The woman who runs the local coffee shop, Deliah, once told me her biggest pet peeve—people not pushing their chairs in. I told her mine—small talk.
Now, I do small talk. I know it's just a basic part of human life.
But I crave deep conversation and connection.
So, naturally, Deliah shifted the conversation to perimenopause.
No, this post is not about perimenopause... keep reading, if you like, to see what we discussed today.
Today when I walked in, she jokingly told her employee managing the till that I loved small talk. I responded that I was happy to move all the chairs out for her. We laughed.
Then she said, "Oh! You're going to love this!" and ran to grab a legal-sized beige folder.
I already knew what it was... her signed Separation Agreement. She's been waiting so long, and her bastard ex finally signed it.
In the State of Virginia, Divorce and Separation are weird. You have to wait a year to file for Divorce, but you can get a signed Separation Agreement at any time that basically acts as the framework of the Divorce.
And once it's signed, you're as good as Divorced without the final stamp.
Sometimes this is an easy process.
Sometimes it's an absolute beast.
For me, it's been somewhere in between. See, I started out by going to my lawyer to get a Separation Agreement draft, hoping my ex and I could sort it out without either of us retaining a lawyer.
That's right. I never retained a lawyer.
Now, I have one that I can retain.
But I need to use the money I have to care for my children, not argue by proxy with my abusive ex.
And we might finally have a framework for our Separation Agreement.
What does that mean? Well, more stability for everyone involved. Not going to get into the details, here, but I talked to my lawyer's office, and they're good with everything my ex and I discussed.
And once he signs if a cute guy flirts with me, I can flirt back without anxiety. Because my lawyer discourages dating without a signed Agreement in case we go to court... keeps things from getting muddied.
It's not like I need a guy to feel complete.
My healing journey has been about me.
But having the option if I happened to meet someone amazing is nice. It's nice to have the option.
Plus, I'm a theater kid and flirting is part of how we communicate, damnit! And I'd love to just... have guy friendships again without my ex accusing me of wanting them.
A little background—any time I built a friendship with a guy who wasn't my husband, he'd accuse me of cheating. He'd talk about how handsome the guy is, and how I must want to be with them.
So, I'd retreat from the friendship.
Because I was never gonna cheat.
But I couldn't have him thinking I would.
It was an isolation technique. It kept me sequestered away from really beautiful friendships that meant a lot to me.
I've always had guy friends.
More than gals!
And while my ex could stand the ones I made before him, he meddled in any that started after we wed.
Literally the first thing he accused me of when he first received the Separation Agreement was having a guy on the side. I shit you not.
Like, hello! Demisexual, fiercely loyal, 1-1 relationship girlie here. But that just shows how little he knew me or wanted to know me.
And soon I could have a signed document that really frees me from all of that. Can you imagine, loves!? Freedom!?
I'm so happy for Deliah.
It's been a long time coming.
And as I grabbed my dirty chai latte, she and I smiled and pointed at one another. "Me, next!" "You, next!"
"Superhero. Superhero, stop. You need medical attention as well."
"No— No, I'm fine— I have— I have to go with them— Please let me go with them—"
Caretaker stumbled a couple steps away from Medic in the direction of Civilian, but they lost balance and almost fell. Before they hit the ground, Medic caught them.
"Superhero, come on." Medic started to pull Caretaker away from Civilian.
"No— Please— I'm fine! I'll be fine! Just let me go with them!" Despite being hardly strong enough to stand after their lapse in control, Caretaker tried to push Medic away, fighting to be with Civilian. "You can treat me when we get back to base— Please— I need to be with them!"
"Superhero, there's not enough room in the ambulance for you to go with them." Medic said, exasperated.
"There is!" Caretaker insisted, falling to their knees in an attempt to slip out of Medics hold. The tactic worked, but Caretaker couldn't get back up. When they realized this, they let out a sob, clutching at the ground, their nails scraping over the concrete. "Please— I have to!"
"Why? Who are they to you?" Medic asked, pulling Caretaker back to their feet and letting them lean against their shoulder. "There really isn't enough room in the ambulance. They need any extra space they have in order to move and start treating them."
Caretaker clung tightly to Medic, leaning on them heavily. Crying was quickly sapping the rest of their strength. "They can't die— Not like this. Please, not like this..."
"Superhero, you need medical treatment. Trust your team. If anyone can help Civilian, it's them."
"Take me back to base." Caretaker pleaded, voice soft.
I Never Writ, Nor No Man Ever Loved (Ushijima x Reader)
Pairing: Ushijima/Reader
Prompt/Summary: Shakespeare wasn’t wrong, you’re just afraid of admitting the truth. Alternatively, Ushijima Wakatoshi’s first love never died.
Tags: Angst, Haikyuu Timeskip Spoilers
Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, You might wanna reread the ending of “All The World Drops Dead”, I gave Ushijima’s mom a name, Ushijima’s a rich boi, Bold Italicized sentences are excerpts from the poem “Sonnet 116” by William Shakespeare
Warnings: Swearing, Heavy read, Author doesn’t know how off-seasons work, Mentions of separation
Part of A Sensitivity to Ephemera
Ushijima Wakatoshi was your antithesis, in a sense, and somewhere in the sky, Cupid laughs.
Way to go for putting the most incompatible people ever, am I right?
You found beauty in the temperance of words. Enjoyed their sheer ability to paint a hundred stories with only strokes and letters. Words meant everything and nothing all at once, and snippets of different stories appeared with each changing context. Ushijima, on the other hand, found beauty in the directness of words. Observed in the brutal honesty that constantly leaves his lips. He preferred to have it all laid bare, no hidden meaning, no ulterior motive. What you see is what you get.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love—
It was with words that you two ever even met, back in your first year at Shiratorizawa. Ushijima was not the best at literature, or any subject aside from Physical Education, and you were the panacea that the concerned teachers had offered as a remedy for the ace. It was a rocky start, but eventually, the relationship had grown into something more.
A literary genius and an athletic prodigy.
A master of language and her stumbling apprentice.
And eventually, a poet and her muse.
You never thought it would work out, but somehow, it did. And you were thankful that it did because you wouldn’t be where you are today. Standing in front of a large window overlooking the city, reminiscing on the events that led you to your present reality.
—Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Ushijima comes up from behind you and grips your hips with his large hands before he presses a tender kiss on your nape. “What’s on your mind?”
You smile as you turn around in his grasp to wrap your arms around his neck. “Nothing much.”
Ushijima raises a brow as he moves his hands from your hips to your waist. “By nothing, I’m guessing you mean anything and everything.”
You grin as the two of you begin to sway to the silence. Dancing to nothing but the sound of your breaths and the noise from the city below. “You know me too well.”
“You haven’t changed a bit.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.
You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms tighter around Ushijima’s neck to pull him closer to you. The telltale signs of lovesickness had been set in motion in your body once more: warming cheeks, speeding heartbeats, and crashing lips.
As you find yourself pulled deeper into Ushijima’s embrace, you wish for the world to freeze this moment. Unmoving. Unchanging. Immortalized in your memory and for the rest of your waking reality.
A few days after your engagement with Ushijima, you found yourself in the place where it all started. Shiratorizawa had not changed at all since you left. Sure, the notices hung on the wall, the faces that roamed the rooms, and the shape of the shrubbery had changed, but everything else was the same as you remember it.
You shut your eyes, take a deep breath, and it’s almost as if you’re transported back to 2012. A year of loss, victory, stagnancy, and change. So many had happened, and it all rushed past you in the blink of an eye.
“Love—“
“Yes!” You stand up straight from the bench, eyes wide open in an attempt to pull away from your little flashback. “Yes, hi. Sorry, Toshi, I was… Lost in thought. Are you done talking to Washijo-sensei?”
“Yes.” Ushijima chuckles softly as he flicks your forehead lightly. “You should be more observant of your surroundings. What if it wasn’t me who found you?”
“But you did, didn’t you?” You grin up at him only to see him looking ahead.
You turn around and your eyes land upon a familiar sight.
Warmth floods your cheeks and Ushijima laughs as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “I remember Tendou catching us there.”
You smile fondly at the memory as you look at the tree beside the volleyball gym. “Not my fault you kissed me all of a sudden.”
“Not my fault you look absolutely irresistible.” Ushijima’s warm breath tickles you as he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, placing a quick kiss before he lays his chin back onto the top of your head.
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
Ushijima Kimiko’s eyes were burning holes into your skull. It was clear from the moment you had stepped into the house that you were not welcome. That you were not the one she wanted for her son.
There’s bitterness in the way she looks, the way she acts, and the way she speaks. She’s eloquent, so well-spoken that you wouldn’t have noticed the insinuation of each backhanded compliment she threw your way. Her son seemed to be oblivious to the silent war of undertones and context buried underneath your exchange of seemingly harmless words. It had gone on for the entirety of dinner, his mother unforgiving and you unrelenting. If she thought her disapproval would send you running, then she was sorely mistaken.
After dinner, Ushijima leads you to his room. A place you had not acquainted yourself with because this was the first time Ushijima had brought you into his home. Your lover sits on the bed, watching you while you familiarize yourself with the setting.
“So this is where you grew up.” You smile to yourself, choosing to bury the events that transpired earlier into the darkest corners of your mind in hopes that it would be consumed into the void. “Nice room.”
Your eyes trace over every inch of the room, taking in what you can to better understand the man that you were soon going to marry. It’s plain, nothing revealing anything personal save for the pictures lined up and hung on the wall.
There were many different faces. A young girl, a few boys, some familiar, some unknown. There were also pictures of some teenagers, particularly the members of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club.
“Is something bothering you, love?” Ushijima asks from his bed where he’s currently seated. “You haven’t been talking much since dinner.”
You froze on the spot, having an internal debate on whether or not you should voice your concerns.
“Come here.” Ushijima beckons you to come closer and you do. You stand between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders as you continue to look at the pictures behind him. Ushijima reaches for your hand on his shoulder, intertwining your hands there as he plays with the ring on your finger. “Something’s wrong.”
“Toshi…” You sigh, giving in. “I don’t think your mom likes me very much.”
It’s Ushijima’s turn to tense up. “My mom doesn’t like anyone.”
“Yeah well… I think she hates me.” You fiddle with Ushijima’s collar. “God, I hope not. I really wanted her to like me too…”
“In time.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls at your hand to make you cup his cheek. “But for now, let’s talk about it at home.”
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Ushijima sits alone on the couch, waiting for you to come back. You had left after a heated exchange, unable to stand being in the same room as him, it seems. A few weeks had passed since your visit to his childhood home, and things in your relationship have been somewhat rocky since then. While Ushijima wanted his family to accept you, he knew that their disapproval wouldn’t stop him from pursuing a life with you. You were the person who stood by his side when nobody else was there. The world would have to end before he let you go.
But you didn’t understand that. You were still stuck in the events that transpired at the dinner table while Ushijima was already walking towards your future. He knew he shouldn’t have invalidated your concern simply because he could stomach going against his mother. He just wanted this argument to end, he had an Olympic game tomorrow, and he didn’t want to walk in there with a heavy heart that would most definitely affect his performance.
The ringing of the doorbell pulls Ushijima from his thoughts. He stands up and walks towards the door to answer it, wondering who it could be since he did not remember inviting anyone.
When he opens the door, it is not noticeable, but there is shock written on his face. “Sato-san, what brings you here?”
“Ah, Waka-kun! Your mom told me I’d be able to find you here.” Sato pushes a paper bag into Ushijima’s hands, her eyes disappearing into lines as she gives him a bright smile. “I just got back from Cali, and I wanted to give you your souvenir and some ingredients from Kimiko-san…”
“Ah, thank you.” Ushijima gives a soft smile as he grips the paper bag tighter in his arms. He knew that his mother was in the area, visiting so that she could watch her son’s game tomorrow. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?”
“Ah no! It’s fine.” Sato waves her hands, smiling as she turns the offer down. “I have to go meet up with a friend.”
“Ok then.” Ushijima nods. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“Same here.” Sato moves to walk off. “I’ll be off then.”
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
With his bending sickle’s compass come...
When you come back home, Ushijima is quick to pull you into his arms. A string of apologies falls from his lips, weaving their way into your hearts as you melt into your fiancé’s embrace. The walk had cleared your mind enough, and you knew that Ushijima had a point. If he was willing to brave it out despite his mother’s disapproval, then you would do so as well.
After all had been said, and the issue was closed, you both retired for the night. Ushijima lays on his side of the bed, and you on yours. You turn to your side and are met by Ushijima’s broad back. Scooching closer, you wrap your arms around him, press a kiss onto his nape, and mumble, “I love you.”
You wait a few seconds for a reply, but you are met with silence. You sighed and wrapped your arms tighter around him, nuzzling your face between his shoulder blades. He was probably asleep.
Ushijima was wide awake. Memories of a young girl with bright eyes and rosy cheeks running through his mind. And as he loses himself to vivid images of the past, sleep never laid itself upon his eyes that night.
The next day, you make Hayashi rice from the ingredients that his friend had delivered, and you wish him luck.
Apparently, that luck wasn’t enough because the Japan team had lost to Argentina that day, and as much as you wanted to comfort Ushijima, his mother had gotten to him first and was now talking to him inside the stadium.
You waited outside of the venue, sitting on the steps that led up to the doors that opened to the realm of competition and Olympic athletes. You could only wait it out, not wanting to bother your fiancé and his mother in fear that the latter might attack your very being once more.
The sound of footsteps comes closer, and you turn around quickly in hopes to see your lover, but you are met with the sight of their trainer instead.
“Oh, Iwaizumi-san!” You stand up to bow. You notice the red at the corners of his eyes as if he had been crying. You don’t ask. It was normal to be upset after a loss. “You guys fought well, Iwaizumi-san.”
Iwaizumi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He moves to sit beside you on the steps, and you follow suit. “Hey, L/N-san…”
“Hm?” You reply with a hum. While Iwaizumi and you were not close, you two were still familiar enough with each other to carry a casual conversation. “What is it?”
“You’re a writer.” Iwaizumi states, but there is hesitance in his tone.
You can’t help but snort. “No shit.”
Iwaizumi glares at you, and you suppress a laugh. “Ok, I’ll stop, but yeah, I am. Why?”
“That means you’re good at the poetic symbolism shit right?” Iwaizumi asks for confirmation and you resist the urge to laugh at his choice of words.
“I like to think that I am good at the—“ You use your hands to show air quotes, “—poetic symbolism shit as you said.”
“Does first love never really die?” Iwaizumi asks and you nearly choke on air.
Iwaizumi is looking at you expectantly, and you look like a deer caught in the headlights. Out of all the things that could happen in your life, talking to Iwaizumi Hajime about his love life was not something you even thought of ever happening. Not even a single bit. It’s silent, and you realize that Iwaizumi is waiting for a reply.
You pause to think, not wanting to give Iwaizumi a half-assed answer that could make whatever he was going through worse. It seemed like Iwaizumi was more hung up over this than he was over the game they just lost, and while you don’t know the full story, you realize its gravity. “It’s something people like to say… Haven’t quite understood it because I’ve never felt it…”
You smile sadly. It seems like Iwaizumi wasn’t given the similar luxury of living out the rest of his life with his first love. “First love never dies, but true love will bury it alive.”
“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.
“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.” You sigh as you pat Iwaizumi in the back. “You never really know if it’s true love, Iwaizumi-san. Tomorrow promises nothing, after all. The only time you’ll ever truly know is when you’re a breath away from death and reliving your entire life.”
“Fucking hell.” Iwaizumi mumbles to himself. “Love is hard.”
“It is.” You smile. “But whatever the situation, Iwa-san… Don’t deprive yourself of the opportunity to move on, yeah? It’s kind of like volleyball.”
Iwaizumi turns to look at you. “How so?”
“Well, when you get blocked during games, do you stop spiking for the rest of the game?” You raise a brow.
It’s silent until suddenly, it’s not. Iwaizumi is laughing. He’s standing up, and he pulls you up before enveloping you in a hug. “You genius, I hate that you have a point.”
You reach around to pat his back, happy that your words somehow enlightened him. You knew that this enlightenment was brief and that somewhere along the way, Iwaizumi would be tempted to give up, but you were glad to have at least given him a way out. “As I said, I’m good at the poetic symbolism shit.”
A cough interrupts your little hug session with Iwaizumi, leading to the both of you pulling away and turning to the source of the noise.
It seems like the universe just loved screwing you over because standing at the top of the steps were three people: two familiar faces, and one that was teetering between remembrance and oblivion.
Ushijima Kimiko looked smugly angry. Her son looked confused, tinges of betrayal creeping into his eyes. The young woman beside them on the other hand looked absolutely livid as her eyes flitted between you and Iwaizumi.
“How scandalous.” You could hear Ushijima Kimiko whisper to her son. “Are you sure this is the woman you want to marry?”
You pretend you don’t hear it, forcing a smile and a bow. “It’s nice to see you again, Ushijima-san.”
Iwaizumi on the other hand does not let the comment pass. “There’s nothing scandalous about the situation, Ushijima-san. I simply asked my friend for advice and showed my appreciation. She loves your son too much to ever even think of looking at other people.”
You notice how the stances of Ushijima and the young woman relax.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ushijima Kimiko’s smile is tightly lipped.
The drive to Ushijima’s penthouse was silent and absolutely tense. Ushijima’s knuckles were practically white with how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You can see the creases between his brows deepening as he clenches his jaw in both frustration and concentration.
“Who was the girl from a while ago? She looked familiar.” It was a seemingly harmless question on your end. You didn’t want to talk about the game because they did lose. You didn’t want to bring up his mother because that would be another argument. You didn’t want to talk about Iwaizumi because you figured that maybe the hug you shared was the reason for his frustration. So you decided to settle with the one thing in that situation that had no heavy feelings attached.
Well, you were sorely mistaken.
Ushijima tenses up before he relaxes. “She’s my childhood friend. She used to be my closest friend until middle school.”
“Ah.” You nod to yourself. “Cool.”
“She means nothing to me now, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ushijima quickly added.
“Ooooh, did little Toshi have a crush on her?” You tease, trying to use this opportunity to lighten the mood.
Ushijima tenses up before a fond smile makes its way to his face for the first time since this morning. “She was there for me throughout my childhood. She helped me get through my parent’s separation.”
You didn’t know why, but you finally realized why she looked familiar. It was minimal, very minimal… But there was a large similarity between her facial and body structure and yours. And as you realize this, the conversation you had with Iwaizumi echoes disturbingly through your head.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Although they had been given a month-long break after the game, Ushijima was still out most of the time. Some part of you was bitter over the fact that your fiancé chose to spend more time spiking balls and playing with his teammates (that he already plays with on a regular basis), but you don’t pressure him to stay. If that made him happy, then you were happy with it as well. But still, some part of you wishes that he would just stay in with you and cuddle while you type your next piece on the laptop.
Later that night, Ushijima comes home with his arm slung around Kageyama who looked like he had just walked through hell and back. There’s a dopey grin on his face as he reaches out for you and crashes his body against yours. The smell of alcohol fills your nostrils, and you scrunch your nose up in disgust.
“Please take care of Ushijima-san.” The setter bows lightly before straightening up.
“Thank you for bringing him home.” You smile at Kageyama who blushes a deep red.
“I’ll take my leave.” Kageyama bows and walks off.
You shut the door once you see that Kageyama has made it to the elevator.
“You’re so pretty…” Ushijima’s grin is wide as he cups your cheeks. Nuzzling his nose against yours before peppering kisses all over your face. “Can’t believe you’re here…”
Ushijima presses you against the door and leans down to capture your mouth into his. He presses against you, grabbing at your wrists to wrap your arms around his neck as he pushes his mouth harder against yours. There’s desperation in the way he digs his fingers into your hips as he lifts you and pulls at your legs to wrap it around his waist.
“I love you so much…” Ushijima whispers between kisses as he nips at your neck. “Don’t ever leave me again… Fuck.”
Ushijima’s hand creeps under your shirt, trailing on your skin while his other hand supports you against the door. As good as it felt to be finally receiving attention from your lover, you grab at his wrist to stop him. “Toshi, you’re drunk. Let’s go to bed first, yeah?”
“What happened to Waka-kun?” There’s a pout on Ushijima’s face, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t confused by the words that left his mouth.
Choosing to chalk it up to his drunken stupor, you just smile, unwrap your legs from his waist and bring him to bed. “You need to sleep.”
Once you two were settled in bed, Ushijima nuzzled himself into your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, positioning himself to prepare for sleep.
His breath tickles your neck as he mumbles, “Don’t ever leave me, please.”
“I won’t.” You smile as you sink deeper into his embrace. “I love you too much to do that.”
“You love me?” Ushijima was a talkative, sappy kind of drunk, it seems. “Really?”
“Very much.” You mumble as you intertwine your fingers with his.
“You’ll stay with me forever, right?” Ushijima’s voice is weak, almost as if he was afraid of what your answer could be.
“Of course.” You answer without a second thought.
You can feel Ushijima kiss your neck before his breathing starts to slow. It’s a whisper, the way he says it, lips brushing as he lightly mouths the words into your skin, but you hear it clear as day.
“I love you, Fuyumi-chan…”
If this be error and upon me prov’d,
You stare blankly at the Instagram profile on your laptop screen, your hands on the table as you focus all your emotions into clenching them as tight as possible. The apartment is quiet, but the noise in your head is a different story. Voices, faces, and emotions flood your brain, each wave stronger than the last as it threatens to drown you into the void of your head. You briefly wonder where it all went wrong.
When Ushijima decided to get drunk? No, it wasn’t.
When Iwaizumi hugged you after their loss at the Olympics? No… It wasn’t that either.
Maybe when you had visited Ushijima’s childhood home? No. Although it seemed like it went downhill from there… It wasn’t that.
It all went wrong the moment you allowed yourself to fall in love with Ushijima Wakatoshi.
“Good morning.” Ushijima smiles as he sits across from you on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.
You force a smile. “Slept well?”
Ushijima freezes for a split second before recovering. “Had a good dream.”
“Good for you.” You don’t know how much longer you can pretend like your relationship wasn’t falling apart. “About the wedding—“
“We’re having it in 2 months right?” Ushijima interrupts you, and for some reason, it looks like he’s trying to avoid something. “I’m still on vacation, so I’ll be able to help you and the coordinator plan it—“
“Let’s call it off.” You interrupt with a smile.
“Do you want to move it to a later date?” Ushijima furrows his brows as he reaches over, grabbing your left hand, his heart sinking when his thumb brushes over skin instead of silver on your finger. “Where’s your ring?”
“Wakatoshi,” You start with a smile, your voice as steady as it could be while a war rages in your head, “I don’t want to get married anymore.”
For someone who understood words best when they were said directly, Ushijima Wakatoshi was having a lot of trouble understanding you right now.
Ushijima’s frown deepens, but he continues to speak casually. “That’s fine. We don’t have to be married to love each other, right? That’s just a formal ceremony—“
“I’m leaving, Wakatoshi.” You attempt to pull your hand away from his grasp, but Ushijima holds it tighter.
There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re almost tempted to stay. Ushijima crying was not a common sight. You had only seen it happen once in the entirety of your relationship, and your heart breaks at that thought.
“When will you come back?” His voice is desperate as he looks into your eyes, searching for any sign indicating that you’ll stay. He finds none.
You can only smile. “I’m sorry.”
You stand up and shut your laptop, walking off to your room to pack your things. You didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be. You didn’t want to see him cry, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. If this was love then it seems that Shakespeare was wrong, or maybe what you have isn’t love. But if it isn’t love, then why did every single step away from Ushijima’s crying figure feel heavier and more painful than the last? Why did you yearn for him despite the stabbing in your chest?
When Ushijima hears the door of your shared bedroom close, he opens your laptop, wondering if he’ll find an answer there.
And he did.
Sato Fuyumi’s unmoving face stares back at him, a smile etched onto her face as the sun shines brightly behind her. At that moment, Ushijima understood. Last night was no dream, it seems, but he had blurred the lines between fantasy and reality and that led to the inevitable decay of whatever it was that you two had. With that, Ushijima stood up and walked to your shared room, one last time.
“I’m sorry.” Ushijima states from the doorway. He expected you to be packing your things, but he didn’t expect that seeing it would hurt this much. It was almost as if you were ripping his chest open with each clothing you pulled from your shared cabinet.
“I know.” You whisper, unable to trust your voice.
There’s silence as Ushijima sits beside you on the floor.
“Toshi...” The name feels heavy in your mouth as you speak. “Did you—“
A sob somehow manages to break free, and now you were crying.
Ushijima pulls you into his chest, guilt and despair filling his chest as he feels you sob and shake in his hold. He wishes he could make it all go away, but how could he when he was the reason you’re this way in the first place?
“Please tell me the truth…” You grip at his shirt, your forehead pressed onto his collarbone as you let the tears fall one after the other. “Did you… Did you ever love me?”
Ushijima answers with no hesitation. “I did.”
You cry harder into his chest as you mourn the lifetime that could’ve been yours. Images of a distant life fill your head: a home in the countryside, a young boy, a young girl, a loving husband. You allow yourself to bask in the illusion for a second before you pull yourself away. You were afraid that if you had stayed any longer, you’d never be able to walk away.
“We can make it work, Y/N.” Ushijima pleads one last time. “This is just something we have to work through. We’ll get past this and then we’ll live the rest of our lives together. We’ll go to the countryside when I retire, raise our kids there—“
You cut him off. “Stop.”
“You could write from there. It’s peaceful, no one will disturb—“
You cry harder into his chest, gripping tighter at his shirt. “Stop please, just stop already—“
“We can still make it work, Y/N. Just stay—“
“Just stop!” You pull away, daring to look into Ushijima’s eyes. “It’s never going to work. We would be living a lie if I agreed to all of that. It’s clear that you’re still in love with her, and you always will be!”
Ushijima’s shoulders slump down in defeat, and he lets you cry it all in front of him.
“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.
“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.”
Your own words haunt you.
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
You realize it now, looking back.
Years of denying the poet only for you to agree with him in the end. It took you 3 years, but now, you were ready to admit that Shakespeare was right in all he said about love. Everything around you was just pointing in a different direction, you just didn’t realize it when you were still in the middle of it all.
It was a mess you no longer wanted to revisit, but you brave through it for your friend.
You watch the love of your life mourn a lifetime that could’ve been his.
Ushijima Wakatoshi watches as the love of his life goes down the aisle.
Sato Fuyumi smiles as she sees the love of her life waiting at the end of it.
Iwaizumi Hajime looks ahead one last time as the love of his life sits somewhere in the crowd.
And somewhere in the sky, Cupid laughs.
A/N: I feel like this should be classified under “Angst/No One Gets A Happy Ending”. Also, I finally gave Iwa some closure AHHHHH I hope you guys liked this one! Feel free to drop my by ask, I’m always up for a discussion, after all. 💖
Remus: ... When I was a little kid, I was split from my brother and tossed aside like I didn’t matter, then both of the people I trusted the most left me all alone when they knew I already had abandonment issues!
『 chris evans. thirty-five. cis man. he/him 』 oh heavens, is that SAMUEL CONNOR from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -CYNICAL & -IMPULSIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool OWNER OF FIX-IT-ALL AUTO REPAIR SHOP and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +RELAXED & +APPROACHABLE. i hope i see them around again! 『 di. 24. gmt. she/her. 』
hi everyone, super excited to join the family! i'm di and i'm bringing you sam here who is a bit of a mess between a good and a bad person ;) a bit about him will be under the read more and by all means please feel free to dm me for plots!
(( TW: death, divorce, separation))
@mapleviewstarters
Born and bred in Mapleview, North Carolina. Parents moved here for reasons unknown to him other than his father buying the fix-it-all auto repair shop.
Only child, grew up with parents in an unstable marriage and with the almost imaginative figure of a rotten rich grandfather that lived in California, because he never met the man, until the age of eleven Samuel never asked many questions about him as his parents would never have a lot to say about him.
At age eleven the old man dies and Samuel learns that his father didn't inherit a single penny from his grandfather, instead it had all been given to his uncle, leaving the family shocked and his parents relationship only went downhill from there.
Mom eventually leaves without never officially asking for a divorce which leaves his father a little hope she might come back, but she never does and his father starts to rely on Sam to run the shop with him.
Sam grows up a bit frustrated that he never got the chance to follow whatever he wanted to be in school, as his father only thought about being sucessful and one day pass it on to him. As a teenager he was rebellious, got shouted at by a lot of old people, did a lot of stuff he doesn't regret but typical of a misunderstood and frustrated teen.
Thought about running away but never had the courage to leave his father alone and so he stayed in town and graduated high school, working at his father's shop until the old man couldn't make it to work. He's owned the shop for the past ten years.
Part of him is still haunted by the fact that he seemed to be a puppet and could never choose his own path but at the same time he loves what he does too. He is a good friend to his friends and can come off as an arrogant guy to those that won't make a good impression at first, though he puts the customer service mask on at work always, obviously.
He is a really good boss and loves the people he works with, always making sure they have everything they need. Will spend most of his time at the shop, though.
His pronouns are he/him, gender cis man and he's straight.
Looking for all kinds of connections and plots!! 👀
I remember the first night after I made the decision to leave my abusive marriage—I had the best sleep in ages.
So, it's fitting that on this, the 8 month mark of getting out, my Littlest had one of her best nights of sleep since the Separation.
That night was scary.
It was traumatic.
It was hard.
After the police took my ex to the hospital for a mental health evaluation, and the officer told me how to request a Protective Order, I packed my kids up and got us out within 30 minutes.
We fled our home in the dark of night.
Because we didn't know if they would keep him.
And the way he glared at me in front of the cops was terrifying. Things were already escalating, and I was terrified for myself and my children.
We hopped locations for two weeks through the worst of it, and each time my daughter and I shared a bed while the twins took another. So, she got used to me being a source of comfort.
Every night since then, she comes in around 11-1, unable to settle again in her own bed. But, it's been getting harder for me because my sleep's been so inconsistent.
We've tried a lot of things to get her back into a rhythm, but I think what helped was she and I discussing a gameplan—what to do if she came in early enough that I was awake enough to take her back to bed.
My kids love structure and having an idea of what's coming.
Monday night into Tuesday morning, she didn't come in until 3AMish. This morning, the sun was up before she made it to my bed around 6AM.
She took herself back to her room, and I found her in her own bed when it was time to wake for school. She was smiling and she was so proud. "I stayed in my own bed until 6!" my 8-year-old exclaimed.
And I tried not to tear up because I know that she's feeling safe, again. She is feeling confident, again. All of this has been so hard and I know all my kids have done their best to handle it.
But they're kids.
And it's a lot.
But last night... she got good sleep.
And so did I. We both got good sleep.
As we enter this ninth month of Separation—and the creation of a new reality for my little family of four—I have the possibility of a signed Separation Agreement before my birthday, and we're making this house the home we want.
A home where we'll have many more good nights of sleep to come.
I haven't put out any mass notifications to folks in my life about my Separation and impending Divorce. You might think—Rachel... this is a public place.
Yes, fine. I know this isn't exactly private. But I'm a queen at compartmenalizing my life. So, I have one IRL friend—hi, Ali—who reads these blogs, and I first met her online.
I use my married name for work and for Facebook because I made so many work contacts there back when it was a useful platform. And I do have a "Work Instagram" using that name.
But my personal world? That's always been under my nickname—Esselle.
Mostly because my maiden name was too long to fit the old character limits on handles—first and last were 20 letters and back in the day, if you added the needed spaces and hyphen, it just wouldn't fit .
But, for whatever reason, I never wanted it under my married name. Weird how that worked out, eh?
So, you'll see RachelSL or RachelEsselle depending on if I was fast enough to get the first on whatever platform. And Starseneyes here in honor of my first Angelfire website—shoutout to the OGs!
That means the folks who only know me by my married name don't all know what's happened with me and my ex. And because we met shortly before my 19th birthday, a lot of our friends are shared.
There's one from college whose own divorce and second life I've followed for many years, now. She often posts incredibly inspirational Stories on Instagram that really resonate with where I am on my journey.
This week, I reached out to tell her how much of an inspiration she's been, how much I appreciate her, and the situation with me and my ex—who was her friend first.
Not only did she congratulate me, but she noted that she's five years "ahead of [me]", has found what she calls true love, and assured me that it will get better.
Tears gathered in my eyes. Because almost everywhere I've turned in the nearly 10 months since my Separation, I've been surrounded by love.
In two months and 11 days, I can file for Divorce. I'm hoping my ex will sign the Separation Agreement and we can finally go our separate ways as much as raising kids together allows.
And on the other side of it? I know I'll be loved.
My family and friends have already shown that.
I won't be condemned. I won't be shunned. I won't be isolated. I won't be chastised.
I'll be loved.
And, honestly, I can't wait for everyone to know. Because I know there'll be more folks like my old friend who'll congratulate me and share in the joy.
Thank you all for your support, love, and sharing the ride with me. I appreciate you more than you will ever know!
