🌸Chi-chan No Chisana Himitsu🌸

To: Inosuke Hashibira 🐷 Hi Inosuke… Let’s talk. Please.

No… I don’t want to sound as if I am begging.

To: Inosuke Hashibira 🐷 Pig-Head, were you serious earlier?

Too casual… He’ll think I’m taking things as a joke…

To: Inosuke Hashibira 🐷 Hi Inosuke, I hope you’re reading this. I’m worried about you. But please remember I am here always. Okay?

You deleted your message for Inosuke for the nth time. It was as if there was a war inside your head that kept on messing things up. Messaging him should be easy, right? He's been your best friend ever since you were young.

But is he still the same Inosuke… now?

"I am just tired. I am tired of looking for something that is not there anymore."

Isn’t it too late to tell him that you’re there for him always? You had abandoned him the time you told everything that happened between the two of you was a mistake. You had left him in the dark when you chose to be with Zenitsu—even secretly.

Ever since, the world has been so unfair to Inosuke. And when we say 'world', it just meant you, as you were his everything.

The aching of your chest felt like a constant beating that you needed to endure as punishment for everything. It’s getting so hard to breathe.

Ding!

"Inosuke!"

As if a miracle just happened, you unlocked your phone, expecting a message from Inosuke as he is the one who always messages you before to either challenge you or just check on you because you are very weak.

From: [Dance Club] Muichiro Tokito (3 Images Attached) President, here are the receipts from the after-party in case you’ll need them for the audit. VP left with his gf early earlier, and Hashibira wasn't here earlier, so I'm just sending this to you directly. Night.

Your breath hitched at Muichiro’s message. Nezuko was there… and Zenitsu left with her early.

"Wow… I wasn’t there, and she finally appears like a princess."

Bitterness crept into your chest as you tried your best to check the attached receipts. Yes, your mind was suddenly filled with a jealous rage, even if you knew you had no right to do so. It was silly, really—quite puzzling even.

One second, you were on the verge of tears from what Inosuke did earlier. And yet now, all you feel is how… idiotic and dirty you are again.

The second choice.

The backup.

The mistress…

You had spent so long wondering if you were enough to make Zenitsu look.

Now, you know you are. However, it is only enough to make him stumble, not enough to make him leave and choose you.

This is true…

Until now, Zenitsu’s still stuck in a cycle of too much and ghosting, something that he has been living with forever. Never in your life had you anticipated that you'd be stuck in this cycle with him.

So ironic… Really ironic…

The door clicked. You know who this is already even before you turn to look.

"Ughhh! Baby… It was so boring!"

Warmth suddenly embraced you, and yet, unlike before, you didn’t have the strength to give it back. The constant hammering in your head made you feel like you were going to puke even.

"Hmm, bet it was really boring," you forced yourself to say as you sat still, holding your phone and letting Zenitsu squish himself against you.

You’re really insensitive… Aren’t you?

You wanted to tell him, but you know you can’t do that. It would be suicide, at least for your needy heart that craved his attention and validation.

Before you could ponder your next thought, his warm lips brushed against your neck. You should be turned on, right? And yet… you pushed him away.

"I’m tired, Zenitsu."

"But… you went home after the performance… How come—Ugh, fine. I’ll behave."

The usual urge to look his way, to soothe him after an impending tantrum, simply never came. The instinct was dead. In fact, watching him retreat only brought a bitter realisation: if not for the spare key tucked safely in his pocket, locking the door against the world would be the only thing that mattered right now.

Tension hung thick in the air as he shuffled to the other side of the room. Every little sound he made, from the rustle of his clothes to the heavy sigh as he flopped down, started to grate like sandpaper on an open wound. The sheer entitlement radiating off him was unbearable.

The numbness was receding, replaced by a sudden, scalding heat that bloomed right in the centre of your chest.

A quiet, mocking laugh threatened to bubble up. Boring. That was the word he had used. He had literally just come from playing the doting boyfriend to his princess, dropping her off early, only to sneak over here and try to crawl into this bed. The sheer audacity of his behaviour was dizzying.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the phone until your knuckles turned white. Looking down at Muichiro’s message, the text blurred beneath a sudden spike of adrenaline. The sadness from earlier, the pathetic longing to be chosen, it all vanished. It was burnt away by a humiliating, fierce resentment.

How dare he? How dare he treat this room like a pit stop?

You glanced toward him, revealing nothing but a boy completely oblivious to the wreckage he left in his wake. The urge to yell, to throw the phone straight at his face, or to rip the spare key right out of his pocket clawed at the back of your throat. The needy, desperate version of you that craved his validation had just been replaced by something much darker and infinitely more dangerous.

"You didn’t tell me Nezuko will be there."

The silence that followed your words didn’t just fall; it crashed.

The rustle of the sheets stopped instantly. For a second, the only sound in the room was the hum of the refrigerator and the frantic, heavy pounding of your own heart. You didn’t turn to look at him, keeping your eyes locked onto the glowing screen of your phone, where Muichiro’s text message and the three receipt images felt like a smoking gun.

Behind you, Zenitsu froze. The relaxed, entitled aura he had carried into the room evaporated, replaced by a sudden, suffocating tension.

"What...?"

His voice was entirely different now. The whiny, pampered tone he used when he wanted affection was gone, replaced by something thin, sharp, and laced with immediate panic.

"I said," you repeated, your voice terrifyingly calm, though the scalding heat in your chest felt like it was going to burn you alive from the inside out. "You didn't tell me Nezuko would be there."

You finally turned your head.

Zenitsu was sitting up on the edge of the bed. In the dim light of the room, you could see his eyes wide, his pupils dilated with the distinct, ugly look of someone who had just been caught red-handed. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his hands gripping the mattress so tightly his fingers twitched.

"How—how did you..." he stammered, his eyes darting to your phone. He reached out a hand instinctively, as if to grab it to erase the evidence, before pulling it back like the screen was made of fire.

"Who told you that? Wait, no—baby, listen to me. It's not what you think!"

The classic line. The absolute, pathetic predictability of it almost made you laugh out loud.

"It's not what I think?"

You finally let your gaze lock onto his. The dead, cold resentment in your eyes made him flinch.

"Tokito-kun sent me the receipts for the audit, Zenitsu. He mentioned the VP left early with his girlfriend. Do you want me to look at the timestamps? Should we match up exactly what time you decided the party was 'boring' and when you decided to come here?"

"No! No, look, Nezuko just... she showed up out of nowhere!" Zenitsu scrambled off the bed, dropping to his knees right in front of you, trying to grasp your hands. You pulled them back, tucking them against your chest, refusing to let him touch you.

His face crumpled, tears immediately welling up in his eyes—the same tears that used to make your heart ache, the same tears that used to make you drop everything just to comfort him. Now, looking at them, you just felt a profound sense of disgust. It was the absolute, pathetic predictability of it all.

You were his comfort, not his choice. The anger still simmered, yes, but it was being pushed down by the crushing weight of reality.

You were the other woman.

You had no right to these feelings.

"I swear, I didn't know she was coming!" Zenitsu pleaded, his voice cracking as he reached for the hem of your shirt instead, his touch desperate.

"She just appeared, and everyone was looking at us, and she asked me to take her home because she wasn't feeling well. I couldn't just say no in front of the whole club! It would look so weird, you know how people talk! But I left her right after! I didn't stay with her, I came straight to you! Because I wanted to see you!"

"Because I'm easy," you whispered, the words slipping out like a sigh. You weren't asking a question anymore. You were stating a fact you had finally accepted. "Because you already played the good boyfriend for the crowd, and now you want your reward... here."

Zenitsu flinched as if you had struck him across the face, his eyes wide with hurt. "No! Don't say it like that! You know how much you mean to me. You know I love being here with you—"

"You love being here with me because I don't ask you to choose," you interrupted, the words heavy and dull.

"You drop her off, you play the prince, and then you come here to crawl into my bed because I’m the one who doesn’t create a scene. Because I’m the mistress, Zenitsu. I’m the dirty little secret you can forget about the moment you leave this room."

"That's not true!" he cried out, a sob finally escaping his throat. He reached up, desperately trying to catch your gaze, his face flushed with a mix of guilt and terror, his fingers trembling where they held your shirt.

"You're not a secret! I just... I'm trapped, okay?! You don't understand the pressure I'm under, with the club, with her, with everyone expecting me to be one thing! Here, with you, I can breathe! I don't have to put on a show!"

"At my expense," you said, your voice cracking slightly, the initial rage fading into a hollow despair. "You get to breathe, Zenitsu, while I'm suffocating. You get to have the perfect public relationship, and then you come here for the 'comfort' of the shadow that’s always waiting for you."

You stood up, your legs shaking, forcing him to look up at you from the floor. He scrambled to his feet, trying to get close, trying to erase the physical and emotional distance you were creating.

"Give me the key," you said, the request a sudden, sharp demand, the last vestige of that dangerous resentment flaring up.

Zenitsu froze, his tear-streaked face going completely pale, the colour draining away instantly.

"What...?"

"The spare key. In your pocket. Take it out and put it on the table. If I’m just a pit stop, then you don’t need unbridled access to my life." You were bluffing, and you knew it. But the words gave you a fleeting, desperate moment of power.

"No... No, baby, please, don't do this!"

He stepped forward, his voice rising into a panicked wail. He grabbed your forearms, his grip tight and trembling.

"You told me you'd wait, Y/N..."

"I AM WAITING!"

The scream ripped from your throat before you could stop it, raw and bleeding with all the years of silence you had forced yourself to endure.

Zenitsu flinched, but he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his tears hot against your skin. "Then please wait a little longer. It's hard right now."

Of course it's hard. It's so difficult because both of you are under the veil of shadows—seeking refuge in a love that shouldn't exist.

Is this how the Red Queen felt when she succeeded in stealing the crown? All your life, you thought having Zenitsu would be sunshine and butterflies, but right now, it felt as if you were already burning to ashes with the feeling that had held you hostage for years.

And yet, as his warmth enveloped you, the fight drained completely from your body. You hated yourself. You hated how the smell of his cologne and the desperate, erratic thud of his heart against your chest acted like a physical anchor. He was a drug, a toxic addiction running through your veins, and no matter how much it poisoned you, your body screamed that it needed him to survive.

You didn't have the strength to push him away. The sheer, terrifying vulnerability in his tone was the hit you couldn't miss.

Your arms, which had been rigid against his chest, slowly crept up around his neck, locking him into a tight, enabling embrace.

You surrendered.

You let him keep the key.

You let him keep you.

"I hate you," you whispered into his hair, though the hands anchoring him to you said the exact opposite. "I hate how much I need you."

A shuddering gasp of pure relief escaped Zenitsu’s lips.

"I know, I know... I'm sorry, baby. Thank you for staying. I love you so much."

He pulled back just enough to capture your lips, kissing you with a frantic, desperate hunger, trying to erase the ghost of Nezuko from his skin and the reality of the world outside. You kissed him back, melting into his touch, letting the temporary euphoria of his mouth against yours take over.

On the surface, the storm had passed. You were making up, tangled in the sheets, whispering quiet reassurances in the dark as he held you like you were his entire world. But beneath the warmth of his skin and the sweet murmurs of love, the truth remained.

You were still the shadow.

You were still the secret.

As you closed your eyes and let him hold you, you knew you were completely, utterly dying inside.

"Boss Lady. You okay?"

"Inosuke?"

"Why are you looking at the Alice sketch I gave you before, you silly?"

You blinked, the sudden sound of his rough, familiar voice cutting through the thick fog in your head.

It had been a quiet, agonising week at the Dance Club without Inosuke. And as if fate were already driving him away from you, because you never had the chance to catch even a single glimpse of him around the university campus, here he was.

At the library—the absolute last place on earth he would ever willingly show his face.

Did he come here looking for me? No... Of course not. Don't be pathetic.

You were only here because you were sulking, hiding away after the suffocating fight you had with Zenitsu a few nights ago. And perhaps… burning time as well, as Nezuko is around again, and you know he will be busy with her.

You were drowning in the lingering resentment because, even after all your tears and threats to take back the spare key, Zenitsu still hadn't done a single thing to actually change. He still hadn't chosen you fully. He just kept you tucked away in the dark, and you had willingly surrendered to it because you were too weak to let him go.

Oblivious to all of that mess, Inosuke pulled out the heavy wooden chair directly in front of you. With a blunt, careless movement, he reached over and snatched his Alice sketch right out of your hands, making a quiet groan escape from your throat.

"You can literally ask me if you want more of these."

Your eyes snapped up at him, wide and aching with a sudden, sharp yearning.

In truth, you had been desperately craving his presence all week, but you hadn't spoken a single word since he walked away.

You couldn't even begin to ponder why he was being so kind to you now. Not after everything. Not after you had quietly let him quit the dance club without even trying to stop him.

You had wanted to message him so badly every single day, to beg him to come back, but how could you? How could you dare to reach out after the history you shared?

The memory of your one-night stand still burnt like an open wound between you.

That night had happened before things ever became this real with Zenitsu—back when you were already drowning in a pathetic, unrequited longing for the blonde.

You had used Inosuke. You had thrown yourself into his warmth, desperately trying to use him as a distraction to forget Zenitsu and erase the painful yearning from your chest, though you never dared to tell Inosuke that.

But the worst part wasn't even using him; it was what came after.

In a cruel panic, terrified of what you had done, you had looked right into Inosuke's eyes and told him he was a mistake. You had coldly demanded that he forget it all, dismissing his raw vulnerability as something shameful because your messed-up heart was still hooked on someone else.

You were already far too busy handling your own suffocating conscience after yearning for Zenitsu’s love and trying to forget it at the same time to care about how deeply you were cutting Inosuke.

And yet, despite your silence and your cruelty, Inosuke was still being nice to you.

His beautiful, green eyes didn't carry that same fierce, burning intensity anymore, though. That raw, protective fire you used to take for granted was entirely gone. It was like a hollow shell of his usual self. Just like you had feared, you really did kill something vital inside him the day you called your night together a mistake and told him to act like it never happened.

Cruel. You had been so devastatingly cruel to him.

Looking at his face now, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed over you. You could vividly remember when you were younger; he used to have this ragged old pig mask that he wore constantly when you played by the river. Back then, he was just a lawless, feral brute who would literally suplex you into the dirt for taking his bugs away, not caring in the least that you were a girl.

Hence, earning that "Pig-Head" nickname from Zenitsu.

Inosuke hadn't worn that mask since you guys turned fourteen, proudly declaring to the two of you that he was all grown up and didn't need it anymore. It was heartbreaking to remember those hot summer days now, staring at the shattered fragments of your trio. You used to be entirely inseparable, and yet now, all that was left between the three of us were the quiet ashes of what you used to be.

"How are you?" Inosuke asked, his voice dropping lower as he leaned his forearms against the table. "How's... that... Blondie?"

"Hm... Okay, I guess," you murmured, forcing your eyes away from his. "He's still a simp."

Lies. Pure lies. Both of us are absolute liars right now.

"Ah..." Inosuke shifted in his chair, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

He didn't pull away or look angry; he just stared down at the desk, idly tracing the rough edges of his sketch with a blunt fingernail. It was a completely quiet, mundane gesture, but the utter lack of his usual boisterous energy made the air feel incredibly heavy.

"You're quiet," you said, forcing a small, fragile laugh to break the tension. You needed to sound normal. You needed to act like the Boss Lady who wasn't currently cracking into pieces inside.

"Since when do you come to the library to just sit and stare at a piece of paper, Pig-Head? I thought you hated this place."

Inosuke shrugged, not quite meeting your gaze.

"Dunno. Just wanted a quiet place, I guess. Everything's... loud lately."

"Is it?" You gripped your phone beneath the table, your thumb brushing against the screen where Zenitsu's unread messages still sat. "I haven't really noticed. It's actually been way too quiet at the studio this past week."

You paused, looking at him softly. "Everyone misses you, you know. The energy is totally dead without our resident loudmouth making a fool of himself, and nobody is pushing the choreography to be as fiercely competitive as you did."

"They'll manage," Inosuke muttered, his voice trailing off. He finally looked up, his green eyes scanning your face with that unnerving, innate perception he always had when it came to you. He let out a heavy breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. "I am glad you and that Blondie are okay now... You two seemed to have problems last time."

You felt a physical jolt go through your chest, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Yeah," you murmured, forcing your voice to remain flat, steady.

He was talking about that rough patch weeks ago—the agonising stretch of days when Zenitsu was ghosting you, when the cycle of his 'too much' had suddenly frozen into a terrifying distance.

Back then, you had been entirely consumed by the pain Zenitsu inflicted to you, spending every spare second hanging out with Inosuke just to keep your mind from shattering, dragging him along wherever you went. Inosuke had stayed by your side through all of it, fiercely protective and completely steady, though he had absolutely no context as to why you were suddenly so broken, or why your world had ground to a halt.

"We patched things up," you added quietly, trying to brush it off.

But as the words left your mouth, Inosuke let out a short, hollow sound—a sharp scoff that he immediately tried to swallow down. His jaw tightened so hard a small muscle twitched in his cheek, and his hand froze completely over the paper.

The soft, gentle expression he had been wearing vanished, replaced by a sudden, rigid coldness. He looked away instantly, staring out the library window, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table.

Your heart skipped a beat. Inosuke had always found Zenitsu annoying—they had fought like cats and dogs since childhood—but this wasn't his usual loud irritation. This was a deep, bitter resentment. A defensive wall going up instantly at the mere mention of your reconciliation.

You watched him, the puzzle pieces in your mind suddenly spinning into a terrifying alignment. You remembered how tense the atmosphere had been during those late-night practices before everything fell apart, back when Inosuke was still in the club.

You had been too blinded by your own desperation for Zenitsu to notice back then, but now, seeing the raw animosity radiating off Inosuke, it hit you. They had their own issues. Something had happened between them entirely behind your back.

A desperate question started clawing its way up your chest.

"Inosuke..." you started, your voice dropping to a cautious whisper. "Did something happen between the two of you... before we..."

You stopped yourself abruptly, the words catching in your throat. You weren't sure if you should really bring up the night of your mistake; the night you crossed the line and then told him to erase from his mind. But Inosuke just looked back across the table at you, his eyes incredibly sad and entirely honest. He had always been so terribly bad at lying; you could read his expressions instantly, just like when you were kids.

"Yeah. Actually," he admitted softly.

"Oh? You two fought?"

"Hm... Not really. Just things."

"What things, Inosuke?"

"Remember the night when we practised for your competition?" he asked, tapping a blunt fingernail against the edge of the sketch.

"Yeah."

"There's something about the way... Blondie told me things," Inosuke muttered, his brow furrowing as he looked down at the table. "It was as if... he wanted to own you?"

"Ha?"

You sat there, completely astounded, a cold shock running down your spine. What? What the hell did Zenitsu do behind your back?

"Hm... He told me to not treat you like a baby bird," Inosuke continued, his voice heavy with a quiet, lingering regret. "He told me to stay away from you and just be the best friend you need."

The fuck? Your mind raced, calculating the timeline. That was back when you and Zenitsu were still on a rocky road, right after you had first sinned with him and accepted being his secret. Zenitsu had been acting like a possessive boyfriend in secret, while publicly playing the prince for someone else.

But Zenitsu's hypocrisy didn't shock you nearly as much as Inosuke's next words.

"I wish I just followed Zenitsu though," Inosuke whispered, his green eyes reflecting a profound, crushing sorrow as he looked up at you.

"Those days that I asked you to use me... I actually didn't know what your ghosts were. But... I think I should have really just settled as the best friend you needed at that time... and not crossed my boundaries."

He had truly, completely surrendered. He sat there believing he was the one who had ruined your friendship by crossing the line, entirely oblivious to the fact that the ghosts you were running from belonged to the very guy who had warned him away.

He had no idea that Zenitsu was the one holding your heart hostage, or that you were currently dying inside as another woman. Inosuke was just stepping back into the shadows, trying to respect the boundaries you had ordered him to forget, leaving you entirely alone in the mess you had made.

A suffocating wave of pain crashed over you, so sharp and heavy it left you completely breathless. You felt utterly heartbroken, yet your mind was too clouded, too entirely numb from your own self-destructive choices, to fully process the weight of what you were doing. You were acting like an idiot, trapped in a desperate cycle, and before your brain could even filter the words, a memory slipped past your lips out of nowhere.

"Do you remember..." you started, a fragile, hollow laugh escaping you as you stared at the table. "What I told you? Before all this mess?"

Inosuke didn't move, but you could see the rigid tension in his posture.

"I told you that if Zenitsu ended up marrying Nezuko and you and I were both still single at 30, I’d just marry you instead."

The words tasted like poison on your tongue now. Back when you had said it, Inosuke was still burying his feelings deep inside, and you had been completely oblivious to the depth of his devotion. You had thought it was just a silly, comforting joke between best friends.

You remembered exactly how he had reacted back then. Inosuke had looked at you with a rare, fierce seriousness and told you that if the two of you actually made it to thirty single, he would literally sweep the entire world just to find you if you tried to ditch him again. He had told you not to dare tell Zenitsu about that promise either, because he was terrified the blonde would somehow try to steal the spot from him.

"You said you'd sweep the world for me," you whispered, your voice cracking as the full reality of the present situation finally caught up to you.

A crushing realisation bloomed internally, tearing through your chest. How could you say that to him now? How could you bring up that beautiful, protective promise after everything you had done? You had used him to try and escape your thoughts of Zenitsu.

You had shared a night where you were each other's very first, and when he finally gathered the courage to confess his love to you, you had coldly branded it a mistake. You had told him to forget it all, to pretend it never happened.

And now, it was simply too late. Bringing up that promise was nothing short of psychological torture.

Inosuke’s reaction was immediate, and it was devastating to watch. The boy who used to loudly challenge the world, who used to headbutt his problems and laugh in the face of danger, looked entirely broken.

He didn't yell. He didn't scoff. Instead, he let out a shaky, shuddering breath that sounded like he was physically choking on his own heart. His green eyes shut tight for a long, heavy moment, his long eyelashes casting dark shadows over his cheekbones. When he opened them, the raw, unfiltered sorrow swimming in those green depths was almost too much to look at.

"Why are you doing this to me, Boss Lady?"

Inosuke asked, his voice incredibly small, cracking in a way you had never heard before. He gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned completely white, his whole frame trembling under the weight of his unrequited love.

"You told me to forget. You told me it was a mistake. I'm trying... I am trying so hard to stay in my lane and just be the friend you said you needed."

A single, silent tear finally spilt over his lashes, tracking down his cheek, but he didn't even bother to wipe it away.

"Don't say things like that to me now," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, completely filled with defeat. "Don't talk about us at 30. Not when you've already made me erase everything we were supposed to be."

The silence in the library was absolute. Inosuke was sitting right in front of you, bleeding out emotionally from a wound you had inflicted, completely unaware that the future you had joked about was already being choked out by the unread text messages sitting on your phone.

Inosuke didn’t wait for you to reply. With a rough, sudden movement, he scraped his chair back across the library floor. The harsh noise drew sharp looks from a few students nearby, but he didn't care. He snatched the Alice sketch from the table, crumpled it carelessly into his jacket pocket, and walked away without looking back.

You sat frozen for a fraction of a second. The look of complete defeat on his face burnt into your mind. Then, panic spiked through your chest.

I’m not gonna let you go again.

You pushed your chair back, grabbed your bag, and hurried after him. Your heart was pounding against your ribs as you followed him out of the silent library, down the concrete steps of the university building, and out into the afternoon air. He was walking fast, his long, heavy strides carrying him far ahead of you, his broad shoulders tightly hunched beneath his jacket.

"Inosuke! Please, wait!" you called out, your voice strained and breathless.

He didn't stop.

He didn't even turn his head.

He just kept walking, moving past the campus gates and heading toward the old path that led away from the university premises. You knew exactly where he was going. Your legs moved on instinct, keeping pace, trailing him through the familiar dirt path lined with overgrown weeds until the sound of rushing water began to fill the air.

The riverbank.

It was the exact same secluded spot where the three of you used to play when you were kids, back when life was measured in caught bugs and muddy shoes. Now, the grassy bank felt small, shadowed, and heavy with memories. Inosuke finally stopped near the water's edge, his back to you, staring down at the churning river.

You closed the distance between you, the damp grass crunching beneath your shoes. Before he could turn around, before he could push you away with his words again, you stepped up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You pressed your face firmly against his back, holding onto his jacket like a lifeline.

Inosuke went completely rigid in your embrace. He didn't pull away, but he didn't relax either, his breath hitching sharply.

"Please," you sobbed, the desperation finally breaking through your composure as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Please don't go, Inosuke. Don't leave me behind. Just stay... please."

You were pleading with him, your voice small and broken against the rush of the river.

As you clung to him, a wave of profound confusion washed over you. You didn't understand why you were doing this. It didn't make any sense. You already had Zenitsu. You had surrendered to him already and even let him continuously keep the spare key, choosing to stay by his side.

You won, right? You were the one he came running to when the lights went out. You were the one he held in the dark.

So why did it feel like you were dying inside? Why were you yearning for Inosuke so intensely right now? You didn't get it. Your mind was a tangled, hypocritical mess, but as you tightened your grip around Inosuke's waist, the only thing you knew for certain was that you couldn't let him go.

You couldn't bear the thought of him walking out of your life completely.

"Maybe... maybe I really want you to be my best friend," you confessed, your voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket, thick with unshed tears. "Because... I think you're the only person left in the world that I can actually trust."

Inosuke let out a long, shaky breath, his hands slowly coming up to rest over yours, though he didn't unclench your grip. "You have a funny way of showing trust, Boss Lady."

The raw honesty in his voice cut through your remaining defences. Looking at his broad back, a dangerous, terrifying thought began to take root in your mind. For the first time, you felt the overwhelming urge to tell him everything. To strip away the lies, to expose the ugly reality of what you and Zenitsu had been doing behind closed doors, and to tell him that the ghost you had been running from was his childhood friend.

You wanted to tell him the truth, because the weight of the secret was finally crushing you. Looking at the damage you had caused to the only person who had ever truly tried to protect you, a sudden, clear realisation hit you.

This couldn't go on. You couldn't keep living in the shadows, letting Zenitsu use you as a pit stop while you slowly bled out your own soul and destroyed the people who actually loved you. As you stood there by the riverbank, holding onto Inosuke, you found yourself thinking the one thought you had been too terrified to face until now.

I need to end this with Zenitsu.

Inosuke let out another long, heavy breath before he finally moved. He did not push you away roughly, but his large hands gripped your wrists, gently but firmly unwinding your arms from around his waist.

He turned around to face you.

He looked confused as heck, his dark brows knitted together in a deep furrow as his green eyes searched your tear-stained face. He was completely lost, utterly unable to understand why the girl who had branded him a mistake and ordered him to forget everything was now clinging to him on a riverbank, sobbing and begging him to stay.

The sheer emotional whiplash was staggering, and you could see the profound hurt radiating from him. Yet, beneath all the pain and the confusion, the raw, unyielding love he held for you was still written entirely across his features. He could not hide it, even if he tried.

"Boss Lady," he muttered, his voice rough and completely bewildered. "What are you doing? You are the one who told me to stay away. You are the one who said—"

"I know," you interrupted, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate, choked gasp.

You looked up at him, and as the tears blurred your vision, a terrifying thought sparked in your chest.

Wait, no.

What was this sudden weight in your heart? Was it just desperation? Were you just panicking because you were losing your closest friend, or were you actually being that selfish, trying to latch onto him because you needed comfort?

You questioned your own mind, terrified that you were just using him as a shield against your own guilt. You told yourself it was just the stress, just the fear of being left entirely alone.

But as you stared into his green eyes, the denial completely crumbled.

It was not just comfort. It was not just confusion. Looking at Inosuke now, seeing how deeply he was bleeding just to respect the cruel boundaries you had set, the reality crystallised beyond any doubt.

You had fallen in love with him.

Sometime during those long weeks when Zenitsu was shattering your spirit into millions of pieces, Inosuke had become the one holding you together, the one your heart actually felt safe with. You had been too dumb, too blinded by your own mess, to see it before, but you loved him now.

Truly and completely.

But you could not just say that. You could not just throw your heavy, tangled feelings at him after everything. If you told him you needed him to fix you or begged him to stay just to ease your conscience, it would make him feel used all over again. He would think he was just another distraction from your ghosts.

You could not do that to him. Not again.

The thought of Zenitsu, the thought of finally ending the secretive situation that was tearing your soul apart, rose in your chest. You could not live in the dark anymore. You were drowning. You were literally drowning in the sin, the shame, and the crushing guilt of what you had become.

But the terrifying truth was you did not even know how to swim to the surface. You did not know what kept you so desperately attached to Zenitsu for so long.

Deep down, you knew a massive part of it was because you were hurt for him, because you watched Nezuko hurt him, watched her ghost him and treat him like an afterthought, and your bleeding heart had wanted nothing more than to heal the wounds she left behind.

You had taken all his pain and made it your own, binding yourself to him in a twisted, self-destructive knot that you did not know how to untie.

But looking at Inosuke, you knew you had to untie it.

For him. For yourself.

You reached out, your trembling fingers gripping the front of Inosuke's jacket, anchoring yourself to the only solid, honest thing left in your life. You did not ask him to save you, and you did not ask him to fix things. You just held on, letting your forehead rest against his chest as you silently resolved to end the darkness with Zenitsu once and for all.

Inosuke froze, his chest heaving as he felt the sheer weight of your silent breakdown. He still did not have the full context. He still did not know the ugly details of the secret you were carrying, but seeing you look so completely broken and defeated was more than he could bear.

His confusion faded, overridden entirely by his instinct to protect you. Slowly, hesitantly, his broad arms came up and wrapped securely around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him as the river rushed on beside you.

“What is happening to you… really, Y/N?”

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…

𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓪 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽!

OMG! Here we goooo!

Actually guys, I am planning to extend this a bit. From supposed 20 chapters to 22 or 25, so that it won't all be like too long and too rushed. But hmmm I will think about it! You will see it on the STORY INDEX if ever there will be changes OwO.

I do apologise again for the long wait per chapter and for my inconsistency on postings. Please doooo understand I am so busy irl T___T I love you alllll!!

See you in the next chapter!

Don’t be shy to comment, reblog, and heart!

Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ? Bᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏғғᴇᴇ~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Questions and boundaries

1.Can I ship any characters?: Boyo, go crazy! As long you’re safe and respectful, then set sail.

2. Are any of the characters (besides Pomni) human?: All the characters are ai, even the main cast from the series. But headcannon away cause if it keeps you guessing, then it’s alright.

3. Can I make nsfw art?: YES! Please send them to me by @ me. Please be careful and respectful and don’t go too far in the phalic side. Stay safe ;3

4. May I make fanart/fics/collabs/animations/ect?: I think you can answer that :D

5. Why is a raven like a writing desk?: I haven’t the slightest idea!

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Comics: in a episodic order

Through the looking screen

She forgot how food works

The garden of gloinks

Taking advice from a Mix-a-pillar

Taking directions from a rabbit pt1. Pt2.

Mustard?

Comedy and tragedy

NOTHING? WHATEVER?

Bound in madness Tim burton

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Doodles

the first digital wonderland content

Kinger as the dodo and Pomni

Can you stand on your head?

zooble and kaufmo doodle

Spark of inspiration for gangle

sun and moon doodledum

of stones and stars!

does C&A mean Gay?

poster in progress say hi to Dave for me ;3

oysters in progress?

The red head got people red ;D

The red means they’re in love

Crossover? In wonderland?

SHE DID WHAT?!

Queenie and Kinger’s old designs

The rabbit has stolen a bow tie

A book page bio

old bio design

older bio design

Showtime

Pomni borger

Loolilau as the duchess

Zombni and Wonderland Pomni are besties @etanow

Abstract Bandersnatch?

Ragatha’s background?

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Paintings

Fallen down the Digital rabbit hole

Official poster: outdated

We’ll meet in the palace of dreams

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EXPLORE WONDERLAND!

But since he abstracted... He is stuck on a body full of circles... Hence... The eyes 😭😭

POOR BABY. HUHU. I was drawing him and realised it (since I also have that phobia.) THE EYES HUHU.

THIS IS A SNIPPET OF MY ART huhu. CIRCLESSSSSSSSSSSSS.