synopsis: it was never kusakabe's intention to be the person who will present the news to you, his colleague's wife or the newly widow, rather he would want to be the last person to share the burden to you. on the contrary to his thoughts, he still carried the grief and guilt, obliged any necessary means to look after you. and truthfully, he should be the last person to love you
contains: sfw, angst with fluff, implied smut in the end (haha... unless a seperate smut fic?), you are Nanami's widow, Sayaka is Kusakabe's sister in this fic, reader uses she/her pronouns
word count: 8.7k
There wasnât any better candidate to present the news to his dead colleagueâs wife. Kusakabe Atsuya felt obligated to come along with Ino Takuma to present the news to you. He had known to be numb to the brutality of jujutsu reality, lived through his job on the daily, honing the bare minimum while being nothing extraordinary as the others. Aside from having to risk his own life on the line, being the bearer of bad news was the worst thing that came along. He had grown used to it, however, he preferred being the last person to present the news.
Kusakabe knew how to carry grief well, he had lived through it when his younger sister Sayaka lost her husband then her son Takeru afterwards.Â
It was why he would be by Inoâs side when Ino couldnât process his own grief when he realised his senior was long gone from the world. The moment they arrived at your doorstep as Ino sat by the passengerâs seat, glancing by the window to see what should have remained to be Nanami Kentoâs home, having to face you confronted Ino that he wasnât the strong sorcerer he wanted to be. It was why Kusakabe was here by your doorstep in the first place alone.Â
Perhaps he could carry grief too well because he carried a lot of guilt instead, more than what other people may realise. More than he would admit to himself.
When Kusakabe presented the news to you, the fabric on hand and bitter condolences slipped from his lips, the feeling crept into his spine. He had watched your face churned when he arrived by your door, he could sense your heart shattering when he called your name gently as he took out the fabric from his pocket.Â
âIâm sorry for your loss. Kento was a good man, a good co-worker, a good teacher and he remains honourable until his death.â
After you took the familiar golden cow print tie, you wept heavily by the doorstep and held onto the doorframe to keep yourself up. He was hesitant to even touch you, not because he could not empathise with you, rather he did further than he realised. So, he held your arm steadily as you sobbed. Firm in his grip, he may have been stoic in emotion but his warm touch secured you on earth. When your grief was too much to handle for him, his head peeked at Ino, urging the young lad to come out from the car and comfort you, to which Ino finally did.
Though Kusakabe could not provide the words of comfort you may have needed, in the way his hand firmly grabbed your arm, he had given you the strength to survive.Â
âItâs never easy but I got you.â
He was not one who simply could share the weight of guilt and grief on his shoulders. If he could, he would like to shrug it off. Yet his actions did speak louder than he would like, hence he kept them as a secret.
After Nanamiâs passing, he checked on you rarely since Ino would generally visit you from time to time; only coming by to help you sort out the paperwork whenever you needed it, when it became overbearing to handle. He would handle whatever Nanami had left behind in the school, settled his overtime pay, supported the funeral and prayer arrangements when needed, but he kept himself distant from you. Sometimes, requesting Ino to deliver the settled paperwork in his stead. Even then, there was an anonymous hefty donation sent to you days after the wake, a clean swept grave with a pair of burnt incense sticks along packaged bakery bread left by Nanamiâs grave on multiple occasions. He never wanted anyone to know that it was his generosity that silently lingered. A man beloved by many, Kusakabe thought he could stay in the background like he had grown used to.Â
Not until you caught him after eight months since the funeral, he stood by the grave while he reflected on his cowardly life; still immensely grateful that he lived but he wondered how Nanami could have been saved.
âI was wondering who else kept coming by to see KentoâŚâ
He felt embarrassed until he laid his eyes on you, surviving and your eyes were hollow, you were weathered since that day. Almost similar to Sayakaâs and that strung his chest. You meekly smiled at him with slightly brighter eyes than his sister, it was enough to ease him.
âPlease donât leave yet, Kusakabe-san.â
This shouldnât be out of the ordinary, Kusakabe has visited all of his colleaguesâ graves. He hadnât been sure why he felt the shame when you caught him by Nanamiâs grave. After you made your prayers and offerings, you both sat on a bench shaded by the oak tree, coincidentally facing the grave.
âKento doesnât have any siblings, and his parents canât visit him often.â You shared, gazing at the golden emblems on stone, still surreal by your late husbandâs death. âItâs nice to know there are still people who come to him now.â
Kusakabe stayed silent, sucking in the situation as he let out a deep exhale, thinking deeply of the blonde man. He took out a lollipop from his pocket, fiddling it around, âPeople look up to him, I still do and it scares me because I have to remember he was younger than me too.â
God, he wished he didnât quit smoking, it would be easier to stall himself in this situation. âHas Ino-kun been looking after you?â
âHe does at times, but I want him to focus on his life. I canât have him hover me all the time anyways. Heâs not far much younger than me but he has a lot to live for.â He grimaced at you, stayed painfully silent when he heard you say that, ironic but gutwrenching.
It was a warm late afternoon, bright with a breeze that carried the mountains and trees, the kind that Nanami would have loved, if they werenât in a cemetery of all places. You continued, âI love Kento more deeply than I thought I realised now, and I loved him every second when he was alive.âÂ
âHe was my first love, my first experience, not my first kiss but he made me forget anything that was before him. He was the man I chose to live with for the rest of my life and⌠we thought about having kids too and he would have lovedââ Reminiscing what could have been was easy but you wanted to avoid the truth that laid in front of your eyes. The future possibilities you made with Nanami, all of it became hurtful fantasies.
Your nails were digging into your skin, the clenched sensation within your chest grew deeper. âI-I still donât know how to live on when I wake up with nothing by my side, I canât face it every single day in my life thinking of what our future would have been. A part of me wants to driftâ drift back to the station and justâ I justâ canâtââ
A flash memory of Takeru came to Kusakabe. Remembering his naughty nephew who would run around his apartment because Kusakabe was chasing after his stolen trousers.
And Sayaka, his bright, cheerful sister who one laughed so loud that it echoed the walls.Â
Transitioning it back to the melancholic, immobile state she was in after losing Takeru. A living husk. All while Kusakabe had lost his beloved nephew and helplessly watched his living sister deteriorate.
The thought of you, Nanamiâs beloved wife, as an empty shell; he couldnât allow it to happen, Nanami wouldnât want it either.
A rough hand held onto your arm, that same grasp you felt that day Kusakabe announced the news to you, grounding you back to where you were now. âYouâ You donât have to live without him anymore. Carry him and face the world with every memory of him.â
âLive onwards with him from what he gave to you, he left with his love in you so you have to love that part of him, cherish it even. If youâre going to drift away, then youâre also leaving what he left for you. Heâs left his memory with me, Ino, his students and everyone else.â The same hand ruffled your head, almost frustrated at you as he tussled your hair but you glanced at the softness behind his hard face. He passed his lollipop to you, you noticed it was pineapple flavoured.
âSo stay in this world and love every piece of him, the ones you and I carry of him. Just⌠stay.â
Kusakabe offered to drive you back home, to which you agreed even though he clearly wouldnât be at ease if you had refused. It was a commute to return back to your home. He hoped he gave you the encouragement to live on, even when you tried to survive with what you have.
As long as you kept moving forward, he would have been happy watching you in his lane.
Maybe it was fate that played between the two of you or some evil cursed spirit in the sky that pushed Kusakabe, but you start to reach each other more often â more than what Kusakabe would like along with more guilt that crawled into him. By cruel fate, he has failed to avoid you every time. And he found himself not being able to refuse you at all.
It started when it was Nanamiâs one year death anniversary and you wanted to invite everyone Nanami knew for prayers, and you called Kusakabe first to help in the planning. Anxious, overwhelmed to arrange the event from dialling numbers, to organise the itinerary of the day, catering for guests, on top of the grief that lingered for your husband, Kusakabe never failed to take the lead. He made it so easy to take action and supported you, all for your sake. You reached out to him afterall, of course he would help you even with grumbles under his breath, not letting you stress over from organising the event.
Next, it was at the supermarket and in fact, he spotted you in the produce aisle while he was grocery shopping for the weekly meal shop for him and Sayaka. The only store that had everything Sayaka needed and you happened to be there. He tried his very best to not face you and maintained the respectable space for you as your dead husbandâs colleague. It just was not appropriate for him to approach you at all, he has the utmost respect for Nanami and especially for you. Hence, he casually made opposite turns every time he saw you browsing at a distance.
It all got twisted when he turned to the corner aisle and forcibly faced you.
Small talk here and there, he found himself driving you back home since your home was further away from the store. Albeit, you told him you were fine on your own. You genuinely could sense the dread behind his awkward smile when he insisted, he said that it was not like he could not spare fifteen minutes of his time to drive you back home. It sounded as if he was mostly convincing himself that this was not a big deal, and you knew this was an act of compensation for your loss.
Then he noticed your home did need some manpower when he came by.Â
Your broken leaking faucet outside your home he saw? He has got you covered, fixed it swiftly. He told you to inform him or Ino for any fixes needed in the house. Even then, he came by another day to do a check around the house.
Your car broke down in the middle of the road? He left work as soon as possible to find you, even called roadside assistance for you.
The plumbing company wasnât being helpful for you? He could easily manage this task since he has done the plumbing in school.
He, in fact, was too handy. You came to realise that he may have appeared rough around the edges, pessimistic at times, but he was indeed kind, even more hardworking than he claimed as a slacker.
Quiet, reliable, and never complained about taking care of Sayaka or his responsibility as a teacher, the only thing he would groan about was having to be a grade one sorcerer. Not once had he ever shown an ounce of annoyance when it came to helping you, his dead colleagueâs wife. Hence in return, you cooked meals for him, went on the milestone to create dishes that Sayaka could digest or what her favourite meals were. During your free time, you would visit him and care for Sayaka. He tried denying your help when you came by his apartment, shared conversations with Sayaka and assisted in her rehabilitation.
âItâs the least I could do, Kusa. As compensation for helping me cope.â
And he did too. More than adoration.
The worst part was that he cannot further the distance at this stage. Not because he couldnât refuse you, rather he wanted to be at your reach, close to you. He never wanted what he desired. That desire of being with you accumulated, so did his guilt.
That distance became closer than he wished.
Nearly two years went by, you had the sudden pang of realisation that you were living without Nanami, that struck your heart harsher than it should one night as grief. You didnât reach out to Kusakabe this time, you thought you'd inconvenienced him enough with the baggage you carried.
Yet, he came to your home that night, out of instinct, all because you didnât answer your phone for the whole day. That night on the couch you sat and spilled your mourns while he existed by your side to hold you from drifting, your head laid comfortably on his shoulder as you slowly dozed off. After spending quiet moments often with him, you no longer feel restricted and you could completely breathe life once more.
Kusakabe Atsuya stood in front of Nanamiâs headstone with an incense between his fingers, lollipop in his mouth, mimicking his old smoking habit. The smoke burned down slowly while he stared at the carved name like it might punch him. He was too close to coming back to the habit after the turn of events in the past few years.
Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck, scowling. âYeah, yeah, I know. Donât start judging me with that face,â he muttered, flicking ash into the damp grass. He could imagine it too well, the silent assessment Nanami would make if he had seen the stick in Kusakabeâs hand while rambling to the grave often about work or general updates regarding you.
The wind tugged at the edges of his coat.
âKento, please rise from the fucking dead and kill me. I am begging you.â
The silence answered, as it always did. He laughed once, but there was no humor in it. Just air and the raw edges of emotions he was afraid to claim aloud.
âIâm in love with your wife. How fucking dare I? Like Iâm just some sleazy creep who's been preying on a vulnerable widow for years. Iâve tried to run away from her every time but clearlyââ His voice broke. He swallowed hard and tried again. âIâm not able to. I canât.â
The words hung between him and the stone: heavy, unforgiving.
He imagined what Nanami would say; a dry, measured response that made Kusakabe feel small but seen as a problem to be solved. That was the kind of man Nanami had beenâsteady, reliable, the sort of person people leaned on. The man you deserved to share your happiness with, a man that Kusakabe was not.
âSheâs amazing,â he continued, quieter, the admission scraping his throat raw. âShe is beautiful when she smiles and laughs, sheâs laughing more now too. She looks at me so graciously, and fuck, itâs no wonder you married her.â
He exhaled, the shudder in his breath from the shame he had for himself. âYou were supposed to be with her, you both had bigger dreams, a future you were supposed to build with her.â
The grass rustled, a bird called in the trees. Life was moving on, but the two men, dead and alive, couldnât. Kusakabe swallowed, âIâm just taking what should have been yours.â
He hated the way it made his chest ache, the way guilt coiled around his ribs like barbed wire.
âI love her, Kento.â His voice cracked, repeating his confession again as repentance. He looked away across the cemetery, where rows of stones marked lives and endings, the one that he stood in front of shouldn't have his end. âBut out of anyone, it shouldnât be me that should love her.â
He closed his eyes, every image of you implanted in his head as his wanted torment, âI donât want her to love me even if it makes me the happiest man ever, god it will make me burst.â
The confession tasted bitter under the coated sweetness on his tongue, for he did want to love you. He hated that he wanted the love youâve projected to him whenever you smiled at himâreally smiled, not the polite, distant expressions of a widow that carried immense sorrow. He hated that he held such a dangerous yearning for a future he had no right to. A future where they werenât two people bounded by loss, but where you reached beyond it, reaching for him.
He opened his eyes, hoping for a different outcome but the headstone remained unchanged.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered. Forgiving wasnât enough and the weight was heavier still.
The days after that visit to the grave changed something in Kusakabe.
There was no sudden declaration, no explosive realisation. Only a quiet shift like a door slowly closing your way into his home. Initially, it was small things. When you came by to visit his sister, Kusakabe would already be out on an errand. When you texted to ask if he needed groceries or Sayakaâs monthly prescription, his replies were polite but distant.
âNo need. Iâve got it handled.â
When you stopped by unexpectedly, Kusakabe would let you in and remain somewhere else in the apartment whether it was another room, another floor, or another excuse.
Kusakabe had never been particularly expressive but he had never avoided you either. Before, he would linger in the doorway when you visited. He would complain about his studentsâ incompetence, deranged sorcerers, or the absurdity of cursed spirits that came by at an inconvenient, unavoidable time. Sometimes he would stay long after his sister had gone to sleep, sitting by you in the living room with tea, where the two of you were talking about nothing and everything.
Now he barely looked at you. You noticed that he stopped coming by to you in your home.
Once, when you brought food for his sister, you heard him moving in the hallway. For a brief moment, you thought he would come back into the kitchen like he always did. Instead, his footsteps retreated.
Another time, he left the apartment entirely, informing you to leave after Sayaka falls asleep. That was when the suspicion started forming into something heavier in your chest. Avoidance wasnât Kusakabeâs style. He complained, he grumbled, he dragged his feet but he didnât hide nor speak to you of his own issues.
Weeks passed like that with polite distances, careful absences, conversations cut short.Â
Until one evening, you arrived earlier than usual as the apartment door opened before you could knock. Kusakabe stood there, keys in hand like he had been about to leave, both of you froze by the doorway.
His expression hardened immediately while he averted his gaze elsewhere.
â⌠Youâre early.â
Your eyes narrowed, arms crossed, âYouâre ignoring me. I know it.â
Kusakabeâs shoulders stiffened, but he didnât look surprised youâd said it. âI have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,â he replied flatly as he glanced back at you.
The words were blunt but his delivery was wrong. Quick, rehearsed, exhausted mentally, it was more evident that he was avoiding you for the last couple of weeks.
You stepped forward instead of backing away, âAtsuya, something is bothering you so donât lie to me.â
Hand gripping on the doorframe while the other shoved his keys into his pocket, he looked away from you. That alone was enough to confirm it. Kusakabe Atsuya was not the type to dodge eye contact. If he was irritated, he said it. If he was tired, he said it. If he didnât want you around, he wouldâve told you weeks ago. Yet now his gaze had shifted to the side, jaw tightening, clenching on the lollipop stick.
âIâm not. Sayaka is asleep now, you should leave.â
Kusakabe exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair like the situation itself was a headache.
âYouâre making this harder than it needs to be.â
âThen tell me what this is.â
His fingers squeezed around his keys in the pocket, letting it dig into his skin harder and harder to hold himself back from his truth. For a moment, you thought he might snap back with one of his usual sarcastic deflections, where he would dismiss and brush everything that occurred with valid reasons. Instead, he just stood there with no words to offer, only exhaustion in his eyes flickered into deep and heavier thoughts, ones he clearly didnât want you to see.
His expression grew serious as he had reached a decision in mind. He called your name sternly.
âDonât come by anymore,â he said quietly.
The words landed like a stone dropped in still water, a finality that was cutthroat and refused for any other option to be considered or heard. The words landed heavier and you blankly stared at him, the sentence hadnât fully formed in your mind yet, awaiting for it to be rearranged into coherent sense if you gave it a second longer. The hallway felt smaller suddenly as the air grew thicker. Your shoulders shrunk, your hands loosened to the sides as his words registered.
All those quiet moments flashed through your mind without permission; the evenings in his kitchen, the endless chores and school work heâd complain about but still finish in the shared space, the way heâd grumble when you insisted on helping his sister with things he claimed he could do himself. And the rare, fleeting cheeky smiles he tried to hide behind his hand. The way your homes had slowly stopped feeling like a place tied only to handling the anguish, where Kusakabe became a space where you had begun to heal. Nanami still held the piece of your heart and it always would be, his memory sat in your chest as a permanent scar but there had been room again for warmth, laughter, and the man in front of you.
Your eyes sharply gaped at him again, inspecting closer. His posture was rigid, bracing himself for your reaction but your voice came out smaller than you intended.
âKusa, have I done something?â
Your fingers curled slightly at your sides, trying to stop their trembling and failing. The anger was there, sharp and rising but it tangled with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.
All that happened building up to where it had gone didnât make sense.Â
Not after the way heâd been there through your worst days consistently. The quiet mornings when you couldnât even speak Nanamiâs name without breaking, the nights when grief hit you out of nowhere and Kusakabe had just sat nearby, complaining about work like normal life still existed, listening to you, remaining by you even when you felt stuck. Heâd been careful with you, gentle in the way only someone rough around the edges could be.
Somewhere along the way, you had started looking forward to seeing him, looking for him, even in the grief and guilt you faced when you loved a dead man.
âI thoughtâŚâ You stopped, swallowing hard. The rest of the sentence refused to come out.
Your chest tightened, anger finally pushing its way to the surface through the cracks of hurt. âYou canât just shut me out like this,â you said, shaking your head. âYou donât get to decide that on your own, not give me a proper answer and tell me to leave. What have I done to you?â
Your eyes searched his face desperately for an answer.
âAtsuya, talk to me.â
For a split second something flickered across his faceâpain, raw and unguarded, it vanished behind the familiar wall of irritation he wore like armor. He instantly noticed the small crack of your voice. Kusakabe had spent a long time watching you carefully in these years, down to the smallest shift in tension. He knew how your pain had projected, now it was standing in his doorway looking at him like heâd just torn something apart.
For a moment, he almost answered you honestly. Admit to you how much you tore him apart, body and soul, confessed to you how much he had fallen for you and mesmerised by you, the overwhelming joy that he had when Sayaka could speak to another person who wasnât him or a cursed doll.
Instead, he clicked his tongue under his breath and turned his head away, dragging a hand down his face as if the whole situation was just another annoying problem dumped on his plate.
âNo,â he muttered, rough. âYou didnât do anything wrong at all.â
That was the problem; you hadnât done anything wrong because you had been kind, patient, gentle in ways Kusakabe didnât think he deserved. Every time you smiled at him, something inside his chest twisted tighter. Every time you showed up with groceries and cooked Sayakaâs favourite warm meals, or sat at the table talking about your day, or laughed at one of his half-hearted complaints. He forgot, just for a second, that none of this should exist.
You werenât supposed to be part of his life like this.
You had once belonged to someone better.
Someone whoâs bare remains buried under cold stone.
âYou have to stop coming here,â he repeated, more firmly this time as he clenched the keys in his hand harder. âYouâve done more than enough for me and Sayaka already.â
âIâll handle things from here.â
Heâd stood in his apartment nights before thinking about this conversation, imagining every possible way it could go wrong if he was confronted by you. Every possible way you could look at him like you were looking now. Facing you in the moment, the hurt, confusion, the shattered eyes; he was truthfully crumbling inside.
Your voice rose, frustration breaking through the cracks in your composure, âThatâs not the point!â
âItâs easier this way.â
âEasier?â you echoed, trembled. âEasier for what?â
He didnât answer as the truth sat right behind his teeth, clawing its way up his throat. Love and guilt he harboured since you appeared in his life often. He scoffed quietly and shoved his hands into his pockets.
âLook,â he said gruffly, forcing his voice back into that familiar irritated tone. âYouâve got your own life, you are still young. You shouldnât be wasting time babysitting a grumpy sorcerer in his mid-thirties and his sister, you donât have to be here anymore.â
Your expression hardened, âThatâs not what this is, Iâm not here because I am some voluntary caretaker.â
âIsn't that what youâve been doing?â
âNo, what are you even talking about?!â The answer came fiercely and certain. Your eyes searched his face again, desperate for something real behind the wall he kept throwing up that was avoiding the truth.
âWe were friends,â you said quietly.
More than that, the unspoken words hung in the air between you, wide eyes burning with clashing emotions that demanded answers. You had to tear your eyes away, biting your lip to compose yourself.
âWhen you told me that Kento died during the Shibuya incidentâŚâ His shoulders locked so tightly that it was painful from holding the weight of that memory. Your voice softened around it, a ghost that was still fragile to you, âI thought that was it for me, I wanted it to end.â
Kusakabeâs gaze dropped to the floor as he recalled that version of you who mourned endlessly. The quiet way you had spoken during those early days, the hollow look in your eyes like you were moving through life several seconds too late. The way people tiptoed around you from the contagious grief that shackled you.
âI thought the rest of my life would just be surviving. Pretending I was okay so people would stop worrying, all so that I could eventually disappear.â
Kusakabeâs jaw tightened as he peered at you, then your gaze lifted to him again.
âBut then you kept showing up, even though you didn't have to.â
You laughed weakly, shaking your head, âYou complained the entire time, speaking out loud how much you hate your job. God, youâre the most unpleasant man I know.â
âAnd somehow,â you continued, your voice trembling now, âI started feeling like I was healing.â
Kusakabe swallowed as a light flickered on his face, slightly while suppressing it within himself.
âAnd then I was healing.â Your eyes locked onto his as the silence fell over the empty hallway again but full of everything of the clear unspoken words. Your hands were quivering, whispering, âDo you know how terrifying that was? Because it meant life was still moving, without him.â
Your breath hitched slightly, âIt meant I could smile again and laugh. It meant I could love again even with Kento in my heart. I could start loving people again.â
That word landed like a blow to the chest, his breath stalled and you kept staring at him directly, âAnd in all of that, you were there.â
The implication hung there, undeniable, and that sharply twisted in his ribs.Â
He let out a quiet breath through his nose, as if the memories itself irritated him since he hadnât planned any of that nor intended to become part of your life. It began as a responsibility to Nanami who had been his close colleague, caring after the people he left behind had felt necessary to him and it was supposed to be temporary. Somewhere along the way, it had become a routine where it had turned into familiarity.
And familiarity had become something far more dangerous.
If anything, to him, the worst thing about this was the fact he could not regret being a part of your life, be the person who made you smile. He was ashamed of himself that he could not regret it at all.
âYou shouldnât say things like that,â he muttered. The words came out rough, not angry however, almost strained at the suggestion of an actual reality that he could have.
Your brows furrowed, âWhy not?â
âBecause youâre talking like I saved you.â His gaze hardened slightly. âAnd I didnât.â
A beat passed. Then, he forced the words out, âYou were supposed to move forward, you have a lot to live now, you have so much to do with your life, just not with me.â
The words rang in your ears, hollow and cruel in a way Kusakabe had never been before. Your head shook immediately, the reaction instinctive.
âThatâs notâAtsuya, thatâs not what I want, thatâs not what Iâm saying. You donât get to decide that, Iââ
He took a step back, widening the space between you enough to make the distance feel deliberate.
âYouâre misunderstanding,â he muttered.
âThen explain it to me.â
He couldnât deliberate it any further since it meant saying his truth out loud. Instead, Kusakabe did the one thing he knew how to do when something mattered too much. He shut down as his expression flattened into something closed and distant.
âYou should go home, Iâm not giving you an option.â The finality in his voice was like a door slamming shut.
The tone was sharper now, cutting through the air before you could try again. Your hands clenched at your sides. You searched his face one last time, desperately hoping to find some crack in the wall heâd thrown up.
Something that said he didnât mean it.
Something that said stay.
He wouldnât even look at you anymore, not a glance. His gaze had dropped somewhere past your shoulder, hoping you were already gone. The realisation settled slowly and painfully in your chest, seeping into your eyes, he was rejecting you.
It was the only word you could manage without breaking. You turned before he could fully see your face crumble. Your footsteps down the hallway sounded far too loud and Kusakabe softly closed his apartment door, but the moment he shut it, his shoulders sagged as his heart had snapped and sunk.
âFuck,â he whispered, hand gripping on the door handle tighter as a small glimpse on your face imprinted in head, enough to create the destruction in him.
Kusakabe had almost got what he wanted since you stopped coming by, the apartment felt quieter than it used to, that Sayaka pointed it out too after a few weeks.
âYou havenât invited her over in a while,â she said quietly, one evening from the dinner table.
Glossing over the fact that Sayaka broke her usual silence to search for you, Kusakabe grunted from the kitchen, âSheâs busy.â
It was a lie so obvious it didnât even deserve a response.
The routine of work started feeling out of place. Somehow your absence had crept into places he hadnât expected; the empty chair at the kitchen table, the lack of groceries you used to bring without asking, a missing simmering pot of stew you would whip up for the household, the quiet moments where heâd normally hear your voice teasing him about something stupid. Everything crashed down into a routine filled with silence. It was foreign but Kusakabe felt it was necessary despite the ache he had in yearning for you. He believed he could move past this, piling paperwork, patrols and training sessions until Ino showed up in his office while Kusakabe slouched in his chair with a stack of reports to distract himself.
The younger sorcerer leaned against Kusakabeâs desk at Jujutsu High, arms crossed, expression unusually serious. âYouâre an idiot, you know that?â
Kusakabe didnât even look up from the paperwork in front of him, teeth toying the plastic stick between his lips, âGood afternoon to you too.â
âWhat the hell did you do? Why did you stop seeing her?â
That nearly got a reaction from Kusakabe. His eyes glued onto the paperwork as he paused momentarily, âWho told you that?â
âShe looked like hell when I visited her a few days ago and she froze when I asked her about you,â Ino straightened slightly, frowning.
The plastic snapped in Kusakabe's mouth, he took it out and stared at it for a second before tossing it in the bin. âSheâll be fine.â
âNo, she wonât and Iâm telling you that she wonât because sheâs been down in the dumps.â
Kusakabe finally looked up, glared daggers at the young sorcerer, âYou done?â
Silence hung in the office, Kusakabe leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, already exhausted by where this conversation was clearly heading.
âYou shouldnât be sticking your nose into other peopleâs business, kid.â
âBut you stopped seeing her.â
âThatâs none of your concern, youâre supposed to check on her if sheâs doing fine.â
âIt is my job to tell you, especially when both of you look miserable.â
Kusakabe gave a dry laugh, âLifeâs miserable, get used to it.â
âThatâs not the same thing.â
Kusakabe waved a hand dismissively, reaching for a pencil to annotate his paperwork, âYouâre being dramatic Ino, you need to leave now. Iâm busy.â
Ino observed him carefully, unsatisfied by his reaction as he muttered, âI am not leaving because itâs so clear that you love her.â
The pencil lead cracked in Kusakabeâs grip as soon as it touched the paper, the room grew very still as Kusakabe groaned at the supposed flimsy pencils.
âWatch your mouth before you make your claims,â Kusakabe muttered.
âAnd she clearly loves you,â Ino argued back.
âEnough with the nonsense.â
Kusakabe shoved his chair back and stood abruptly. The legs scraped loudly across the floor, standing tall to the young sorcerer, scowling at Ino but Ino levelled his intimidation.
Ino continued before he could shut the conversation down again, âYou stopped seeing her because you think itâs wrong, isnât it? Is it because of Nanami?â
That name cut through the room like a blade, Kusakabe turned sharply. His jaw worked like he was grinding something bitter between his teeth, the words finally slipped out, rough and raw.
âShe is his wife, Ino.â
His voice wasnât loud but he carried the weight of a dead man that heâd been choking down for years. Kusakabe continued, âWe worked together for years. And now what? I just step into his life like nothing happened?â
Kusakabe dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement as he sighed.
âYou really think Nanami would hate you for loving someone he loved too? She was dying after he was gone and between you and I, we both know who mostly helped her live on again.â Inoâs voice softened, frowning at the absurdity of it. If Nanami saw the state he left you in after his death, he would have done anything to keep you living. He would have been immensely grateful for Kusakabe who had made you smile and kept you going after these years. âYou didnât steal anything from him.â
A long pause stretched between them as Ino sighed in exasperation, âBut you are hurting her now, sheâs not happier these days, Kusakabe.â
That landed harder than anything else, Kusakabeâs shoulders sank slightly as he replayed the flash memory of you by his door, it wrecked him.
âYou have to see her, Kusakabe-san,â Ino said.
Kusakabe looked away again.
âI told her to stay away, sheâs not gonna want to see me.â
Ino shook his head, turning his way to the sliding door as he paused by the entrance, his back facing Kusakabe. âYouâre a grown man. If you still want to run away, fine but donât pretend youâre doing it for her.â
The door clicked shut behind him and Kusakabe stood there after Ino left, processing and contemplating as the office became strangely empty. He stared at the clock hanging by the wall, the time reached after school hours.Â
Eventually he grabbed his keys and coat, swiftly bolted his way out.
By the time Kusakabe left Jujutsu High the sun was already dipping toward the horizon, driving his way somewhere else that diverted his way to his home before he could overthrow the idea or prevent himself from stopping his way. The familiar streets passed by in a blur until he reached your building, stopping across the same street to your house. He stood there staring up at the windows, his chest felt tight as he unwrapped the lollipop to ease his nerves. By the time he reached your door his hand hovered in the air for several seconds before finally knocking.
The knock came late enough in the evening that you almost ignored it since you werenât expecting anyone for the night. You were growing used to the heavy, unmoving quiet that settled into the corners of your home after sunset. The kind that made you replay old memories unconsciously and unwarranted, at least you were surviving and moving past it.
When the knock came again firmer, you hesitated before walking to the door, your hand rested on the handle as you contemplated if this was worth the human interaction.
Albeit, you opened it and your breath left your lungs as your eyes widened as Kusakabe stood there, intense and ruminative.
He was much worse than you remembered. Tired that ran deeper than lack of sleep, his tie loosened, coat half-buttoned like heâd put it on without thinking, his hair was slightly disheveled from the wind outside.
For a few seconds neither of you spoke, your chest tightened painfully.
âAtsuya.â Your voice was careful when you called him.
That was all it took for the tension in his shoulders to spike again, your voice was gentle that he hadnât registered that he was yearning to hear you and see you. He glanced past you briefly into your home before looking back at you, confirming you were alone, that he hadnât interrupted anything. He pant out an audible breath as he rubbed the back of his neck.
âCan I talk to you for a minute?â
You didnât answer right away because the last time youâd stood in a doorway with him, he had told you to leave, told you not to come back. Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the door, eyes peering to the side aggrievedly.
âI thought you said I shouldnât see you anymore.â
Kusakabe slightly flinched, his gaze dropped to the floor but he was not too startled from your reaction since he was expecting.
âYeah,â he muttered. âI did say that.â
Silence stretched between you, he exhaled slowly to brace himself. âI also said a lot of stupid shit.â
That got your attention as your eyes rolled to him, Kusakabe lifted his head again, meeting your eyes properly this time. There was no temper in his expression, neither deflection; only him and his confession to you, his raw honesty that looked almost uncomfortable on him.
âI owe you an explanation.â
He didnât step inside, he stayed right there in the doorway similar as you did last time when you were at his apartment, only he didnât deserve to cross the threshold since.
âYou know I visit Nanamiâs grave sometimes, I went there a couple weeks before you came to the apartment that day,â he said aloud.
Your brows knitted slightly, waiting patiently for Kusakabe as he let out a humorless breath.
âI stood there whining for half an hour trying to figure out how to say it out loud.â
âThat Iâm in love with his wife.âÂ
The words landed heavily between you as your heart skipped steadily, you felt your shoulders loosened before Kusakabe cracked a short, bitter laugh to ease the quiet.Â
âReal classy, right?â
He continued before you could respond back to him. âI kept thinking maybe if I said it enough times it would start sounding wrong enough that Iâd stop feeling it.â
âSo I did the next best thing,â he said. âI ran.â
His eyes returned to yours. âThatâs why I stopped seeing you. I thought if I stayed away long enough, it would go away.â
You felt your heart rate raise before you braced yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly against the door, the small movement of the gap between your lips while you processed his words. The rumpled, constantly aggravated expression you had known him for, became too delicate.
âI kept my distance because every time I was around you, I forgot I wasnât supposed to want this.â His voice dropped lower, releasing another breath. âYouâd smile at me and suddenly the whole thing felt normal, that scared the hell out of me.â
Your voice came out barely above a whisper.
Kusakabe glanced at you, knowing the answer should have been obvious. The honesty in it made your chest ache, you needed his answers to reveal his answers past his lips.
âHe was my friend,â Kusakabe continued. âA good one, one of the few people in this job I actually deeply respected.â
His hands flexed slightly at his sides, laying himself out to you bare and vulnerable of the years he had held himself back to. âAnd somehow I ended up falling in love with the person he loved most, like a piece of shit I was.â
Then he spoke more gently, âBut staying away from you felt worse, hurting you was the worst.â
Jaw tightened before his voice faltered into a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. âIt turns out Iâm a lot more selfish than Nanami ever was because I canât stay away from you anymore.â
Your heart stumbled in your chest. You stepped a little closer to the doorway without realizing.
âI love you, Iâve been in love with you for a long while,â he confessed aloud without any hesitation, sarcasm or grumbling. A reassurance to you, the truth he held back from the moment he fell for you after that fateful day in the cemetery.
âAnd I know that makes things complicated,â he continued quietly. âI know heâll always be part of your life. He should be.â
âBut if thereâs even a small part of you thatââ He cut himself with his shoulders sagged slightly. Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically uncertain. âActually, no. Thatâs not fair. I didnât come here to ask for anything, I just couldnât keep lying to you anymore.â
âThatâs the truth. Iâm stupidly, hopelessly in love with you,â he finished quietly. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
After laying out his disclosures, the hallway felt suspended in place. The world had paused to see what you would do with the confessions he had admitted between you while he prepared for impact. Shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes already anticipating rejection even though he had said he wasnât asking for anything.
âYou are stupid and you are the biggest prick, Kusa.â
You uttered, ensuring the words hit him like a slap, eyes squeezing shut for half a second as he let out a quiet sigh through his nose. He had already accepted the next outcome since it was well deserved after how he had been treating you for a few weeks, he was already preparing to have the door slammed to his face where you would yell at him to leave. He fully turned to you, finding that you were still there, not angry in the way he expected, still looking at him as if he was everything. You broke the silence before he could spiral any further.
âAfter so long I had loved Kento even until this day, I had been able to breathe once more for a time, for a year or two. It was all because of you.â
His brows pulled together slightly. That wasnât where he thought this was going.
Your voice trembled, but you didnât look away.
âIâve fallen for you, Atsuya.â
The world seemed to tilt, Kusakabe genuinely thought he had misheard you, his brain lagged behind the words like it was refusing to process them.
You continued anyway, âGod, youâre not the only one who feels guilty because I felt guilty falling in love again, like I was betraying Kento. For a while, I-I couldnât live without him.âÂ
You took a breath in, letting your words seep through as you added, âI still wake up, breathe, shop for groceries, remember how he took his coffee, then I forget that sometimes too. And that used to terrify me but I was able to live on. You kept me alive.â
Your eyes glistened, but your voice stayed steady. âI could never want anyone elseâit has to be you because you gave me every reason to smile, laugh, cry and love. I love you, Atsuya.â
Silence slammed down between you. Kusakabe stared at you like you had just spoken in another language. This was the exact future he had spent trying to prevent. And now you were standing right in front of him, offering it freely.
âYou really know how to make things complicated,â he retorted hoarsely, then stopped. His hand dragged down his face slowly. The line would have sounded like one of his usual complaints if his voice hadnât been shaking slightly.
You stepped closer enough that the space between you finally disappeared. Kusakabe examined you for any confirmation that you hadnât just said something out of grief or loneliness.
âDo you have any idea how much I tried to stop this?â he asked quietly.
You gave a weak, watery smile.
A short breath of laughter escaped him. Another silence passed, softer now and less tense.
You seemed to read that thought in his face. Your hand reached forward slowly, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat before resting against his arm.
âYou idiot, Iâm not replacing him,â you murmured softly. âIâm choosing you, learn the difference.â
The fragile hold within his chest finally gave way, he let out a long breath he didnât realize heâd been holding for weeks.
âKento would give me so much shit for this,â he muttered.
Your lips curved faintly, âI think heâd be relieved thereâs someone who is finally putting up with me and you.â
That actually made Kusakabe laugh quietly and rough. The tension that had lived in his shoulders for months loosened slightly. His other hand moved hesitantly as he wasnât fully sure he had the right to yet. His fingers closed gently around yours where they rested on his arm, holding you as if you were fragile.
âYouâre still stuck with a grumpy bastard,â he said quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles absentmindedly.
âBut if youâre really serious about this, I wonât push you away anymore,â Kusakabeâs voice softened in a way it rarely did.
âI love you, Atsuya. Donât run from me please,â a hand lightly brushed its way to his jaw, pulling him in as an invitation to him.
Kusakabeâs hands released and found your face, cupping it as if you were sacred all at once. His thumbs traced the line of your jaw, lingering there as if memorizing every curve. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled you closer until your foreheads brushed. The words you had just spoken unlocked something inside him as he planted a kiss on your lips. Deeply. Urgently.Â
As though he could pour every unspoken word into that one moment. Each tremble of his lips carried years of guilt, longing, and all the times he had failed to choose you above his shame. Each press of his mouth felt like he was trying to rewrite every moment where he had let fear win over his heart. When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, your breaths came in ragged bursts. His voice was low, broken, intimate.
âI shouldâve done that for all those nights I almost did.â
A shiver ran through you at his confession, at the honesty in it. His hands stayed on your face, holding you with reverence. Then he kissed you again; softer this time, tender, almost worshipful, reverent. Your skin tingled as goosebumps formed with each kiss, it had been long since you were last touched intimately.
You pressed your hands against his chest, pulling him inside before the door could even close. He obeyed instantly, letting the door click shut behind him where the world outside disappeared. The air between you was thick with want and relief, tension melting into need. Clothes became casualties in your orbit, falling like petals to the floor. His coat, your blouse, and each discarded garment shed every fear, restraint, along the years of hesitation. Your fingers trembled from nerves and the lack of intimacy, but also the overpowering raw, desperate desires to feel his skin against yours, to finally exist together without tiptoeing.
Kusakabeâs hands roamed to every part of your skin that he refused to leave untouched, memorising your sacred body heat in his arms, softly talking through you despite his body language speaking to you in ways you whimpered aloud.
In that room, with clothes scattered to reveal confessions on the floor, the space between you disappeared. Only the heat, breath, and the undeniable truths finally were allowed to burn bright.
a/n: kusakabe atsuya love plsssss, this type of story has been lingering in my mind lately and to me, it just fits the angst when it's kusakabe who would look after you. i just lurveee this underrated silly old man
