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pathetic-dumpling · 3 years

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Coming to Terms

Dream has been having a bad day, which has quickly turned into a bad week. Techno and Phil both need to go out and do essential tasks around the tundra, but they can't leave Dream alone either. So... they find a babysitter. words: 5,188 - read on ao3 instead

CW: overstimulation, implied panic attack, unintentional self-harm, referenced abuse

Dream has been having a bad day. Correction, he’s been having a bad week. He’s been caught in a bit of a spiral for the last several days, and the exhaustion from an attempt at healing keeps dragging him down before he can get out. The last thing Techno wants to do is leave Dream alone like this, but he and Phil have already pushed off as many necessary tasks as they can. They need to head out, but they can’t leave Dream alone… So in comes the Syndicate.

They consider a few people. Niki is chosen.

“Look, all you need to do is watch him for a day. We’ll be back by the end of it, and you can leave, alright?”

Niki scrunches her face up, which is, in all honesty, reasonable. She’s one of the people who didn’t want to interact with Dream, but Techno and Phil are running desperately low on options.

“Is there anyone else?” She asks. “What about Puffy? She’s a therapist, right? Wouldn’t she be more equipped for something like this?”

“A, we don’t want more people knowing about Dream than necessary, and she’s already refused to give Dream treatment. B, we don’t trust her to not psychoanalyze Dream when he really doesn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Plus, we don’t know what kind of domestic issues there are because Dream hasn’t opened up about that part of his life yet.”

Niki winced. “What about Ranboo?”

“Well, you see, Ranboo’s been growing into himself recently,” Phil interjects, beside Techno. “Which is good, by all means, but that also means he’s been embracing that he’s a little bit of a dick sometimes. You’re literally the only person we can think of who can be… pleasant and hold your tongue around Dream.”

“And- and we don’t wanna sound misogynistic,” Techno quickly adds. “This isn’t a ‘the kind woman puts up with the toxic man’ situation; it’s just… Dream is fragile right now, like, really fragile, and we’re pretty sure you’re the only person who has the kind of self-restraint to not break him any more, you know?”

Niki raises a brow but ultimately sighs. “This is your only option?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil laughs.

“...alright. I’ll watch him. One day, got it?”

“Oh my gods, thank you so much, Niki.”

So Niki is given keys to the house. Mentally, she prepares for whatever Dream might try. She saw him, briefly, in a Syndicate meeting or two, but only between several layers of fabric and zero spoken words. She doesn’t know what he’s like if he’s grown out of his… nastier habits yet. Techno has done everything in his power to tell the Syndicate that Dream has changed, but none of them have actually seen any change. Niki kind of doubts it, if she’s being honest, but she trusts Techno’s judgment more than anything. She knows Techno wouldn’t lie to her and lead her on like others in the past.

She wakes up the following day when things are still dark. Niki can see her breath, even within the small haven of an underground city warmed by countless fires and lanterns. She throws on her Syndicate cloak, getting ready to head out to the arctic. Hopefully, Techno didn’t want her to do anything with the animals because she definitely wouldn’t be able to stand being outside for that long. When she arrives, Techno thanks her profusely. He pledges to show her around the house and offers a few tips while Phil gets ready for their trip outside.

“Alright.” Techno swings his hands by his sides. Niki has noticed he’s stopped clapping them when he begins to speak. “First things first, Dream hasn’t eaten in, like, three days, so we really need you to try to get him to eat something. His diet has been pretty limited so far, but we left a list of things he’s been able to eat so far on the counter. Try to stay fresh- anything stale makes him throw up, and so does steak. Don’t offer it. We keep apples in a little icebox downstairs because he likes fruit cold. Also, Dream likes himself cold, too. He gets anxious when he’s hot.

“If Dream hides in his room, he’s most likely hiding under his bed. If you need to interact with him during that time, do not try to pull him out. That will scare him and he might bite. Instead, just kind of lay on the floor and face him and just… wait until he’s ready to talk. If you try to push him, he’ll probably just curl up more, and he tends to get really distant for the next day or two when that happens.

“If he asks for something, it means that he needed it about three hours ago and has only now gotten the courage to ask for it. Even if he prefaces it between a lot of ‘only if you want to’ and ‘you don’t have to,’ don’t believe him. We’re trying to teach him that asking for things is good but it’s been a bumpy ride. Also, he’s iffy on touch; I’d say it’s better to not try.”

Techno stops, tapping his lip. “Try not to let him outside without supervision; we haven’t really been able to block off potential hazards yet. Other than that, I think that’s everything. Dream is sleeping right now, but he knows you’ll be here. He might get startled anyway. Try not to stare or anything. It makes him uncomfortable. Just treat him like a nervous cat or something.”

Niki blinks, trying desperately to process all of the information that was just dumped on her. Techno waits patiently as she mentally backtracks and tries to commit everything to vague memory. Nervous cat? That’s what the ruler of the server has turned into?

“Okay… I think I got all of that?” Niki says, hoping she got everything she truly needed down. She knows how awkward things get when she or Techno has to start repeating themselves.

“Cool.” Techno sighs, running a hand through his hair until it gets caught in his braid. “A nervous, injury-prone cat… That’s Dream. Thank you for doing this, really. Dream just started being okay with being in the same room as boiling water, and I think I might have a breakdown if I have to leave to make tea again. This means a lot. Anything you need from us, me or Phil, we’ll be happy to help as soon as we get back.”

Niki nods. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be on the agenda when I joined the Syndicate, but I’m happy to help you, Techno.”

“Of course.” Techno bows his head. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Again, don’t let him… do anything to himself, okay?”

Niki gives another nod and a thumbs up. “You can count on me, Techno.”

Techno gives a strained smile and then, awkwardly, does a slight bow before leaving. His muffled voice filters through the door as he calls out to Phil, and then they head out. Niki takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing as she watches the silhouettes of her friends disappear over the horizon.

Alright. She can do this. She may not like Dream, but she did agree as a part of the Syndicate to… help. This is just for Techno and Phil, to keep them from worrying. To watch Dream and make sure he doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t. Niki could do that. In fact, she was happy to keep the man out of trouble, if it were for Techno’s sake. Now she just needed to find something to do until there was someone to watch.

Niki glances around the house, finding things pleasantly clean. The chests were a bit of a mess, but things weren’t lying all over the place, and it looks like it’s been cleaned recently. It looks like the house has been somewhat baby-proofed, too, which makes a little chuckle bubble in Niki’s throat. They’ve only been housing Dream, and he’s certainly a grown man, isn’t he? What would they need to keep him out of drawers for?

Niki gets to entertaining herself with one of Techno’s many book recommendations, making a tiny home for herself on the couch. She opens the blinds and curtains, letting any sort of light filter in as much as it can. The sun is slow to rise in the arctic, and candlelight can only do so much. Slowly, as the sun rises over the north, Niki finds herself growing more hungry, so she starts making some food. It gets bright soon after that, lighting up the room with the near-blinding rays of the sun. Niki adjusts soon enough, simply happy to have more than enough reading light.

A few hours later, after Niki has already eaten and taken care of her share of the dishes, Dream emerges. The first thing she notices is that he’s completely maskless. Secondly, he looks exhausted to the bone, drowned in a dark green jacket and a black shirt underneath. Loose-fitting pants cover Dream’s legs, almost completely hiding his figure from view. Dream’s eyes are dark, his posture slouched inward, and his hair is messy, long, and frail. He looks unbearably tense. His eyes squint at how bright it is, but he tries to shake it off quickly with a flick of his hands. He does a quick double-take on Niki, eyes darting around the room before relaxing slightly. His attention never leaves her, though. His gaze makes a shiver crawl up Niki’s spine.

“Good morning, Dream!” She says politely because maybe Dream is worse in the mornings.

Dream waves tiredly, and Niki notices his bandaged finger. Something about it looks off until she realizes it’s too short to be normal, missing nearly the entire first section. She wonders how it happened, how she’s never noticed before. Dream takes his bandaged hand, dragging it down his face. He lets out a long sigh, sitting down at the circular table in the kitchen, leaning heavily on it for support. He raises his hands, and although they tremble and shake, Niki recognizes one thing. Dream is signing.

Oh. It looks like Technoblade forgot to mention one thing.

“Oh!” She says quickly, tucking her book into her chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know sign language.”

Dream, from the table, raises a brow at her. He raises his hands, signing what Niki can only assume is: you don’t know sign?

“I always meant to learn, but the only people who use it actively on the server are Callahan and….”

Me. Niki can guess that one well enough.

“Yes… you. I’m sorry.”

Dream waves his hand dismissively. He gestures for a pen, which Niki retrieves without much hesitance. She may not like Dream, but she still needs to communicate with him if this day even has a chance at going well. She places the pen and small pad of paper on the table, stepping back quickly. Dream lets out a long breath before beginning to write.

I’ll show you some stuff I probably won’t be able to translate in the moment, Dream writes. Writing looks a little more challenging with the ever-present tremor in Dream’s hands and his shortened finger, but he makes do. He writes down a few simple words: can’t, stop, no, sorry, and shows the signs for each of them. Niki furrows her brow.

“These are all negative responses. What about… ‘yes’?”

Dream struggles to meet Niki’s eyes for a second, looking away almost immediately. He seems borderline uncomfortable. Slowly, he curls his hand into a fist, nodding it forward twice.

“Yes?” Niki asks in conformation.

Yes.

Niki nods, trying to commit this information, like everything else dumped on her today, to memory. Dream drops the pen after that, cradling his hands in his lap. They certainly… don’t stop shaking. Hm. Niki would ask about it, but she doesn’t really want to poke at any boundaries. Dream fiddles with his fingers, beginning to bounce his leg.

“Em-” Niki starts, catching Dream’s attention and picking at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Techno told me that you should probably eat today, right? I made food a few hours ago, but I can make something for you or….”

Dream waves his hands, furiously shaking his head. He scribbles down variants of I’m not hungry, and you don’t have to, which Niki isn’t given a chance to object to. Dream carefully gets up, grabbing the notepad beside him and pushing past Niki. He makes his way over to the couch, plopping himself down and sighing. Niki watches him, unsure of what entirely to do. She knows what Techno told her, but there was only so much that was truly in her power. It didn’t help how dismissive Dream appeared to be with her attempts at offering him food.

This Dream is… new, to say the least. She didn’t know the old Dream outside of what she heard from her peers, but she especially doesn’t know this Dream. Is he better? Does he know that what he’s done is bad? Terrible? Unforgivable, even? Does he regret it at all, or does he just think he’s a victim in all of this?

It takes two more attempts at getting Dream to eat before Niki’s patience starts running a little slim. She’s never had the time to talk to Dream before, but right now, he just seems nothing more than tired. He looks fine, if not a little skinny, maybe a little quiet. For all Niki knows, this could be a ploy, a trick, to live the high life off of Techno’s dedicated care and then run off into the woods. Niki feels a little nasty for thinking this, but what if Dream is just faking this all? What if he’s just playing it up for show and sympathy? To get free protection while his next plan brews quietly in the background? She’s heard about the lengths Dream was willing to go to in the past; what would make this different? She knows how convincing an actor Dream can be, and dedication to a part can take someone a long way.

Well… Now is as good of a time as ever to get a few things off her chest, Niki supposes. If Dream isn’t faking, he’ll have some kind of genuine reaction, and if he is, then, well… Niki can keep her friends from getting used again. It’s a win-win, really.

“You know, you’re very lucky Techno decided to care for you so much,” she says from the kitchen because the distance makes her feel safer. “He didn’t have to do all of this, you know? It’d certainly be easier for him to have ignored your favor. I would’ve.”

From behind, Niki hears a sharp intake of breath, but no objections come. Niki looks behind her at Dream, still sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and staring at her. He swallows, eyes darting to the side like he’s sorting through his thoughts. He gestures at Niki, a sort of go-on movement, so she turns around and continues. “Things like Wilbur, Doomsday, the festival, you played a role in all of those, you know? You’ve been the authority figure of the server for so long. You-- you had control over exile and Tommy and… Everything you’ve done, it’s hurt all of us. It’s- it’s hurt me, and I-”

There’s a loud, distinct sniffle behind Niki. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, finding Dream curled up on the couch. He brings his knees up to his chest, pressing tightly into himself. He’s looking to the side, almost shameful. His shoulders are shaking.

“...Dream?” Niki asks. Maybe this is the genuine reaction she’s looking for.

Dream nods sharply. He looks up, meeting Niki’s eyes, his own glassy and red and wet. His eyes fill with tears, so he quickly hides his face again, pressing it into the arm wrapped around his knee. It feels like he’s forcing himself to keep his gaze on Niki, and that information tastes a little bitter going down Niki’s throat. He lifts his head just enough to meet Niki’s eyes again, folding his hand into a half square and pressing it to his temple. Niki doesn’t know the sign, but she doesn’t need to.

I know, he says. I know.

Dream takes a shuddering breath, fingers dancing across the parts of the body he’s gripping. They speed up and slow down as he filters his thoughts, eventually coming to a standstill. He grabs his notepad with trembling hands, scribbling down something hastily, ripping out the paper, and holding it out for Niki while hiding himself. Nervously, Niki steps forward because the memory of powerful and quick and ruthless Dream has never left her, even when presented with the sight of the trembling man before her.

I know, the paper says. I want to listen. But not today. I can’t today.

Niki swallows. She looks at Dream, trembling and crumbling in on himself, and nods. “Okay,” she says. “I understand. I… I’m sorry. That was out of line, I...”

Dream nods quickly and sharply. His fingers tap quickly against his leg. Niki feels awkward, standing in front of Dream like this as he fidgets and shuffles. She puts a little distance between the two of them, retreating back to the kitchen. The house is plunged into a small period of unrelenting silence. Niki wished that she knew at least a little sign because maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward. Dream doesn’t look all too thrilled to be talking with her either way, though, so perhaps it was wishful thinking. He’s running a hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the long strands every few seconds.

Niki frowns. Has Techno told her anything about how to handle something like this? Sorting through her memory quickly tells Niki that, no, Techno hadn’t spilled anything helpful for a time like this. He’d asked Niki to make sure Dream didn’t do anything to himself, but certainly, he wasn’t that much of a danger to his own wellbeing, right? Techno had mentioned some other useful things, but he seems to have forgotten some details Niki would’ve loved to have. She sighs.

Niki supposes that the best she can do right now is swallow her words and try to be helpfully polite. To, in kinder words, simply watch Dream. She tried to ask him about some things here or there but mostly ended up talking at Dream instead of with him. That’s okay, Niki didn’t mind. She didn’t really go into today expecting some sort of riveting conversation, and the one she’d already tried to have ended oh-so-splendidly.

Suddenly, the sound of Dream’s stomach growling caught her attention. Niki looked back from her chunk of dough that she’d started kneading to fill the silence at Dream, who was caught like a deer in headlights. He looked to her quickly before starting off on what Niki thinks is a garbled bundle of excuses about how he wasn’t hungry again. Niki laughs kindly, making Dream’s hands pause mid-air.

“I’ll go get you an apple or something,” she says, running her hands under the sink to wash off the extra flour. “Techno showed me where everything was before you woke up. I’ll be back in just a second. Stay put, okay?”

Dream nods, hiding his face and giving a small thumbs up. The trip downstairs is quick, only interrupted by a skulk of three foxes Techno apparently kept in his basement. The box with cooled fruit was propped up, probably to keep the foxes out of it, Niki mused, if the scratch marks on the side were anything to go off of. Dream was sitting in virtually the exact same position Niki had left him in, nervously glancing at her when she approached. At least he’s good at following directions, Niki noted. She held out the apple, waited a long few seconds for Dream to take it, then set it on the table next to him. Dream’s eyes watched her with rapt attention, almost like he was afraid she was suddenly going to turn around and attack him.

After that little experience, Niki went back to kneading dough as pleasantly as she could. She couldn’t explain the small smile that crept onto her lips when the inevitable crunch of an apple being eaten hit her ears after minutes of silence. Niki chalks it up to the fact that Techno would be happy that Dream ate and tries to move on from it as passively as she can.

Shuffling fills the corners of the house between the clanging of various pans and Niki’s humming. Dream had come a little closer, sitting stiffly at the counter and watching Niki work after throwing his apple core into Carl’s stable from the window. He keeps the notepad close to him, bouncing the pen back and forth against the solid surface. Niki greets him and starts explaining what she’s doing, to which Dream nods along. She tries to suggest Dream join the baking whenever she can, moving pans around and into the sink when they’ve become dirty. Dream’s eyes follow her hands as she gestures around, eyebrows twitching downward every few seconds. Every semi-loud sound makes his eyes blink in surprise and something else Niki can’t quite place. It goes on like this for about half an hour, with various levels of participation coming from Dream.

Eventually, he begins to look more and more lost in thought, distracted, even borderline frustrated, eventually dropping his pen roughly and tapping his pointer finger against the counter. His other hand goes to his hair, pulling, as a small whimper tumbled into the air. Dream’s nail makes a quick tap, tap, tap that sounds borderline panicky, only increasing in speed. His shoulders are tense, and because Niki is so used to providing comfort to those unscarred by touch, she reached out for his shoulder.

Dream jerks away as soon as her hand meets his shoulder, a small, distressed noise leaving his throat. He stumbles onto shaky legs, looking almost as if Niki burned him. Niki, in return, pulled her hand back to her chest. Dream holds up a finger, a small give me a moment, before distancing himself. He hangs his head and holds up his hands, shaking them out almost violently as he paces the living room.

“Dream?” Niki begins to ask, watching the man pace and shake his hands. What was he doing? What was going on?

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sharp yelp when Dream suddenly turns and pushes over a chair. This is still Dream at the end of the day, and once upon a time, he was terrifying and dangerous. Niki clamps her hands down over her mouth to keep any further sound from escaping when it makes Dream flinch. His breath picks up in shakiness and speed until a loud crash makes the house go silent.

Dream’s head whips around, finding a pile of shattered glass on the floor next to the chair he flipped over and the table it apparently took on its way down. He stares at it for a good, long second, the breath stolen from his lungs. A quick, strangled sob leaves Dream’s mouth as he drops to his knees, scrambling for the glass pieces. Hot, fat tears fill the corners of Dream’s eyes. His hands are shaking so much it makes the glass pieces he picks up clink against each other. Almost desperately, Dream tries to wipe away the tears, and Techno’s worry about Dream hurting himself suddenly becomes much more apparent as the world catches up to Niki.

“Oh- Dream, no, we- let’s not-” Niki drops to her knees beside Dream, holding her hands out gently. “Let’s not do that, okay? You’ve got glass in your hands.”

Dream doesn’t stop. The tears and sobs only spilling harder and faster. Niki doesn’t think this can get any worse, so she slowly puts her hand over Dream’s, grasping it and pulling it away gently. There’s no resistance, even as Dream digs his chin into his chest. Pricks of blood are already forming on scratches left on Dream’s cheeks from the glass, quickly mixing with tears. Dream starts signing something frantically, and Niki doesn’t know what he’s saying, but, oh, she wishes she did.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niki tries. “Are you worried Techno will be angry?”

Dream nods, choking on another sob.

“I’m sure he won’t be!” Niki presents her hands, cupped, to Dream again. “He really cares about you, alright? He won’t be mad over a broken cup, okay?”

Dream makes a strangled sound that almost sounds like a “but” as he snaps his head up to face Niki.

“No. No buts.” Niki pushes her hands forward pointedly. “I’ll clean up the glass, okay? I think you should go lay down on your bed and rest. Calm down a little, alright? I’m supposed to be here to help, and Techno would be upset if you hurt yourself. I’ll let you know when everything’s been taken care of.”

Shakily, Dream brings his free hand up to his face, fingers touching the newly formed cuts as his lips trace Niki’s words. His eyes go wide, pressing down on the tiny bubbles of blood forming. He drops the glass into Niki’s hands, staggering up with a sharp breath. He mutters something too faint for Niki to catch before disappearing into his room. Niki picks up the rest of the glass, her hands thankfully much steadier than Dream’s own despite what just happened. Periodically, she glances up to Dream’s room, watching, waiting.

She isn’t quite sure what she’s waiting for, maybe for him to come bursting out, angry at being coddled, or perhaps for him to come slinking back with shaky hands and hot tears and try to help again. Whatever it is, it never comes.

Carefully, Niki spends a few minutes making sure no shards had spread out over the house or that she misses any finite pieces. After her searches come back clean, Niki moves to the knocked-over furniture. She rights the table and chair Dream had knocked over, huffing out a small sigh of relief. The living room was clean again, thankfully. She hopes Techno won’t be mad. That would just make her look bad when Dream was so clearly distressed over the whole ordeal.

At the thought of Dream, Niki makes her way over to his room. She knocks, the wood giving way and opening up into the small room. Dream lays on his bed, curled up into a ball, and appears to be fast asleep. The blankets look almost deliberately untouched around him. Niki steps into the dark room, noting the closed blinds on his window. Everything is kept down to nearly a depressing minimum, the only trace of life in the room being the messy, yet unmoved, sheets and a single flowerpot laying on a chest.

It would be better to let him sleep, Niki thinks. The room is kept cold, and Niki doesn’t want Dream to get sick, so she decides to drape the untouched sheets over Dream’s sleeping form. As she pulls up the blankets around the sleeping body, though, Dreams’ eyes flutter open, and his body tenses. He turns his head to watch her silently.

“I’ve cleaned up the glass, so the living room is good to be in again,” Niki offers. She pulls her hands away, crouching down so she doesn’t loom over Dream. “I was going to let you sleep; sorry for waking you.”

Dream shrugs, not really looking like he had been sleeping in the first place. He sits up, glancing at the sheets pooling around him. Dream glances around, scrubbing at his face and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Despite Niki’s protests, he gets up and shuffles his way into the living room. His eyes fall on the now empty space on the table, sucking in a soft, shuddering breath. Niki comes to stand beside him.

“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m not angry, and they won’t be either, okay?”

Dream’s eyes flit from the table down to Niki. His body, slouched forward, leans a little closer to her as he nods silently. He looks back to the room, eyes squinting. He shoves his hands in his pockets and produces the pen and paper he’d kept on him; scribbling down, can you close the blinds? Niki smiles. She needs to encourage him to ask for things, too.

“Sure.”

Dream makes a home for himself on the couch. He eyes Niki’s book and they make idle chatter over it, Niki sitting across from him in the chair. They slide the notepad between each other on the table, both patiently waiting for the other to read or write before responding. Dream apologizes for the outburst. He said that he was feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t had to deal with something like that in a long time. The apology was accepted. Niki even manages to get a small laugh out of Dream, one that tugs gently on his throat and makes his chest stutter. It’s nice to see Dream’s smile, the way it cracks his face as he chuckles to himself. Somehow, it’s the most pride she’s felt in a while.

When Niki gets up to make herself some food, Dream takes her up on the offer to eat together. The list Techno left with what Dream could eat suddenly became very useful when preparing dinner. He doesn’t eat much and apologizes about it, for the hassle he must be causing, but it was what Niki was expecting anyway. Dream goes to sleep soon after that, pausing at his door and sending a quick, earnest thank you to Niki. She smiles.

“You’re welcome, Dream.”

Techno wasn’t mad, and neither was Phil. They seemed more focused on the fact that Dream actually ate a decently sized meal for the first time that week than anything else. Dream, who was hovering in the back, made sure to send Niki off with a little wave.

If she feels a little protective over him during the next Syndicate meeting, that was only her business. If she spoke in a hushed tone and kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble, it was just general caution mixed with a bit of care. When she brought the loaves of bread with her on a visit, they were for Techno, Phil, and Dream, but she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of excitement that bloomed in her chest when Phil suggested Dream learn how to bake to help with tremors and outbursts.

If she let Dream into her stash or secret recipes for pies and bread, it stayed between them. Dream promised to keep them secret, and Niki didn’t doubt him. He smiled at her one day, growing nicely into the freckles that had started to speckle his skin, while his third batch of experimental dough was baking. Niki couldn’t help but smile back.

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kuroosweakness · 3 years

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main masterlist pt. 2 here:

this is pt. 2 of everything i’ve written! this is organized by chronological order and is updated about every three-five days :)

⇢ pt 1

general:

toxic things the haikyuu boys might do

haikyuu boys apologizing for the toxic things they did

haikyuu boys and random annoying things they might do

haikyuu boys reacting to “i need to get my clothes back from my ex”

akaashi and kuroo when their s/o compliments another guy

suna, sakusa, osamu being away from their s/o for two weeks

haikyuu boys and your relationship with them based on pinterest pictures pt. 1

-> pt. 2

-> pt. 3

-> pt. 4

the type of boyfriend to:

requested:

atsumu, osamu, kita, suna when they forget their lunch and their s/o visits them

aone, fukunaga, and shirabu with a really huggy s/o on her period

kageyama, ushijima, and hoshiumi when their s/o is scared of thunder because it reminds of them of their parents’ yelling

sakusa, ushijima, and akaashi comforting their s/o after a nightmare

iwaizumi when his s/o wants him to lay on their stomach

oikawa, sugawara, and atsumu comfort hcs

tsukishima, oikawa, and sugawara with a s/o who has a toxic friend and feels powerless

kageyama, ushijima, and hoshiumi when their s/o is scared of thunder because it reminds of them of their parents’ yelling

sakusa, ushijima, and akaashi comforting their s/o after a nightmare

iwaizumi when his s/o wants him to lay on their stomach

oikawa, sugawara, and atsumu comfort hcs

tsukishima, oikawa, and sugawara with a s/o who has a toxic friend and feels powerless

iwaizumi, akaashi, tsukishima comfort hcs

tsukishima, yamaguchi, sugawara when their s/o has a school stress related panic attack

kuroo, kenma, and oikawa comforting their chubby s/o who feels insecure

akaashi when his s/o has a nightmare from a horror movie

how bokuto, yamaguchi, and kenma act around their crush

aone, asahi, and kenma crushing on dancer y/n

atsumu, iwaizumi, and daichi when their s/o has an anxiety attack

tsukishima, bokuto, and tanaka reassuring their s/o that they’re pretty

tsukishima, koganegawa, ennoshita when their s/o feels numb

bokuto when his s/o’s car breaks down

akaashi, sugawara, oikawa when their s/o has a panic/anxiety attack

akaashi, aone, and sugawara comforting their s/o

tsukishima, ennoshita, and oikawa with a s/o who has an inferiority complex

tsukishima when his s/o is in pain but won’t let him touch their wrist

kenma, tsukishima, daichi, bokuto, and lev falling for their new manager

sugawara and yamaguchi with an s/o who has auditory processing disorder

sugawara, kenma, and akaashi with a s/o who has depression

sugawara and kuroo with a s/o who’s insecure about their face

tsukishima when his extroverted s/o lets out her bottled emotions

bokuto and oikawa with a svicidal s/o

bokuto comfort hcs

tsukishima with a s/o who is prone to panic attacks and stresses easily

akaashi, sugawara, oikawa, and kuroo telling their s/o to slow down in school work and rest

kuroo, osamu, and sakusa when their s/o who has emetophobia is feeling nauseous

iwaizumi, suna, osamu with a s/o who’s reluctant of asking people for help when needed

kenma helping his s/o overcome difficult situations

sugawara comforting hcs with his tall gf

kuroo, atsumu, iwaizumi with a s/o who has a differently abled younger sibling

sakusa and osamu with a tall gf

tsukishima, lev, and ushijima with a s/o who shakes really bad when they get nervous

akaashi and kita helping a s/o who gets anxious with panic attacks when doing schoolwork

tsukishima and tendou comforting s/o who’s having a hard time

tsukishima, akaashi, kita, and osamu comforting s/o who got a bad grade even though they put in a lot of effort

tendou, bokuto, and akaashi with a s/o who has adhd and tics/stims

kuroo, akaashi, osamu, and kita comforting their s/o crying over not having motivation anymore

kuroo, sugawara, and akaashi comforting their s/o when they lose motivation to do school work because they don’t understand

tsukishima, lev, and goshiki comforting their s/o struggling with home life

akaashi, sakusa, and suna with a short s/o

sakusa and kenma helping out their s/o when they’re having a panic attack at a family dinner

sakusa, kenma, tsukishima comforting their s/o who feels insecure and compares themselves to pretty friends/models

akaashi, tsukishima, and sakusa comforting s/o who’s going through a depressive episode

akaashi and bokuto comforting s/o whose dad just got diagnosed with cancer

karasuno’s reaction to tsukki and his bf on a date

tsukishima, kenma, and nishinoya finding s/o’s fresh self-harm scars

tsukishima, iwaizumi, and yamaguchi with an s/o whose parent just got diagnosed with cancer

kuroo, bokuto, tsukishima, and osamu comforting their s/o over a loved one’s death

sakusa, matsukawa, iwaizumi when their s/o’s parents fat shames her before a holiday meal

sugawara, kuroo, and oikawa comforting their s/o who’s having flashbacks

sakusa, tendou, and kuroo comforting their s/o who’s sitting on the ground with a blanket wrapped around them, staring into nothing with tears in their eyes

tendou, kuroo, and bokuto with a s/o who has borderline personality disorder

sakusa’s gf on her period comfort hcs

sakusa, tendou, and kuroo with a s/o who has bipolar 2 disorder

atsumu, kita, and oikawa comforting their s/o who’s traumatized from horror movies

iwaizumi’s s/o comes out as asexual

tendou comfort hcs

kenma when his s/o has migraines

iwaizumi unknowingly trigger his s/o’s eating disorder

~~~

fukurodani, shiratorizawa, aoba johsai, and nekoma with a child-like fem!manager

gaming date with kenma

kuroo, kenma, and suna when their s/o’s parents are divorcing

oikawa, bokuto, nishinoya, and akaashi with a s/o with scars

atsumu, suna, and iwaizumi when they talk in a baby voice without knowing their s/o is filming

atsumu and suna with a s/o who’s a fine arts student

akaashi, atsumu, and kenma when their s/o doesn’t say “i love you” back

haikyuu characters reacting to girlfriend liking yaoi

when his s/o loses the will to live: sugawara koshi

with a moody s/o: lev, tsukishima, oikawa

~~~

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others: osamu, atsumu, suna

comforting his s/o from family fights: lev, sugawara, aone

with a clingy s/o : kuroo, oikawa, bokuto, tsukishima

with a female s/o who’s really similar to kenma: sugawara

drunk hcs: tendou, kuroo, and kita

domestic life drabbles: osamu, akaashi

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others : ushijima, daichi, kuroo

kuroo dating their third-year manager who has a soft spot for lev

karasuno’s manager who won’t hesitate to verbally murder them but cannot be mad at nishinoya and hinata

comforting s/o from drawbacks: kuroo tetsurou

comforting s/o who’s freaking out over finals and major projects: oikawa, sugawara, atsumu

kuroo, kenma, bokuto, and akaashi as a squad comforting y/n and cheering her up

s/o having a hard time: tsukishima, kenma, suna

~~~ dec. 12th - dec. 14th

s/o has an anxiety attack in front of him: terushima

s/o recovering from an eating disorder and is starting to count calories again: tsukishima, kenma

with a tall s/o who can be really clingy and touch deprived: nishinoya

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others: oikawa, iwaizumi

helping his s/o who has trouble dealing with their self-harm addiction: tsukishima, akaashi, bokuto

with a jealous s/o: tsukishima, lev, oikawa

coming out to his team with his male s/o who is also on the team: kuroo, bokuto

comforting his s/o who is stressed out about finals: tsukishima, sakusa, suna

with an epileptic s/o who has a seizure while hanging out: tendou, koganegawa, and goshiki

when a short and pretty stranger asks him to take something from the top shelf: suna, koganegawa, lev

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others: semi, kenma, bokuto

with a s/o who has gen z humor: tendou satori

“my boyfriend is coming” tiktok trend: kageyama, kuroo, tendou

with a s/o with body hair: oikawa, akaashi, kuroo

~~~ dec. 14th - dec. 21st

when his pretty and quiet s/o wants his attention: atsumu, sakusa, tsukishima

comforting his s/o going through an extremely hard time with an absent/uncaring father figure: sakusa, oikawa, ushijima

with a s/o with body hair: kageyama, kenma, osamu

reassuring his s/o that they’re not annoying and that they deserve love: kuroo, daichi, sugawara

kiyoko with a chubby s/o who is insecure and feels like they need to change themselves for her

how the teams would react to finding out about their adorable manager’s traumatic past: karasuno, fukurodani, shiratorizawa, nekoma, inarizaki, aoba johsai

s/o who is stressed while on their period: suna, sakusa

comforting his s/o who yearns for love and affection but feels like they don’t deserve love: kuroo, akaashi, suna

comforting s/o having a mental breakdown because of school and other problems: ushijima, bokuto, aone

s/o stops walking to see how far they go without noticing that they’re not following anymore: tiktok trend

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others: kageyama, sakusa

comforting s/o who feels undeserving of love and extremely lonely: tendou

play fighting with his s/o and accidentally kicking her in her nono square, which leads to having to get stitches: tendou, suna, osamu

s/o who was an archaeologist who brought little rock/dino bones sand bricks: sakusa, atsumu

with a s/o who’s just like him: tendou satori

aoba johsai’s reaction to kyotani’s baby gf

osamu’s girlfriend seeing his black hair for the first time

comforting s/o who easily gets anxiety and panic attacks: akaashi, kuroo, tsukishima

with a mellow s/o who’s presence puts him at ease: iwaizumi, aone, and konoha

s/o who is always listening to music with him: kuroo tetsurou

with a s/o who relapsed into schizophrenia: yamaguchi tadashi

when he gets a lot of confessions (how his s/o reacts): osamu, atsumu, suna

s/o who got a septum piercing: kuroo, oikawa, akaashi

cuddling with his s/o while using visual triggers: tsukki, tanaka, kuroo

with a s/o who often dyes their hair funky colors: iwaizumi, kuroo

helping his s/o who has trouble dealing with their self-harm addiction: kuroo, sugawara, suna

s/o recovering from a restrictive eating disorder: kuroo tetsurou

inarizaki children with kita and his girlfriend singing

with a s/o who gets a lot of confessions from others: sugawara, tendou, akaashi

timeskip! tsukishima coming home after a long day at the museum

reacting to his s/o singing “love talk” by wayv: akaashi, tsukishima, kenma, kageyama

acoustic guitarist s/o sings to him: yamaguchi, kenma, sugawara

which haikyuu characters would get jealous when their s/o simps for other anime boys

~~~ dec. 24th - dec. 26th

s/o who’s a kpop idol: akaashi, kenma, sakusa

tucking s/o in for bed: osamu, kuroo, bokuto

when his s/o curses in their native language: oikawa, bokuto, iwaizumi

haikyuu characters having a kpop idol s/o and how they’ll react to sasaengs

~~~ dec. 27th - dec. 31st

little domestic things the haikyuu boys will do

just mean yet soft suna headcanons <33

when they catch their s/o self-harming in the changing room before/after a game: oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo

playing rock-paper-scissors with him: atsumu, bokuto, kenma

haikyuu boys dating someone with duality (sweet, kind/ confident, flirty)

when he’s being very affectionate and cuddly with his s/o: atsumu, kageyama

s/o who takes off her clothes when she is asleep without realizing it: akaashi keiji

teaching his s/o how to slow dance: suna, kunimi, akaashi

random bf suna headcanons

hq boys’ reacting to coming home to their s/o having an otter (escaped from the zoo)

s/o who’s usually stoic, cold, and shy but is sweet to him: sugawara, akaashi, oikawa

looking after a worn out s/o: kuroo, ushijima, asahi

with a s/o who gets very clingy and affectionate when sleepy: tsukishima kei

with a s/o who is sad from losing one of their close friends: kuroo, akaashi, tsukishima

pov: it’s [9:14pm] and you’re his s/o. what are he doing right now?

haikyuu boys reacting to their s/o bawling their eyes out over a movie

#haikyuu masterlist

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felinedetached · 3 years

Note

u mentioned a possible wilbur analysis 👀? very interested by this

This is gonna be a hell of a lot less sourced than the Dream one, because I am lazy and because my focus on c!Wilbur analysis has always leant more towards his authoritarian tendencies and how he ran his country! But! He, like c!Dream, gives me extremely strong BPD vibes.

Once again: this has no bearing on canon, it's just my thoughts as a person with BPD, and has no intent to vilify c!Wilbur or BPD!

SO! A quick run-through of each symptom and if I think c!Wilbur has it or not, with mini breakdowns of the ones I think he does:

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behaviour covered in Criterion 5)

Absolutely. To a different extent to Dream, however, as Wilbur is fully confident in his ability to manipulate those closest to him. He destroyed L'manburg because if he couldn't have it, nobody can. He made sure Tommy was loyal to him, made sure Tubbo and Jack and Niki were all loyal to him (through L'Manburg, and through pushing the idea that you have to sacrifice for your country, e.g. pushing Tommy to sacrifice his house for L'Manburg).

He doesn't want to be abandoned, so he ensures they won't abandon L'manburg.

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterised by alternating between extremes of idealisation and devaluation

Ooof. This one's a hard one, because like, yeah. His opinion of people shifts at the drop of a hat — usually one that's inspired by something, but that's true for a lot of people with BPD anyway. A good example is how swiftly he turned completely on Eret! He barely spent time to process the betrayal before he was vilifying Eret, turning on them and denouncing them as a member of L'manburg. It was a quick, immediate switch in perception, and that's just— vibes.

I'd say it fits his perceptions of other people too! Turning on Techno, the shift in his perception of Fundy and Quackity, even how he saw Tommy and Dream.

3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

Hell yes. "Are we the villains, Tommy?"

4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g. spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating) (Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behaviour covered in Criterion 5)

Going into war without armour, apparent smoking habit (not entirely sure if this is canon or not, but if it is: yes), the fact that he ran a drug empire and that they used those drugs themselves, repeatedly announcing himself as the traitor despite knowing it would be harmful to him if people knew. Once again, it's hard to make a one to one comparison with Minecraft when a lot of these things don't really exist, but from what we can see: yeah.

5. Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behaviour

Well. It's a bit hard for it to be recurrent when you succeed.

6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g. intense episodic dysphoria, irritability or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

Oh my god, yes. This and (8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g. frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)) combine a lot for Wilbur, in my opinion. He's anxious, irritable, angry and manic in Pogtopia, as his mental health takes that downward spiral. He starts encouraging fights, getting into them more himself and gets increasingly frustrated and mad about Fundy, Manburg as a whole, Schlatt and Quackity.

7. Chronic feelings of emptiness

Considering he actively committed suicide and started thinking of himself as the villain, probably! But we don't know for sure because none of these people talk about their emotions.

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

100%. He doesn't think he can trust Tubbo, struggles to trust anyone, gets increasingly paranoid about spies and Manburg finding out where they are. He plots the explosion of L'Manburg with no care for the lives of everyone else there, and forces Tubbo to be the one to decide whether it happens or not as a test. Large amounts of his paranoia are justified, but it's still there.

So that's 9/9 for Wilbur! I have hit this man with the projection stick.

I have a large amount of thoughts about Niki too, tbh, and I also think Tommy probably has BPD, but I'm really not the person to ask about that because I'm not much of a Tommy scholar. It's just vibes, with him. I have much more reasoning with Niki, Dream and Wilbur.

#wilbur soot #dream smp #bpd #anonymous #answered #the queen's commands #now for tws yall know the drill with this:#suicide #self harm #drug abuse #eating disorders #wilbur soot my beloved. you are an authoritarian bastard and I love you #you have so many qualities i can project onto its horrible in the best way #and i am very very sad that you spiralled and never got to recover </3

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

Text

I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.

So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.

Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.

My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.

And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.

I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.

It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.

Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.

The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.

The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.

I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.

For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.

And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.

I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.

It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.

Maybe one day I will be able to.

I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.

If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!

#cptsd #complex ptsd #ptsd recovery #tw self harm #story of recovery #trauma #abuse recovery #trauma symptoms #chronic pain #chronic exhaustion #freeze response

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 12 - A Little Death

Masterlist; Chapter 11

Summary: You have to help Neil get back onto his feet after the tragic news. The lack of control and overwhelming grief lead to a few revelations...

Warnings: This is quite angsty still despite mentions of comfort; excessive drinking; self-harm (only implied); swearing

Author’s Notes: Okay so the length of this is beyond me and I’m sorry. This takes place just before Neil’s departure to Mumbai, film-wise. I really hope you’ll enjoy and please let me know what you think!

P.S. The referenced song is ‘A Little Death’ by The Neighbourhood

You did not check how long you were sat like that on the floor, cradling Neil and letting him cry and shake as though those were the only things he was capable of. Later you realised it was probably close to two hours as by the time you got up, it was nearly evening. But for those two hours, you just let him take his time. He did not speak, and you only occasionally whispered words of reassurance into his ear. You kept on drawing soothing circles into the skin of his back. After the first half-hour, you found a much-needed package of tissues and placed them in his lap. Despite his silence, you knew that your presence meant everything. And so you stayed, ignoring the rumbling in your stomach and tiredness. For the most part, you also ignored your own tears, fully aware that this was not about you, nor it should be.

Neil’s heart-wrenching sobs stopped after those two hours and were replaced with small gasps as though he was struggling for air. That is when you knew that the breakdown was past its culmination point. Slowly, you shifted so that you could look at him and gently tipped his chin. His eyes were puffy and red. The heart-breaking look he gave you was enough to nearly tip you off the edge. But you had to be strong. So you just took a deep breath and broke the silence:

“Don’t say you’re sorry for this because that’s the least I could have done for you” he nodded hesitantly upon seeing your determined gaze “I’m here for you, and I won’t make you talk about anything but sometimes it helps” you kissed him on the forehead.

When you met his gaze afterwards, you were struck by the admiration you saw there. He smiled at you slightly as though trying to convey something difficult to be expressed otherwise. You smiled back and took his hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. After another beat, you got up and filled a glass of water for him. You knew well enough how something so simple is needed after crying for so long. You watched as he emptied the whole glass, placed it on the side, and took a deep breath. Then he spoke for the first time in two hours.

“I… I know that this isn’t what you’re used to from me” he shrugged helplessly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still someone I care about deeply” for a second you wondered why you felt like you wanted to say more.

But now was definitely not the time. So, instead, you added:

“Tell me what happened? If you’re ready, of course” you took his hand back and smiled when he entwined your fingers on reflex.

“When we arrived, he…” Neil swallowed hard “TP called us to his office and started explaining the next steps in the operation. He mentioned the bloody Mumbai and how I’m needed there tomorrow” he clenched his jaw, and you felt the tension rise.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Then you let your hand linger on the side of his neck. He sighed at your touch before resuming the story:

“Then he asked Ives to leave, and we talked a bit about everything… It was like the old days, you know” his brow furrowed “He mentioned how I’m probably his greatest friend in the whole world… How I helped him make Tenet into what it is now and how that wouldn’t be possible without my contribution” he exhaled shakily “We even talked about you” he glanced up and met your surprised look “Just about how it was seemingly fate that brought us together and how you fit in so well here, just taking everything in your stride” you smiled at the words shyly.

Even though it hurt you to know that he was not allowed the truth about your hiring. But maybe that was for the better, you mused.

“We talked like that for over an hour before he started acting strange… The things he said…” he seemed to gather words “It didn’t make much sense, but now I think I should’ve realised that he was…” he shuddered slightly “That it was supposed to be a goodbye” you saw the tears in his eyes again and shifted so that he could rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“Don’t blame yourself for not predicting what will happen. There’s no point in that” you leaned against the foot of the bed behind to be more comfortable.

“Maybe… But I felt something was wrong, so an hour after I left his quarters, I went back in” you tightened the hold on his hand, feeling the moment approach “The door was unlocked and he… he was just sat there” Neil brought his head up to look at you with teary eyes “I thought that he was fine but then… there was no pulse, and he wasn’t breathing” you felt him become breathless and gently urged him to slow down.

When he stopped hyperventilating, you let him lean on your shoulder again.

“He died alone… and I couldn’t do anything about it” you were not sure if you preferred the dejected tone or the former sobs “I was supposed to be his best friend, his partner”

“I think that he didn’t want to hurt you even more by making you watch it happen” you suggested, trying to make sense of the situation.

After the earlier text and what Neil told you begun to understand that TP intended to do it. To end his life. You just had to find a reason why.

“But I don’t understand why he did it” Neil’s voice broke through your contemplation “There was no reason to… He said himself that the plan is going well” you could hear anger creeping into his voice.

“I know… But maybe there was a reason…” you trailed off.

Neil watched you sharply, and you felt like if you said something wrong, you could risk losing him again. You had to tread softly.

“You once said that he never did things without reasons” you stumbled over the tense and frowned “And that’s the same feeling I got when I talked with him… Maybe he had to do that to avoid clashing with his former self in any way” you glanced at Neil to gauge his expression.

He was staring ahead into space with a serious look in his eyes, considering what you said.

“Is like… they mentioned during training that it would be bad if we ever came in contact with our other selves, inverted and so on” you kept on rambling, hoping it was helping somehow “So maybe he was afraid that his existence now would coincide with his younger self out there”

“There must have been better ways of dealing with that” you could tell that he was angry.

At himself. At TP. At the universe. And there was nothing you could do.

“Maybe that was all that he could think of”

You watched helplessly as he turned away from you, suddenly overcome with the emotions. You urged yourself to calm down. Maybe now was a good moment to mention the text…?

“I… I got a text message from him actually… as I was getting here in the cab” you took out your phone and gingerly offered it to him.

Neil took it without question and read over the recent message. Then you saw his eyes dart to other text conversations. But you did not mind. There was nothing to hide. He handed you back the phone without a further word. Then he got up and wandered over to one of the side cabinets.

Now that was concerning.

“Neil?” you scrambled after him and watched in horror as he hastily threw the cabinet contents onto the floor.

Finally, he found a whisky bottle hidden in the back and took a triumphant swing out of it. That sight made you shake off any paralysis you fell into. You crossed the room and snatched the bottle from him. The dark look he gave you was somewhat terrifying. He took a step closer as you took one back. Then he met your gaze challengingly as though doubting your ability to deny him anything. But this time, you were not going to give in. You shook your head and extended the gap.

“It helps with the pain” Neil shrugged helplessly.

“I know, but I think you’ve had enough for today” you gestured towards the empty bottles on the floor.

Thinking fast, you decided to act. You took out your phone and summoned Ives, asking him to come by Neil’s room in a moment. He responded instantly, evidently waiting on the news. Once that was dealt with, you went on to pick up the reminders of Neil’s state. When he saw you do that, you heard him speak:

“If you’re going to take away all the alcohol, then at least leave me the empty bottles” you turned to see an unfamiliar cynical smile “The glass might come handy” the emptiness in his eyes made the delivery worse.

You could only stare, processing the words. Suddenly everything felt too overwhelming.

“Neil…”

You stared at him pleadingly, hoping that maybe the look of panic in your eyes will help him realise what he said. You did not dare breathe until he somehow denied your worst anxieties about the situation. You watched as his face fell, then he covered it with his hands and breathed out a long exhale.

“Fuck. I’m sorry…” he stared at the floor “I didn’t mean it” he looked up at you remorsefully “I don’t know why I said that…”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever scare me like that again” you gave him a weary smile.

Before you could say anything more, a knock on the door interrupted you. At Neil’s quizzical stare, you answered:

“Ives. I’ve asked him to come” you moved to the door, clutching all the bottles in your arms “Give me a second. And please don’t do anything stupid” you gave him a final warning look before you exited into the corridor.

Ives waited there with a worried expression on his face that seemed fixed at this point.

“Is he alright?” he asked, glancing at the door you closed.

You shuddered, thinking about the situation you just dealt with. But he need not know all that.

“He will be. For now, though…” you placed all the bottles of alcohol in his arms “Take these please and maybe get us a little something to eat from the kitchen… and tea” you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Okay” he nodded “If you need anything else, let me know”

“Thanks” you sighed, feeling the tiredness slowly descent upon your whole body.

But there was no time for that. Not yet.

“I’ll stay with him tonight” for once, Ives did not tease you about it, and you were grateful.

“His plane is at 3 pm tomorrow. Do you think that’s manageable?” he looked sceptical.

“It has to be” you smiled as Ives squeezed your shoulder reassuringly “I better go back to him. Just leave the food outside and knock on the door, please. Think it’s best if he doesn’t see anyone else tonight”

“Of course”

Without further word, you entered the room again and locked the door behind you. Neil was sat on the bed, anxiously picking at the skin around his fingernails. His hair was falling in his eyes, and he was staring at his lap, looking incredibly lost. It hurt you to see him like this. Ignoring the growing ache in your chest, you approached him slowly.

“I asked Ives to get us some food and tea because I think we both could do with that” you attempted a smile when he looked up “But before it arrives, you could shower and get changed… that could help a little”

You stood near enough to reach out and brush your fingers over his cheek tenderly. He seemed to consider your words for a moment before he leaned into your palm.

“Okay, I’ll try” you saw him hesitate before adding, “Thank you for putting up with this”

“Of course, that’s what friends are for” for some reason, the word felt wrong. And he noticed that too as you saw a small frown appear before he smiled at you and left for the bathroom.

When you heard him put the shower on, you started cleaning the room. You put away the pages that landed on the floor and made the bed. While you were smoothing the covers, your brain came up with a rather intrusive thought about how there you were, alone with Neil in his room. Again. And how that really did not fit in with the friendship story you desperately clung to. Because it was rather obvious that you would end up sharing the bed again. That was not something friends did this frequently. You did your best to shut that voice, but you could not deny the facts. So you just sighed and waited patiently for Neil to remerge.

Food arrived before he showed up, so you just set the coffee table. Once you were done, you heard the bathroom door creak. You turned to look at him and were taken aback by the casualness of his get-up. For the first time since you have met, he was not wearing suit trousers and a shirt, and instead had loose joggers and a t-shirt on. Despite the reality of the situation you found yourself in, you could not help but stare. He caught your look with a rather sheepish expression that you did not expect.

Interesting… But there was no time to dwell on it, so you just invited him to the table and encouraged him to have something from the selection Ives got you. Sometimes you would anxiously glance at him to see whether his mood has not changed for worse again. But he seemed fine; quiet and sombre but there with you, physically and mentally. And that was what mattered for the moment. So after you ate, you suggested settling in bed to rest. Neil agreed to that without any objections, giving you hope that maybe he was past his worst point.

After the initial awkwardness of the situation wore off, and you both relaxed onto the pillows, you asked:

“Should we put the tv on? Just have some music on or something…” you searched his eyes, trying not to get too conscious of the moment.

While this was certainly not the first time for you to casually share a bed, this time it somehow felt different. But you blamed that on the rollercoaster of emotions you both went through in the recent days.

“Yeah sure” Neil nodded and sent you a small smile.

This silent version of him was strange to get used to. It felt like he was holding back from you, and you were not sure whether you liked that. But there was nothing you could do apart from giving him unlimited space and time for expression should he need it. So, to provide a distraction, you put on the tv and quickly found a suitable music channel that was not blasting annoying pop songs. Silence fell on you again, as you let the music help you relax. You were not even paying attention to the exact songs played.

‘Make me feel like I am breathing Feel like I am human’

That is until you felt Neil shift, and you glanced in his direction only to meet his intense stare. The blue eyes were fixed on you with a hazy tint on the pupils. Before you could ask him anything, he moved closer. You were struck by the look of intoxication on his face. Somehow you knew that it was not due to alcohol. You felt slightly paralysed by the multitude of feelings that came then. Neil ended his scrutiny of your face to ask:

“Can I kiss you?” his voice was huskier than usual.

‘Touch me, yeah I want you to touch me there’

“Neil...” his name usually came quite handy in those speechless moments.

There were millions of reasons why you should not let him, but the look on his face and what he said next started breaking down the resolve.

“I know” he was looking at you with something close to pleading “I know this won’t fix anything, but if for at least a few seconds I can forget about this mess... then please give me that”

‘She sought death on a queen-sized bed And he had said, "Darling, your looks can kill, So now you're dead.’

He was close now. So close that all you had to do was lean in and kiss him softly. He sighed at the contact, and you brushed away the damp hair from his eyes. Then he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer with his hands on your waist. You were too lost in the moment to stop him when he urged you to lie down on the covers. Feeling your heart pound in your chest, you continued the kiss as he hovered over your body. His hands wandered until you felt him slide them underneath the fabric of your shirt. The warm, sudden touch on your bare skin acted as a warning. You gasped and broke the kiss, but not before he managed to bite on your lower lip, drawing blood. The desperate whine he let out made you open your eyes in a flash. The darkness of his eyes made you realise how close it got to the point of no return. That was enough to help you shake off the daze.

“Please, not like this” you pushed him away gently.

Your cheeks were burning as you came to realise what nearly happened. But once you met Neil’s gaze again, you could tell that he was still not quite aware of the reality. The passionate look in his eyes was replaced with something akin to begging.

“I just want to get lost in you” he murmured, still keeping his hands on the bare skin of your waist.

He ran his fingers along your sides, and you shivered. Inhaling slowly, you tried to calm down. Normally his words would have made you throw caution to the wind. But something like that could be disastrous right now.

“I don’t want it to happen like that” you pushed him off you completely and sat up, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“But you want it?” the hopeful tone made your insides flutter with thousands of anxious butterflies.

Fuck… Of course, he wouldn’t let it go easily.

“Ask me again when we’re both better” you hoped that you sounded surer than you felt.

You touched the split lip and wiped away the blood droplet with your thumb. That moment must have awakened something in Neil, as suddenly you heard him inhale sharply before he blurted:

“God, I’m so sorry” you looked up to see him staring at you in terror “I don’t know what overcame me… It’s not that I didn’t want to…” he was clearly struggling with whatever he wanted to say.

“It’s okay. I won’t hold you accountable for whatever happened… or almost happened” you gave him your most convincing smile despite feeling more confused than ever.

“But I… I want you to know I didn’t do that only because I’ve lost control” that was enough for you.

“Neil, it’s fine” you interrupted him “You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t matter” you forced another smile onto your face, praying he will drop the topic.

You could not even explain why it hurt so much. Maybe because you worried it was just him losing control? And that if there was someone else with him in your place, it would have happened anyway? But it felt selfish to have those thoughts after everything that happened, so you just tried to rake your brain for some other distraction. Somehow, this moment felt right to breach a topic that has been on your mind for the past few hours. Slowly, you turned to face Neil, who was evidently still pondering the situation while staring at the tv screen unseeingly.

“Neil…” he turned to you the instant you said his name “Before I came here, Ives told me about Alex…”

The moment you mentioned the name, you could see a plethora of emotions flash in Neil’s eyes. There was shock, sadness, and worry, among others. He visibly tensed and tried to school his features before responding.

“I- I would’ve told you” he was desperately searching for the right words “There just wasn’t a good moment, and I didn’t know if you…”

“No, no. Stop right there” you interrupted him, worried by the rambling “I didn’t mention that because I want an explanation or because it hurt me in any way” you met his gaze steadily “I only wanted you to know that I’ve been told. And that if you ever wanted to talk about it, I’m here” you tried your best to convey the support and love (?) into the long look you gave him.

“But… is-is this okay? Are you okay with that?” the doubt and genuine worry in his eyes made your heart clench painfully.

You wanted to hurt whoever made him question things like that.

“Of course it’s okay. You loved and lost him, and that’s the only thing I care about” tentatively, you reached out to take his hand again “It’s a vital part of your story, and I want to know you better” you smiled, seeing him relax slightly.

“Thank you… I’ll tell you one day, I promise” he brushed his thumb along your knuckles “But I think he’d like you”

You were not expecting that.

“Yeah?” you blushed slightly, suddenly flustered.

“He used to call me out on my bullshit too… and never fell for my charm too easily” he smiled fondly.

You liked the way pleasant memories seemed to light up his whole face.

“I can see some similarities then” you grinned shyly “To be fair, you need someone to keep you from getting too cocky” experimentally, you reached out to ruffle his hair.

If his blissful smile and the way he leaned into your touch were anything to go by, he did enjoy the gesture.

“I’m not sure I deserve you” he opened his eyes and looked at you with some kind of new emotion.

But before you could find any ways of answering that, he yawned. Once, then twice. The tiredness was finally catching up with him.

“Think you should try to get some sleep” upon his silent question, you added, “I’ll stay in case you need me”

For a second you wanted to offer that you will take the sofa, but somehow you knew that was not what he would have wanted. And neither did you if you were to be honest with yourself. So you just watched as he hesitantly started shifting on the bed, trying to find the most comfortable position. You switched off the forgotten tv and the lights and slowly laid down on the pillow. In the quiet, you could hear his shallow breaths. One look in his direction was enough to help you decide. You moved closer, closing the safety gap, and carefully placed your arm on his waist. After a beat, you curled up around him, with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked, following the tense silence.

“Yeah… It’s just that I really don’t think I deserve any of this” you could hear the apprehension creeping back into his voice.

“You deserve much more” you pressed a small kiss to his neck “But let’s start with this. Good night, Neil”

“Good night…” he hesitated but then just exhaled, letting you hug him closer to your body.

*** The peace lasted only for the first two hours. After that, you were awoken by Neil tossing nervously. Before you could properly come to your senses, he let out a few soft whimpers. Shit. You shifted so that you were hovering over him and took a long look. His brow was furrowed, jaw clenched, and he was incredibly tense. Whatever nightmare he was having, it was escalating quickly. The next thing you knew, tears were falling down his cheeks, and he was mumbling something, sounding distressed. That was enough. You cupped his cheek, as softly as you could, and leaned in close:

“It’s just a dream” you kissed him on the forehead “Wake up love” you were not sure where the endearment came from.

You leaned back to see his eyes open in a blink. His gaze was unfocused, evidently still lost in the nightmarish world. Using the hand that was cupping his face, you brushed the stray hair away from his eyes. His breaths were fast yet shallow. Knowing the experience well, you immediately kicked into action.

“Neil, listen to me” you waited until his eyes locked with yours “It was just a dream. It’s all okay now” you placed your hand on his chest over the heart “You need to calm down”

“I can’t breathe” he choked out and sat up suddenly, nearly knocking you in the head.

“You’re panicking” you shifted so you could be sat in front of him.

The fact that you nearly climbed into his lap in the process had to be ignored for the time being. You took his hand in yours and placed it in the middle of your chest so he could feel the rising and falling with every breath you took. With your other hand, you tilted his chin so that he was forced to meet your gaze. His pupils were darkened by panic and adrenaline.

“Follow my breath” you made him match your breathing for a few cycles.

Once you heard his inhales and exhales elongate and level off, you let go of the hand you kept pressed to your chest. He kept it there for a moment longer, as though making sure you were really in front of him.

“I’m sorry” the heartbroken and tired look he gave you was enough to make your heart ache “You really shouldn’t have to deal with this mess”

“It was my conscious choice, and I would never leave you alone after something like this” you leaned in closer and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth “Now, let’s try going back to sleep, shall we?”

This time he was holding on to you as though you were the only constant thing. With his arms around you and the warmth of his body, you could almost forget about the mess you both had to face in the morning. Before drifting off to sleep, you pondered his words again. More and more, you were sure that he got it the wrong way around. It was you who did not deserve someone like him. And you were afraid he would soon realise as much once the initial crush (or whatever it was) passed. But for now, you allowed yourself peace as you relaxed into his embrace and buried your face in his chest. If by some accident, the universe decided to be on your side, you would not complain.

*** In the morning, you were both awakened by Ives calling to make sure both of you were alive and awake. You had to blame the awkwardness that followed it on that very phone call. You only managed to shake it off when you sat down to the breakfast you brought from the canteen. You passed Neil coffee in silence, cursing your inability to hold a conversation after everything. But this time, he had some solutions. As your fingers brushed, he set down the coffee cup on the table and turned to you:

“I’m sorry about everything that I did and said yesterday” he glanced at your split lip “I wasn’t in control... and I don’t want you to be scared. I’d never do anything like that normally” he shifted nervously.

You knew an apology was coming, especially after seeing the way he looked at you ever since waking up. And while, admittedly, his behaviour worried you, you did not dare to think about how your ‘almost’ made you feel.

“I know, and I won’t judge you on how you acted last night” you put on your best smile, hoping to end the topic as quickly as possible.

But it was not meant to be as he clearly thought hard on what to say next. All you could do was wait and listen.

“I know that I crossed some lines” finally, he found the right words “And while I can’t deny that I was acting on my genuine desires…” he searched your eyes to make sure you understood “I won’t do that again because I respect your wishes to keep this strictly friendly”

Was this your imagination, or did he sound like he did not want to say that? If you were honest with yourself, that was not something you wanted to hear either. But now was most definitely not the time, so you just reached out to squeeze his knee reassuringly.

“Thank you, and don’t worry about it. We’re all good” he covered your hand with his and mirrored your smile.

Maybe all this confusion was worth it? After a short beat, you took your hand away and went back to breakfast. The silence was still there, but at least it was less awkward now. When you noticed him frown at the headache that was undoubtedly bothering him, you passed a painkiller. He smiled gratefully.

“So… when is my plane?” he asked after you both cleared the plates.

You could tell that he was dreading the trip. And it hurt to know that there was no way for you to help him.

“3 o’clock” you glanced at the watch “Which gives us about five hours to get you ready” you took in his sombre expression.

“I really don’t want to go” he met your gaze with emotionless eyes “It’s so fucking cruel to have me assist whoever the fuck that guy is when my best friend just killed himself. And I don’t even know why” the anger and hurt in his voice were somehow worse today.

Maybe it was because you could not blame it on his intoxication anymore.

“I know… And wish I had any answers, but I don’t know more than you do” you could only give him an apologetic half-smile “But I know that you have to be there to help… him”

Calling the younger version TP seemed somehow wrong. And you could only imagine how it must feel for Neil, on the eve of meeting that different version of his partner.

“He won’t even know who I am” there was a broken edge to his voice “How am I supposed to meet him and act as though he’s a stranger?”

“Alright, walk me through what you’ve been told, and I’ll try to help as best as I can”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather go back to sleep?” he eyed you sceptically “You must be tired, and it’s all my fault”

“Neil, stop” you have had enough of the self-depreciation “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m here for you” you took his hand in yours “And I wouldn’t rest anyway without knowing you’re well. So let’s go through the plan and then I’ll help you pack”

He only gaped at you with a dazed expression on his face. You wondered how someone so incredible could ever doubt their importance so much.

*** Surprisingly you managed to get Neil ready in time for the taxi departure. Together you planned the mission, made sure he had all the necessary information and contacts and was as mentally well as he could be after everything. When the time was near, Ives knocked on his door. This time, Neil let him in. You watched as the two men embraced tightly, sharing the trauma and sadness. Ives then took a step back and eyed Neil coolly.

“You did a good job” he flashed you a smile “He looks much better than I expected”

“Would you mind?” Neil looked at you nervously, and you laughed at the brief moment of lightness.

“Must say it wasn’t easy, but I did my best” to prove a point, you wandered over to Neil and smoothed his suit jacket.

After disagreeing over the wardrobe choices you managed to convince him to take a few linen suits and shirts for the warm weather in India. Now you were proud you succeeded. To be fair he looked good in anything, but there was something more intimate in the fact that you chose his outfits. But once again, you were brought to the present moment by Ives clearing his throat:

“The taxi is leaving in half-hour. I’ll leave you two now” he gave you a knowing smile and exited the room before you could roll your eyes at him.

Realising you still had your hand on Neil’s shoulder, you took a step back. He was watching you attentively with a small smile on his face. That probably explained Ives’ allusions…

“I won’t ask if you’re ready but… are you okay?” you met his gaze.

“As much as I can be, I suppose” he shrugged dejectedly “I really wish I could stay with you instead”

You saw his hand twitch at his side and decided to choose for him by taking it into yours, naturally entwining your fingers.

“Unfortunately, this time we can’t decide for ourselves. But remember that you can call me if you need help or just to talk. Don’t worry about the time zones, I’ll always pick up” you tried your best to show how you felt through the expression in your eyes.

But that was a dangerous game as soon enough you got lost in the blue of his eyes. As always.

“Thank you” he breathed out, looking at you with such tenderness that almost made you feel faint “Still don’t think I deserve you though” he grinned shyly.

“Oh you do, and I’ll keep on saying that till you believe it” you raised your joined hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles “While I enjoy this slightly subdued version of you…”

“What?” his affronted face made you laugh.

“You know very well what I meant” you smirked and let go of his hand, only to pull him in for an embrace.

It took him only a second to hug you back, with his arms wound tightly around your waist.

“You said we should hug more often so” you whispered into his ear and enjoyed the laugh it prompted “Hope this is good enough for you” you ran a hand down his back.

Then, upon a sudden thought, you pushed your hands underneath his suit jacket and splayed them on his back, relishing the feel of his skin through the shirt fabric. The only indication that he felt the difference was a sharp gasp he let out as he drew you even closer.

“More than that” he kissed the top of your head.

After at least two minutes more, you took a step back but still kept your hands on his waist.

“Please be safe out there. Don’t do anything stupid. And…” you shut his mouth with a hand upon seeing him protest “And don’t get too drunk before the meeting. I know that it will be hard, but that could only make you more likely to fuck up”

Before you could take your palm away, he placed a peck on your wrist, near the pulse point. The voice in the back of your head kept screaming about how this definitely was not something friends do. But you told it to kindly fuck off. At least for now.

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try” he flashed you a signature smile as though you could ever forget it “After all, I’m not the one to behave” proving the point, he brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip.

You inhaled sharply at the sensation. Looking questioningly into his eyes, you wondered whether he remembered about the earlier promise. But there was no time to find that out as sharp knocks interrupted you. It was time.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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teamfreewill2pointo · 3 years

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Sam’s Emotional Arc 1/3

I hated the finale immediately, but I’ve spent some time with it and talked to friends who loved it. I can see now what it was about, and I’ve come to appreciate the story they were trying to tell, even if I think it didn’t land right.

I’ve been told that my meta on this has helped other people come to terms with the finale, so I thought I’d compile it in one place from across various discord channels and twitter posts. If you are struggling with the finale, I hope it helps you.

Part of this actually started with a shit post. I was making a joke about Sam being psychic since he was scared of clowns when Dean died by one. I realized that may have been deliberate. I dug into the story more and now I’m convinced it was. Then I came across some excellent meta that fit with the themes I was finding and opened up the series even more for me.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it. First, Sam’s journey.

Clowns pop up in s15 before the barn scene. In 15.01, which was written by Dabb, Sam is injured by a clown. Castiel is able to save Sam and heal his injury. The clown keeps coming after Sam, with Sam having fight scenes with the clown, while others attack the other ghosts. The clown is kicking the shit out of Sam again, and Castiel saves him once more. Sam is unable to fight off the clown on his own both times.

They run until they are able to escape outside a magical barrier. Sam turns to the clown and says, “shut up”.

This is literally Sam running from his fears. On top of that, this isn’t just any clown, but the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, from an episode also written by Dabb.

Dean: A serial killer clown. I mean, this is, like, the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to you, you know, ‘cause you love serial killers, but – but you hate clowns.

Sam gets nervous and struggles with the lighter before he’s able to get rid of the clown, for now.

I believe this is a metaphor for hunting in general: it’s both the best of Sam’s life and also the worst. The clowns symbolize his relationship with Dean.

Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie was co-written by Dabb (see the pattern?). Sam’s fear of clowns was known since season 2. In season 7, Dabb explored where this fear came from.

On the surface, Sam’s fear is just because he found them creepy, but the episode explains that they actually come from Sam’s fear of being left behind by Dean.

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This episode comes directly after an episode where Sam worried that Dean would get himself killed

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... It almost got you killed. Now, I don't care how you deal. I really, really don't. But just don't – don't get killed. Dean: I'll do what I can. Sam: Well, what's that supposed to mean? Dean: It means I'll do what I can. All right? You can shut up about it.

Sam is dealing with Hallucifer at this moment, but Hallucifer doesn’t really scare him. Losing Dean does.

Sam has a conversation with an employee about greatest fears.

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Recognize the actress? She came back for s15 in 15.06. I don’t believe this was a coincidence. 15.06 featured Castiel helping a parent find their lost child in a season that features Castiel worried about losing Jack. Through his experience with her, Castiel confronts his fears and doubts and then returns to join in the fight against God. [I’ll touch on Castiel’s journey more in his chapter]

Sam’s greatest fear is losing Dean. There’s a lot in the series about how Sam felt lonely and abandoned for much of his childhood. A whole episode, Just My Imagination, centers around this. Sam hated when Dean went off on hunts without him.

source In The Chitters, Sam tells Dean how his fear of losing his family paralyzed him as child. It’s a story where an older brother dies and the younger brother never recovers from it until he’s able to lay him to rest (sound familiar???)

Sam: You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. Dean: We came back, though, every time.

You might naturally think, “Wait a minute! Sam left Dean multiple times!” Honestly, this was something I had a huge issue with when watching through the show the first time. I didn’t understand Sam and hated him leaving Dean in s8. I was completely on Dean’s side at first. But, on multiple rewatches and talking to others, I’ve realized that when Sam left Dean, he was running from his fear. In this TV Guide interview, Jared perfectly sums up why Sam left in season 1; he couldn’t stand to see his family die. Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon along with a comic that explains why Sam left in detail. While the comic isn’t official canon, it shows Dabb’s thought process. In it, Sam sees his family as running towards a horrible end and can’t handle dealing with that.

Dean: So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? Sam: No. Not normal. Safe.

There are many more points in the series where we learn about Sam’s fear of Dean dying. This would be 3948573945 pages long if I wrote them all out, so I’m going to focus on the key moments that loop back to this ending, but there’s so much more there.

If you are struggling with this and need more, please let me know and I can do a deeper dive into that subject. We first see Sam’s inability to let Dean go in season 1 when Sam refuses to let Dean die in Faith.

Dean: You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? Sam: I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

Sam’s whole arc in s3 is him being unable to handle Dean dying. He wants to save Dean, but Dean won’t let himself be saved. This was what Gabriel was trying to teach him in Mystery Spot.

Trickster: This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.

This is how Ruby gets under Sam’s skin and what gets him to start working with her. Everything Sam did was to save Dean. In s4, Sam’s arc is about him sacrificing himself in order to save Dean. He’s gutted from being unable to save Dean. In 4.12, Sam decides to drink demon blood in order to save Dean

Dean: [says that they will die early] Sam: Maybe we'll be different, Dean. Dean: What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life. Sam: What if we could win?Dean: "Win"?Sam: If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it.

When Sam breaks out of the panic room, he’s suicidal. He’s determined to save Dean with his life as the cost he’s willing to pay. He didn’t think he would survive killing Lilith. He was committing suicide in that moment. The reason why Sam is so willing to sacrifice himself in s5 is because he has low self esteem. He blames himself for everything that goes wrong. In Sam, Interrupted 5.11, also by Dabb, Sam has a breakdown under the weight of his guilt. He hates himself and he feels his rage is out of control. In season 6, we see soulless Sam and, unlike souled Sam, he has no rage. Yes, he’ll kill when necessary, but he’s not angry. It was Sam’s fear driving his rage. He felt out of control of his life and let it lead him down a dark path. In season 7, he sees Dean heading down a dark path and he feels helpless to stop it. He worries about dragging Dean down and tells Dean to let him go. But, at the same time, he’s developing coping techniques. He’s starting to face his fears.

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And then Dean disappears and Sam completely falls apart. Sam didn’t have a healthy relationship with Amelia. They were two broken people clinging to each other. Sam and Dean struggle to reconnect after their time apart. There’s a lot of text addressing the horror of a partner dying and people trying to escape from it.

Mrs Holmes: He could see the end of my days were at hand, and... He had lived centuries all alone, but I don't think he could bear the thought of life without me. That's why he drove off that bridge. You must think I'm a monster.

In Hunteri Heroica written by GUESS WHO!?!? Sam finally acknowledges that he was living in a dream world with Amelia. He was running from his past. We see a flash back with Sam pressing on his scar, which he did to help himself distinguish fantasy from reality.

The episode is about a man refusing to engage in reality and harming those around him. Sam has a big confrontation with him

Sam: Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend... all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. [CASTIEL appears to be taking Sam’s words to heart.] It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

Likewise, when Sam was with Jessica, he wasn’t honest about himself. He was hiding from his family and his past. Running to avoid pain. Sam is avoidant in general. Not just in his relationship with Dean. When he talks with Rowena in 13.12 Various & Sundry Villains about his fears of Lucifer, he admits that he could talk about it with Dean, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind – behind whatever vessel. It… Yeah, still keeps me up at night. Rowena: How do you deal with it? Sam: I guess I don’t deal with it. Not really. I mean, I pushed it down and, um, the world kept almost ending, so I keep pushing it down, and I don’t know. [stammering] I really don’t talk about it, not even with Dean. I mean, I could. You know, he’d listen, but… That’s not something I really know how to share.

In 15.20, Sam’s past is front and center. Literally. I know a lot of people found the Winchester family portrait odd and upsetting, but it symbolizes something I’ll get to in a bit. Instead of trying to avoid his grief, Sam has moments where he lets it wash over him. He goes and sits in the car. He’s no longer avoidant. He’s no longer running away. He’s letting his grief move through him. He’s literally sitting with it.

Soulless Puppy pointed out that the characters emotional arcs is similar to DBT. Please look through their awesome meta here.

Personally, I see them as similar to the therapy I do called ACT. Both are forms of therapy where instead of fighting against them, you accept painful emotions and allow yourself to feel them. If you don’t do that work, then you can’t stop feeling them and your fears/ghosts will always haunt you. In Swan Song, Chuck tells us that “Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.” In 15.20, Sam initially didn’t want to let Dean go. He’s been refusing to do this since season 1. When he’s separated from Dean he lives a fake life or destroys himself/the world trying to get Dean back. There’s a moment in 15.20 where Sam looks at Dean’s guns. He wants to commit suicide, but he makes the choice to live. For the time in Sam’s life, he let Dean go and lived with his pain. He no longer ran from it. After Swan Song, Dean was unable to let Sam go. He wanted him back. After Carry On, Sam is able to do what Dean couldn’t do. He lives a life outside of Dean. What’s more, Sam has reconciled himself with his past and his family. It’s clumsy and I wish it were better shown, but having the family portrait and their parents in heaven isn’t meant to excuse the way Sam and Dean were raised. In order to move past the trauma of his relationship with his parents, Sam fully integrates them into his life. In Lebanon, Sam was able to confront and forgive his father. In doing so, he can also forgive himself. Mary asks for forgiveness too, and he grants it to her. He doesn’t forget what happened, but he’s able to move forward and leave the intergenerational cycle of violence. He’s able to raise his son, Dean, the way his brother should have been raised.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it.

I can see why people see Sam’s life after Dean as unhappy. I hated it so much because I saw it as horrible and sad the first time through. I had to sit with myself and my emotions first. I think it’s because we’ve been told by society that we have to get rid of our grief in order to be happy. The finale was showing us that it’s possible to do the opposite. [Personally I think it would’ve been better had they showed more overtly happy memories, but many of my friends saw this straight away] When I began therapy, one of the first things I learned was that there aren’t “negative” emotions. When working with our kids, we call them Big emotions. In DBT/ACT, all emotions are treated as normal and natural. Grief, anger, sadness, etc, these are all normal parts of the human existence. We don’t need to run from them in order to have happiness. We can live with them. As interstitial said in our chats, “you can't change the past, you can only change your relationship to it. To accept that your past contained both love and heartache, to miss it, but also know you can do better; that's actual recovery, as good as it gets.” As Soulless-Puppy explained to me, Sam lived in duality. Dean was dead, but Sam lived. Sam was happy, but he grieved. Dean was with him in the watch and the car and his son, but Dean also waited for him in heaven. I hated the finale the first time I saw it, then next watched it with my boyfriend who loved it. As we were watching together and discussing it, I realized that Dean’s death scene wasn’t just about him, but about the show itself.

Dean promising Sam that he will be with Sam in Sam’s heart is also the show promising us that they will never leave it. That’s why Alex kept posting “The end has no end.” Just as Sam carried Dean with him in his heart, we will carry the show with us. I hope this helps. It’s a terrible thing to feel upset about an ending and thinking of the show this way, recognizing these patterns, is bringing me peace. I still have issues with how it was written, but now that I see what they were doing, I wish all the more that they had the chance to do it right. Please share your thoughts and experiences. I love hearing different opinions. Next up, Dean. Then Castiel.

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mintvender · 3 years

Text

BTS’s Reaction to Y/N’s Wound/Scar

After raiding the palace

Harem!Au

Warnings: slightest suggestiveness in Jimin’s, slight angst

Masterlist

Kim Taehyung

Since he was a part of the raid, and one of the strategic planners of it, he was confused when he heard of the news. Everything should have been going as the original plan so what had happened that Y/N was put into harm? He hurriedly ran to your side to examine Y/N’s wounds. Turned out, the emperor managed to scratched your forearm during your fight but thankfully it was not life threatening yet still made Taehyung mad. Frustrated at himself for miscalculating the possibility but you managed to coaxed him out of such a depressing headspace by offering to spend time with him later. And with that, the young lad was back to his bubbly self.

When you guys were having your ‘date’, he would try to be as close to you as possible, constantly invading your personal space but that was normal when interacting with him. You guys would end up cuddling up to each other, with him lying on your other arm to avoid the wounded arm as you both stay there for seemingly hours, bathing in each other warmth, not caring if others misjudge your affection towards one another. During those hours, he would constantly promise you that he will never repeat those mistakes in the future. You can subtly sense his slight shivers as his voice began to crack as he still could not believe what could have happen if you were not as agile; his lifesaver, benefactor, and the love of his life might not be here if they were t— Before he could believe that, Y/N stopped him with their calm hums and gentle smile, comforting him by telling him that they believe him.

“ Y/N, I am so sorry. This will never happen in the future, I will make sure of it.”

Kim Namjoon

During the entire raid, Namjoon stayed in his residence waiting for his cue to appear as he was also a part of the plan. Unfortunately, before he could even see the cue, a soldier ran into his office startling him. Turn out, multiple members were injured and need his help. Sighing, he quickly stand up and rushed to get the materials needed. He then ushered the soldier outside to bring more people to help him carry his stuff. As soon as the soldier return, they immediately headed off to the fields.

When he got there, he almost rolls his eyes with the amount of the wounded. What made him did not do so, was when he spotted a reflection of a familiar blade. He looked over to see Y/N sitting on the floor, wrapping their injured arm with bandages. Namjoon wanted to rush over there to help them but he knew that they would refuse his help, claiming that there were many others that were at a more critical state. With that in mind, he decided to get to work, trying to increase his pace to go to you faster. He along with many medical members of the organization did their absolute best, and within an evening, they were done with all the patients— except for you that is.

Namjoon was the first person to volunteer treating you and was happily on his way to do so since the rest of the medical helpers were too exhausted to protest. He arrived at your new room inside the palace that was clearly cleaned with how different it looked compared to when the Min emperor had occupied it. This time, Y/N accepted his help and he quickly got to work, applying various herbs onto the wound. As he continue to do so, they made little conversation to help pass the time and by the time Namjoon finished, they were both content with the amount of time they had spend together.

“ Y/N, this is Namjoon. I am here to apply medicine on your wounds.”

Jung Hoseok

As he did not know about the raiding plan that his father had revealed that he was a part of, he did not know who you were. The first time he saw you was after the raid, with you sitting on the throne, with a wounded arm? His father offered one of his best physician but was denied by you, claiming that you were fine. Meanwhile, here he was, standing behind his father not knowing what to do. When you had asked his father about him, he happily introduced you both, subtly hinting that Hoseok was gifted to you. Knowing that he was getting abandoned and into a tyrant’s hand, we wanted to protest but decided not to, knowing that it is useless. Much to his surprise, you requested to have a private meeting and of course his father happily accepted on his behalf.

The morning after such an eventful day, Hoseok realized that he was standing in front of your resting chamber, waiting for permission to enter. Unlike his normal happy self, he could barely stand on his legs without them shivering like crazy. When the time came to enter your chamber, he expected it to be filled with expensive decoration but was met with one, in which was simpler than his. Y/N was currently sitting against a large table next to their bed, working on some paperwork. When they saw him, they unexpectedly smile, shocking him in the process. You gestured him to come closer to you until you both were sat opposite of each other. As he come closer to you, he noticed that you kept holding your injured arm— as if you were protective of it. Amidst the moment, he asked if he could help you apply medicine. You were suprised but didn’t denied. That was the beginning of your great relationship. And by the time he left your chamber, the thought of being married to you did not seem so heartbreaking.

“ M-m... may I assist you in applying your medicine?”

Min Yoongi

The moment he saw you ended his father’s disgusting life, he was devoted to you, determined to pay you back. Unfortunately, many considered him to be threatening the safety of the mission so he was not able to work and as a result, forced to be in a courtyard for the remaining of his years; well that was what he thought, at least. This, however change, when you both met each other again the evening after the successful raid. Turned out, Y/N went to offer him an opportunity to secure his safety and lifestyle. Before Y/N could even reveal what they were talking about, Yoongi nods his head immediately; he even begged you to take him under your wing. Y/N was bewildered by how fast Yoongi had accepted and offer him to go somewhere else more private to talk. Yoongi immediately opened up and told you that he wanted to repay you for getting him out of his father’s grasp but didn’t know how to do so. The poor boy was getting so distressed that his eyes couldn’t help themselves to turn into a waterfall. Y/N tried to comfort him but they realized that no amount of comfort would be better than to let it all out— the dam that the poor prince had build up for himself had collapsed by the tough water tides. So Y/N did th enter best thing and hug him/

It took some time for Yoongi to calm down in Y/N’s arm but when he was finally able to, he noticed that Y/N’s left arm was profusely bleeding. During his breakdown, he had desperately hold onto that arm and unfortunately worsen its condition. Y/N, however, managed to assure him before he get another breakdown. The poor prince didn’t know how to treat a wound so he resulted in profusely apologize to them. Y/N quickly shook their head, assuring him, but Yoongi was not convince. Unexpectedly, he reached for their arm and slowly blow on it to help get rid of some of the pain. He kept doing that, while kneeling on the ground. He only stoped when his legs were beginning to ache but was still somewhat unsatisfied and made Y/N to update him on their recovering process. That was the only incident that Y/N had seen him this vulnerable in public and is glad that he feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable around them.

“ Y-y-you are bleeding. It was my fault that you got worse. Let me help you ease the pain... you’re my savior after all.”

Jeon Jungkook

It was a few weeks after you guys successfully took over the castle and everything was seemingly falling into their space. Jungkook was happy by your side away from the rest of the soldiers who were constantly either pitying him or mock him because of his lineage. At least with you, no one would dare to speak without thinking first and he was overjoyed to finally be able to relax. To him, you were a very strange person; how can you be so wise yet kind to a nobody like him? There were many times that you would burden yourself to teach him about strategic planning, yourself. Why would the ruler teach their own bodyguard? As much as he find this fact strange, he noticed that every time you raised your left arm to high, your posture would be a little too stiff. After a few sessions and a lot of planning, he finally decided to ask you about your arm. Y/N answered while looking at him, quietly scanning his expression to see his horrified face? Seeing that he had no idea, you began to explain the details and by the end, he looked to much like a bunny that you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was shock by the information that was just given to him. Of course getting injured during a battle was normal but how did he not know this, he was their bodyguard and did not know that his master was injured? He quickly told himself that he was yet their bodyguard at that time but that quickly was forgotten as he he got mad at himself for not being observant enough. Jungkook then told them that there was no need for them to continue teaching him when they were in this stage. You then quickly assured him that you were fine but decided that it was not worth the effort when you saw his determined expression. With that said, Jungkook bowed to you and quickly exited the room, going to see Namjoon for more medicine.

“ Your highness, there is no need for you to overexert yourself for me. Please take more time to rest and get back to perfect condition as soon as possible.”

Kim Seokjin

Since he did was not present in the first few months of the newly renovated nation, he definitely did not expect for you to have a scar on your forearm. With your kingdom’s regular clothing, both your arms were on displayed for the world to see but Seokjin was secretly possessive of that. Anyways, you guys were bonding each other at a rather fast pace so it did not suprised anyone when you invited him over to your courtyard; Seokjin was ecstatic and began to brag about it to the servants that he had brought with him. When the time came to meet you, he put on one of his best outfit and headed out the door and practically prancing towards your courtyard. Unfortunately before he got to examine you, all he saw was an ugly scar on your forearm; he would have fainted if it wasn’t for his strong will of staying strong. He then summoned his servants to run back and get the best mediocre from his luggage while yelling at you for being so careless.

When the servant was about to apply the medicine, he interrupted, insisting that he could do it, himself resulting in a big mess on your already chaotic-looking arm. Begrudgingly he handed the bottle to the servant to let them take care of you when you jokingly comment about his obevious overusage of medicine. Unexpectedly, his face was burning up from embarrassment but he feigned ignorance to that even after you teased him. Not wanting to be a victim of your teasing, he decided to yelled at you for your carelessness and asked who had harm you. After he found out that it was the former king, he frustratedly huff as he could no longer do anything to the dead man but when poor Taehyung got mentioned, he decided that it was his mission to make sure Taehyung would never repeat the same mistake again. Poor Taehyung, after feeling so guilty, he is now getting yelled at by another country’s merchant who is unfortunately older than him; at least, he could go to you for comfort.

“ YAH! What were you thinking fighting that wretched bastard alone. Were you out of your mind??? Answer me, Y/N!”

Park Jimin

It was once of those nights where Jimin was constantly teasing you with his requests flirts. This time, however, he somehow managed to slip into your chamber and was laying on your oh-so comfortable bed when you entered the room. You were planning to continue brainstorming some plans but it seems that this particular warm night was not in your favour. There he was, lying suggestively on your bed with a knowing look. Unfortunately, you were not in the mood and decided to dismiss him before letting yourself plopped on the sit and tried to work. Jimin, however, did not listen to your command and was heading towards you. He sneakily sat in fron tof you and looked at you prettily. That was when you admitted that, whoever had trained him did a great job in making him manipulated. With that in mind, you absentminded said that out loud causing the boy’s expression to immediately drop, his posture went stiff, and his eyes no longer held the flirtiness from before. Thinking that he would leave after such comment, you turned yoru attention back to yoru pile of papers but was once again interrupted by a painful force on your cheek that forced your head to follow the force’s direction. You instinctly placed your hand on your cheek at looked at Jimin, suddenly you realized what had happen. He had just slapped you.

The atmosphere in the room was getting tenser as the moment continue to prolong; with Jim angrily glaring at you and yourself not being able to hide your surprised expression. He then yelled at you for saying such disrespectful words to his teacher but you quickly yelled back, provoking him even more. He continued to yell at you while you follow right after; you did not know why he was so angry, it was clear that his mentor’s teachings were wrong. Before you could try to explain their actions to him, Jimin suddenly froze in his spot, his eyes stared into yours, surprised. One moment you can see him stare at you, unmoving, the next you can see him on the floor to not hit him. Confused, you crouched down and hugged him, apologing for your precious rash actions. You, however, were not going to let his previous pass; who had hit him? When he was able to calm down a bit, you decided to ask him.

At first, he looked very reluctant but ultimately decided that it would be best. He then explained everything; from how much hate he got from his family for being a male, to getting send to a boarding school to help train him to be the perfect husband, and convince him that beating him was a way to help discipline him. By the end of Jimin’s heartbreaking story, you were fuming with rage but decided that it was not the best time. During the process, you noticed that he continued to fidget in his spot and constantly scratch his expose skin which were littered with scars; he usually were long sleeves but decided that today was an exception. You worried that he would end up hating his body and to confirm that hypothesis, you asked him and the answer was what you had expected. You then decided to show him the scar that you had accumulated during the fight with the emperor. slowly explained to him that this was a part of you, and made who you are today; that even if it was not pretty, it made you. You would go back and forth between those sentences to make sure that he understand your purpose. But before he can say anything, you also offer him a chance to erase faint scars or help fade ones that he hated. In the moment, Jimin smiled at your caring actions and replied that he will think about it. Satisfied with the answer, you then let him cuddle up to you until the early dawn had cracked the midnight sky. Now you are proud to say that Jimin is slowly getting more confidant in his body.

“ You also have them? Why do you keep showing them off? It’s a part of you? What does that mean? Do you think that I can be like you?”

#harem au #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts rm #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts Jungkook #bts angst #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts harem au #MintVender #Ot7

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri’s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

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