Angi ☾

Idia Shroud x Reader Imagine

Ortho noticed long before Idia did.

It wasn't anything obvious.

Idia still spent all day in his room.

Still complained about social interaction.

Still called himself "background NPC material."

But...

Whenever Y/N's name came up...

He smiled.

Just a little.

Almost too small for anyone else to notice.

Except Ortho.

One afternoon, Ortho floated into Idia's room.

"Nii-San?"

"Hm?"

"You like Y/N."

Silence.

"..."

"..."

"...LMAO."

Idia didn't even look away from his monitor.

"No."

"You do."

"I literally don't."

"You smiled."

"I smile all the time."

"You've smiled three times this month."

"...Traitor."

Ortho giggled.

"You also brushed your hair before they came over yesterday."

"..."

"You cleaned your room."

"..."

"And you changed your hoodie because you said the first one 'looked kind of lame.'"

Idia slowly lowered his headset.

"...You've been spying on me."

"I live here."

"...Fair."

Ortho floated closer.

"So... you like them."

Idia stared at the floor.

"...No."

"..."

"I just..."

He sighed.

"I don't know."

"It's weird."

"When they text me, I answer immediately."

"When they laugh at my dumb jokes..."

"I keep thinking about it for hours."

"And when they're around..."

He covered his face with his sleeves.

"...I don't feel like hiding."

The room became quiet.

"...That's not normal, is it?"

Ortho smiled softly.

"No."

"...Oh."

Another long silence.

Then Idia laughed.

A nervous, embarrassed little laugh.

"...That's... kinda doomed."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"I mean..."

He looked away.

"Who would want to date some awkward shut-in who spends eighteen hours a day gaming, panics when someone makes eye contact, and has negative charisma?"

Ortho didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he smiled the way only little brothers can.

"Someone who sees you the way I do."

Idia blinked.

"Ortho..."

"They don't smile because you're cool."

"They smile because you're you."

For the first time that day...

Idia didn't know what to say.

And somehow...

That gave Ortho all the answer he needed.

"What's this?"

You pull a dusty box from the back of one of Idia's shelves.

"...Huh?"

He glances over from his computer.

Then his eyes widen.

"...No way."

You brush the dust off.

Inside is a small, worn handheld console.

The corners are scratched.

The buttons are faded.

Tiny stickers are peeling from the back.

You smile.

"Is this yours?"

Idia slowly walks over.

"...Yeah."

"You never told me you still had it."

"I... thought I lost it years ago."

You hand it to him.

He turns it over carefully, almost afraid it might fall apart.

"...This thing survived?"

You notice how gently his thumb brushes over the cracked shell.

"It was your first console?"

"...The first one I could call my own."

His voice is quieter now.

"I saved up forever for it."

A small laugh escapes him.

"I used to hide under the blankets at night and play until Ortho caught me."

"He told on you?"

"No."

Idia smiles.

"He'd just crawl under the blanket too."

You can't help smiling with him.

"What did you two play?"

"Oh..."

His eyes soften.

"Everything."

"Racing games."

"Monster games."

"Puzzle games."

"...Anything that had co-op."

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

...

You press the power button.

Nothing.

"...Dead?" you ask.

Idia nods.

"Battery's probably gone... or something inside finally gave up."

You frown.

"That's a shame."

He smiles softly, still turning the little console over in his hands.

"Not really."

"Hm?"

"It already did what it was supposed to do."

"It gave me years of memories."

You glance at him.

"...Besides."

A small grin appears on his face.

"I can probably repair it."

"You can?"

"You underestimate how attached gamers get to old hardware."

You laugh.

"So there's hope?"

"For the console?"

He shrugs.

"Maybe."

Then he smiles at you.

"But even if I can't fix it..."

The nightmares never really stopped.

Most nights, Idia could ignore them.

Bury himself in games.

Anime.

Coding.

Anything that kept his mind busy enough not to remember.

But some nights were different.

Some nights he woke up gasping.

Heart racing.

Hands shaking.

For one terrible moment, he was back there.

Watching everything fall apart.

Watching himself become something he couldn't recognize.

Watching Ortho disappear.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The worst part wasn't the memory.

It was how real it still felt.

How, even now, his chest tightened whenever Ortho was out of sight for too long.

How every unanswered message made his stomach drop.

How every moment of silence felt dangerous.

Because Idia knew what it was like to lose him.

And once you've lived through something like that, your brain never quite believes you're safe.

Sometimes Ortho would find him awake in the middle of the night.

Staring at nothing.

Lost somewhere years in the past.

"Brother?"

A simple word.

A familiar voice.

And suddenly the room would come back into focus.

The nightmare would fade.

The panic would loosen its grip.

Because Ortho was here.

Alive.

Smiling.

Talking about something completely random.

As if the world hadn't almost taken him away.

As if everything was normal.

And maybe that was why Idia never complained when Ortho interrupted him.

Never complained when Ortho talked too much.

Never complained when Ortho dragged him into things he didn't want to do.

Because every annoying, chaotic, loud moment was proof.

Proof that he was still here.

Proof that Idia hadn't lost him.

Proof that he had been given another chance.

So when Ortho smiled and said, "Brother, are you listening?"

Idia would look away and grumble.

"Yeah, yeah."

But his voice was always softer afterward.

Because there were some things he would never say out loud.

Like how every day with Ortho still felt a little like a miracle.

It's late.

The two of you are lying in bed together, illuminated only by the faint blue glow of Idia's hair.

You can't sleep.

Idia is pretending he can't sleep.

You roll over and look at him.

"Idia."

"Hm?"

"Are you awake?"

"No."

"..."

"..."

"You're talking to me."

"Ghost."

You laugh quietly.

The room falls silent again.

For a moment, you think he's drifted off.

Then you feel something brush against your hand.

His fingers.

Tentatively.

Almost shyly.

Like he's asking permission.

You intertwine your fingers with his.

Immediately, his grip tightens.

Not enough to hurt.

Just enough to keep you there.

A few more quiet moments pass.

Then, very softly:

"...I like this."

You smile.

"Holding hands?"

"Knowing you're here."

Your heart skips a beat.

Idia groans instantly.

"Ugh."

"What?"

"I said something embarrassing."

"It was cute."

"Even worse."

You laugh and move a little closer.

Normally, he'd be a flustered mess.

But tonight he simply wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him.

Like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Like you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

You rest your head on his chest.

His heartbeat is a little fast.

Then you hear him mumble into your hair:

"...You know, before you, I thought being alone was easier."

You look up.

His face is bright red.

But this time he doesn't hide.

Instead, he presses a small kiss to your forehead.

"...Turns out I was wrong."

You and Idia are walking through the school together.

Well. Walking is a strong word.

You're walking.

Idia is trailing three steps behind you like a suspicious NPC.

(Y/N): "Idia."

Idia: "Hm."

(Y/N): "Why are you walking so far away?"

Idia: "I'm not."

You stop.

He stops.

You take one step toward him.

He takes one step back.

(Y/N): "Idia."

Idia: "It's strategic."

(Y/N): "Strategic for what?"

Idia: "Social distancing."

(Y/N): "We're dating."

Idia: "Exactly."

(Y/N): "...What?"

He gestures vaguely.

Idia: "People know we're dating."

(Y/N): "Yes."

Idia: "So they might look at us."

(Y/N): "Okay?"

Idia: "And if they look at us, they might realize we're holding hands."

(Y/N): "We aren't even holding hands."

Idia: "BUT WE COULD."

You stare at him.

He stares at the ground.

Then, with the confidence of a man making the hardest decision of his life, he reaches out and grabs your hand.

For approximately three seconds.

Then he immediately covers his face with his free hand.

Idia: "Oh Seven, people can see."

(Y/N): "No one is even looking."

Idia: "THEY COULD."

You laugh and squeeze his hand.

To your surprise, he squeezes back.

A few moments pass in silence.

Then:

"..."

"..."

Idia: "...This is nice."

You smile.

(Y/N): "Aww."

Idia: "Don't make it weird."

(Y/N): "You're literally holding my hand."

Idia: "Yeah."

He looks away.

"Babe, can you hand me the charger?"

Idia doesn't answer.

You look over.

He's staring at you.

Not blinking.

Just staring.

"Idia?"

"..."

"Idia?"

"...You called me babe."

You blink. "Yeah?"

His face turns bright red.

You watch him slowly pull his hoodie over his face.

"Idia, are you okay?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I wasn't emotionally prepared for that level of affection."

"...It's literally one word."