was something he admired about you.
He sits up with a stretch and tries not to think about the copious amount of space he's free to use.
'I feel like a house sitter,' he recalls you whimpering through your desperation that night. He wanted to ask how long you'd been feeling that way, wanted to say that he'd do better for the 50th time. But he couldn't ask about something he should've had a rough idea of, and he definitely couldn't lie to you nor himself.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, he picks up his phone with the intention of checking for rain, but is dumbfounded to see a text from you 32 minutes ago.
'Can we talk?'
He stares wide eyed at his screen until it goes dark on him. Talk. Like this? Or over the phone? He should be jumping for joy that you're asking to talk, let alone contacting him again, but he's filled to the brim with uncertainty. What did you want to talk about? Why'd you want to talk to him again? Were you worried? Did one of the guys talk to you? Did you leave something?
The last question made him look around the hallway by instinct, contradictory of what he's been trying to do lately, and he finally allows himself to assess the damage.
His auburn eyes locked onto something left sitting on the narrow table, a small ceramic lamp he remembers you picking out at a furniture store. You thought it'd be the perfect size considering where you planned to put it, and you were right, he can't imagine it being anywhere else.
But why is it here?
He walks aimlessly into the living room and sees more things worth questioning. A decent chunk of your books are still left standing on the bookshelf, your succulent plants are still sitting on the windowsill (and not dead by some miracle), and he spied one of your umbrellas left behind in the entryway organizer. Your sunglasses, one of your favorite birthday cards, your Monopoly game, they're all there. It's a little mortifying that he's just now noticing all of this, but he's far too confused to dwell on it.
Maybe you just didn't get around to everything yet, except you'd never be so forgetful to leave this many things behind. The thought immediately gets debunked anyways when something randomly tells him to check the bedroom, making him nearly sprint back to find what else he blindly looked past. Most of your jackets are in their same spots in the closet, your trinkets don't even look like they've been touched, and the photos he last saw with eyes obscured by tears remained where they've always been.
Even the polaroids, your polaroids, that you periodically took within the first year of the relationship were still in the album you purchased just for them. And the album, something you hold so close to you and look at with the fondest of gazes, still sat in the bottom drawer of the dresser.
There are many things missing, that much he can see, but there should definitely be less than this left behind after a month.
The uncertainty has left and been replaced with confusion.
Kunigami then realizes he never replied to you and quickly texts back, 'Sure,' not even bothering to figure out what exactly you meant by talk. But you want to talk, and that's something.
Your response is almost instant, 'Okay, I'm coming over. See you in seven-ish minutes.'
"Seven minutes!?" He exclaimed and remembered that your sister's place isn't so far from his. So he spends the next five minutes fixing himself up to look presentable, as well as straighten up the cocoon of sorrow his (your, our??) bedroom turned into. Here he is running around like a headless chicken for someone he should be used to and perfectly capable of keeping his composure around, but that's nearly impossible under these circumstances, especially when that someone is you.
You who he was skittish around on the fifth "friendly" date because none of your other friends joined you two for the first time, which lead to him working himself up and finally asking you out. You who came over so often that he eventually asked (nearly begged) to move in with him after handing over a second house key. You who-
Ding-dong~
-is here. That was fast, but you did say seven minutes, well, seven-ish, he has to open the door, you don't have his key anymore-
He rushes over to the front door but stalls when he's bewildered by a thought, one that was embarrassingly late to make an appearance. What are you doing at your sister's place? Isagi told him you were in America last month. The longing for answers to his questions pushes him to open the door, and the sight of you is almost enough to make him forget everything.
"Hey," he greets you in awe. You didn't go through some major transformation, and you aren't dressed any particular way. But God, he missed seeing you, missed you. He missed your warm, penetrating eyes, your soundboard of laughter, and your domestic, loving touch. He wants to hug you so badly, but is your touch still one of love? Would you let him hear your laughs? Do you still look at him the same way?
"Hey," you greet him warmly, and your left hand moves just enough to catch his attention. Your ring finger still glints, because of the promise ring, you kept the-
"You still wear it?" He asks in disbelief.
Your eyebrows raise like you never realized it and you lift your hand to touch the ring, "Oh, uh, yeah. I do."
He's flipping out on the inside, but he controls himself on the outside enough to ask, "What are you doing here?" He receives a look of perplexity and rephrases, "I mean, why aren't you in America?"
"Oh, I just..." you trail off uncertainly, but restart with a light shake of your head, "I needed to see you. Before I go back."
You're going back. He tries not to let the disappointment show, but the slight downward tilt of your chin lets him know he failed. "What did you need to see me for?"
You fiddle with the hem of your shirt (his lovesick brain focuses on the cute habit) and say, "I wanted to apologize."
He snaps out of his little trance and swiftly replies, "I should apologize. The way I treated you was unacceptable-"
"I need to apologize too, because I ignored you for a bit and-"
"That was because of work though, I have no excuse-"
"Ren, wait," you interrupt with an airy laugh, "are we going to keep trying to one-up each other at the entrance?"
"Oh, yeah," he steps aside, "wait, you said-"
"I don't have to go back today," you casually admit with an amused smirk as you walk in.
You leave him speechless at the door, but he breaks out into a laugh seconds later and runs his hand through his soft, spiky locks in relief. Neither of you have fully cracked the cans open yet, he's still in the dark about why exactly you came back, and he has two keys to his house. But the fond way in which you say his nickname, coupled with the promise ring you still wear snuggly and proudly, puts him at just enough ease to not turn into a soap opera protagonist.
Life with you before the breakup was all he could as for and more, the breakup itself was a nightmare that played out in real life, and recovering from the breakup was a hellish episode he's not sure he ever grew out of.
But if there's a promise of a life with you after all of that, it'll all seem worth it.
Summary: Angels could care. They could guard. But to love? To desire more than what they can get? That was the line they were not supposed to cross.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags and themes: angel x human, forbidden love, yearning, angst, marriage and family, character death, loosely based on the movie City of Angels (1998) and the song Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, Chigiri Hyoma mentioned
Author's note: This is my love letter to all my Kunigami girlies. They may seem quiet, but I know they love Kunigami Rensuke with all their hearts. I've planned, worked, and proofread this for three months, and I am so happy to share with you this beautiful piece I've written and cried over. I know this prompt and idea have been tossed around in all of the pairings and yumeships in Blue Lock, and I'd love to add this to the ever-growing collection of stories. May you fall in love with your guardian angel, Rensuke, as I have while I wrote this, and may you cry like I did days ago as I wrapped this up and proofread it. As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated.
photo clipped from "The Creation of Adam," a fresco by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel
Want more stories? Check out the Blue Lock Masterlist!
@ohagiyoo ✨
They say angels existed before the first breath of creation. They are beings of light woven from obedience and will, tasked with watching, guiding, and never faltering. Each human is born with an assigned guardian, and when the human dies, the angel moves on.
Life after life.
Breath after breath.
No attachment. No deviation.
Kunigami Rensuke had never questioned it.
He stood at the edge of battlefields and the doors of nursery rooms, watching kings die and beggars live, all with the same steady resolve. Life is a cycle and fleeting to him. Besides, mortals blinked in and out of existence like fireflies.
Then there came you.
The moment you breathed in the cold hospital air, he was there, hovering quietly above the fluorescent lights. He watched as your tiny hands flailed around and you cried against your mother’s chest.
Another breath.
Another soul.
Another task.
But something stuck.
It happened when you were three.
You had just learned how to run, full speed, and with no control. Kunigami was familiar with this stage of human life. Toddlers always run carelessly into danger. But this time, he was just out of reach when you tumbled forward on the stairs, your little feet slipping off the edge.
It felt like time stopped.
He quickly dove to catch you, the wind bending around him like a ripple in the air. You hit the bottom of the stairs with a thud… but a cry never came. Kunigami rested your head on the last step, sighing in relief that he was able to save you from what could’ve caused you your last breath.
The next thing he knew, your mother was already rushing towards you, her voice was as frantic as her hands as she felt for bumps and scratches on your body. “Oh, sweet girl,” she cried softly, kissing the top of your head, “you must have a very protective angel.”
She had no idea how right she was.
You grew quiet, observant, and always a little apart. You weren’t lonely. Just… untouched, like a snow-covered branch no one dared to disturb.
Children, though, can be unkind when they don’t understand softness. They called you names, hid your things, and laughed when you flinched. Kunigami expected you to tell someone. You never did. When you cried alone behind the locked bathroom stall, he couldn’t do anything. This isn’t any physical pain that he can help you avoid. This one… He couldn’t stop it for you.
He asked the other older and wiser angels if there was anything more he could do.
“There isn’t,” they told him. “You are only the guide, Rensuke. Not the author.”
He hated that he couldn’t do more.
Then, what seemed impossible happened for the first time in his eternity.
You began noticing him.
At first, you thought it was the glint of light in the corner of your eye, subtly and oddly consistent. You tried to blink it away, thinking it was just the sun.
But it always shows up only when you cry or feel down.
When your voice cracked during a talent show at school, and most of them laughed, it flickered by your side. When you sat alone during lunch or after school, it flickered just above your shoulder, steady and pulsing like a heartbeat. And then one day, you turned your head in its direction at the corner of your room where he stood.
“… Are you real?” you asked. Kunigami replied, but all you saw was the light flickering.
Starting that night, you began a small ritual of saying thank you to your guiding light before you sleep.
Kunigami stood in the shadows of your room, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. This was the first time he had ever witnessed this. You weren’t the most remarkable human he’d guarded. You weren’t a prodigy or a martyr or a miracle.
But you were kindhearted, strong, and trying.
And out of everyone he had guarded in his lifetime, it was enough to make you the most memorable above all.
You grew older, and the world grew heavier.
Kunigami noticed how your smiles became rarer and your silences even longer. Life didn’t get easier just because you grew into an adult. It demanded more from you. Rent, bills, taxes, deadlines, expectations. You were exhausted beyond explanation, and your quietness was no longer peaceful.
And yet, you still have your guiding light to talk to.
“Rough day,” you grunted as you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag on the floor. You knew the light was there, you didn’t need to glance up. Kunigami didn’t have to guess if you were talking to him either. “I might quit this job. It’s draining me and I hate it so much!”
Kunigami moved from his corner in your apartment, crossing his arms as he spoke. “Then quit. There’s an opening a few blocks down, and I know you’d like the people there.”
You sighed as you stirred your instant ramen and paused. “I guess I’m just tired,” you said, leaning on the counter. “I don’t want to start over again.” You saw the light flicker softly as if it were its way of comforting you. Kunigami knew it was all he could give you.
Across the room, your black cat, green-eyed and curious, sat on the windowsill with its tail flicking. It stared at the angel with dilated eyes, as if waiting to see what he’d do or say next. Kunigami turned to meet the cat’s wide gaze, and he chuckled. Bending down, he smiled at it. “You can see me, huh? Well, lucky you.”
The cat meowed back at him, loud and sweet. That caught your attention, making you walk towards your feline friend with your instant ramen in hand. You reached out to pet its fur, and it purred softly. “What’s up with you, girly?” you asked it.
Kunigami sighed, seeing how he was so close yet you couldn’t see him. He watched this scene play out every day; how you’d hold yourself together every night, the little reassurances you whisper to yourself before leaving your apartment, surviving each day with cheap coffee and instant ramen. But what never changed is how you’re still thankful to your guiding light, wishing it goodnight before you drift to sleep.
And maybe that’s what’s been changing him lately. Because every day, he'd find himself answering.
“You did well today,” he’d say once again as he watched you get into bed. “I’m proud of you.”
As he watched the tiny furrow on your brow relax and your breathing grew slower, he found himself feeling… something…
Angels weren’t supposed to get attached.
He wasn’t supposed to long for you to hear him.
On some days, you would talk more like you used to, and he’d listen intently, accompanying you in your kitchen as you chopped ingredients for your dinner. You’d talk about what happened at the office, like how your supervisor took credit for something you’ve worked for months, or how you spent your lunch crying in your car again. Kunigami would see how you’d smile through every bad day, but ever so slightly, he’d notice how your lips would shake remembering these events.
When you vented, he’d pace the apartment, racking his mind how to comfort you.
When you cried, he’d stand by your bed, tempted to run his fingers through your hair just to let you know that your guiding light was there.
You cried how lonely it feels to come home to silence every day, even when the quiet was a choice.
“I don’t know if you’re real,” you sobbed, “but talking to you helps a lot. It feels like somehow, someone’s listening to me.”
“I’m real, Y/N,” the angel said, “I’m always listening.”
But then, you couldn’t hear him.
Having you realize he’s there and at the same time questioning whether he’s real was both a joy and a torture to him. He hated it. He hated that all he could do was hover and watch.
There was one good day, though, he realized. It was when you finally decided to apply for a different job and luckily scored a job interview. He has never seen you this happy, jumping and dancing with your cat in your arms.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it feels so good! I can finally ditch my old job if I get this,” you cheered. Kunigami smiled and moved towards you. “You’re gonna get it. I know you will.” The cat in your arms meowed in agreement, and you laughed. “You think so too, little girl?” you cooed. “Thank you!”
Oh, how Kunigami wanted it to be him you’d thank instead.
He was never supposed to feel something deeper for you.
That was the unspoken truth in every angel’s vow. They could care. They could guard. But to love? To desire more than what they can get?
That was the line they were not supposed to cross.
Yet there he stood, at the corner of your apartment as always, watching you dancing. Badly, he thought, but you looked so happy. Hair tied up, an oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder as you spun in circles with your cat chasing after your feet.
Kunigami had never seen anything as beautiful as this view.
It would be so easy to step into your world. Maybe just for a little while.
The stars didn’t answer, but Heaven… Heaven knew.
Chigiri Hyoma came to him the next morning as Kunigami followed you to your new job. As his silvery wings folded behind him, Chigiri fell into the rhythm of Kunigami’s steps, both unseen by the human eye.
“You’re unraveling, Rensuke,” Chigiri spoke softly as he buried his hands into his pockets. “You speak like a human, and you feel like one.” Kunigami fell silent, his eyes fixed on your figure as you rushed through the crowd. “The Father knows,” Chigiri continued, “and still, you haven’t been recalled. Do you have an idea why?”
Kunigami sighed and then glanced over Chigiri. “Because He wants to see what I’ll choose.”
It happened two days later.
Unfortunately, that day was starting to be an accumulation of all the bad things that could happen: you were running late, you spilled coffee on your shirt before you left, forgot to check the weather, and had no umbrella, either, and you didn’t have enough sleep. But with all of these happening, you felt… numb… no, empty, that it almost scared you.
And then there he was.
No shining light around him, not dressed in his usual trench coat. He was standing there, meeting your eyes with his kind, orange eyes, and… damp from the rain. He held out his umbrella to you, like it was something he was used to doing.
“Hey,” he called out, his voice warm, “I think you need this more than I do.”
You blinked up at him, a little shocked. “Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent,” he smiled. Wow. He looks beautiful.
You stared at him a second longer, then reached for the umbrella. For a moment, your fingers brushed, and something sparked. Just enough to leave you wondering.
“Thank you,” you murmured, a smile now adorning your lips. He smiled back, and it felt familiar. “Name’s Rensuke,” he said.
“Rensuke,” you repeated. It rolled effortlessly on your tongue, like it was a name you knew for years and years. You chuckled, soft and shy, and said, “I’m Y/N. I’m glad I met you.”
You met him again a week later. You see him inside the bookstore you frequent, two blocks from your apartment. It was a messy little place where the books were always unorganized, but it always had something for everybody who walked in.
Rensuke was in the philosophy section, flipping through a dog-eared copy of something Camus wrote. You walked towards him, your heart beating hard.
“Rensuke,” you called as your mind screamed to turn and leave. Yet, when he looked up and smiled, the same calm and grounding smile he gave you that day, you thought you did a great job approaching him.
“Hey. Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said casually, like this happened all the time.
You ended up talking a bit, sharing favorite authors, and which stories they like rereading for nostalgia’s sake. You realized Rensuke likes books that make him feel, and he learned you liked books that make you think. Leaving the bookstore with a book he recommended made your cheeks warm, and you felt happier than the days before.
The third time was no longer a coincidence, you thought.
It was raining that day. You found Rensuke on the corner street, taking shelter under a fruit store’s awning. He held his hand out into the rain, as if he were feeling the tiny drops of water falling from the sky. His eyes were warm despite the cold weather.
“Seems like you’re the one who needs saving now,” you called out as you walked towards him. He looked up, surprised, and smiled at you. “You always show up on time,” Rensuke said, and you felt your stomach flip momentarily.
You stared into his orange eyes. They remind you of the sunsets you’d witness from your apartment window, the same hue spilling through the thin curtains as the day ends, warm and loving.
You bit your bottom lip and averted your gaze away from his, and he began to worry for a bit. Then you inhaled and spoke. “Do you… Do you wanna get coffee together? Tea? Anything you’d prefer. I mean, it’s raining and I obviously don’t want-“
“I’d like that.”
You looked up at him again, and his eyes were full of something you couldn't name. Not yet. You broke into a smile and nodded. “Well, get under my umbrella.” Rensuke did, and since he was taller, he took the umbrella and held it up for both of you. When he felt your hand on his arm, his breath hitched. You didn’t catch it, but the sky did.
You picked the small café tucked in the corner of a quiet block. It was mostly empty aside from the barista and the man sitting in the corner with his nose in his novel. You two sat at the quiet and cozy tables at the back of the café.
He took his coffee black, while you put a packet of cream and sugar into yours. You stirred your drink, unsure how to start a conversation.
“So, Rensuke,” you spoke, shyly, “what do you do?”
He smiled, and you noticed the worried glint in his eyes as if he wasn’t sure how to answer your question. “I… work for someone,” Rensuke vaguely replied. “It’s kind of a long-term role.” You raised a brow at his response. “That sounds mysterious.”
He chuckled as he lifted his cup to his lips. You tried hard not to focus on how his lips curled around the cup’s lip as he took a sip. “Yeah,” he spoke, “it’s hard to explain my job without sounding insane, Y/N.”
Your heart fluttered at how your name sounds in his lips, how his voice dipped at the last syllable. “Try me,” you said, composing yourself.
“Well,” he sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Let’s say it’s a job that involves… watching over people. Guiding them, sometimes. Keeping them safe when I can.”
“Sounds noble,” you replied, sipping your drink. “Is your boss nice?”
You saw the flash of hesitation in his eyes and wondered if you hit a nerve. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Rensuke.” He shook his head as he gave a faint smile. “It’s okay. And it really depends on the day,” he said. “He doesn’t do small talk. When He speaks, He’s straightforward about it. Frank. But He’s good.”
“Alright, that’s good enough,” you laughed. “Next question: how old are you?”
He stared at you for a moment, then glanced out the windows, as if counting all the years he’s been existing.
“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”
“That sounds like a very elderly answer.”
Rensuke grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”
There was something strange about him. Something quiet and old and wise, but he wasn’t off-putting in any way. If anything, he seems like someone who has seen so much in his life and still chose to smile kindly at strangers.
You didn’t understand it, but you wanted to.
“Enough about me, Y/N,” he spoke, interrupting your thoughts. “I wanna know about you.”
It was late when you invited him in. You really didn’t plan it, but when Rensuke walked you home and lingered in the hallway, making sure you’d get into your unit safely, your voice found the words on its own.
“Do you wanna come inside?”
He stilled and hesitated for a second. Then he nodded.
The apartment looked the same as it always did because he had memorized it. Every book stacked on your coffee table, your favorite yellow mug that your mom gave you when you moved away, sitting beside the sink, and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in every corner of your apartment. This was your sanctuary. And for years, he’d only been here within the shadows, witnessing everything.
Now, you were offering him a seat on the couch, and some tea she quickly made for both of you. He was seeing a rare glimpse of you, quiet and unguarded.
Your cat jumped onto the couch and curled up beside him, which surprised you. “Huh,” you spoke, mildly confused. “She really likes you.” Rensuke chuckled, brushing his fingers over its soft fur. “She’s got good instincts.”
You sat across from him as you pulled your knees over your chest. “I don’t do this often. Let people in, I mean. Not like this.”
He didn’t reply. He just looked at you with eyes that can calm the chaos. Of course, he knew that.
“I guess I just feel like you… You truly listen. You don’t just hear me, you really listen.”
Rensuke nodded wordlessly, his heart stuttering.
You began to share tidbits of your memories from childhood. Of course, he knew those, too. He remembered when you fell off your bike after riding it so fast, and you had to cry silently so no one would hear. The first time your dad wasn’t present on your birthday. The nights you’d curl up under blankets during thunderstorms as you sang a lullaby to calm yourself.
You opened up more about your struggle fitting in as a child, how you didn’t have that many friends as they would all come and go, and the loneliness you felt when you moved out for college, until now.
“I have this friend,” you spoke, laughing a little at how silly the confession would sound. “I know this sounds crazy, but… I’d talk to this light that I see everywhere. I think I noticed it when I was a child, and until now, it’s still around. I thought it was my guiding light or something. But I guess it was one of my ways to cope in life.”
“You weren’t crazy,” he said softly. You looked at him, brows furrowing a bit. “How would you know that?” You asked. Rensuke smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a hunch.”
“What about you? What were you like when you were younger?”
Rensuke looked away. Hesitant.
“That’s hard to answer,” he murmured. “I… don’t remember being young. I think I’ve always been this way ever since.” There was a silence between the two of you, and then you spoke. “That’s a strange thing to say.”
“It is.”
The night grew deeper. The tea got cold. And yet, neither of you moved to end the night.
You didn’t know when it happened or who moved first, but you found yourself sitting beside him now. Your voice grew quieter, slower, like it was a heartbeat rather than a conversation. You didn’t know when the silence began feeling so loud. And when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.
He stared at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, like he had known you for so long. But behind those eyes, you can see something in his expression, like a man holding on to the last seconds of something so holy.
And then he kissed you.
Slowly, earnestly, trembling. It felt like you breathed for the first time.
Rensuke rested his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over your skin like he was trying to memorize how your skin feels on his palm.
You didn’t notice.
But he did.
The shift in the moment of contact.
When you finally said good night, see you again tomorrow…
When you closed the door, smiling through the crack as it gets smaller and smaller…
Chigiri was there. Watching at the end of the hall.
He stood there with his arms folded in front of him, his face still and cold. “So, this is what you’ve chosen, Rensuke.”
Kunigami sighed long and quietly. “Don’t start.”
“You know you crossed the line,” Chigiri said. “He knows.”
“That was not my intention-“
“Yet you did.”
The silence stretched between the angels as the fluorescent light buzzed above them. Suddenly, the atmosphere grew colder.
“She doesn’t know who you are. She only knows you as Rensuke, the human. And yet, you let her fall… Let yourself fall.”
“Hyoma, I’ve seen her suffer alone for years,” Kunigami reasoned, “how she would break and stitch herself back together every day with nothing but hope and grit. And I couldn’t touch her. I couldn’t speak to her or help her. I just… I just watched.”
“And you knew that was your role, Rensuke,” Chigiri replied. “Until you decided it wasn’t enough for you.”
Again, silence.
Then, Chigiri spoke once more.
“The Father doesn’t punish out of cruelty, Rensuke. You know that full well. But He doesn’t turn a blind eye to angels who forget their place.”
Kunigami lowered his gaze as his jaw clenched. He knew what Chigiri meant. He knew what would happen the moment he kissed your lips.
“You have one last chance. A choice.”
For Kunigami, there wasn’t any. But by morning, he returned to what he truly was: your guarding light.
He watched you wake up so giddy, dancing to love songs with your cat, and his heart ached at the thought that at the end of the day, he wouldn’t be there to visit you again. He wouldn’t be on the couch with you and talk to you in a hushed voice. He wouldn’t be able to feel your skin and kiss your lips.
And to see your joy disappear by the hour made him sick.
You sat on the couch, petting your cat absentmindedly. Your eyes were glued to the door, waiting for a knock. Waiting for something, a sign. Anything to make her believe Rensuke was real.
“Was I wrong to let him in?” you asked. Kunigami was sure you were asking him. But…
No flicker. No light.
And the tears that fell from your eyes broke him.
For the first time in all of eternity, it hurt to be so far away.
You realized that the light disappeared, too. You thought it was just on that night, but… The light was gone.
No flicker over your shoulder.
You shrugged it off for a while, but you kept talking around your apartment, hoping it'd flicker in response like it did before.
But days turned to weeks.
And the silence remained.
You stopped talking to the light.
You stopped looking at the corners of your apartment for any sign.
You stopped hoping.
You moved on… or you tried to. But unbeknownst to you, Kunigami remained.
The first man you let into your life after Rensuke was kind, gentle, and a little awkward with his words, but thoughtful in how he always opened your door and drove you to and from your workplace.
Kunigami watched as you looked at him like you were trying to convince yourself that this could be different.
And it was. Because it was human.
And Kunigami, in all his stillness, broke a little more when he watched you fall for this man and smile at him the way you would smile at Rensuke.
You and your partner moved into a much bigger apartment, with big windows that let in a lot of sunlight during the day and crooked walls with peeling paint. You laughed as you two painted the apartment together, the sound echoing inside the room as you made fun of him for wearing quirky overalls.
You placed little plants by the windowsill: basil, rosemary, and a little cactus. All planted in old, chipped mugs.
He kissed you after he dropped you off at work.
You both bought a couch much softer than the one you had before, where you both would fall asleep mid-conversation.
Kunigami watched you and how your smile had finally remained on your face after years of loneliness. He watched you dance in the kitchen with your partner in your pajamas, singing songs off-key, and your cat chasing your feet.
And when you broke the news with joyful tears in your eyes, that you were expecting, Kunigami stood by the door, breathless in a way that angels shouldn’t be. He was seeing you bloom into this wonder, and he was happy.
Your daughter came into the world on a rainy spring morning.
She had his eyes and your lips.
You named her after a royalty in a distant history, hoping she would grow as strong and determined as she was in her time.
But later that night, while you reached over her bassinet to touch her cheek, you whispered something.
Kunigami almost fell to his knees because it had been a long time since you spoken to the light.
“Wherever you are, my guiding light… If you’re still nearby… Thank you. Thank you for keeping me safe and alive long enough to have this.”
Kunigami stayed by your bedside for hours, watching you and your daughter sleep. He relished this moment of peace, as you slept with your lips slightly parted and without a care in the world.
There were homemade birthday cakes.
Tears over scraped knees and sick days.
Storybooks read in ridiculous voices that made your daughter giggle so hard she’d sometimes start coughing.
Then a second child was born. This time, a boy. Jumpy, loud, and always so curious.
Kunigami witnessed as your apartment stretched to make space for more laughter, more exhaustion, and more love.
He stood in the hallway when your partner got on his knee and held a ring in his hand while in the middle of baking. You tearfully said yes as your daughter threw flour around you, and your son clapped from the highchair.
You held a small wedding, intimate and special. You wore a flowy white dress and carried daisies as you walked down the aisle. Kunigami sat at the back of the chapel as he watched you say your vows and seal your union with a kiss.
He stood by the porch as you got busy filling your new house with furniture, smiling softly at how much joy you were feeling. He was nearby when you made meals for your family, stood by you as you taught your kids how to ride their bikes, and had small and quiet dance sessions with your husband every night, under the dim light of your living room once the kids were asleep.
You aged,
He never did.
But he noticed the slowness in your steps, how you’d stretch your back every now and then with a groan. You started wearing reading glasses, and you laughed a little louder now, lighter, like you finally let the weight of life go.
You talked to the light less.
You hummed more.
And your husband, who loved you deeply and devotedly, took his last breath.
Kunigami stood behind you at the funeral home as you looked over your husband’s casket for the last time. You looked smaller, quieter.
When it was time to put him on the ground, Kunigami watched you as you whispered goodbye, and tossed a single white rose before the casket was covered by dirt.
And for the first time in a long time, Kunigami wanted to reach for you, to hold you, just once.
But he didn’t.
Your children grew and had families, and they still visit often.
You watched your grandchildren grow.
You told them stories of your childhood and lessons you learned over the years as you had tea and knitted scarves for Christmas.
You still had the little cactus mug. You’re surprised it was still alive after all those years.
On the night of your birthday, your 84th, after the big celebration your children threw for you, you were left alone again. You sat on your bed as you read the letters your grandchildren wrote for you.
Kunigami read them with you as he sat beside you, watching your smile. You looked so much older.
And then you saw it flicker by your shoulder.
“Are you greeting me a happy birthday, old friend?” You asked.
Kunigami smiled and nodded. “Yes, I am. Happy birthday, Y/N.”
You didn’t hear him, but the pulsing light tells you that it did.
“Thank you for staying by my side, guiding light.”
The hospital room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the monitor and the soft hum of chatter down the hallway.
Your children just left. They came to visit every day now, never leaving you alone for long. Sometimes it would just be your daughter and her family, sometimes your son and his family. But it was livelier when everyone was there, talking over each other to keep you company.
Your grandchildren would bring you drawings from school or some of their highly graded homework to cheer you up. You had all their drawings on the wall beside you, the sight of their works comforting you in the hours you were alone.
You smiled for them.
You stayed strong for them.
But in the moments between, when the sun sets and your hands tremble too much to hold a spoon, the silence presses in.
There was a sadness in your chest that even your old age couldn’t explain. Something unfinished. Something… missing.
That night, Heaven moved.
They granted him an opportunity, some grace… just for a moment.
For his faithfulness.
For his steadfastness.
For his obedience.
That night, he came.
As Rensuke.
You felt his presence before the door opened. And then, like a dream, he stepped in. Taller than you remembered, older than he should’ve been. But with eyes just the same.
Your brows arched, amused despite the thinness of your breath.
“You never aged. That’s unfair of you.”
Rensuke smiled and shrugged. “I didn’t have the heart to.”
You laughed weakly, and he moved closer, pulling a chair beside your bed like he belonged there. “How have you been?” You asked, your voice warm and weak. “I’ve been watching. Always had.”
Your eyes lingered on his face as you remembered the first time you met him under the pouring rain. You sighed deeply and realized something. “Do you remember the light I told you about? The one that flickered when I was sad and pulsed when I talked to it? It always felt like it wasn’t just a light, like someone was there.”
Rensuke tilted his head as he kept your gaze. “You always had a sharp intuition, Y/N.”
You scoffed softly as you smiled. “So, it was you.”
He nodded and said, “Yes. I was your guiding light.”
Rensuke moved closer to your bed as he brushed the gray hairs away from your face. “I witnessed your life from the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you close them tonight,” he spoke with reverence and longing. “Every milestone. Every fall. Every joy and heartbreak. You never saw me, but I was there. Well, maybe your cat was the only one who saw me.”
You laughed as you blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling, but failed.
“I am so proud of you,” Rensuke continued. “You lived your life with kindness and courage, and it was an honor to be the one assigned to you.”
Your fingers trembled as you reached for his hand, and he gently took it, bringing it closer to his lips and kissing your knuckles. “But why?” you asked, your voice cracking as tears streamed down your cheeks. “Why did you become human back then?”
Rensuke’s expression softened into something pure and loving.
“Because I wanted to step into your world, just for once. To see you, not just at the corner of your apartment or from the doorways of your home. But to truly see you. To hear you laugh up close. To touch the life I’ve been guarding. And… and to let you know that you weren’t alone, even in just a short moment.”
You shook as you cried, happy that at least this was the closure you needed from Rensuke. To finally know who he really was and to know how he has saved you so many times. To feel reassured, that in the brief moment…
“You loved me, Rensuke,” you whispered through your tears.
“I always did,” he replied. “And I always will.”
You closed your eyes after a few minutes of seeing him, his hand still in yours. He felt your grip loosen in peace, and he felt the air changing.
The machine beeped one tone, alerting the nurses that you had passed. Kunigami stood at the corner of the room as they rushed into your room, attempting to revive you. There was a hush over the room as the nurses realized there was nothing they could do, and Kunigami watched your soul rise from your body, his heart swelling and breaking at once.
And in that moment, he felt it.
He was absolved of his duty. He has finished the job of guiding another beautiful soul through life until death.
Then Heaven moved again.
The delivery room was filled with cries from another new soul, as the nurses and the doctor busied themselves cleaning up the baby.
Unbeknownst to everyone, there stood Kunigami, his eyes soft and shoulders squared, already taking the role of this baby’s guardian. To protect. To witness. To guide.
Just as he had done before.
And so, with your memory etched like the constellations in the fabric of his soul, Kunigami Rensuke began again.
No, cuz imagine Kunigami family seeing him again like after wild card or whatever like. HES SO DIFFERENT WTAF I'D BE SO CONCERNED. AND IMAGINE HIS SISTERS SEEING HIM OMFGG 💔💔💔💔
