mother nature just seems to hate you this month. you're sick and on your period.
yuuta's been an angel all day—fetching everything you’ve asked for without complaint, ordering the exact food your body suddenly craved, helping you run a bath just the right temperature, wiped snot from your face while you napped on him and helped you take your medicine. all done without an ounce of hesitation.
until now.
you roll onto your stomach, your head keened in the pillow, and look over your shoulder at him with sleepy eyes. “baby… my back feels kinda sore…” you mumble, voice soft and nasally and heavy with fatigue. “can you massage me please?”
yuuta freezes mid-motion while fixing the blanket around you. it's not that he doesn't want to help you, but a panicked thought shoots through his head—what if he presses too hard? what if he accidentally hurts you? he knows he’s stronger than he realises sometimes, and the idea of causing you pain by accident, makes him feel sick too.
“y-yeah… of course…” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.
you give him that sweet, sleepy smile, tilting your head to kiss the crown of his head. “thank you, babe.” your hand gestures lazily to the bottle of lotion on your bedside table. “just… until i fall asleep, okay?”
he nods, heart hammering, and picks up the lotion, pumping a generous amount into his hands. you roll your shirt up halfway to bare the small of your back for him, face sinking back into your pillow.
he shouldn't be this nervous. it isn't that big of a deal, he tells himself.
the moment his hands brush against your skin, you twitch slightly. he freezes, panic spreading across his features. “s-sorry—!” he starts, but you cut him off with a soft laugh.
“nono… the lotion's just cold,” you grin, the sound muffled by the pillow. “warm it up with your hands first.”
"oh..." he whispers sheepishly, rubbing the lotion between his palms, until the cream retains the warmth of his skin. he’s still trembling a little.
a tiny, muffled giggle escapes you as his fingertips finally glide over your back. you lift your head slightly, teasing, “baby… you’re tickling me.”
“s-sorry…” he whispers, gaze wide and vulnerable, eyes darting between your face and the curve of your back. he tries to press a little firmer.
“i’m not made of glass, yuuta,” you murmur, smile soft but encouraging. “it’s fine… you can press more. i won't break.”
he glances down at your back, his hands hesitating over the thin film of lotion on your skin. aloe and sakura fragranced. you apply it every night, he associates the smell with you and rest and safety. the smell he falls asleep to every night. he lets it fill his senses for a few seconds—comforting him. then, with a tiny breath, he whispers, “okay…” and presses a little harder, testing the pressure.
you exhale a soft sigh of blissful relief, tilting your face against the pillow, “mmm… that’s good. you can do a little firmer, though.”
his throat tightens at your words, and he swallows audibly, pressing down more. your back tenses, and a small squeak slips from your lips. his hands jerk away instantly like he's been burned, eyes wide in alarm.
“sorry, sorry! are you okay? i’ll stop—”
you let out a soft little whine, turning your head to look at him, “nooo… don’t stop. it feels nice. it’s just… tender there.”
relief floods his face, and he tentatively returns his hands, moving slower this time, careful but a little more confident. he leans close, voice soft. “i… i just don’t want to hurt you.”
you reach up and lightly grip his wrist, guiding his hands gently. “i know, baby… it’s okay. just… trust me.”
slowly, he starts moving with more assurance, each stroke firm yet careful, fingers tracing the lines of tension along your shoulders and lower back. you hum quietly, letting the sensation lull you.
after a while, he leans over your back, his chest brushing yours lightly as he murmurs, “you’re so soft… i never want to hurt you.”
you don't even look at him, eyes half-lidded, voice a sleepy whisper. “you don’t… you’re perfect, yuuta.”
he smiles shyly, warmth blooming in his chest, and continues until your breathing evens, until your body relaxes completely under his hands. eventually, you drift off, and he stays there a moment longer, tracing lazy circles on your back, memorising the softness of you, the steady rise and fall of your breathing, feeling utterly in love.
you're perfect, yuuta.
if that was true then why does yuuta now lay in bed alone? clutching that same pink and green bottle of lotion to his chest, the one thing you'd forgotten to pack up and take with you when you left.
his hands are already slick with it. it’s become part of his nightly ritual when the loneliness gets too loud.
think about you. cry.
breath in the lotion that he used to fall asleep to every night. cry.
coat his hands in it. cry some more.
when he closes his teary eyes and holds his hands to a distance it's almost like you're still here, still laying fast asleep beside him, and still in love with him.
but even yuuta knows better than to fool himself.
not after last time he'd seen you, when you'd looked at him not with that adoring smile that had been reserved for him and only him all this time.
but with such cold hatred in your eyes.
he'd realised far too late that what he feared wasn't hurting you on accident. it was losing you on accident.
and that, he already had. but at least the scent of aloe and sakura were there to make him feel safe again.
he presses his hands to his face and inhales it, letting it lie to him. just for a moment longer.
you've mentioned marriage to your childhood friend!yuta once when you guys both were younger. they said you're supposed to marry someone you loved and you loved your best friend so why not, right?
childhood friend!yuta who grew up anticipating no, knowing that he would be married to you one day.
childhood friend!yuta who was always so puzzled when you bring home different people and introduce them as your lover when he was clearly right there?
childhood friend!yuta who slowly loses hope when you excitedly tell him that you finally found the one. wasn't that supposed to be him?
childhood friend!yuta who almost talks you out of your relationship when he found out that the other guy said something hurtful to make you cry so bitterly.
childhood friend!yuta who realises he can't do that to you because he's seen the way you look at him, the way your eyes seemed to brighten up and the skin around it crinkle when you laugh because of him — someone that's not yuta.
childhood friend!yuta who accepts that you won't ever be his when you walk down the aisle and he's not the one standing at the end of it; but that's okay because to him, your happiness matters more than his own.
childhood friend!yuta who still can't help but yearn for your presence even after you move away from your house into a new one with your husband.
childhood friend!yuta who still has the small toy ring you gave him back when you guys were nothing but kids who didn't know any better. it hangs around his neck closely dangling next to his beating heart that just might as well stop when you tell him that you're expecting your first child.
this came to my mind while listening to about you by the 1975 hehe
hi again!! (ik I just sent in a request I just had another one LMFAOOO) im back bc I got another request/idea!! jjk men (..yuta n Megumi 🙏 n whoever else u want :3) who got into a nasty argument (could be from ur argument post but it doesn’t have to be connected to that post!!) and then gets really injured on a mission right after the argument! it’s up to you if reader + jjk men end up making up, or it could end on a angsty route of them anxiously waiting for reader to wake up while trying to think to ways to apologize with regret; doesn’t rlly matter!! do what you want 😛😛
n. first, i apologize this one took a very long time because i wanted to carefully hit the right spots and nail the each character. second, i only make 3 characters this time ‘cause each one of them is long enough to read. third, i wanna make you guys suffer <3 enjoy !!
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
megumi’s fingers trembled as he reached out to touch your hand, the memory of his harsh words replaying in his mind. “why didn’t i see it coming?” he muttered to himself, voice hardly above a whisper. the guilt was suffocating, the feeling that he had failed you as a partner, both in life and on the field, gnawing at him relentlessly.
he hadn’t slept since you were brought in, eyes red and heavy, his emerald pupils weren’t evident anymore with the dark circles underneath a testament to his vigil. every beep of the monitors felt like a countdown, each passing second a reminder of how fragile everything was. he kept running through what he could have done differently, how he could have prevented this from happening.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotion, repeating the words tremendously. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—“
“i’m so sorry. i never meant for this to happen. i never wanted to hurt you.”
his mind was filled with images of your smile, your laughter, and the way your eyes would light up when you were happy. he wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, to hear your voice, to have the chance to make things right.
the silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines. megumi’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble of fear and determination. he knew he had to find a way to apologize, to show you that he cared more than he had ever managed to express. but how could he make up for the pain he had caused? how could he prove to you that he was truly sorry?
he squeezed your hand gently, as if the simple touch could convey all the words he struggled to find. “please wake up,” he pleaded softly. “i need to tell you how much you mean to me. i need to show you that i can do better. that i will do better. please, just wake up.”
as the hours dragged on, megumi’s resolve only strengthened. he would make things right, no matter what it took. the door to your room opened, but megumi didn’t look up. his focus was entirely on you, silently willing you to open your eyes. he wouldn’t leave your side until you did. he couldn’t. the weight of his regret was too heavy, his love for you too deep.
“please,” he whispered again, each syllable filled with desperation. “come back to me.”
GOJO SATORU
“you’re always so damn reckless!” gojo had shouted, his voice echoing in the small office.
“maybe if you weren’t so arrogant all the time, you’d understand why!” you had snapped back, feeling the sting of his words cut deep.
now, the same guy sat by your hospital bed, his usually confident demeanor shattered. his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, blood seeping from where his nails dug into his palms. the sight of you lying there, pale and unmoving, tore at his heart. he cursed himself repeatedly, the words tumbling out in a desperate, angry whisper.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he muttered, voice breaking. “why the hell did this have to happen? why couldn’t i fucking save you?”
he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to give him some sign that you were still there with him. the argument replayed in his mind, each harsh word a dagger in his chest. he wanted to take it all back, to tell you how much he loved you and needed you.
“shit,” he hissed, slamming his fist into the armrest of the chair. “i’m supposed to be the strongest, but what the hell does that mean if i can’t even protect you?”
a hollow aching threatened to eat away at his chest, a gnawing remorse. tears blurred his vision as he looked at you, voice a broken whisper. “wake up. i want to apologize. i want you to know how sorry i am.”
the room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. gojo’s thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt, also his helplessness. he had faced countless curses and enemies without flinching, but this, seeing you like this, was unbearable.
he cursed again, the words raw and filled with pain. “damn it, why didn’t i stop you? why didn’t i fucking do something?”
his mind raced, trying to think of ways to make it right, to fix what had been broken. but all he could do was wait and hope. he reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his grip trembling.
“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “i love you. please, just wake up. i don’t know what i’ll do if you don’t.”
YUUTA OKKOTSU
yuta, who was normally expressive, was pale and drawn as he sat beside your bed. his voice was crushed by the weight of his remorse, and he was unable to speak. he was completely broken by the sight of you there, so still and vulnerable, in ways he never imagined. his fingers barely touched yours as he extended a shaking hand, fearing that the slightest touch could break you.
memories of the argument replayed in his mind, each moment seared into his consciousness. your angry words echoed in his ears, mingling with his own harsh retorts. he remembered the flash of hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you were done talking. he had let you walk away, his anger blinding him to the danger you were about to face.
tears welled up in yuta’s eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall. he had to be strong for you, even though you couldn’t sense a thing. the guilt gnawed at him, a relentless beast that whispered of his failures. he had promised to protect you, to be there for you, and yet here you were, injured and unresponsive, because he had let his anger get the better of him.
“it’s all my fault,” he grumbled, voice barely audible in the sterile room. “i should have stopped you. i should have been there.”
he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to open your eyes and tell him it was okay. but you remained still, your breathing steady but shallow. yuta’s mind was a storm of regret and self-recrimination. he blamed himself for everything, convinced that his failure to resolve things before you left had led to this. if only he had followed you, things might have been different.
“wake up, please,” he begged, voice breaking. “you can’t do this to me..”
he felt a sob rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, determined not to break in front of you. he had to be strong, even if it felt like he was falling apart inside. the thought of losing you was unbearable, a gap that threatened to swallow him whole.
“why did i let you go?” he murmured, his fingers tightening around yours. “why didn’t i fight for us?”
the minutes stretched into hours, each one an eternity as yuta sat by your side, his heart heavy with guilt and fear. he couldn’t imagine a life without you, couldn’t bear the thought that he might have lost you because of his own stubbornness.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice choked with emotion. he stayed there, silent and unmoving, the weight of his regret a constant presence. all he could do was wait and hope, praying that you would wake up and give him the chance to apologize, to tell you how much you meant to him. until then, he would sit by your side, holding on to the hope that you would come back to him.
“i love you. please, just give me a chance to make things right.”
just wondering if you’d think yuuta would be jealous of the first years getting too comfy with s/o like maybe one time s/o called out “yuu” both yuuji & yuuta respond & they’re like 👁👄👁
𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 | 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀.
you’re sweet, it’s yuuta’s favorite thing about you—a little too sweet at times, but it’s lovable all the same. and yuuta has grown some, he’s not as much of the timid young boy as he used to be. fighting curses and seeing the things he has and training as vigorously as he does is enough to toughen anyone up, and he’s no exception. but still, he’s always remained your kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta deep down.
and then there’s yuji. yuji is too perfect for his own good. he’s too easy to befriend, too easy to trust, too easy to grow fond of, and too easy to love.
he’s kind, sweet, sensitive, and magnetic. now that’s a deadly combination if he’s ever seen one, and if the way your eyes brighten when you see yuji is anything to base it off of, yuuta would say you think so too.
“yuu,” you call out, a small grin on your face as you approach yuuta and the pink-haired boy beside him, and when both of their heads snap to your direction, yuuta can’t help but feel his stomach churn. “oh,” you pause, blinking for a moment before giggling, “i meant him,” you point to yuuta.
he’s a tad bit relieved that it’s him you’re looking for, or he thinks the churning in his stomach would be infinitely worse. but then yuji smiles bashfully, looks down and lets out a nervous chuckle as he blushes, and then yuuta’s fists clench just a little.
yuji seems rather fond of you, fond enough that it makes yuuta’s heart plummet—and truth be told, it also makes his blood boil just a little.
“oops,” his younger classmate huffs out a soft laugh, “guess i got ahead of myself there,” he murmurs.
“aww, yuji,” you tease, and much to yuuta’s horror, you’re reaching over to pinch itadori’s cheek, and he’s left to wonder—when had you gotten so comfortable that causal touches were a part of the norm? “if you want a nickname you can just say so.”
“that’s not what i meant,” itadori mumbles shyly. “i just…you know…yuji? yuu? i thought it was for me for a second there.”
“it was for yuuta. for me,” yuuta cuts in, and he has to dig his nails into his palm as he clenches his fists, watching you smile gently to itadori. it’s okay, your expression reads, almost like you’re reassuring the boy—but it’s not okay.
your yuu is him—yuuta. not yuji. you’re here for him, to see him, to smile at him and grab his hand and tug him along as he follows. but you’re staring at itadori fondly, and it’s starting to hurt just a little.
“well we can’t both be yuu,” itadori laughs good-naturedly, and if he wasn’t such a gentle soul, yuuta wonders if he’d hate the boy. but there’s no hating itadori yuji—he’s much too good deep in his soul to be hated. “i’ll leave you two alone then,” he hums, patting your head with a happy smile before he’s off.
the touch isn’t even to him, but yuuta feels his skin burn, prickling at every inch as his heart drops.
you turn to him, beaming as your arms nestle their way around his neck, and even if not enough, there’s still some comfort in the action.
“hi baby,” you murmur, pressing a soft peck to his jaw, “i was looking for you.”
and this is silly—this is small, and not that big of a deal, and not even your fault, but yuuta can’t help the doubts that slowly plague his mind. he can’t fight the voices that hunch over his back and whisper into his ear, drowning out the sound of your voice before you can make it all better.
“me?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that almost says he doesn’t believe you. your brows furrow just a little, your hand sliding to cup his cheek and tilt his face to look at you better.
“yes you, silly,” you huff out a small laugh, “who else?”
yuuta wants to mutter that evidently, it could seem like a certain someone, but he doesn’t have the heart to ever be grouchy with you. so he swallows his insecurities, tries to bury them in the deepest of crevices in his mind so they won’t be dug up again—but it’s like he’s digging into concrete, and the ground is too tough, just won’t break to let him shove his feelings down.
“no one,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.
and if you decided one day that itadori yuji was the boy of your dreams, that he was the one who could paint your skies and hang the stars just how you’d like them, yuuta doesn’t think he’d be surprised. if itadori is a swirl of vivid shades, colors that could brighten your world and bring you to life—yuuta thinks he pales in comparison, dim hues muddled together that could never show you the world through scenery as breathtaking.
but then your thumb trails over his cheek, tracing the soft curve of his face before hooking under his chin and pulling his face a little closer. he settles for looking at your lips, not yet ready to meet your gaze.
“what’s wrong, baby? what’s got you so down, hmm?” your voice is concerned, a soft breath that rolls off your tongue and soothes over the aches, placating them so easily—but he’s left to wonder: how long?
how long can you keep up the facade that he’s enough for you to happily crave more and more of? how long can you keep looking him in the eyes and getting lost in their depths? how long before enough is simply not enough any longer?
he doesn’t voice his concerns. “nothing,” he shrugs instead. “what are you—”
“don’t say nothing,” you sigh quietly, and by now, your hand has wandered past his shoulder to bury into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently as you twirl the strands of dark locks around your fingers. “it can’t be nothing, you know. no one knows you better than me,” you say with a sense of pride in your voice.
there’s a small bit of hope in that—a small part of him that revels in the victory of knowing you’re prideful that you see past him and catch glimpses no one else can. so he lets himself be vulnerable with you—because even with his doubts, he’s still you’re kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta.
“just…didn’t know you and itadori knew each other so well,” he finally mumbles. it’s silent for a moment, and yuuta starts to accept that maybe you’re going to say what he knows is inevitably coming after all.
anyone would love to know itadori yuji like that—why should you be an exception?
yuuta wishes it was before he fell so hopelessly for you, wishes it was before the sound of your laugh was a melody he knew by heart—it’d hurt less, it wouldn’t make his lip wobble the way it’s wobbling right now.
“oh, baby,” you chuckle, cupping his face with both your hands, squeezing them together as you pull his forehead to yours, “you don’t have to be jealous. he’s just yuji.”
you offer him a sweet smile and eyes full of light, and he offers you a teary-eyed tilt of his head in confusion.
“but—”
“but you’re yuuta. you’re my yuu,” you whisper against his mouth, breath fanning over his skin before you press a delicate peck onto his lips. it’s short, a little too quick for his liking, but it makes him shiver nonetheless. “and i love you, my pretty boy.”
one more peck to his lip, then two, and then you’re kissing him deeply, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your hips before your arms wrap around his neck once more. he pulls you closer on instinct, and even if yuuta sees himself a muddle of colors, he feels bright hues seep through your lips and color him new—and it’s enough.
he thinks it’s enough, even if just for now.
“you were looking for me?” he asks breathlessly one more time as he pulls away, just to be sure. you watch as his eyes lighten a shade as you nod, smiling when his arms wrap impossibly tighter around you.
“of course, i was,” you press a kiss to his jaw, “who else?”
The sting of the icy air burned your eyes as you stared at the plain white of the ceiling, silence filling your senses as your tears threatened to slip down from your eyes; visible frustrations piling up between the crease of your eyebrows.
You heard the gentle taps of his slippers against the wooden floor of the hallway, a quiet creak from the door before the black messy fluff of his hair poked into the room.
He was about to say something, about the cat he saw on the way home but the sight of your wobbly lips and glossy orbs was enough to rip the words off of his tongue, a few long seconds had passed as he stood there debating whether he should leave you and your emotions alone or stay beside you.
Yuuta just couldn't help but choose the latter.
His feet hesitantly stepped closer to the bed you were laying on, worry laced over his features and concern nibbling at his mind as a single tear slid down your face, followed by an endless number of wet trails as you let out a choked cough.
You still don't turn to him when he settled himself beside the bed, kneeling down on the floor with his arms resting on the mattress, his larger hand resting atop yours as you only continued to sob into the air.
The room was silent otherwise to your quiet cries, but Yuuta swore he could hear the saddened twist of his heart loud in his ears when your face showed nothing but pain and hurts—yet he doesn't speak a word to you, only paste a lingering peck on your head.
He didn't need to say it, because you would've knew regardless; that he'll always be there to sit next to your fallen form even if the world was against you.
summary: when yuuta’s disappearance has much more of an effect on you than you every thought…
a/n: I had a totally different idea for this,, but it didn’t work out so I came with this. not proofread and I’ll probably change certain things when im not high on sleep deprivation.
—————————————————————-
everyday was a joyful day. well at least, you tried to make it joyful. you didn’t see the purpose in wanting to make your day worse by thinking too much so everything was always so sudden, energetic and for some people maybe a little annoying. but those were things you never cared about. people’s opinion didn’t matter to you. you lived your life for yourself and not for anyone else, so why not try to make the best out of it?
you weren’t easily budged so having missed the bus and running to school in the rain instead didn’t even concern you in the slightest. you had a toast in your mouth and took whatever drink you had in the fridge and ran out the door with your umbrella in one hand and your drink in the other. you were basically jumping in every puddle you saw, not caring if your socks got wet. a big smile was on your face because who didn’t enjoy jumping in puddles with bread in your mouth. you looked at the drink you had taken out of the fridge and got happy that it was strawberry milk, your favourite.
with the speed you were running you knew you’d make it just in time for classes, but before you could reach the school building you saw a young man sitting on a bench. head down, hands intertwined and looking miserable.
well grumpiness in the morning wasn’t for you, so even if you could put a small smile on his face you’d be more than happy. so before you knew it you were standing in front of the guy, holding the umbrella above the two of you. his gaze slowly turned in your direction, his eyes were red and swollen so that indicated that he was probably crying. you gave him a big smile, showing a full set of teeth. you weren’t ashamed the slightest. you handed him the umbrella and placed the strawberry milk on his lap.
before he could say anything you took your bag and placed it over your head and started running In the direction of school. you heard him calling after you and when you turned around you could swear you could see a faint smile on his face. so in return you waved at him. “see you”, you found yourself saying while running through the school grounds.
the day after you saw him sitting there again after having missed your bus again, he handed your umbrella and mumbled a thank you and you’d only smile at him and leave with a sprint because you’d miss school otherwise.
the day after that you saw him again, sitting yet again in the rain with a miserable look. so you gave him your umbrella and, for this time, banana milk and started running with your bag over your head to school. he’d try to call for you again and you’d only turn your head while running and would scream “see you” again.
and before you knew it you’d purposely miss every bus and run to school, just so you could see him on that bench every morning. so you could give him your umbrella in the rain and he’d give it back on sunny days and would mutter a shy “thank you” while you’d scream “see you” after every meeting.
you started to leave the house earlier so you could see him and maybe even talk with him and when you’d see him sitting on that bench you made your way to sit next to him. he didn’t notice it was you yet so you spoke up. “huh, that much for giving you my umbrella every two days”, you said with a pout.
his face shot in your direction and you could see the flush red ears and slightly tinted cheeks as he looked at you.
“you know, buying you an umbrella would solve many of your problems, but I seem to find it more fun to give you mine and get it back afterwards while you thank me”, you said. “I don’t think i’ve properly introduced myself.” you rose from your seat and stood in front of him while stretching out your arm. “i’m y/n, nice to meet you.”
he smiled at you and shook your hand. “okkotsu, okkotsu yuuta.”
“did you know you have very beautiful eyes yuuta”, you said as you pulled him closer.
he’d blush again and you’d laugh. “i’m looking forward to meet up with you more often.”
and you’d see him every day. every morning ten minutes before classes would start, because even If it were only ten minutes with him they made you feel the happiest. not even jumping in a puddle could relate to the feeling you had when you were with him.
you would wake up in the morning trying to look better for him. wear your pretty socks or try to make your hair look slightly better than usual and every so often you’d wear a mask to let your skin glow. you found yourself doing things you’d never thought you’d do for someone. suddenly you cared a lot.
you’d figure out all kinds of things about him. his family, his past, his friends (which he didn’t have much). you learned his reason behind his gloomy days and you figured out the reason why he never went to school. “heeh, you pervert. bet you’re just looking at all the passing high school girls.”
he’d worriedly and anxiously try to tell you that was not the case because he was also a high school student, even though you were well aware he’d never actually look at every girl going to school. his reasoning was that he had special tutoring, something you’d never heard before. probably some extra math classes or something. well it wasn’t as if it would have much effect on you.
it was raining again and you were ready to see yuuta again, but when you were running happily to the bench and sprung in every puddle in the meanwhile you saw he wasn’t there. and he wasn’t there again for several weeks that turned into months.
mornings weren’t special anymore and as much as you hated that this had an effect on you you couldn’t help the growing ache in your chest. you’d jump in puddles on rainy days, but they didn’t give you as much joy as they used to. you tried to run with your bag on your head to work up some adrenaline, but nothing really worked. nothing gave you the joy you wanted.
many months passed and you found yourself being the person you hated. being the person you did not want to become. being the person that thought too much and let negative thoughts overpower your brain.
it was raining again and you found yourself missing the bus on accident this time. so you walked, not ran, but walked to school that day with no umbrella, no flavoured milk and no bag over your head to protect you from the rain. just you walking in the rain getting completely drench. you saw the bench and made your way to it. you thought of yuuta and sat down at the exact spot he’d sit down.
you hated every moment. you didn’t wanna sit there and remember. you wanted to move on and be happy. who was yuuta anyways? some dude that forgot his umbrella every day? and yet you couldn’t move an inch. the rain had stoped, but the sounds were still there and suddenly a small bottle of strawberry milk was placed on my lap. you shot your head up and your eyes widened. and umbrella over your head.
“it’s unlike you to see you so gloomy in the morning”, he’d say with his oh so familiar smile. he changed. his hair changed and he grew taller. his face matured and he look a lot more calm rather than anxious like he used to be.
you didn’t realize it until he brushed his hand under your eyes that you were crying. “why did you leave so suddenly?”, you asked.
“I can’t tell you the whole story yet, but I promise you that I will one day”, he said as he placed a hand on your cheek. “i’m sorry for leaving you so suddenly.”
you took his hand and lowered it from your face. “you can’t just disappear for months and come back only with a sorry expecting me to forgive you. i’ve been through hell. don’t ask me why you leaving had such an effect on me, but it did. I found myself worrying about what you’d think of me, even though something like that never happened to me before. I was happy to see you every morning and I hate how much of a bitter aftertaste you left behind when you didn’t show up for the past months. I hated you. I hated you so much, that I couldn’t even stop thinking about you. and I couldn’t stop myself from caring about you”, you said through tears.
“then let me make it up to you”, he whispered.
you knew what was coming and you let it happen. because you craved his touch and you craved to feel his lips on yours. so when they touched it felt ever so lightly that you found yourself intoxicated by it. you wanted more and pulled him closer as if he’d leave again. you didn’t give him a second to break it while letting your lips dance together. your heart was hammering in your chest and your brain was a mess.
you weren’t going to let him off the hook so easily. a kiss couldn’t stop you from being angry. but the kiss told you that he was ready to stay and was a form of saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. so your repeated see you’s were not a waste of hope.
here's to karma (at least we tried, didn't we?) | okkotsu y.
synopsis: you and yuuta go back to where it all started, rewriting the beginning as the end.
wc: 2.0k | prfr
warning/s: one swear i was hesitant to put in and might remove later, brief talk bt abandonment + insecurities since i am one insecure piece of shit and that was the root of this all | genre: angst
playlist : flower face - angela (this song SLAPS please do listen to it)
a/n: this is my break up fic with yuuta i'm leaving him thanks for activating my insecurities/lh /hj now i have this fic of leaving u that i might revise some time later. anyway i'm proud of this ahaha
♡ reblogs are appreciated ♡
okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.
he doesn't like getting up before the sun, but he learned to love it when he once watched it rise with you. he doesn't like cold showers in the morning, but he's willing to take them to be presentable for you. he doesn't like alarms, but he's willing to make as many as he can to wake up with you.
yuuta is not an early bird, but at 5 in the morning, fully-dressed and awake, he's in front of an old convenience store, six feet away from where you sat down.
reluctant to call out your name, his gaze and shoulders heavy with unnecessary guilt.
he eventually greets you.
"good morning," he tells you at 5:16 a.m.
his voice is raspy, possibly from how it's only been 53 minutes since he woke up.
you don't mind it anyways; you've gotten used to hearing its soft whispers of "good morning" whenever he comes by your place to pick you up, or the lighthearted bursts of laughter when he finds himself in a stupid situation, or how he leans into your ear to tell you how wonderful you look when it's too crowded and you're struck with unpleasant thoughts.
it takes you minutes to reply, hesitant and distracted with thoughts wondering why he was here even if it had been you that called him over last night.
he figures you haven't noticed him yet, so he takes three steps towards you.
one for each year you both spent calling and finding home in each other.
the first year, when you first ask him to go stargazing with you even though there were barely even stars at night with how bright the city is.
the second year, when he's not-so-shy to let you know about how he carries an extra scarf from fall until spring because he's memorized your forgetfulness.
the third year, when things start to fall apart, but you're both still able to mend it back together. (or pretend that it's fixed.)
and the fourth—
"you really came, huh," your voice is low and almost inaudible except for the pained chuckle at the end of your sentence.
full of regret, your head hangs low. maybe it wasn't a good idea to have invited him.
he was stupid to have actually come anyway.
and honestly, he didn't want to come had it been someone else that invited him out at morning.
but it's you who invited him, and he's never been able to say no to you. not when he doesn't like seeing you disappointed.
"of course," he lowers his gaze to the ground, unable to look at you without feeling his head and chest ache every second. "you know i'd never flake out on you."
—then why was there never a fourth year?
something stings your eyes and blur your vision for a moment.
they're gone when you blink, leaving behind a wet trail down your cheek that was quick to dry when the breeze passes you by.
a sore, forced laugh leaves your lips, followed by a cough that has him rushing to your side and patting your back gently while worried eyes watch over you for every second that passed by.
"are you okay?" despite his hoarse and harsh-sounding voice, his tone is sweet and mellow, dipped in genuine concern, rough hands handling you delicately.
everything's silent other than your cough resonating in the empty parking lot and his soft pats on your back ringing in your ears. it remains empty aside from the two of you.
too bad it wasn't open for 24 hours so that there would be a few vehicles around or aisles for you to hide behind and then you wouldn't have to face him.
that's what you've always done though.
run away from reality and its problems.
it's time for you to face it again.
"sorry," you cough into your elbow. "yeah, i'm fine."
yuta knows about how often you lie about your condition, so he asks one more time in hopes of getting an honest answer.
a nod is all he gets. he doesn't question you again.
he wants to though.
he wants to ask if you're okay and if you two can try again.
still, he doesn't because he knows that he's going to get both a 'yes' and a 'no', and he knows which answer belonged to which question.
backing away from you, he sits when he deems the distance between you two not too far nor too close. you're more than a hand's reach, and that's enough for him. he wants to be closer, but to have you around is already enough for him.
it's already 5:28.
time passes too quickly.
despite wanting to cherish the moment, sit in silence and hopefully, peace as well, he stops his stalling and questions your need to see him in the morning when there's so much more time left on the clock.
as he's fulfilled your desire to meet him, you fulfill his of basking in the stillness of the world—with you.
you, and not someone else.
you, because you're the one he wants to have around.
you, because he—
—loves you.
he loves you, and not someone else, because he can't see himself with anyone else other than you.
(and he'll keep on loving you, even if you tell him to stop for his sake and yours.)
"do you still remember?" you mumble in your folded arms on your knees. "when we first met."
of course he does. it was somewhat unusual and unforgettable aside from the fact that the place you're both at right now is where you two met.
a cold, lonely dawn spent at an empty parking lot of a convenience store. two kids feeling empty and drained until he decided to strike up a conversation with you, wondering why you were there when you could ask him the same. neither of you judged each other about it though, understanding one another regardless being in different situations.
that's when you both got on the same vehicle and drove to a road that led to now.
it was like any other roadtrip, fun yet tiring, but neither of you realized that when everything was romanticized since the moment you two got on. it really was stupid of you two to think that meeting at a convenience store was romantic because it's not.
it really was stupid of you to ignore the warning signs.
"yeah," scratching his nape, he tilts his head to get a glimpse of your face, but he only sees your back. "we danced around even though there wasn't any music playing."
"it was dumb," you turn away from him as if you were going to get the urge remake the mistakes you made then if you saw his undeniably pretty features.
"it was fun though," a shy, embarrassed smile tugs at his lips. he hopes you're smiling too.
"wanna do it again?"
this was dumber.
though you're not going to make the same mistakes again. this was the end already, after all. there's no more mistakes to be made when there's no choices to be made.
the deep inhale of the cold air stings your lungs as you finally face him for the first time today, standing up and holding a hand out to him.
he swallows the last bit of hesitance that was preventing him from taking your hand, then starts to pull you into him.
"still no music?" one of his hands run to your waist.
you answer him as he's about to intertwine his other with yours by taking out your phone and a slow, gloomy melody begins to play. it echoes in the empty space lightly when you settle it on the cold cement floor.
no comments were made about the choice of music. his hand rests on your waist while yours on his shoulder, the others laced together.
for a moment, you're both back to the start.
dwelling in the glum atmosphere, savoring each other's company.
still unable to look each other in the eye so you two opt for the ground or anywhere other than the eyes or face. stiffly and awkwardly swaying, feet pausing every few seconds in doubt, choosing which steps to take because it's not used to dancing.
bathing in the lowlight of mornings that turn into something better because that's what you two are good at: romanticizing the hopeless and the unromantic.
"i wanted to have a last dance with you," you mutter, afraid he hears it. "that's why."
with the little space between your bodies, he does hear it. like your first meeting, he doesn't judge you for it. he likes dancing with you anyways.
"it doesn't have to be the last one," he wishes to say but it remains as a thought, the lack of courage not allowing him to use his voice. knowing he's going to regret doing so later, he still keeps them to himself.
so instead, he says something else.
"we can always dance again, if you'd like."
fuck.
that's even worse. (is it?)
on his shoulder, he feels your fingers claw at him. he wasn't supposed to say that. at least he doesn't mind it, but maybe you do.
you said it yourself, this was the last. maybe you said that because you didn't want to anymore, he overthinks.
with closed eyes, your fingers loosen up on the cotton material, relaxing and exhaling slowly through your nose.
"that's—" he tenses up at your voice.
"that's cool."
did he hear you right?
"i don't mind dancing with you again but," the corner of your lips curl up, a burning sensation in your lungs when you inhale the cold morning air and finish your sentence. "someone might."
someone, meaning the person you see himself with in your stead. the person whom you're convinced is better than you. the person whom you're convinced is more fitting for him, unlike you.
your eyes meet, and he can see through you.
you always lied about how you felt, until now.
it's all obvious with the way your voice stutters, eyes falter, and hands tremble; with how you avoid his gaze as much as you can because it's become unbearable to look at him without having your heart be spared from being torn into little pieces.
yuuta's done beating around the bushes. biting his lip, his hands squeeze your waist and hand, his gaze shaky.
"you didn't have to end this."
having enough of it, too much for him to contain, he bursts into tears and lays his head on your shoulder, shuddering and holding onto you tightly, as if that was ever going to stop you from letting go.
"it was better for the both of us."
the music gets drowned out by his choked sobs, the sky growing a little brighter than before each minute.
the sun rises slowly and lights up the dark corners of the world, and there's nothing you can do but watch another day begin again.
there's nothing you can do to stop yuuta crying.
there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling out of love.
(and even if you could prevent it, the road was always going to lead here.)
and as your shoulder gets soaked in tears, while you softly tug at the black tufts of his hair, you remember that there never was a fourth year because you—your insecurities—cut it off before he could. (because he never would, and neither would you.)
at your reply, he wonders why he even came here in the first place. was it because he was hopeful that you'd take him back again? (definitely.)
it's too early for this, and okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.
he doesn't like getting up before the sun, but today, he did just for you. he doesn't like cold showers in the morning, but today, he took them to be presentable for you. he doesn't like alarms, but last night, he made as many as he could to make sure he doesn't wake up late and make you wait for nothing.
yuuta is not an early bird, so he faces the consequences of being left.
(while he's busy facing his consequences, you're facing yours: having to wake up knowing he's someone else's because of you.)
(you never wanted to leave, but it was better than to have him abandon you.)
