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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year

Note

Is it ok to ask for hurt-comfort with shu based on this tweet?

https://twitter.com/galacticidiots/status/1617931636687122434?t=_32nzHkqmlCRZZfbknSZBg&s=19

You used to look up to him but suddenly he grew colder and you didn't know why. So you chose to be a brat and make him your rival, only to find out you broke his heart due some misunderstanding

Thank you so much (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

trading a heart

woaaaa. WOAAAAAA, anon. that’s such a good prompt i’m gonna lose my mind. woaaaaaa. i could snap wood between my teeth that’s such a good prompt. WOA. it was so good that i wrote over… 11k words… if you’re not going to read it all in one sitting remember to like/rb so you don't lose it

tags: friends to enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, kinda slow burn? i guess it counts as slow burn for a tumblr post

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You are a witch in a small town. The paranormal comes naturally to you in divinations, and your tarot readings are well-received among the superstitious. One way or the other, your readings herald the inevitable, and you’ve more than earned your reputation as one of the best diviners in the area.

Spellcraft, however, was a learned skill, though one you’ve honed for a long time. Your best friend in both life and magic taught you his techniques in return for some of your future sight. You were no slouch, and you had a repertoire of other practitioners’ wisdom in your book of shadows, but at the end of the day, there’s a reason why your clients come to you for tarot rather than talismans.

Still, it doesn’t mean you aren’t willing to flex your muscles and try something new! You regularly scrounge online stores for spell components on discount. Usually you expect a bushel of nightlock here and a dubious animal remain there, but today was the Powerball of witchy bargain bins. One of the most reliable online stores you’ve ordered from just sent an email to their newsletter advertising a tinted glass jar with a preserved object and liquid inside.

USED, PURIFIED - Genuine Organic Sorcerer Broken Heart - Fresh Vintage Natural Human Heartbreak Essence, 100% Ethically Sourced from Licensed Sorcerer for Cleansing, Blessing, Cursing, Hexes, Spellcraft Witchcraft Sorcery Wizardry, 1-CT Solid Preserve 8.4 oz Sustainable LIMITED EDITION LIMITED STOCK, the caption said.

So like, HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

You glanced at the $19.99 USD price tag and didn’t even hesitate to click ‘Buy Now’. Thank God your browser saved your information. If you lost the race for such a valuable material at such a low price, you would never forgive yourself. You wait in anticipation as the website processes your purchase.

Of course, the heart was a necessary organ for the body itself to function, and to rip it out of a human would be just plain organ trafficking. Magic practitioners, however, have discovered spells and rituals to force the soft essence of the heart- the soul of a person and where their emotion takes root- out from the body while keeping the physiological heart in tact, often to be used as a powerful amplifier to spellcraft. A human heart is hard to come by, but considered one of the highest quality, most luxury components a practitioner could use, especially if the emotions captured from the heart essence matches the intended final result of the spell. The more intense the emotion, the more impressive the effects of the product.

Not only that, but the hearts of magical humans were even more potent than an average person. Their metaphysical studies grant them more awareness of their heart essence in order to connect themselves with the universe and its forces at large, and allowed them to understand their emotions with awareness. More awareness means the emotion is stronger without some of that pesky doubt, and stronger emotions mean powerful ingredients. Magic literally courses through the essence of the sorcerer’s heart, meaning it’s easier to use than the typical dose. If you were a collector you’d be even more delighted. After all, no magic practitioner in their right mind would sell their heart, so their power is only exceeded by their rarity.

You’re taken to the receipt page, and you silently cheered at your computer. You’re about to have a blast experimenting on all sorts of rituals with this bad boy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The next day is a relatively quiet one at your sanctuary. Open from late morning to evening, the sanctuary sells oddities, spiritual goods, and spellcasting materials, but anyone who’s seen your little establishment knows the real draw is the owner and their fortune-telling, always too eerily accurate to dismiss as just coincidence.

You can easily sum up your clients of the day in just a few breaths. You had your usual handful of newcomers: most of them asked about their love life’s latest emergency, but a small percent wanted readings on wealth, and just one person asked for a reading on the health of their mind, body and spirit. Some of your frequent stay-at-home mothers visitors came in for fortunes, and as always you loved listening to them titter and gossip about the latest PTA drama. To cap it off, you were beginning to get close to a new regular, a young university student trying to navigate the workload as a straight-A student in high school as well as courting with a girl in one of his classes.

All in all, a good day of work. A few minutes before closing, you figure there won’t be any other customers for the rest of the day. You make use of your time cleaning the tables and reorganizing a display case of crystals- early that afternoon a horde of preteen emos entered your store noisily, ogled over the pretty rocks, and left it a mess, and you’re hoping none of them stole anything- when the wind chimes by the door clattered against one another, signaling a last-minute visitor. You speak before you turn to look at the person. “Hello. Welcome to-“

You glance at a pair of blocky sunglasses, then your eyes meet bright amethyst. The sorcerer in the threshold takes the sunglasses in his hand, and they disappear in midair with a snap of his wrist.

You aren’t used to seeing him in street clothes rather than his usual ritual garb. He wears his hoodie over dark hair accented by pink, purple and golden blond, and keeps his hands in his pockets. His eyes don’t waver. He’s focused.

You feel a chill crawl up your spine as you utter his name. “Yamino.”

“That’s me,” he says. There’s no joking tone to it. “I came here to speak to you.”

“And I said, my sanctuary is closed. I’ve got things to do.”

“Like watching Wednesday over a pint of ice cream?” Shu Yamino still has a sense of humor, but time has worn the warmth in his words away. Without it, his wit feels scathing to you. So what if Netflix and snacks were calling your name? That didn’t give him the right to call you out like that, whether he intended to or not. After all, you had too much of a history with him to consider intention anymore.

You evade discussing your post-work plans. “Like closing my sanctuary and going on with my day. Besides, I’m set to close in a minute. Better talk fast before I lock you out.”

“I came here for a reading-”

“Then you should’ve come here earlier-”

“-As a friend.”

The ice in your veins burns into hot anger. “We are not friends,” you spit. “You and I mean nothing to each other.”

“Then for old times’ sake, when we were.” He slaps a wad of cash on the counter, and as petty as you are, you’re just a little greedier. You count the bills. It’s way more than your rates for a single reading. Your eyes divert from the cash back to Shu’s face, trying to figure out his angle.

“Reader, I know our bond is…” Shu pauses, trying to think of an appropriate word. “...Strained, but you’re a gifted witch. I trust you and your abilities.”

You cross your arms. “Cool story, bro. Got any other cliches you want to tell me?”

“Think of it as a favor. I’ll be in your debt.”

“I’d rather eat my own foot than talk to you again.”

“Then I’ll get out of your sight after this reading. Keep the cash and call on me if you need anything in return, but until you do I won’t seek you out again. You have my word as a sorcerer.”

Your face is set into a grim frown. Shu’s presence alone was enough to irritate you, and his audacity to consult you was revolting.

However, the forty dollars extra on top of your usual fee alone is enough to persuade the cheapskate in your heart. The favor would be excellent if you were ever in a pinch, too- after all, as much as you disliked him, Shu was one of the most powerful magic casters in the area, and an esteemed sorcerer in his own right. You could ask him to perform feats average practitioners could only dream of.

Also, he’d stop bugging you. Thank God.

“I’ll do it if I keep the change,” you say.

Shu’s lips break into a smile. All these years and his smile still hadn’t changed at all, a pointed V-shape that reminded you of a cat. “Deal.”

He shakes your hand. That smile never changed, but the joy behind it did. When you used to call Shu your best friend, it was like a warm sunbeam, but the years whittled down the light, and all that was left was an unreadable, cold shade.

You place his money into the cash register, flip the door sign to read CLOSED, and enter the back of the sanctuary. Shu trails behind you without a word.

As much as you hated to say it, he had a point about ‘old times.’ Growing up, you two were inseparable. He came from a family of sorcerers and your lineage had the gift of foresight. Your magical origins branded you the outcast among your peers whether they knew of your abilities or not, and Shu was the only one that could relate to you for a long time. He was the one that taught you about conjuring and curses, and you helped him hone his own intuition. Intuition is the gateway to the magic of foresight, after all.

Even once you started networking with other magic practitioners, you’ve never met anyone quite like Shu. He was insightful and smart, with a good nature that can take a joke and keep a conversation going. He cared about others, but knows how to stand up for himself, and even though his specialty in curses can get macabre, you’ve never seen him lose sight of what he wants.

If you had to look back on your friendship, that was what attracted you to him for so long: even in his weakest moments, he stayed true to himself.

But that was then, and this is now. You don’t know what happened to him, but two years ago it was like a switch flipped somewhere in Shu’s head. The kind sorcerer you knew and (you were ashamed to say this now, but it was true then) loved began to act like nothing could touch his heart anymore. He was emotionless and dry whenever you talked to him, and talked to him, you did; you gave him every opportunity to let you know how you could help him, if something happened, if you did something wrong.

He never did. You snapped at him one day for insisting everything was fine while acting so callous. To be fair, you aren’t proud of how immature you acted. You should’ve just let your best friend drift away, as much as it pained you, but instead, the rift forming between your friendship turned into a chasm the day you fought.

Ever since, interacting with Shu Yamino was like planning moves in a cold war. Detaching yourself from your best friend since childhood was hard enough, but the feelings you held for him made it even harsher. The few times you spoke with him afterwards, you resorted to anger when he showed apathy, and the resentment grew even more.

After the initial arguments things just went silent. You focused on your career, opened a sanctuary all your own, and tried to forget about the hole Shu left behind. It worked, but only up until a few weeks ago. He’d been trying to get in contact with you for a few weeks now, and though you would’ve been relieved to hear it years ago, you were done with pretending like that friendship was salvageable, and tried to avoid him as best as you could.

You cast a curtain aside, revealing your private consultation room. The walls are covered in tapestries and drapes, and the corners are lined with short tables full of candles. One side of the wall is covered by a giant shelf with rows of divination tools, and sundried herb cuttings hang by the window before you shut the curtain and cast the room into dimness. In the center of the room was a table. Shu sits at the table on the side closest to the door, and you sit opposite from him, a deck of tarot cards in your hands.

You internally pray to any spirits nearby to grant you the strength to pretend like Shu was just another client and resist the urge to punch him in the face. Either they listened or you perfected your customer service voice, because your voice only sounds a little fake-happy. “So what shall I be looking into today?”

If Shu was feeling any negativity he was doing way better at hiding it than you. He wastes no time in asking his question. “Am I doing the right thing by pursuing love?”

A bitter thought dredges up to the front of your head. Of course he’d ask about love. Anyone would do anything for love, including talk to their loathsome old friend.

But you push out the thought for the sake of professionalism. “Let me clear the room.”

You close your eyes and your mind goes blank. You place trust in your sight and channel upon the abilities of your bloodline.

Outside your mind’s eye, candles alight the color of your magic, illuminating the contours of the room and the faces of the practitioners inside. You make a sign with your hands and utter an old blessing to cleanse negativity and encourage your intuition. As you do so, an otherworldly feeling descends upon the room. You did your best work when this blessing did its job, and you welcome the familiarity. You’re in the zone now.

You open your eyes. A veil of awareness casts over your vision as you shuffle your tarot cards. “Allow me to see with clarity and speak with conviction. Soul of the world, tell me: Is Shu Yamino doing the right thing by pursuing love?”

The cards spread under your hand face-down in a steady line. You know what to expect. Choosing the cards appeals to your instincts, but only after observing the energy the deck offers the client. Before long you pick out three cards and place them in a horizontal line across from Shu, then wave your hand to the remaining deck. The unchosen cards levitate and place themselves in a neat stack on your command.

You flip the first card. An armored knight atop a white horse beckons. “Death.”

The next was an angel, a graceful figure that pours water between two goblets. “Temperance.”

Finally, you reveal the last card. A judge in red sits atop her throne, a double-edged sword in her hand. “Justice.”

You breathe in the story the cards tell you, and begin your analysis. “Death heralds the end of a journey and the birth of the new. It’s no bad omen. Either you’ve changed as a person-” and you try to hide the bite of your tone- “-or you’re soon to enter a major change. I’m inclined to believe the former, since it’s the first card in your spread. That position denotes context and the matter at hand. Know who you are, and where you’re trying to go. It’ll be your driving force to keep moving as you navigate your love life.”

You clear your throat. “Are you single?”

Shu nods.

“And you love someone?”

“Certainly,” he says. That’s the most assertive you’ve heard him all day.

“Then trust them,” you say. “Your second card is in the center of the spread, and indicative of your actions. Temperance is moderation. She is calm and rational, and declares patience as a mark of diligence. She invites you to take the middle path, and avoid any rash decisions. After all, she knows that good things come to those that wait, and those that make the choice to wait are biding their time rather than being held back by inaction.

“In relation to love, her advice means that you need to take a step back and examine your past actions, as well as the ones you’re about to take in your love life. Love is a two-way street, after all. This is not the time to make big moves; instead, let the object of your affections come to you. They have their own choices to make, too. What will be, will be. Temperance is patience. Remember that.

“Should you continue down this path then Justice will greet you at your destination. Soon comes the reckoning where you can bear the fruits of your labor. I hope you have good karma saved up, because this is where it can reward you or ruin you. Whatever choices you inflicted upon others will return to you, and you had best be accountable for it.”

You cast your eyes upon Temperance next to Justice. “Justice also calls for a decisive choice in a moment of uncertainty. In this case, I’d imagine heeding Temperance’s advice is what will grant you a merciful resolution when Justice delivers. After all, in love readings, Justice can represent a need for you to trust your partner. I’d imagine that’s only strengthened by how Temperance encourages you to trust the person you care for. Honesty is key here. So is that trust. When you accept that the object of your affections has their own life to live, and give them the room to live it, they’ll realize their own feelings about you. Be ready to accept them whether or not they reciprocate. Wherever your bond goes after it, it’s going to be built upon a foundation of understanding, faith, and truth between you.”

You exhale, and you and Shu sit in the silence of the room.

Shu’s face is as unreadable as ever. He looks down at his spread, his lashes covering his amethyst eyes. He silently moves his lips as he thinks, totally lost in thought, but you can’t pinpoint anything about how he’s taking the reading.

“So is Death my past?”

“In a sense. The position also represents your current self. Something must ‘die’ in order to move on from one phase of your life to the next- namely, the phase that your reading foresees. That can include a death imminent or one that you’ve already accepted and moved past. That’s up for you to determine.”

“How do I know what needs to die?”

“I can’t tell you. You have to reflect and figure out what you need to let go of yourself.”

His mouth lowers into a frown. “That sounds inconvenient.”

“Uh, I read fortunes, not minds. It’s not like I know what’s going on in your head all the time.” Dealing with you would be much easier if I could, you add on in your thoughts.

Shu mumbles to himself. “I wish you did.”

“You know what? Me too,” you retort. Shu’s been pushing too many of your buttons, and you can’t even hide your irritation anymore. “Are we really about to get into this again?”

He meets your glare. You can’t even tell if he’s angry, but those eyes are so bright and pointed, it makes you feel like you have a sniper laser pointed in the center of your face. “Reader. Things happen. I thought we were over it.”

“Clearly not! Even after all this time you’ve been so unresponsive whenever I talk to you.” Your face tenses into a grimace as you speak. The candles around the room flare tall and flick in your colors. “Look, if we’re still talking about how I reacted? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked so much about it. But I was concerned, and you have no right to just look at me like I’m subhuman! I just did a reading for you that by all means I could’ve refused and you’re going to complain? I thought I taught you better than that.”

At that, Shu sits up a little straighter. That’s the most surprise you’ve seen him express since your first argument. You’re high on getting a rise out of him, now. You want to see him squirm. Or do anything other than that stupid unreadable front. Your voice grows in volume as you rant at him. “You know what? I should’ve refused. I can’t believe you. You have the nerve to come into my workplace and make me stay back late because we used to be friends and- and I don’t even know you anymore. We’re not friends. And I guess what we used to have doesn’t mean anything to you now, because if you do then you wouldn’t be bitching about my readings the way you just did.”

He speaks up louder, but it’s barely a whisper compared to your unleashed anger. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it? Does it matter? Is ‘what you mean’ going to fix everything? You’re ridiculous if you think so. After all we’ve been through, you stepping foot into my space was disrespect enough, and now you have the utter indecency to pretend like my readings are meant to stump you-”

“I never said that-”

“‘-I wish you did,’” you mock, and he bristles. “When you of all people should know that it requires thought! It’s self-reflection, not a quick fix! You dare disrespect me like that! In my sanctuary!”

Shu stands up. “I think I need to go.”

“Congratulations, you finally used your intuition correctly! I’m sooo proud,” you sarcastically say. You snap your fingers. The remaining tarot cards flick to the deck in time as all the candles in the room blow out, except for one. The consultation room goes pitch black, but one thick pillar candle by your seat illuminates your face through a ball of flame much too powerful for its wick. “Get out. Never talk to me again, you piece of human trash.”

You feel a brisk tailwind behind you as Shu awkwardly leaves. You try to revel in how uncomfortable he must be, but the discomfort spreads to you and gnarls at you in your chest.

Everything about Shu makes you feel like rot, but the gnarl is new. You stay in your chair, lit only by the candle beside you, and slump. You stare straight ahead in the dark as the gnarl runs through your body and the white-hot rage subsides into resentment.

You think back on how his apathy broke during your spat. To see him break his apathy was what you’ve been waiting for over all these years, and inciting it was like feeding the hungry monster that thrived on hate. In that moment, you were alive. What frozen feelings you had turned to lava, but now, there isn’t even a temperature attached to the monster gnarl.

You let out a grumble that doesn’t even begin to express the gnarl.

“Is this hate?” You wonder out loud. At this point, you know there are three inevitabilities in the known universe: death, taxes, and Shu Yamino being the human incarnation of dirt. Like a fact, the emotion behind the argument is gone, and for a moment you think that this is what it’s like to be the emotionless Shu, empty and hollow save for the gnarl of negativity deep inside, biting through your core, dyeing your mind gruesome colors and spreading down the system like watercolor.

You can’t deny it at this point. Over the last two years you gave him all the time in the world to rethink himself, from the arguments to the silence to even the reading he so rudely walked away from. It’s his own choice now to brush you off and act so high and mighty and cold.

It seeps into your skin like water on a stone statue. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Raw and unfiltered, you realize it in a steady rhythm. Never in your life have you felt this way. You hate Shu Yamino.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You return to your home seething. You’re completely done with everything the last two years threw at you, and the only thing on your mind is the newly discovered hatred.

You brood over the evening, and by the time it’s your day off, you’re just as grumpy as you were the day you read Shu’s cards. Netflix be damned, nothing can turn your brain off from the boil and churn of the gnarl. What you wouldn’t give for him to learn a lesson or two.

No. You scratch the thought out. Shu had more than enough time to get his act together. If anything, it’s about time he understands exactly how much pain he’s put you through.

You think about possible revenge plots when your mind drifts over to the rare, potent ingredient you bought on a deal one night. You still haven’t used your sorcerer’s heart.

The monster gnarl takes over.

You enter your office, a wide room with a clear floor and spell components all along the shelves. A cauldron sits over an unlit hearth, and blackout curtains give you just enough light as needed for certain spells. The decorations in this room are plain, but nothing is out of place. You put a lot of effort into making a workplace you can concentrate in.

A bookcase stands next to the door, and you run your finger along the spines of spellbooks. It stops at a grimoire labeled Unconventional Curses for the Discerning Practitioner. You smile. This was a book Shu gave you years ago before your friendship soured. It would be awfully ironic if his undoing was a curse just like his specialty, invoked by his enemy from a book he gifted to them when they were friends.

You slide the book out and place it in the center of the room’s floor, where you intend to sit. But first, you dig through a storage container of your finest components. You don’t need to rifle through it too hard before you find it: a jar made of dark glass to hide the preserved object inside from the light.

With utmost care, you pick the sorcerer’s heart out from the container, and place it in front of you as you sit down beside the grimoire. You kept the label when the sorcerer’s heart was delivered for easy identification. The retailer sold it as a ‘broken heart,’ which referred to immense negative emotion when the essence of the soul was removed. However, that was all the information they provided. It would probably be a good idea to use your foresight on it. The last thing you want is to waste some of the essence on an incompatible curse because its emotions contrasted with the curse’s foundations.

You chant your favorite blessing and feel the veil cast over you, just as you did during your last tarot reading. “Allow me to see with clarity and speak with conviction.”

That familiarly otherworldly feeling comes again, and already you can feel the basics of the sorcerer’s heart. The negativity invested in it, for example, lived up to the name. Misery dominates the heart.

You crack open the jar, and lift the lid by the tiniest amount, enough to get hit with the chemical smell. It reminds you of a hospital. “Show me what this heart has been through.”

The scent carries you through the misery, and breaks it into smaller chunks. Hope must have existed here once, because if not, then how do you explain the overwhelming regret?

You identify some core values the heart holds. Whoever sold their heart must have treasured their loved ones a lot. You close your eyes and see visions of the original seller from their point of view. You watch them continually give themselves away for the sake of others.

Sure enough, the seller was a sorcerer. You recognize the magic they cast as curses to those that scorned the ones they care about, and conjurations to those who need them. Additionally, they were likely a professional practitioner as opposed to a hobbyist, considering how often they cast.

As you meditate, you file through the memories. The most recent before the heart was removed were all punctuated by inactivity. Perhaps a moment of depression or loneliness before the heart was sold? The memories get foggier the further back you go, but they all summarize into isolation. The root of the misery, you presume. They’re too lost in thought that they don’t interact with the world itself.

“What were you thinking so hard about?” You muse.

The heart dissolves your vision. Loneliness is the first thing you identify, and you’re not surprised. The hands of the sorcerer are young, but you watch them age before your eyes into prominent veins and thin bone. They’re afraid of living their entire life alone, you conclude.

You hear laughter and voices around the sorcerer, old and haggard in a blank void, and recognize it as celebrations. Strangers and their joy of milestone landmarks, grand events like renewed vows and children, to even simple things. You hear the pop of a cap removed off a marker and know on instinct it’s an important test graded perfectly, and in another a song of a student practicing by themselves. That loneliness is so stifling they’re missing out on basic joys of life. They’re too worried about a hypothetical future far away from now.

Your breath hitches when you recognize one of the voices. It’s Mrs. Yamino, Shu’s mother. You hear the pride in her voice as she describes her son, and the sorcerer’s heart pulses in uselessness. Unease sets in, but your curiosity just needs to know, and you focus in on Mrs. Yamino.

The heart leads you in the direction of treasured people from the life of the sorcerer. Shu’s parents are both close to it, and things start to fall into place when you realize you recognize most of these blurry faces. There’s not many, and you don’t know them like the back of your hand, but you can connect the dots. You’ve exchanged words with a handful of these people, or heard mention of them over time.

Your own heart freezes when you meet the eye of yourself. A perfect copy of your face. The copy is soft over the blurry vision but you recognize the details of yourself, from the rise of your cheekbones to the slope of your nose, the way your brows quirk and the flecks of individual color in your eyes. You clock the shirt you wear as one from- from two years ago.

The copy of yourself doesn’t open their mouth, but you hear their detached voice drive icicles under your skin. “Disaster comes.”

You snap out of the vision. You feel your own heart beat in your chest.

You seal the jar and take in your surroundings. You’re back in your office, and the chemical smell dissipates away. You’re breathing heavily, and feel a trickle along your forehead. You brush it away, and realize you were sweating.

“What the hell,” you say out loud, because what else is there to say? There’s no way. This couldn’t be any worse, but you need the confirmation. You feel gross, but- there’s simply no way you can believe it unless you hear it from the heart itself.

Your hands wrap around the sorcerer’s heart, and you open the lid once more, even more cautious than the first time. You take a deep breath in hopes of steadying your own beat. “Heart, please be honest. Do I know your owner?”

As your vision goes dark, the black is only brightened by marks of pink and purple magic. Your heart sinks when you recognize the insignias they form. Pink curves into geometric heart-like shapes, and the purple spurts out from it in flame. A single shikigami from white paper brushes against the hearts.

You close the jar of the sorcerer’s heart- Shu Yamino’s heart- as tight as you can.

All thoughts of gnarled revenge go silent as you desperately start looking through your contacts. You never had the guts to delete his phone number, but now you’ve never been more grateful to have it available.

Reader 7:48 PM: I figured it out

Reader 7:48 PM: Why we always fight over nothing

Reader 7:49 PM: We need to talk about it

Reader 7:50 PM: Call me ASAP

He doesn’t respond. You don’t even know if he opened your texts or not. You try to be patient and distract your mind, but this is just too big to ignore, and you blow up the messages of his social media next.

Over half an hour passes without a response from Shu, and the time only makes the dread stronger. Everything makes sense now. Of course Shu would be so apathetic about everything for the past two years, he literally cut out his own heart. Anyone without the essence of their own heart would ignore their own emotions, because they don’t have emotions to experience!

However, one thing is nagging at you. Why on Earth would Shu sell his heart? He was more accredited than you, and you were doing just fine financially managing your sanctuary. Surely he couldn’t be in a tight enough spot to sell his heart for cash. He’s single and in love, and you didn’t get the vibe that he was going through a bad breakup, especially since it’s been over two years since he removed his heart. How do you stay in love without a heart? How do you pursue love from before selling your heart? And why was his heart’s vision of you so clear, God, you were one of the clearest visions you saw in an ocean of blurred faces!

More time passes as you desperately research what to do, and you notice Shu hasn’t read a single one of your messages, even on the platforms with read receipts. Even when he isn’t in the room, he still finds a way to tick you off.

The gnarl tries to rise, but you stave it off. By all means, you shouldn’t care so much about him after all you’ve told yourself, but he really is someone you’ve never found a replacement for. You’ve spent so much time in your past with him that it feels wrong to just keep his heart as some kind of object. You think about all your arguments, and… you wonder exactly how much of it was affected by the fact that he lived without a heart for so long. You never felt good about standing up for yourself, but you were justified, and you weren’t going to regret it at all, but you’re wondering about how much of a hero Shu is in his own story, and if he really sees you as the enemy you imaged him as all this time.

You stand up, still a little shaken, and take his heart in your hands as you look around for a bag, a jacket, and your keys. Even if he’s not the person you once knew, even if he always makes the choice to hurt you… He’s still a person. And the gnarl feels nightmarish, and you don’t want to be ruled by it anymore. You can’t leave him out to dry like that, and you deserve the closure even if you never talk to him again.

You lock the door behind you, and book it to Shu’s place.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You rap on Shu’s door one, two, three times. No response.

You pout at nothing, and knock another three times. “Yamino! Shu Yamino, I know you’re in there-”

The door opens before you finish your knocking and your sentence.

Sure enough, the man of the hour is on the other side of the threshold. The nicest way you can put it is that he looks like a doll that was left under the bed for too long. His eyes are so bright, but you can see the slight redness underneath his eyelids, and it strikes you that he hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s wearing a different hoodie than the one you saw him wear earlier that week, but it’s a far cry from his usual outfits, even when he’s relaxing at home.

Shu cocks his head, and you realize you’ve been silent this entire time. You jostle your head and muster up your courage. “I need to talk to you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he says.

“I did, but then I found this.” You rifle through you bag and shove the jar of the sorcerer’s heart against his chest. His body curves at the light impact. “We’ve got a lot to discuss. Let me in, please. For your sake.”

He stares at the preserve of his own heart for one, two, three seconds, before moving to the side and inviting you inside.

His home smells like patchouli burned and on the edge of fading, and despite everything, it’s as organized as ever, but that doesn’t stop him from saying “Sorry about the mess.” The house is small, but full of open spaces as you remember it, and you both sit on cushions in one of the emptier rooms. You can already feel the tinge of magic in this room, and you assume this is one where he practices his magic.

Sure enough, you blink and in front of you is an empty glass. Small licks of purple fire surround it, a mark of Shu’s magic. You bring it to your lips and you don’t even need to imagine your favorite beverage in order to taste it. When you lower it, sure enough, the drink is inside the cup without a trace of flame. This was one of Shu’s favorite welcoming conjurations whenever you visited in the past, and it lends you more comfort than you’d like to admit. Some things really don’t change.

Despite the familiarity, you set the drink down, and look straight at Shu. His preserved heart is to the left of you, out of his reach. You start your story. “I bought a practitioner’s heart on a bargain site ages ago. It was advertised as a sorcerer’s broken heart. The site’s words, not mine.”

You elect not to mention how you almost cursed Shu’s name into his own undoing. “I was about to use it for a spell, but I wanted to do some identification on it so I knew exactly what to expect from it. You deserve an apology for that. I saw a lot. I always knew you were hiding something, and I’m sorry that it came through magic after you sold your heart, instead of you telling me directly. But that’s how I figured out that it was you. I saw so many people I recognized, and the common factor between all of them was that they were all important to you.

“I checked the receipt email from when I bought it. Yeah, I was surprised I still had it too. But both the date when I bought it and the date when the site said it was extracted checks out with about the same timeframe you started to act so weird around me. So that’s why, isn’t it? I always got so mad at you for being so callous. I still do. But it’s because you’re missing your own heart. I’m not going to apologize for defending myself when you were acting like a prick, but I don’t think I can fault you for it. Or at least, not entirely.

“But all things considered, whether you intended to hurt me or not, you did. A lot. I’m going to remember the things you told me for a long time. But I’m also going to remember our past friendship for just as long, and you’re very lucky for that. What I want is closure. You always told me everything was fine, but you sold your own heart. Clearly things weren’t. And I don’t want to force you to tell me everything, but I just need to know. Were all our fights because I never knew you lost your heart?”

You observe Shu carefully. He closed his eyes as you recounted your story, and his chest slowly rose and fell in time with his breathing. He hasn’t taken a single sip of his enchanted cup, and the purple fire dances around the brim, waiting to fulfill its purpose. He looked serene as a painting, and you’d even believe it if it wasn’t for the grisly truth in a jar.

“Well, I do want to explain,” he finally says, after much deliberation that looks like nothing. “I should’ve been less of a coward and just told you. It’s always been you, after all. I sold my heart because I love you.”

What.

“What,” you say.

Then the shock sets in. “I mean. What? Like- you just- I mean- what?”

“I said, the reason why I sold my heart was because I was in love with you. Still am.” He averts his eyes and scratches the back of his head, but his serene apathy doesn’t change. “It was too much to bear, so I removed my heart.”

“I heard that.” The blood rushes to your head. The perfect answer to the mystery shatters. “I just don’t understand. I don’t get it at all. Are you messing with me?”

“I would never. Not over something as important as this.” “Then what am I missing? Why would you remove your heart because you’re in love? And- and with me! What the hell do you mean, you’re in love with me?”

“I figured it out about three years ago,” Shu said. “But I remember how I viewed you way before then. Things change, whether you want them or not, and it takes you a lot longer than you’d expect to realize it. I look back on what it was like growing up together as friends and compare it to how I saw you years ago as functioning adults, and there’s movement there. Feelings get stronger over time, and it’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. You’re an amazing person, Reader. I hope you realize that. Even through all our fights, I always thought the world of you for being able to simply hold your own. You don’t give up on the things you care about, and even when we did fight, I knew in the end you were in the right, even when you weren’t correct. I never could be. I didn’t have a heart, after all.

“I digress. I felt the warmth and the lightness way before that moment three years ago. I figured it was a crush then. Who wouldn’t? You have an energy all to your own that just gravitates people to you. I guess it makes sense I’d be affected.” Shu’s eyes cast downward. “But we’ve been such close friends for so long then, and for a crush? I wasn’t about to throw it all away for something as insignificant as that, especially when all my crushes before cleared themselves up quickly enough before they could get me into trouble. I made peace with ignoring it and just being happy as your friend.

“That worked for a while. The crush faded, and I’ve never been so relieved, until weeks or months later when it returned. Rinse and repeat. Every time I thought my crush was over for sure, it would only be a few more days until everything just comes back in droves, and over time, I realized I wasn’t even getting over it like I thought I was. It comes in waves of intensity, but it’s always constant, and always just a reminder that you’re one of the people I care for the most. That was three years ago. I realized that much time and that much care, even when you went through your lows, could never be something superficial like a crush. That’s when I realized I loved you.”

You have to admit, you’ve been hanging onto his every word but still have trouble wrapping your head around it. That long? And you had no clue?

You place your hands over your mouth and cheeks, and hope it hides your hot blush. All of it is so unexpected. You speak up. “That’s where everything went wrong?”

“Almost. That was when I was starting to make a name for myself as a sorcerer for hire. Lucky timing. We didn’t talk as frequently as we used to because we were both paying more attention to our careers, and for me, made less time to think about my love life. It was easier.” Shu finally takes a sip of his enchanted cup. When he places it down, you smell espresso and a hint of chocolate. “It’s so stupid. I visited my parents for dinner one evening, and everything was fine, but they mentioned that I need to get out more. Find a partner to introduce them to and all that. It was just another subject when we were talking, but I laid in bed that night thinking I couldn’t just move on after so much time stuck on you. I had to make a move.”

Shu raises his wrist and curls his fingers. The coffee spirals out of his cup and dances in the air just a few inches out of the mug, but not a drop spills as he bends the stream into patterns. You recognize this as one of his old nervous ticks. “But let’s be real. I’m a pretty spineless guy. I spent ages agonizing over how to tell you.” The coffee curves into a heart, just like the ones that generate whenever he performs a spell. “You and I both know my intuition’s pretty bad. I was so sick of wussing out, I tried divining my own future so many times to figure out what I need to do. Tarot cards, runes, tea leaves… none of it made sense to me. I couldn’t muster up the courage to ask anyone else for advice, either. You were the only person I could ever trust, but you were also the only person on my mind. And then I realized, of course. The best person to ask about confessing to someone, is that person themselves. I requested a reading.”

An epiphany dawns on you. “I remember that. It was the last time you asked me to read your fortune before this week, just over two and a half years ago.”

“I remember my spread so viscerally.” Shu lowers his hand. The coffee plops into the cup obediently. “I didn’t have the courage to mention my love life, so I asked you-”

“‘Will I be happy with the choices I plan on making?’”

You both say it at the same time. Shu’s lips form into a small smile, but the look behind his amethyst eyes is bittersweet.

He continues. “The Hermit, the Tower, and the Moon. The Hermit explained that I’ve spent so much time being introspective that I became too much of an introvert. And the Tower, that disaster comes. The Moon only confirmed that my future outcome would be full of trickery. Pretty gnarly reading. Plus, it came from you, and even if we didn’t know each other so well, I’d be an idiot not to heed a warning like that from one of the best divination witches in the city, if not the best.

“By the time I left your sanctuary, I resolved to get over my feelings for sure this time, but it just sent me into a depression. I isolated myself so much from the world outside and the things I used to enjoy because that reality was so crushing. Which was to be expected, but not for as long as it was. The more time I spent alone, the more time I had to think about how none of this was your fault. It was because of these emotions of mine.”

Shu places a hand over his chest. Even at home, he wears a pair of white gloves. His nails scratch through the fabric and against the skin. “I tried fighting the urge, but after six months, I gave up.”

His hand curls into a loose fist. “It’s the greatest regret of my life. I still feel, but it’s all mechanical, and my brain processes it like fact. I can look at a cat video and smile, but it doesn’t give me anything, and I’m sure we all know it looks fake anyways. I don’t remember the last time I laughed genuinely. I haven’t been properly afraid of anything ever since the soul was extracted out of my heart. I have a sense of danger, but no anxiety. No thrills, either. If anything, it made me even more cautious. No reason in doing things the risky way anymore if there’s no fun in it.” He leans back and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t process anger or sadness anymore, either. I thought it was amazing at first, but now I’m just bored at best, miserable at worse. Without any emotion to fuel me, my life’s in disarray. I don’t even get access to motivation anymore. And worst of all, the depression and love is still there.

“I think you can piece together what happened next. You were concerned over me, but I always brushed you off because, well, how do you talk about your feelings without having any? Whenever we fought, I’d spend the next few days beating myself up for what I’m missing. I can’t pick up on a lot of emotional cues anymore, so it got even easier to say the wrong thing, and whenever I did, I didn’t have the empathy to see where I went wrong. It became easier to just ignore you, and when you stopped talking to me so much… I can’t really fault you for taking the easy route either.”

Shu downs the rest of the coffee, and you realize just how small he looks right now. He slouches over the cup, and his legs are folded over his thighs as he sits. You don’t think he realizes that he’s trying to take up as little space in the room as possible. Now that you’ve been able to actually pay attention to Shu’s demeanor and his story, you’re starting to pick out the tiny details of feeling that show through, even when the sorcerer himself can’t access the raw emotion. Case in point: his lowered eyes and subtle frown makes you think he just got back from a funeral.

You poke him in the bicep. “You’re pretty clueless.”

His brow furrows, like a mourner disturbed.

You continue nonetheless. “No wonder intuition is so difficult for you to channel. Life isn’t black and white, and divinations come in shades of gray way more often than any other category of magic. Remind me; what was your reading all those years ago?”

“If I’d be happy with the choice to confess to you. Hermit, Tower, and Moon.”

“Hindsight is 20/20. The Hermit represented how much you reflected on your feelings and trying to avoid them by the time you came to me for a reading. You got that much right, I’m sure, but the Tower is a tumultuous change. You’re right that it’s disastrous. In fact, I think the reason why you got so tripped up in the reading-” you playfully roll your eyes- “that I analyzed for you, was because it has such a reputation for being disastrous that people forget that the Tower isn’t suffering for the sake of suffering. In fact, the Tower falls because it’s built upon a weak foundation, and its destruction warrants necessary change. It’s often that the changes predicted by that card are only so hard because the recipient is caught off-guard by the possibility that it could happen, or by playing right into the future that would cause such a major change to happen. I think you can figure out what kind of change the Tower was predicting, and exactly how disastrous it was.” Shu lowers his gaze to the empty space underneath his chest, and that’s about as well as either of you can put it.

“Finally, the Moon may warn of trickery, but more importantly, it refers to complexities. The card art itself is full of similarities, from the buildings to the canines in the center, and that symbolizes difficult choices ahead that require a lot of forethought. Avoid deception, especially deception from your own doubts. The night is dark, and the Moon’s light is how you navigate through with trust in your gut feeling.” You try to keep a cool head as you continue explaining the reading. “And when it appears in readings about love, it represents uncertain or complicated feelings. That’s a pretty apt description of the fallout when you sold your heart. You did it because you were tired of all your conflicting feelings, then dealing with the removal of said feelings, and I know I didn’t make it any better by acting so immature and lashing out at you.”

“It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, wasn’t it?” Shu asks.

“Any divination is a glimpse into a possible future. No path is certain until you embark on it,” you say. “I’m sorry to say it, but you went down that path.”

Shu hums in response. “I really am an idiot.”

“A lucky idiot.” You reach for Shu’s preserved heart, and hold it in your hands. “A lot of practitioners would pay top dollar for this thing. I bought it for $19.99.”

Somehow, that was the most insulted you’ve seen Shu yet. “It sold for that little?”

“Bargain hunting has its benefits.” You shrug. “Every single human heart for sale has some kind of story, and if you buy one, then you have to be at peace with that. But when I figured out it was yours, the idea of keeping it creeped me out. I have to be honest, most of the reason I came here was for closure, and I’m glad I got that, but you don’t have any at all. You really deserve it, though.”

You take Shu’s hand in yours, then press the jar into his palm. “Want your heart back?”

He stares at it. His face is totally blank. “More than anything.”

“It was a twenty-dollar bill and some change. All I ask is that you swear that you won’t be a jerk when you get your heart back. And dinner.”

“You’re giving it to me?”

“You need it more than me.” You take your hands off the jar. Shu’s hands keep it secure instead. “Get yourself together. Put your heart back where it belongs.”

“But it’s removed. How do you just put it back?”

“I did some research. There’s a ritual we can do together.”

“Together?”

“Technically, it’s more of a solo conjuration thing. But I’m not totally sure how good replacing the heart on yourself is going to go, so if you need anything, you can count on me. I brought some pages on common procedures about the soul of the heart.” You sift through your bag and produce a bunch of papers. Each one is a photocopy of a tome from your personal collection, or a verified practitioners’ site. “Lore doesn’t state any limitations on practitioners nor witnesses involved. And just to be sure, I did a ton of research on the active components and method. It’s safe. But of course, I don’t want to pressure you into doing this if it’s not something you want to do.”

“Let me look through some of these myself,” Shu says. “But, Reader, I’ve caused you nothing but hurt because of my own selfishness. Are you really serious about letting me have this?”

“Listen to me, and everything I’m about to say.” You place your palms over Shu’s and look straight in his eyes. “Nothing is going to change the past, but we’re not bound by it. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You screwed up, big time. But that was a bunch of mistakes, and everyone makes mistakes. That’s only human. You put your heart back where it belongs and make amends for yourself, then that’s redemption. Everyone deserves redemption just as often as they make mistakes.”

You sort through the papers on the floor, and separate the ritual procedure from the rest of them. “Also, you gotta realize how weird it is to own your heart and not even be your friend. Take it. Don’t let me be one of those weirdo witches,” you joke.

The sorcerer scans through the ritual’s instructions in silence. After he’s done with it, he picks up each piece of paper you brought with you, and reads those too. He brushes his finger against the text as he reads, and you look over his shoulder. Whenever his finger scrolls along an important passage, a pink highlight remains on the paper.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” he says.

“You aren’t.”

Shu takes a breath, but his eyes don’t leave the ritual instructions. “You remember where I store my components, right?” You hum in agreement. “You have every right to deny it, but Reader, is it okay if you help me replace my heart?”

“About time you finally realize you need help. Nothing wrong about asking for it.” For the first time in years, you smile at Shu himself. “I will.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“I invite what may be returned to me, and to my soul, I beckon thee. Allow the severed to be healed and the heart to be sealed. On my heart, so I declare it be.”

Shu sits in the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of purple candles blooming in brilliant magenta flames. You sit across from him enclosed by the fire, and the jar containing his heart is fully open. As Shu chants the final words of the incantation, the preserve inside of the jar evaporates into a smoky gas that curls around the air before embedding itself directly into his chest.

The flames break into ash and dissipate when the remnants of the preserved heart erases itself, and all that’s left is the liquid it came in. A shikigami breezes across Shu’s closed eyes, heralding the end of the ritual. The magic still hangs in the air like residue, and so does the silence after the plume and crackle of fire.

Shu’s eyes flutter open, caught in the haze of sorcery, and blink. With each blink those amethyst eyes grow brighter and waver as he takes in the world around him. His lips part, and his irises search around as he presses a hand to his heart. You notice the fabric of his hoodie fold around his fingers.

You don’t even need to study him carefully to recognize the way that the corners of his mouth slowly upturn. You catch a flash of teeth, and his cheekbones rise enough that his eyes squint.

“Did it work-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat as you’re enveloped by a strong hug.

“Reader!” Shu calls your name, and his voice is so light, almost musical in tone, pure relief and joy. “Reader! Reader, it’s back. Everything is back.”

You didn’t have any time to react, but your head is propped up against Shu’s shoulder, and you listen to his high voice, almost childlike in wonder. “Everything’s back.”

His chest rises and falls against your body, and you realize he’s crying. He hiccups. “I’m so happy. I never thought I’d feel happy again, but- but I am, and I feel…!”

You finally comprehend the situation as Shu weeps, and let your arms wrap around his body. You pat his back and rub circles against his spine as you close your eyes and lean into the crook of his neck, tightening the hug. His raven-black hair brushes against your face. It’s soft.

Shu finally parts from the hug when his tears start to dry, and you’re struck by the absence of his warmth. He paws at the remaining tear tracks on his flushed cheeks with the back of his sleeve. “I’m so sorry for everything, Reader. I’m sorry for getting you roped into this mess.”

“What are friends for?” You say.

His forehead raises. “We’re friends?”

“Now that you’ve figured out your own problems, sure. I stopped considering us friends because I thought you hated me.”

“I could never.” Shu’s face falls. “Even when we fought, I always thought you were too good for me. You deserved better than how I treated you.”

“But I always flew off the handle with you. I wish I could’ve understood you, or at least acted reasonably. I’m sorry I was irrational.”

“You had a point.”

“It’s in the past anyways. I’m not forgetting this, but I’m going to forgive you. And by the way, I don’t want to overwhelm you right after you got your heart back, but are we going to talk about how you’re in love with me?”

“Oh my godddd.” Shu’s hands collapse over his face. He lets out a long-suffering groan. “I can’t believe I said all of that.”

You shuffle into a more comfortable position next to him. “Were you just never going to tell me?”

“I didn't want to after the reading. I was afraid, and then right when I removed my heart I didn’t see a point. Being able to see you happy was good enough, but then you were never happy when you were around me, and then I didn’t see you at all. I mentioned that I don’t- I used to not feel fear, right? I thought we’d never see each other again. So when you showed up at my doorstep and just started asking questions, I didn’t even blink before I answered them.” Shu sighs again. “I’m so embarrassed. This whole heart thing was the worst way you could’ve figured it out, and you weren’t even going to reciprocate.”

You stare at the floor. “How did you figure that?” You ask.

“There's no way I'd have a chance. That reading ate me alive, it was so bad. Or I just made it bad because I misinterpreted it…?” He trails off in thought, and his hands drag down his face. His amethyst eyes are puffy, and sparkle with dried tears. He looks like a kicked puppy. “I don’t know, just that I messed up hard. Don’t make it sound better than it actually is.”

“I mean, it kind of is. Better, I mean.” You’re very interested in the grain of the hardwood at this point. Anything to distract you from the heat rising in your face and how admitting this feels like pulling teeth. “I, um, really felt something more than friends for a while. I liked you. A lot. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and so is the feeling.”

Shu grabs your arm in surprise. You feel your body tense. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m serious,” you mumble.

In a moment Shu realizes he’s touching you, and jerks away awkwardly while his hands slap over his mouth again. All he can manage to say is a stuttery “O-oh.”

You both sit in the silence of your blush. Your own thoughts pile onto each other with such frequency that you begin to forget where all of it is leading until you force yourself to calm down. Each thought paints one picture: The feeling was mutual for so long.

“I need to be honest with you,” you say. “The feelings for you? They’re a jumble. I know that they’re real, and I know that I liked you before we stopped talking, but when we did, I was hurt. Everything I feel for you is so strong, but I don’t even know if I’m still mad or attracted or what after the last few hours, and- ugggh.” You quietly growl as your thought process hits a wall. You throw your neck back and look up at the ceiling. “I have a lot to figure out, and it’s late. But let’s stay in contact this time. I want to know you again, and I want to know if the feelings are still there. If this can happen.”

“I’d like that,” Shu says. His arm drops to the side, and he exhales as he does. His body relaxes. The corner of his eye still shines from when he cried, but his lips bear a smile of awe. You see him as he is, a man exhausted but euphoric, a hiker at the apex of a mountain. “You liked me too. I can’t believe it. I must be dreaming.”

“If you still think you’re dreaming…”

Courage possesses you as you thumb away the last of his tears and press your lips against his cheek.

Shu turns to you as you back away from him, and watches you like a deer in the headlights. It takes him a second to raise his fingers and brush where you kissed him, but when he does, his face blooms in shocked color.

Then he jumps. “Ow!”

You giggle a little as he reacts to you pinching him. “If you were dreaming, that would’ve woken you up.”

Shu’s eyebrows knit together in frustration, before he remembers where he is and what just happened. Now that his emotion is back, his face is a journey from pouting to surprise to amazement, and when he takes you and your own nervousness in, he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out one tiny, high-pitched squeak from pure happiness.

“That’s adorable.” You laugh again and stand up. You pick up your bag as you walk away, but stop before you leave. “By the way, we agreed I’d trade your heart back if you bought me dinner. I’ll close my sanctuary early on Friday, so go think of somewhere nice to eat together.”

“Wait.”

Before you turn the doorknob and leave Shu’s home, the sorcerer approaches. You cock your head, signaling him to speak. “Reader, can I kiss you?”

You close your eyes and nod.

Shu places one hand on your shoulder and the other behind your head. His gloved fingers stoke your hair when your lips meet.

You lean into the kiss while Shu holds your head at just the perfect angle, and you feel all the ennui from the past two years crumble.

Longing, respect, faith, love; it all comes through the way he presses against you. You feel against the muscle of his back and relief floods through the kiss.

Enchanted, he smooths down your hair, and shivers when your hands trails up his back and along the nape of his neck. Shu holds you close and flush to his chest, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat crying out in satisfaction. This is where he’s meant to be, after all. All of the puzzle pieces fit together like lips locked.

You part when you run out of breath, and rest your head against his chest. His heart thrums in time with yours.

“Let me escort you out,” he says, and you let him lead as he takes your hand in his. The door shuts behind you. “I’m grateful for everything.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re back to yourself again,” you say. “I’ll be looking forward to Friday.”

“Wait. Is it a date?”

A hidden slice of your soul smiles. You squeeze his hand. “It’s a date.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #luxiem #4402 writes #OOOEEEUUOOUGHGHHH i think this prompt mind controlled me for the last five days straight #i put a lot of thought into the fortunes here idk why all my shu writing gets so pagan tho

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