I post this late, because yesterday I was like: *watches video how to color st in gimp* IM GONNA COLOR THE THING!!. But then European Championship happened and this actually took like half a day more than I intended XD
(Also, this is my first time using gimp ever so... sorry XD)
It was just a school trip.
Just an educational trip.
He wanted to see the planets and stars.
Then Matsukawa was falling, falling... And everything changed.
Day 6 - Different Kisses Shared Among Them // Youtuber AU
Day 7 - Comfort // Childhood
The day the call came through, Matsukawa abandoned the payload and nearly got them all killed, and no one blamed him for it. He spent the rest of that night and the next day sitting on the viewdeck, staring out at the stars passing by them, not speaking and not crying, just sitting. On the second night, Takahiro brought the blankets and pillows from Matsukawa’s ‘secret’ horde. He didn’t speak as he sat, wrapping them both in warmth and softness, just leaned his head against Matsukawa’s shoulder and looked at the light of a passing nebula. It could have been hours later when Matsukawa finally spoke, his voice ragged and exhausted.
“They said she went quietly,” he said. “Peacefully.” Takahiro nodded.
“She didn’t deserve to suffer,” he said. Matsukawa’s breath hitched in his throat and he curled in on himself.
“I f-failed her, Makki,” he sobbed, clutching at his own shirt. A broken noise pulled itself from Takahiro’s throat and he wrapped himself around Matsukawa, rocking them both gently.
“No, Issei, you didn’t,” he whispered. “You didn’t fail her. She got seven more years than we thought, and she got to live them. Really live them, not just spend them in a hospital bed. You gave her so much, Issei.”
“It wasn’t enough.” Takahiro didn’t say anything, just held Matsukawa tighter.
It had probably been another hour or so when Oikawa joined them, making room for himself in the blanket nest and laying his head in Matsukawa’s lap.
“I sent a message to my brother,” he said softly. “He’ll take care of the final expenses.”
“Oikawa, I can’t-”
“It’s already done,” Oikawa interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.”
Matsukawa started crying again at that point, and Takahiro’s heart clenched. He pressed his face into Matsukawa’s shoulder, trying not to think about the day they’d first learned that Akemi was sick, that Akemi was dying, that Akemi had months, weeks, maybe days left to live. He tried not to think of Matsukawa, seventeen and desperate, suggesting a plan that was suicide and then telling Takahiro not to come along. Matsukawa, eighteen and weeping in Oikawa’s arms, because the treatment they’d traded his jewelery for was working. Matsukawa, twelve and wide-eyed, staring down at his brand new baby sister while the doctors tried and failed to save their mother.
Iwaizumi came, and with him a bitter sort of solace. There was no word that could take it all away, no magic phrase that could bring Akemi back to life, so Iwaizumi said nothing. He just wrapped one arm around Matsukawa’s waist and ran his fingers through Oikawa’s hair and watched the universe go by. Eventually Matsukawa’s tears ran out, and a clean, empty sort of silence settled over the four of them. Takahiro closed his eyes and let himself drift in it.
When he woke, Oikawa was gone and Takahiro was curled around Matsukawa’s back, both their heads pillowed on Iwaizumi’s thigh. Watari was sitting near their feet, Yahaba lying beside him and Kunimi on Iwaizumi’s other side. Someone was humming, a half-familiar melody that made Takahiro think of the botanical gardens that and Matsukawa had seen once with Matsukawa’s parents, before everything fell apart. The riot of colors from fifty different systems, the butterflies and colorful birds flitting here and there, the soft music that seemed to come from the ground itself. The way Matsukawa had smiled and handed his mother a fallen blossom to tuck in her long dark hair. The pain, the grief he had pushed down in favor of holding Matsukawa through his came rushing back all at once and he squeezed his eyes closed, pressing closer to Matsukawa’s back and Iwaizumi’s thigh and wishing for the impossible.
-
Akemi was laid out in a silver dress, so light and delicate it looked like butterfly wings. Her beautiful hair, so much like her mother’s, was braided an coiled atop her head and woven through with silvery chains and precious stones. It was a pyre fit for a princess, and Takahiro’s throat burned at the sight of it.
He had overheard Oikawa planning the entire thing, whispering with Iwaizumi that she was getting a royal funeral, no matter what his brother had to say. That, in Oikawa’s mind anyway, being sister to the prince’s consort made her royalty. That just being someone Matsukawa loved made her precious in the universe. Takahiro had left then, to go find something useful to do, wondering the entire time why the hole in his chest felt so big.
It was a Temrisian funeral, but Matsukawa hadn’t objected. He had been born on Masaa, with no one culture of his own to cling to, and no energy to come up with anything else to do. According to Temrisian tradition, Akemi’s family was supposed to light the pyre and send her spirit back to the universe, but when Matsukawa took up the torch, he hesitated.
“Hiro,” he whispered. Takahiro opened his mouth to protest, but Matsukawa cut him off with a look, holding the torch out. He took it, settling his hand atop Matsukawa’s, and together they lit the oil-soaked wood. Whatever wounded animal had taken up residence in Takahiro’s chest howled in pain as they watched the fire catch and spread. He bowed his head and let the priest take the torch away, feeling like his lungs had been replaced with the growing flames. Matsukawa twined their fingers together and squeezed, and Takahiro squeezed back.
“Why did you do that?” Takahiro asked, late that night when they were lying in bed with Oikawa snoring against Matsukawa’s back and Iwaizumi on watch on the bridge.
“Do what?” Matsukawa murmured. He was running his fingers through Takahiro’s hair, watching the movement with eyes rimmed red.
“Give me the torch,” Takahiro said. “I thought it was tradition for family to-” he trailed off, watching in amazement as a smile stretched across Matsukawa’s face.
“You’re dumb,” he murmured. Takahiro made a strangled noise that was meant to be a question. Matsukawa’s smile settled, something not quite happy, but not quite anything else either. “Takahiro,” he whispered. “Hiro. Do you not realize that she was your sister too?” The creature in Takahiro’s chest, which had quieted but not left since the funeral, screamed in pain, and Takahiro let out a sob. Matsukawa cooed quietly to him, pulling him to his chest and wrapping himself around him.
It was the first time Takahiro had cried since they’d heard the news, and now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. He tried to keep quiet, tried to stuff it all back down, but the tears kept coming and soon he was shaking and sobbing and gasping in Matsukawa’s arms, and Oikawa was crawling around to the other side of the bed so that he could press himself against Takahiro’s back, folding him in warmth and soft murmurs and gentle kisses dropped to his crown and the back of his neck and Takahiro sobbed harder. He howled, letting the creature’s pain tear his throat ragged on its way out of him. By the time he had cried himself out, the front of Matsukawa’s shirt was soaked through and Iwaizumi had traded shifts with Kyoutani and there was nothing left inside Takahiro at all. He took a shuddering breath, filling the emptiness with the scent of Matsukawa and Oikawa and Iwaizumi and the home they’d built. He and the creature both fell asleep surrounded by warmth and comfort, tired and hurting, but mending.
Title: This Whole ‘Mutually Beneficial Relationship’ Thing
Chapters: 1
Pairing: matsuhanaiwaoi
Rating: Teen and Up
Length: 2k
Tags: phone call, long distance, swearing, #madbants, like two mentions of sex, angst and fluff
Summary:
Iwaizumi looks up from the TV when he hears his phone going off. He frowns when he doesn’t recognize the number so he mutes the TV and answers.
“Hello?”
He’s bombarded with sound and he has to pull the phone away from his ear.
