YOU WERE under scrutiny of the one and only justsofamous for years and years before finding out who he is. constantly having to question your self-worth was a bigger downhill slope than the time you were begging your friends, crying and pleading, for them to go to a concert with you of an artist they all hated except you. but now that you're pretty much going through the motions of retracing your self esteem and your (extremely ironic) relationship with this guy who harassed you and then picked enough apples to win your heart, you started to consider moving in with him after he offered it enough times. only that, once you actually did...things started falling apart again for the two of you.
former streamer!scaramouche x gn streamer!reader
This is PART TWO of the smau HOW HATERS ARE BORN. If you haven't finished that one, it's recommended you do before reading this.
genre: smau, lovers being lovers, twitch streamer reader, farmer scara, i made reader like a feral rat, comedy, crackfic, romance, some drama, many apples
warnings: lots of swearing, crude and unnecessary jokes, kys/kms jokes, death threats, a lot of things that are spelled wrong, alcohol, excessive partying, irl photos to visualize scenarios but there's none of reader
status: starting soon!
a/n: i never actually thought i'd make a part two to this, and i don't really know what brought me to this point where i needed to pull a 22 jump street. did 21 jump street ever need a sequel itself? anyway, it’s something to give you guys as a thanks, and even if it’s kinda hidden in obscurity, at least it’s out there in the world. :) enjoy!!
♡ prologue || "stop, you are literally ruining my life right now."
chapter one — spork 🍎 ♡ chapter two — 1985
chapter three — the cursed corn maze ♡ chapter four — thug gangster shit
chapter five — the amoeba sisters ♡ chapter six — love is like taxes
chapter seven — it's getting old ♡ chapter eight — the moment of truth
☆ epilogue || there are weirder ways to learn about each other (🎂)
Admittedly, reading that text, you fumbled your phone remembering the short time limit.
Your pulse quickened as soon as you did, though. And instead of acknowledging the prevalent gong that struck in your chest, you knew by just a glance of the clock and the blaring concession that you were still in your pajamas after getting home that you were pretty much screwed.
The message glared at you bluntly. You scrambled to your feet with the finesse and charm of a terrified deer. Clothes, socks, shoes, for some reason while you were searching for everything you were wearing, they didn't fit as snugly as before. You were also putting them on entirely wrong, in theory too, but you weren't thinking about that too much at the moment. Everything you did need was scattered in complete disarray, and your brain continued to move too fast to remember where you even left anything in the first place.
You hissed in mild defeat, dropping to your knees to snatch just the plain sweater you were wearing and hiding your pajama shirt that said 'Certified Almond Lover' on the front.
A strangled laugh escaped you, half-amusement, half-panic that this was happening again. You were getting deja vu despite not having lived through this for the absolute longest time, and for some reason, it flooded your soul with an intoxicating, more interesting rush of life. A torrent of the evocations you had yet to revisit now that you brought the memorabilia to the front of the house and cleaned up everything else.
By the time you burst outside, his car was already in the driveway, where he stood there, scrolling through his phone in the frosting air. Even standing in place, he seemed so unbothered, the biting winter failing to even faze him. A dark scarf loose around his neck as his strands of hair brushed over his cheeks in the light gales. The sheer image of him was making the mess of your chest come to a complete stop.
Your breath was puffing out the chills of the atmosphere by the time you bolted down the front steps, the sight of your ex-boyfriend giving you a different type of chills. His head slowly moved up towards you once aware of a peep, clutching the phone in his hand for a minute, sucking in his cheek.
"Cutting it close, huh?" He asked, his timbre questionably calm and his expression unreadable but for the glistering mirth in his expression, eyes sizing you up for the first time in a while, taking in your, to some degree, untidy appearance. "Did you forget?"
You started toying with the bottom half of your sweater, intentionally oversized as you avoided locking gazes with him. "I...may have lost track of time."
"Mmhm," he replied, clearly unconvinced. He noncommittally slipped his phone in his pocket and took a slow inhale and exhale. "After giving you an hour and a half, I would have thought you'd at least have the thought not to show yourself out in Satoru Gojo pajama pants. In the snow."
Your hands spontaneously flew down to your sweater as you attempted to pull the sweater over your sleepwear, you yanked it further with a small heat crawling up your neck and to your ears. "I...I wasn't planning on you showing up until you were ready. Who knew that you would be ready...right now? I got distracted!"
"Yeah? By what?" He asked, and while his tone wasn't accusatory, it was in the same energy, curious. Unfastened and disconnected in the way that made you feel twelve times more ridiculous.
"Cleaning..?" You sputtered impulsively, looking away.
"Cleaning." He echoed flatly.
Your lips opened and closed like you were trying to find a better excuse, but the actual truth was lingering on the tip of your tongue and fizzling out constantly, not even deniable to how you actually felt. Tidying up wasn't an excuse, rather than a genuine way to cope with you not really feeling like you knew how to distract yourself from the growing bow in your chest. "Too far-fetched?" You asked, a small laugh in the place of inopportune.
He was in a intricate contradiction, whittled, but aerially tender. The turn of his jaw was defined, in a soft capture of your molten irises, it was kind of holding him captive. Staring at you with a vehemence that was on the verge of insufferable. Endless expanse of his contemplations and the feeling billowing beneath the surface. It wasn't loud, or crystal clear; no, it was the kind of typhoon you felt seeing him again at Ei's house for the first time.
Drawing you in again, his lashes were dark and fine, firming his optics with a featheriness belying their polish. Like glass, impossible to ignore after a cut, his lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but it was with hesitant composure. "I'm leaving."
Your shoulders dropped at him, disappointed that this was the news he decided to bring along to your house, but you didn't falter this time. Your heart skipped a beat, not having much of a useful answer right away. At least, not one you wanted to say aloud. "So I've heard," you sighed, breaking eye contact again. "You didn't have to visit. I know you're busy."
His hands disappeared in his coat pockets once he started discerning the frigidness. His breath was visible between you two as he scoffed. "We're past being selfless.” He muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. If anything, he sounded tired.
“Well, calling sounds a lot better when you’re under pressure, and a tour sounds like a hard swallow.” You swallowed hard and thick, voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to do any catering, you know what you need to do, and so do I.”
"I wanted to see you.” He snarked half-heartedly.
Your stomach twisted, it was the simplicity of his words that got you, and you forced another shaky laugh to ebb the rest of your tenseness. “Okay…” You said, a lot more disjointed than intended.
He leaned in slowly, the change in his stance creating flimsiness within the distance. He carefully dismantled it, his existence alone was pressing into you, pulling you into an ellipse without ever laying a finger on you. His face hovered closer, head tipping slightly to memorize you, study your new movements and practices now that you were…unfamiliar.
“Okay?” His voice was low, pulling you much like the sinewy drifts you felt in your stomach. Faint scent of his light trace, testing the heft of his words with a lace.
While your gaze darts away involuntarily consistent, Kuni didn’t let you escape so easily. He moved nearer to you, chin aslant downwards, chasing your expression with little purpose other than to get some sort of rise out of you.
As a small and teasing smile graced his lips, the sound of your own pulse was beating in his ears as you slowly lifted your eyes back to his. It was near impossible to ignore him like this— the same person who you were entirely head over heels for. And in a sense, you felt like you still were.
“There you are.” He said, more elated while his voice remained silent as the neighborhood they lived in. The corner of his lips twitched…from amusement? Frustration? You couldn’t tell. Even if he hadn’t touched you, it felt a lot like he had his hand on your back, comforting it leisurely. It sent mold shivers down your spine, and a leering heat stroke from how bad you were feeling it.
You bit your lip, “The tour,” you tried to make out, but you were jittery the second you attempted to control yourself. “It’s really tonight?”
He nodded. “Midnight bus.”
You hesitated, your heart dropping to the bottom of your stomach in seconds. It rendered strange to you, even with the current circumstances leading them here. That Kuni would be like this again. “How long?”
Kuni mulled on it, “Three months,” he mulled, tone even. “It depends on how well it goes.”
There was no problem waiting an entire three months to do something, you were usually used to that prospect anyway considering you owned a business at one point, but there was something extremely agitating about this trial of patience in particular.
You couldn’t control it, nor put it to an immediate stop. You were forced to bear the burden of realizing you couldn’t hold back change no matter what you did. Even if it was fluid enough to come back. “You’ll come back, right?” You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting with the sleeves on your sweater.
Almost as if scrutinizing you in silence, he gave way to something gentler in comparison to his usual approach. You didn’t necessarily feel like you were standing on the edge of prejudice these days with him, “I always do.”
Nearing silence was not spoken for, but it wasn’t awkward nor painful to sit in with him this time around. It said words that neither of you could even fathom about yourselves, about the times that have passed. Your chest tightened in expectation still, and you stiffened. “Did you come by just to say that you’d miss me?” Your eyes lit up.
He leaned back ever so slightly, his breath was seeable in comparison to how he was again. He tilted his head just enough for his hair to shift against the angles of his face. His exterior a crack in marble, only showing its light in the right position. “Did you get the message, or did you want to wring it out of me?”
The fervor in your face increased, and you were left to simply say something incoherent under your breath. “I’ll miss you too.”
He caught the sound, but instead of poking at your father, the moment settled. His snarky visibility settling to something soundless, off the record. He wandered over your mannerisms again, your bitten lip, subtle line of tension on your brow, your lips together like they were trying hard to hold something back.
Even if it was just to live vicariously here for one last moment before he was suffering at consistent demands, he considered it worth the time and effort these days. A bigger change than he realized, and all you could do in comeback was twist the fabric of your sweater in bunches under your fingers while attempting to even your breathing.
There was no more shortness of the distance, because it was hardly there anymore. The gap had simmered away, leaving your breath to hitch again after regaining it, stopping mere inches from you. He looked at you again, with that same unafraid look. The look he carried with him while he was telling you off, and the look he’s keep with him now that he was leaving you for a while. His expression reverent, and like a precious gem.
His hands lifted slowly from his sides as the faint hesitation in his motion caught him by surprise. Your cold cheeks were replaced by the somewhat warmth of his touch, his thumb brushed slightly beneath your cheekbone, the metal ring grazing softly on your skin. You leaned into his touch like clockwork, featherlight and stopping every now and then, you were too nervous to look into his eyes even if something was entrancing about it.
He was sure again, with a more dainty unsureness nestled in him. “Is this okay?” He asked, but quiet enough that only you could hear.
You swallowed all the words you were going to say, what you were supposed to now that he wouldn’t be here long. “Yes,” Your voice tremors.
His lips twitched in the smallest guise of a smile. His hands now a ghost of a presence and you were forced to feel the shivers on your spine move up, creating goosebumps like no other. He leaned into slowly, taking your lips in his again. This time, the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, just as you were.
Kuni’s lips were soft, even when there was a determinedness to the way he kissed you. Like he had something else to prove to you that wasn’t just his proudness speaking in his ear. It mattered to him, anyway, it was why his hands never left, it’s why his kisses started to deepen with every retract. A press of his presence, grounding you, setting in your racing heart like the sweetest melody.
Not hurried, nor urgent, just consuming you all the same.
Lips brushing on you, your head in a flurry that was similar to the whisper of winter’s first snowfall. He was merciful, forbearing, fleeting with every second that you took for granted. Time was stretching impossibly long between the two of you, and you were almost at peace to say that this was something you wished you felt again. The adorations of his feathering pecks, he wasn’t afraid to kiss you, but he was yearning.
Love to you was a lot like feeling yearned for. That’s all you ever knew, and it was a feeling you wished many had the pleasure of growing fond of. The feeling making you want to jump into the air in a burst of energy, the lingering patience of your ex-lover remaining in your palm, and you savored it.
When he finally pulled back, a part of Kunikuzushi Raiden didn’t want to let the harrowing future take hold. Drawing back meant he had to leave right now, lips hovering close in a contemplating to keep going, ignoring a schedule. He stood there, memorizing that feeling.
You let him, and instead of embarrassing him once he removed himself from you, watching his eyes flick back open to see your beaming expression, you quietly rubbed at your arm. “I didn’t like that one either.” You broke the silence with a small and unserious utterance, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah, it kind of sucked.”
previous ☆ masterlist
THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
When it all came down to it, the beach always stretched two times more endlessly than the life that you harbored.
And maybe that was the worst part of your dilemma. You were caught in between the vast hug of the world, an unresting beat of the sea but the hugs that you often came across these days were of pity. People felt sorry for you, and it more-so frustrated you than healed. Sand shimmering with a diaphanous and pearlescent glow, like it was dusted in powdered stars. They were soft and cool beneath the unders of your shoe, tiny shells crunching like glass and fleeting stories. A delicate spiral you looked on taking a glance at some of them, whispering secrets to the tides.
You held the urn, facing the ocean of living drapery, shifting from deep indigos to clear aquamarines. Crowning a crest of white foam, glimmering a lot similar to liquid silver under the light of the upcoming sunshine. The two mingling in a haze that stretched wide and tinged with lavender. Your eyes moved to the clouds, wisping and drifting lazily, reflecting a saturation of the seamless harmony below.
Smell of salt in your nose, taking in the mingled collection of driftwood that was sun-warmed and the earthy tang of faint seaweed, you were there in that grasp of time. Hoping to even Kazuha that you were here to live the sensations.
To put it in an easier way to process what you were doing, your grief spilled over again. Your tears were wracking your entire being, raw as they streamed on your cheeks. Streaking your cheeks with salt, shouldering shaking involuntarily, the more that you ruminated on the prospect that you were alone in this moment, you refused to hold back on your wallows. It wasn’t the kind of sobbing you could hold back, the sounds of your crying joining with the wind, sharp gasps catching in the core of your gullet.
Your face flushed, skin devoid and eyes desperate beneath the blotchiness spreading across your cheeks and nose. Sniveling with annoyed gasps of someone surfacing from water, the water you hadn’t realized you were drowning in. Arriving in short bursts, shaking, your body failing to remember how to breathe steadily. Your lip quivered following every single exhale, slightly cleft, you wanted to say a lot to your brother.
You didn’t know what to say to Kazuha— everything you ever said to him was in your head, and it burrowed like a baby bird in its nest. You should have known that your thoughts were always with him, because maybe he was always listening. And that was the hardest part to come to terms with, resurfacing your feelings with a sob more jagged than the last.
Tears clung to your chin, falling in slow drops onto their hands while you wiped at your snot and tears, the storm in your head developing mayhem. This was the first time ever since your mother dying that you felt so incredibly small, even after the uplift of the people around you, even with the small victories.
Behind you, the crunch of sand broke the detritus of the tears you inhabited, snapping your head immediately towards the source with a more than intense fashion. Your eyes were bleary still, startled and confused. A sharp band of his silhouette backlit by a lambency of solar flare. His presence was as delicate as it was futile and dangerous, wind from the coolness softly feathering the midnight of his hair.
A cigarette hung loosely from the corner of his lips, crimping hazy smoke into the air of saline. He had a small wooden box under his arm, battered and weathered, but obviously cared for considering his other hand was holding the under.
“You’re dragging this.” Kuni dryly said, fresh with his cuspate fringes he always had on his belt. There was a smaller hint of…care, in his tone. A sliver of warmth that he hasn’t had the heart to show you in years.
You blinked, fleetingly at a loss for words at his appearance. Someone you didn't think you'd see again for the record, was there rejecting his own schedule again. He neared closer to you, boots granulating the sand again. The cancer stick hanging from his lips absentmindedly before he exhaled a thin stream. He sat next to you in the space between the box he set down in between you two.
"You shouldn't be so impressionable," You looked back at the sea, heart spilling onto your bones. "Whoever told you to be here was just trying to get you to care a little more."
The latch of the box clicked softly as he opened it. Inside was a jumbled array of pictures, some fading and some crinkled at the edges, a lot of them aimlessly ripped but not intentionally. You didn't look right away, feeling a lot more disinterested in the remnants of someone else's life. Especially your ex.
"You've been through a lot on your own." He shrugged, trying to stop himself just short of invading the space that was between you two, studying how tethered your composure was before proceeding. "And I was in the area, too."
He was stern sounding still, but there wasn't anything malevolent. Just...observant?
You wiped your tears in haste, even though they made you babble in defeat. "I didn't send someone to hunt you down if that's what happened. I just wanted to be alone."
The two of your lack of words was heavy, you looked at the seas ripples and rolls in its metrical fashion, who didn't feel any different to what sentiment you equipped. Yet, even with the one-sided tug, you felt everything. And your sobs morphed to deep and gutteral hollow wails, weeping dropping into your lap like the urn was leaking, too.
Kuni didn't say anything at first, sitting there close, but not too close that it would give you the wrong idea. He always had the way about him that would make him look at you and track your every movements like they were something he wanted for himself. Trying to understand this paradox that would never make sense to anyone from a different perspective.
He would never understand the inner workings of you, and what you were actually thinking beyond the lies you decided to hide in for comfort. You were some enigma to him, and it was harder being here. "Well, that's insulting," He said finally, voice smooth. He seemed uncoupled, and was definitely not saying it to comfort you. "You act like I can't make a decision without someone else telling me to do it."
"Why else would you be here..."
He couldn't help but scoff, humored. "Because you've been alone. Least anyone can do is help you out right now." He tilted his head slightly. "You don't even have to be ready to do this. Didn't you just find out that he was dead?"
You turned to him, your eyes red and puffy, bearing a half-confused, half-frustrated face. "Maybe I need to do this to move on." You proclaimed while a surge of warmth rushed through your body. "I...I don't know what else to do right now. Than this."
Kazuha's urn was heavy in your hands, and in a way, what you were holding was every recollection of his being. All the things you weren't able to say to him, all the moments your brother was forced to leave behind. "Kazuha liked you a lot, you know." You said, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I wanted to tell you a while back, but everything was going too fast."
He absently traced his fingers against battered wood, cigarette smell lingering. "Kazuha liked a lot of people."
"Maybe, but I think with you it was different. Sometimes when I would try and get it out of him, he wouldn't relent, but I think he really thought that we would stay with each other." Your words came out shaky. "If not like, then trusted, maybe. I don't know."
"You don't need to convince me." He said, his usual aloofness tempered, dulling by the heaviness. "Who cares? Didn't stop me from ruining everything. Take this with you if you're going to dump him, you'll need it more than I do."
You boggled at him through drops, your eyes peeling down slowly to acknowledge the cracks of armor the other wore so carefully around him. The box of photos was a litter of pictures with you and Kazuha, ones you forgot were even taking. Your memories scattering in bursts, of many pictures that he took of you two together. Sitting on your porch, of your home, you were both laughing with your heads tilt toward each other. This was the youngest photo of you and him you could look back on. Your brother's smile, so soft and kind, lighting up your heart without extra attempt.
You stared at the photo in awe, your chest consolidated. "You kept these the entire time? I thought they were all lost..."
"He gave me them a bit before we broke up," He said, his thumb brushing against the edge of the picture. "Said it was one of his favorite pictures I took of you guys, and that I should keep it. That maybe I'd need it one day, I didn't really know why I would." He reminisced bitterly, "Now I do."
Even if you flinched at what he said, your grief wasn't enough to mask the elation you felt seeing your brother again. Even with the photos of him, there being an entire box of you, your mother, and Kazuha in such a compact box, kept away and tucked with the very person who you thought hated you. "And you're in denial he didn't see you as somebody?"
"Who else was left?" He asked.
"You can't say that to me!" Your voice raised, but it was no louder than the crashing waves still. You were like a tiny puppy who was struggling to even start up an utter or peep. "That doesn't make it easier, Zushi. None of this make it easier, always acting like it was or wasn't going to happen doesn't change anything. Kazuha lived like he was already halfway out the door, and I can't come to terms with it. Why do you insist on making it harder for me?"
"You're asking me that? After I told you to fuck off fifteen times in a row and continue to clutch onto my arm?" He rose an eyebrow. "Look, the sooner you face what you want to, the sooner you'll stop tearing yourself apart and putting yourself back together again."
Your tears melted into your sleeves, cheeks slick with the evidence of your sorrow. "You're really cruel," your lips trembled, your eyes vacant while you stared with forlorn. "When you kissed me in the bathroom that day, were you trying to prove a point then, too?"
"I like you." He at in the same stillness, like the ocean. The box of photographs sitting awaiting, contents stirring gently with the sea, spirits of the past life searching to let you know of what had been. What could have been if he was still here. He wasn't prying, but he had been surveying the entire time, gauging.
You were about to shatter completely or crack, but like a sword puncturing yet again through you, you knew that he was saying these things to keep you afloat. Your heart burned, your tone shaking a lot more than it had been all day. "Enough to stay?"
Kuni exhaled through his nose, the exasperation clearly settling in. "I don't know," He crossed his arms. "When things fell apart, he never stopped thinking about you. Nobody ever just...stops thinking about you, even me? It's actually getting really annoying."
In your tearful mess, they emerged again as your fingers melded with his slightly, brushing fingers to take the photo as you clutched it in a tight grasp with the urn. The wails were quieter now, still shuddering your whole body. You let yourself be held by the endless things you wanted to say in the meantime, and while you couldn't discern which ones were actually okay to enunciate, the only thing you knew was that Kunikuzushi...was always here, whether it was in happiness or indignation.
He was always here.
“Thank you,” you said finally, your voice breaking. "Thank you!" You managed a small and liquid laughter, feeling a lot lighter all the considering. Maybe this was exactly what you needed, your breath catching in your throat as you mitigated the burn easier.
He didn't mean to look at you for as long as he did, it was just something about the way you expressed yourself as you were in the longest time. Not the way that you were crying endlessly, and the glistening of your eyelashes, catching a fading sunlight like the drops of gold. The entirety of your being, unexpected feelings crashing into him. You looked serene to him, and a faint heat crept on his neck before he could stop it.
His head averted quickly, free hand brushing through his hair in a more dismissive motion. "Eugh." He sounded out in response.
"What?" Your lips sundered.
"Nothing."
You felt him reposition after that brief second, brittle, the first breath of a tempest. His movements calculated as he weighed his own shifts. Without any other beats, you felt his arm wrap about your opposite shoulder, pulling your head to press onto his. It wasn't too aggressive, nor a firm touch tinkling your veins this time around. He was silently reassuring you.
Warmness of the touch sinking in the fabric of his clothes, the light scent of his usual body mist, you haven't smelled him in a while. You haven't touched him in a while, and even with that in mind, you couldn't. You let yourself lean into him, skimming the edge of his level. Something felt manageable all of a sudden.
previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next
THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
The wind was carrying a chill on his skin like it lived on his being, a cold damp fog.
The sun was sinking beneath the homes, and the evening seemed to hold his break with him. He, Ei, and Yae were standing there in front of the familiar door they've all frequented. One leading the way, calm and resolute, the other begrudgingly trailing behind her while his mind gloomed. The third? Amused, eyes glimmering with merriment at the mother-son relationship.
"I reckon you tell them that you'll leave them alone," Yae suggested. "All of it is quite petty, I'm sure they'll understand why we're here to have you two make amends anyway."
"I have no doubt that's what you think, especially since you both love to be resolute bitches about it—"
"Oh? No, continue, I'd love for you to finish that thought." Ei replied, standing tall and unmoving, face of quiet authority. After a brief interlude of his quietude, she ground her teeth. "Do not cross me, you are already in hot water."
Ei's gaze burned into him in front of that door, she knocked, the sound echoing with enough command. Kuni's throat tightened in disgust, mind racing for an immediate escape, any way out of this predicament, but Ei was always one to play her cards well. He was trapped here whether he liked it or not.
The door opened slowly upon looking through the peep hole, revealing you, who looked at all three of them with weariness. "Hello..." You said awkwardly, but there wasn't much of a smile on your face than usual. Kuni's heart skipped a beat, and there was a heavier feeling to the air that he couldn't shake from you. It was easy talking shit to them on the phone, but when he knew something was wrong here, it was strange.
"We won't take up much of your time, I apologize if we burdened you right now!" Yae chirped. "I'm so glad to see you yet again. You get cuter and cuter each time I see you, (Y/N). Like a little button."
You didn't know how to respond to that, frankly, except with a half-hearted smile. Your eyes moved back to the other two, your heart dropping at the situation. Ei's grip on Kuni's hair was sudden and firm, her thin fingers weaving through his mauve filaments with a controlled ease. She forced his head down, tugging him into a bow.
"No more. No more fighting, no more altercations. Apologize, Kunikuzushi," She said, her tone ironclad. "For all of it."
He bit the inside of his cheek, losing the hope he had for this going how he wanted it. He refused to let his own pride be threatened as it roared in seething rebellion. Up his neck creeped humiliation, but his mother's grip tightened. She refused to let go. His head still bowed, he forced the words out, all of the syllables dripping from his lips were involuntary.
"You've been through a lot because of me. I shouldn't have done what I have, and maybe I should have also realized that when I was doing it. I'm still learning how to regulate, it doesn't come to me naturally." Kuni said, hollow, half-hearted. He couldn't help it. Every tendril of his being wanted to rip away from how pathetic this display looked.
He felt their gazes on him, like a lion in a circus, studying his every move and reaction, waiting for him to crack under his own ego. "Oh, you think that's enough?" Yae said, tilting her head. "You're still acting as if this is a game, but there's no place for them anymore. How unfortunate."
"...We will move on from this. Please consider forgiving me in the future, when your heart allows it." Kuni hissed through clenched teeth, fist trembling at his sides. Fury boiled under his skin, but he kept his eyes locked on the ground like he was commanded, avoiding eye contact, wincing at his mother's nails digging into him. "Let me go. You're fucking hurting me."
"Words. All words, but I haven't heard an actual apology yet." Ei replied calmly.
You didn't know how to react still, all of this rushed in your face like it was a surge of energy. You seemed calm and measured, but looking at how your ex-boyfriend was being handled by his mother yet again, watching him struggle with the prospect of even apologizing to you, knowing that you hardly deserved one yourself...it was hard. Too much to deal with right now.
Your heart tightened, eyebrows furrowing as you avoided eye contact with Kuni as well. "...This seems like a waste of time. Get home safely." You said, the emotional storm raging moments before in your mind was rid of promptly, more stoic and irritable with your speech. You turned around, shutting the door quickly behind you, cutting through that moment with air taut like a wire.
To what you thought was normal, infuriated him. Kuni's teeth grinded together, his eyes darkening in annoyance. The way you said that so casually, like you just washed your hands for ten seconds of the entire ordeal and left it. Like you were already miles away from him, digging under his skin tauntingly. You got the last word in, watching him be humiliated under the guise that you deserved that forgiveness.
He couldn't stand it. Being dragged here, forced to grovel, after he had swallowed his own dignity while it tasted raw and bitter in his throat. Spitting out an apology to you...one you hardly had any business responding to. You dismissed him, as if none of what he did matter. As if he didn't matter. It was gnawing at his core, left sweltering in his mess.
His movements were stiff and jerky as he followed the two women to the car, silently fuming. You were not going to take control of what he thought he was warranted.
It was surreal to think that the remains of your brother were in your hands rather than his own arms encompassing you. In those warm, now unfamiliar feeling hugs he gave you.
The day had been spent finalizing the plans for Kazuha's funeral. The weight of your heartache overwhelmed you a lot, especially when Kuni and his family stopped by. The bakery had closed for the day, and your employees, more like family than staff, had insisted on joining you as moral support. You didn't feel comfortable with their continuous acts of kindness towards you, but you accepted anyway. Who were you to deny any more help, anyway?
It was a private funeral, bringing you strange comfort barely anyone except other family members and distant friends knew about it. Their faces softening the edges of your overall sorrow.
You sat in front of the altar with tired eyes, rubbing them to rid of your tears and to ebb the exhaustion. Your hands shook as they rested on the smooth, cold surface of the urn that held his ashes. It wasn't real to you, the only one after your mother's death who was always able to help you live in quiet grace, had been reduced to this. You lived yet again in your sorrow, except extra this time.
With no energy left to think about anything else, the details crafted with care in Kazuha's funeral spoke wonders. The cherry blossoms arranged, incense burning softly, candles delicately flaring. There was nothing left to distract you from the possibility that he was gone.
The filling air of sandalwood neighboring the air while the incense curled smoke into the room. White lilies around a large photograph of Kazuha that you had to retrieve from your mothers room. No longer dusty, but the sanctity of the promise that you kept to Kazuha disappearing as well. You didn't even want to look at it, feeling the sense of betrayal rotten your heart with guilt. He was in the peak of his youth, eyes bright with the amicable, ethereal tranquility of his beaming face. A smile so gentle and sincere, haunting you forever. You never saw the photo before this, and now that you have, it'll follow you like a ghost.
Your flood gates cracked and spurted out, until your tears began to pour out uncontrollably again. Sobs raw and aching as your entire body wracked, echoing through the mildly quiet room. Your body was heavy to you, every bone in your body converting to stone, with a misery so sagacious that you weren't sure if you were stuck there for the next few minutes or hours.
Weeping like a baby, allowing your tears to drip onto your clothes, the memories you could never share with him again, for the future planned that would never come to pass. He died in the past, the reassurance he left you with when you were just breaking up with your ex-boyfriend and you were shattered once again. But not like this, not like how you wept for the moments you had taken for granted with your family. For the times you assumed you would have more time.
Xingqiu, Chongyun, Bennett, Beidou, and Gaming stayed there beside you, presence warm but quiet as they ruminated in the sorrow themself. One by one, they knelt beside you and bowed their heads in respect to the memory of Kazuha, a quiet prayer escaping their lips every now and then that you could hear.
"It's okay," Beidou softly whispered, rubbing your back. "It's okay to take your time. There's nothing wrong with taking a break, kid. Feel out your emotions."
"To you." You choked out, tone exerting a little snappy.
As Beidou's eyebrows raised, your gaze sharpened as you stared at the photo again. This time, a glint of hopelessness and null in your expression.
"I genuinely hope that none of you ever have to feel what it's like to come home, and be crushed by your own dejection. To feel like there's a giant anchor pressing down on your chest, every single second. Pummeling you from the inside out, stripping you down until you're weaker and weaker." Your voice trembled, leaving the rest of them quiet again. "I don't have the luxury to feel out my emotions, or I crumble again. I'm so tired of crumbling."
The following days, the bakery remained open after the funeral. You didn't give yourself time to exactly take a long break. It should have been expected of you, or forced, but the rest of the employees figured it would a better idea to let you do what you need to do to cope with it.
The bakery was dimly lit, with the television in the corner of the room playing Balladeer and the Cult's new music video for the fourth time today. The entire staff were quiet other than the frequent chatter, and the soft clinking of dishes as the workers cleaned up for the night. It was the kind of silence that would tell tales of wonders involving your situation. You were in the back, wrapping everything up and making sure you wrote what needed to be stocked for the morning.
"I like when they do that fun lyrical thing that starts with 'I had my pants on my head like a hat', and ends with...'the police department's refusal to comply in a timely manner with open records request is a middle finger to the marginalized'. You know what I'm saying?" Gaming rambled.
"No clue." Xingqiu said dully.
"They have to make the feds give up early on the song, so they turn it off before they get to the part that calls it out." Chongyun grinned.
"It's like when you steal sandwich bags from the burger shop across the street, and you think the sandwich bags have shit in it, right? No. The entire layout to a compartment of different type of bombs located in Natlan."
"Why are you stealing sandwich bags from them? I'm telling." Xingqiu's eyes narrowed. "Snitching to the court."
"You do that, and I'm not letting you use my Dreamcast anymore. I'm tired of you ratting me out." Gaming scrunched his face up before walking to the back to clean the kitchen with Beidou.
The atmosphere was considerably lax, but there was always a shade of apprehension all of them shared with your newfound attitude. You forced yourself to focus on closing, the others trying to keep a bright side about them. You could only target yourself to think about Kazuha, the pain of absence. Knowing that when you go home, he'll be there, but not as a physical body.
The sound of the front slamming open jarred everybody who heard it, the small bell above the door rattling aggressively against its frame. Chongyun stiffened at the abrupt sound, it being cut short as they all turned toward the person who walked in. The boy's jaw dropped, blinking twice to make sure if who he's seeing wasn't the guy who was just on TV.
"Uh—" He wanted to keep his wits about him and start spilling fan-made excitement, but he was too floored to even do that. "We're...about to close, sir!"
"Not here for bread, or whatever the fuck you guys have. Fetch (Y/N)."
Xingqiu's eyebrows furrowed. "They're...not here right now. If you want to talk to them, come back tomorrow, we'll be open for a while."
"Oh, are they not? Crazy, considering I see their car behind the lot. I checked, don't think I'm one of your little customers." Kuni cut him off, voice dripping with venom as he sized the workers up. "I'm not in the mood. Either go get them now, or I'll run through all of you."
Chongyun hesitated, awkwardly turning his body towards Xingqiu who shrugged in response. He headed towards the back to relay the information, while you were still working. When he reached you, his voice went quiet while he told you what was going on, almost apologetic. Your blood ran cold.
There was an anger that swelled in your chest, hands squeezing into fists. Without a word, you stormed out quickly, expression set with burning fury. The sight of him again, this time in casual clothing and a neutral demeanor, your vision blurred with rage and small guilt. "Why are you here?!" Your voice shook with rage, your voice could barely raise at him. "Haven't you done enough?"
"Have I done enough? Understand this, you bitch," He immediately started coming closer to you. "You're not off the hook for what you did. You may be used to people forgiving you instantly after batting your eyelashes and giggling like fucking Minnie Mouse, but I'm not the one.
"Okay? Then, what do you want from me?!" You grit your teeth. "You say all this, and then have a hard time not being vague. What is it?! Tell me!"
"Coddled your entire life, skipping out on your responsibilities because things got a little hard," He took a step closer, which lead for you to open the distance again. Except this time, his hand swiped the entire row of glasses that were on display down on the wooden floor with a loud crash. Your eyes widened. "Now you get to stay here, complacent in my misery, just because you think you deserve it? I'll take all this shit away from you."
His anger marinated long enough, it bubbled to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. His chest was tight looking at you, suffocating in his grip of emotions he buried deep for too long. Enough was enough, he felt sick with the flour and sugar clinging to every surrounding. Everything was quiet to him here, too perfect. And for him, wrong.
A sneer warped his lips, and there were more crashes. The noise cut through the bakery, the workers flinching, but you couldn't even move. Beidou immediately ran to the front, her face twisted into rage. "Get the fuck out, now! You have no business being in here."
She was about to rush over to kick him out, but you shook your head, subduing her form from going closer. "You're not mad because of me, get your facts straight before you start talking to me like that."
His chest heaved at that, and he could only laugh. The sound of his ragged breaths became aggressive, grabbing at dishes and sending them all careening across the floor with a brutal snap of his wrist. "All of this shit," Another one, the sound harsh against the floor. "ALL OF IT, I want all the good things to fucking rot for the part you played in ruining the good things we had."
Your heart pounded in your ears in moderate fear, louder than the crashes and the gasps coming from the rest of your workers. You felt yourself become suffocated, like there was thick smoke restricting you. Everything felt too tight, your skin and the walls of the bakery itself. He kept shattering your things, breaking every single item that came across his path. There were crimson cuts on his hand, the bleeding on his hands and the glass embedded on his skin making you flinch. He welcomed it.
"Deluding yourself with all of this! You're fucking delusional!" He screamed in your face, "Why can't you wake up and take fucking charge of your own destiny, rather than following a dream you made up because you don't want to be reminded that HE'S FUCKING DEAD. WHERE ARE YOU?"
You could only laugh at him, feeling your cheeks burn from how flustered you were. "Get out." Your voice was dangerously low, trembling as you barely controlled your fury. Those words poisoned you, and tears immediately started rolling down your face, lip quivering.
Kuni just stood there, taking in your words as his breath labored, chest heaving up and down, eyes scanning you in disbelief. But you couldn't stand to see him anymore, because you knew what he was saying about you was true. You grabbed your own glass from the counter and hurled it at him, "Get out," smash, "GET out," smash, "GET THE FUCK OUT."
You grabbed another, and another, before entirely ridding of the glass pieces and started throwing chairs at him for him to swiftly dodge. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, feeling humiliated that you were losing your mind in front of your employees, but you could not do this anymore. "You didn't want to see me anymore, right?! You've got it. Get out! I don't EVER want to see you again."
"So he is dead?" He taunted, voice lower as he started laughing too, his throat hardly making out the sound while it only came out choked as well, too stunned to care. "How's that fantasy working out for you now? At least persistence is a great substitute for actual talent."
Your knuckled connected with his jaw as soon as he leaned in closer, and you fucked him up hard. Sound coming off as a dull thud, followed by a grunt coming from Kuni's throat. You got him in between his lips and the center of his nostrils, causing the crimson blood to sputter immediately once he stepped back. He held onto his nose, instinctively going for his face while his liquid red stained exterior dripped.
The bruise was already beginning to form where your punch had landed. He hadn't expected you to fight back, but something flickered in his eyes. Something that wasn't rage this time, but delightfulness? You stood there, panting, your own hand now pained from how hard the clash was. "Leave," Your voice cracked. "Leave...before I do something worse."
It was obviously a serious reaction, he realized it by the time you were screaming at him. So as the adrenaline dissipated, the power of everything hit him all at once, and he narrowed in on your tear-filled gaze with incredulous relief.
"Welcome back." His pride fought him again to say anything else, so he wiped the blood on his lip, and turned on his heel to leave.
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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
The steps to the house were pretty worn out. You needed to get them fixed soon.
Your eyes fixed on that same towering oak tree that loomed beyond your home. The same branches with a more withered complexion this time, a backdrop to the countless moments you shared with your family. Even though everyone else was gone, the echo of the history stayed there. Though maybe not for much longer, anyway.
It was just a reminder to you. Maybe you didn't want to think much at all about your decisions, but considering you were getting notes from the city on suggestion to have the tree cut down for safety purposes, you were considering it. Despite how peaceful you used to feel when the leaves were whispering candidly in the wind, you couldn't hear them anyway. You were too lost in the sound of your own head screaming from the news, fighting your tears burning in your eyes.
You didn't find the tapes to work anymore. You sat there rewatching them, rewatching him in his state. A permanent staple that would stay in the tape as long as you played it. It was one of the only safe fixes you knew other than the letter, but neither were solving your aches. None of them were getting rid of what was already done.
The sky remained heavy in its thick storm forbidding the city. You thought it was pretty ironic even if it was scheduled today. Without warning, the heavens poured down quickly. You couldn't even find the chance to think about something else without the cold water soaking your clothes almost instantly, sticking to your skin. Even in this predicament, you sat still. Staying drenched and staring at the tree, glazed over eyes roaring an admonitory reminder.
You didn't know how long you were there for. Minutes, or hours, it made no difference to you. All of what you went through in order to ensure your brother was safely home for years and years, all admonished with a single phone call. It was interesting to you how bad you kept yourself in delusion. Thinking heavily that he was alive, keeping others in a lie with you that he was just away.
Your mind buzzed at a higher intensity, body sluggish but finally moving from its spot as you started mindlessly moving. You didn't think about where you were going, soaking wet and shoes mildly squelching as you wandered.
Finding yourself in front of Beidou's door yet again, except this time, the pain seethed harder. Knowing this was the same house you retrieved a piece of your brother. It wasn't mature to admit, but you were hesitant. With only a loud head of your regrets, there stood Beidou as she swung open the door. Her face shifted from confusion to alarm when she noticed your exterior.
"Why are you out here? You didn't even call...?" Beidou began, but stammered as the words fizzled on her tongue at the look in your eyes. Something was awry, something terrible.
For a moment, you stood there not knowing what to say, not even trying to find strength to look into the other's eyes. "They said it was asphyxiation."
Your voice was in a harsh whisper, hardly deciphered in the rain, but Beidou knew what you said. For a moment, she didn’t even react either. She stood there processing, hand still on the doorknob as what you said ruminated between them. The storm went quiet between the two of them, and the brunette’s disbelief broke through.
“No shit…they actually found him.” Beidou responded in disbelief, brows furrowed. Her face contorted in shock as she looked down. She stepped aside slowly, ushering you inside. “C..Come inside, alright? I can’t let you freeze.”
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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
The scent of damp asphalt and the commingle with the icy air didn’t help his senses come to. Kuni didn’t know where else to go that didn’t render less scrutiny of how he operated. Even if it meant he’d be withstanding a bitter bite of a nightly autumn. Mind twisted with the idea of even entertaining your presence, somehow a sickly sweet invitation.
But he didn't enjoy sweets very much. He stumbled out of his car, parking on the curb and holding onto the door. Wearing the remnants of a party that still had some awaiting people expecting him. He clutched the keys in his hand, cigarette smoke clinging to his skin like a ghost. His face, a mess of tear tracks and an old bruise that you gave him.
The purpling around his cheekbone was no problem compared to the letters that he found in his glove compartment that night. Years of hiding it, and handling it on his own, the letters were slightly worn from his lack of care for them. The ink smudged in the places where he was gripping onto them, hands trembling and his edges shabby.
There was a simpler time than this, and he was having a hard time remembering it himself. Mainly because he didn't want to remember it. Back when his former self only stayed a remnant in your head instead of an ugly reminder.
It was the same house he familiarized himself with, but this time, there was no sense of belonging he found. The once golden light he found with you and your family had died, there wasn’t any indication that you were even home other than his phone call to you. His desperate sounding phone call…he cringed.
Kuni hesitated before knocking, but immediately you swung the door open, a snugness immediately enveloping him with the scent of your home. Then it was you, who stood there with stress clouding your gaze, brows kitted together like you were coming across a newfound discovery. He wiped at his face, smudging the remnants of his tears as the bruise pulsates softly.
“Have you been crying..?” You asked in a small whisper, a weight of the things you couldn’t see him admitting anyway. There were freshly baked treats inside awaiting for him to entertain the idea. He didn’t want to be bothered.
“No.” He muttered in a heavy garble, his voice rough as he stared with dead eyes at you. Much like gravel that was kicked down the street.
His lies were smoke that refused to clear. You stared at him, unmoving, taking in his face. Perhaps a lot more adult than when you used to look at him. But while you were, he was also looking for something himself, trying to see anything that may give away your intentions.
You noticed the letters in his hand right away, your heart dropped to your stomach immediately. Something you had the displeasure of dealing with for a good while. Your words failed you, as he was still the same guy that you had the pleasure of falling for. Except this time? It felt bittersweet.
But you didn’t know what he wanted, which made you slump your shoulders. “Why are you here?” Your voice made out, fatigued, weary. The other could tell you were trying not to say anything out of line, but it was there, your exhaustion laced in your frustration.
“I don’t know.”
His own weak and vulnerable exterior he showed made him want to dig into you again and make you scream with him, but he couldn’t put up a front either for the sake of proving something to you. It didn’t mean anything worthwhile anymore. When faced in front of you this time, in his woozy and intoxicated stupor, he couldn’t find the strength to be cruel tonight.
You were about to step aside to let him in, but that wasn’t short of him entirely barreling over onto your body. Kuni’s body finally shut down on him, your hands instinctively wrapped around him while his legs gave out from beneath him. The ground felt swept away from you too, until your back hit the doorframe.
“Hey, come on—” You urgently tried to shake him awake with the strength you could muster, but to no avail. Heat radiated off of him, and you slowly dragged him in and to the couch. His scent thick alcohol, mingling with the piercing smell of cigarettes. His face buried in the crook of your neck, the shallow and quiet remnants of the tears he couldn’t leave unspoken for.
You knew he was awake, because of the soft mumbling you couldn’t hear. You shut the door behind you, awkwardly shifting your weight to the other foot. “I won’t give you anything you don’t want me to, but you have to work with me. You’re not even thinking straight…”
“You’re not fuckin— thinking straight. I don’t need you.” He jumbled, thick with his lessening defiance, even with no true conviction, his voice choked with his own weariness. “Things could have been different, you could have told me I was doing something wrong. Why didn’t you fucking tell me I was doing something wrong?”
You froze, your mind in a blur of what he could even possibly be talking about. You didn’t know what to tell him, other than what you knew, and that was the problem. “I don’t know.” Your voice choked, tears welling up.
“But you knew what she did. You knew why she was so stuck on you.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “You knew I would never have what you did, not even with your mom.”
“Is that why you…hate me so much? You wanted what I have?”
He didn’t respond at first, blinking slowly. He stared at the ceiling to grasp on to the spins he took with a stronghold and kept tight of it. His eyes dull, face flushed with alcohol as his brain rendered murky and tangled. “I wanted to be you.”
You knew he was sobbing before he came here, but it looked different under the light of your home. Like something he kept locked away for a while and tucked into the recesses of his mind, an enigma that was searched for in anguish. His throat bobbing with the effort to hold his sorrows, muscles in his face twitch as he tried to calm himself down. You knew he wanted to say more, but his words were swallowed every chance he found.
Swallowing hard, you felt what impact he wanted to make on you. It settled into your chest, luring you into heartbreak and comfort that you couldn’t seem to shake yet. This was the love of your life at one point, he, who refuses to look in your eye. “Is he actually dead?”
You didn’t want to answer it, nor did you even want to be in the same room as the urn, but you consistently looked at every day. It was a reality that no longer served as a vacant possibility. You slowly nodded, tilting your head towards the shrine you created next to the antiques.
His shoulders slumped, face twisted in anguish as the venom from what he did to hurt you stayed hauntingly between the two of you. "How could you even fucking let me in after that?" His body curled inward, hoping to make the affliction he felt less tangible. Diminishing the palpable discern.
"Because I know you didn't mean it." You finally spoke, voice was light and filled with a quiet sympathy. He looked at you, despite how much your throat tightened, you still persevered. "You just...can't say that to me. Not right now." Your voice cracked. "Or maybe...ever? I don't know."
Kuni’s eyes narrowed as well to look at it, lips parting as if was going to answer, but hardly any words came out instead. His breath was uneven, eyes sliding towards you while staying dull and distant. “Come here.”
The things he says settled over you like a shroud, you defied what he initially said while keeping a stiffened demeanor. You felt your breath get stuck in your throat, a harsh and raw torment. “I should get you something to eat so you can head home…I don’t think you should be here right now—”
“I’m not going to tell you again.” He didn’t waver, and instead, his eyes softened.
You didn’t move, squeezing your eyes as you felt your breath shake this time. You moved closer to him, his lingering desperation transforming into a volatile breach of your boundaries. If you could even recall having any with him at this point.
You quietly sat there in front of him, his body lying there almost still and you remained on the floor. The letters rested on the floor that you flinched at seeing again. He kept them with him, but you hid away the reminders he gave you. A phantom of adoration you shared tucked inside one of the boxes in your storage, the guilt all arose again as you stared deeper into his eyes.
He was the delicate one you always fawned over, doubling over on yourself whenever you saw him. You wondered how it was possible for things to get this screwed up for you. You didn’t want to fight him anymore, you didn’t want to even be on a thin rope with him. Your chest heaved softly, your throat full as you fought your tears, but they fell immediately as a raindrop on glass. Your dam broke, resolve being shattered while your sobs presented itself in uneven gasps.
Kuni didn’t smile at your sobbing this time, though, his hand missing the mark a few times trying to touch your cheek. He grazed your cheek gently, the cool and dark metal band on his middle touching your skin. “Did you mean what you said in those letters?”
You knew what he wanted from you. He wasn’t asking for help, nor forgiveness, but to bear the same distance again. You were heartbroken. “We shouldn't talk about that…”
“Then, admit you did write them, and I’ll leave it alone.” He lulled, tilting his head back a little.
“I did.” You proclaimed weakly. “I said I would be there for you. You were suffering for longer than I have, and a few years later I hear you’re doing amazing for yourself and I was given that opportunity to reconnect without actually facing it. I wanted to take it…I meant every word I said to you in those letters. And I’m sorry.”
“I was suffering for longer?” He repeated, quietly processing before scoffing and retracting his hand back. “My family’s still alive. You sat in here for years, letting everyone’s dust collect, in silence waiting for them to come back. You came back home after everything. You couldn’t do anything else but that, all you had were those two evil witches.”
Your lip trembled, the corners of your mouth pulling down while you put your face in your hands. A storm built behind your eyes. “And you.” You sobbed, “You meant so much to me.”
His eyes narrowed slowly, something indescribable crossing his expression. He watched you unravel, not exactly comfortable with shrugging it off, but unsure to confront you about it. “Yeah,” His voice came out groggy. “That’s the sad part.”
“You can’t say that to me,” More tears spilled over you. “You’re not a bad person for wanting what I got, it’s me for taking advantage of it.”
“You were never a bad person, (Y/N).” He sighed, his body screaming at him to turn away from you. Watching you cry was seething, but with that frustration bleeding him dry, it was obvious he was tired of pleading with you through hostile speech. “Sleep easier at night knowing that.”
“Then why did you leave me?” You choked out, wiping your face with your shaky hands. “Why did you shut me out so bad? I needed you, too.”
His eyes grew heavier, feeling an eventual loss of his former alertness. Even if it wasn’t the same home with the once two other people who lived here, he still could smell the same smells of the past he kept at the back of his mind. “You didn’t even have yourself, what did you need me for?”
And he was right. The amount of energy you put in everything around was indicator of that. Paying attention to how everything else was so you kept the quality of what you put together solid, and then giving little to no effort in finding a life away from finding your brother was practically nonexistent. You were the one person you didn’t love, while loving everyone else with open arms.
You lowered your head to the letters he dropped on the floor again, feeling your heart sink again. “I’m sorry, Zushi,” You wailed. “I’m really sorry.”
Your tears were hot and relentless, to which he couldn’t stand the sight of anymore. He reached his hand to the back of your head and pulled you down to his chest, an awkward gesture of his own comfort, but he stayed with you like this. The swirling of his vision slowly fading as he fought sleep.
“We can’t try again.” He bit out, through struggling resilience. “I promised myself back then, if I ever were to do this to you, that it will be the last chance I have. You need to move on, and I'm sorry that...I have to be the one to tell you that.”
"...Were you just forcing yourself that entire time to love me, then?" You whispered to him between snivels, your voice hardly even heard. The tears clung to your lashed, trembling there for a moment before leaving damp tracks on your skin.
"Don't delude yourself," He sighed, losing the battle with staying awake. "You were the only one I could love."
His voice faded, his eyes struggling to stay open, but the position he was in when he pushed your head down remained. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up, so you sat there all night, your head against his chest while your tears ran down endlessly, giving yourself quiet and abrupt chances to breathe. His truth pierced you like daggers, but you may have been too optimistic.
You didn’t know how you ended up sleeping in that position for so long, but by the next day, he was gone. Checking the time, it was seven in the morning. He left in the middle of the night.
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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
