#airy posts

After dinner, your daughter sat at the kitchen table with the concentration of someone who was writing the next great novel. Her tongue was sticking out, a crayon clutched in her fist- precision on every messily written word, only stopping for breaks to ask you how to spell something.

Enjin leaned over your shoulder, "What is she doing?" You smiled, looking at him, "Writing a letter." He was even more confused…this fairy took teeth AND letters? "...To the fairy?"

"Mhm."

"...Why?"

"So she knows where to find the tooth."

"...Ah."

Right.

Fairies must love unnecessary paperwork.

Your daughter scribbled for nearly ten whole minutes before proudly holding up the page, "Done!"

You took it dramatically, "Let's see..."

Dear Tooth Fairy,

Thank you for coming to my house.

Can I have one hundred thousand dollars please?

Love, Me.

Enjin blinked, "...One hundred thousand?" He wasn’t even sure if he knew how many zeroes that had in it. (You very helpfully told him it had five later that night)

"Yep!” Your daughter smiled proudly.

"For...one tooth?"

She nodded, “Mommy told me they’re priceless!” He gave you a look, like you were equally as insane as this teeth stealing, note loving, bad at directions fairy.

"The first ones are always the most expensive," you nodded along.

Enjin was wondering if this fairy also robbed people for a living.

Later that night, you tucked her beneath layers of blankets and kissed her forehead, watching as she carefully slipped the tiny tooth and the letter beneath her pillow.

Then she folded her little hands in a praying motion, "I hope she comes." "Oh sweetie," you smiled. "I'm sure she will."

She yawned, rubbing her eyes, "I hope Santa didn't tell her I cried when I lost it..." Ever since you’d sang her a song about Santa always watching, your daughter was quite fearful of this strange man.

You hid a laugh, "I don't think he would."

"...Okay."

Within minutes, she was asleep.

When he heard the bedroom door click shut, Enjin immediately turned to you, "...What now?"

You opened the junk drawer and pulled out a pink glitter pen.

He watched in silence, gaping once he finally caught up to what you were doing,  "...You're the fairy."

"I am."

"So she’s not real?” 

“Nope.”

“There’s no tooth castle?”

“Ew, no.”

He leaned against the counter while you began writing in the most outrageously whimsical handwriting he'd ever seen.

Every i dotted with a heart.

Every y curled dramatically.

Even your signature sparkled.

My Dear,

I don't have $100,000 right now because Santa Claus borrowed all my money for Christmas!

Luckily, the big, kind bunny shared some with me so I could give you a little surprise.

Thank you for taking such good care of your tooth!

Love,

The Tooth Fairy ♡

Enjin stared, "...Santa stole her money?"

"Borrowed it."

"...The bunny gave her money?"

"The Easter Bunny."

"...How do they know each other?"

"They're coworkers, obviously."

You looked up, a grin on your face as you folded the letter. He watched as the hearts, glitter, and loops disappeared as you folded into one tiny square.

He'd fallen in love with you a hundred different times, but somehow, watching you write a letter from a fairy might've been his favorite.

Around midnight, you nudged him awake, "It's time."

He sat upright immediately, "...Already?"

You handed him a folded bill, watching as his face dropped in utter despair, "No."

"Come on, you’re gonna play fairy for me.” Enjin was sure his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

But he was never one to back down, “She needs more than this,”

He checked his pockets and wallet and found loose bills, coins, and a bottle cap.

He frowned, "This is all I have." You smiled as you looked at the collection of money in his hands, "It's fine."

"...Really?"

"She asked for one hundred thousand dollars. She won’t know the difference.”

The hallway was dark when Enjin approached her bedroom like he was infiltrating enemy territory. While he felt like he was on a stealth mission of a lifetime, you simply leaned against the doorway, watching.

He looked back, "...She's asleep?"

"Mhm."

"...Deeply?"

You shrugged, "Probably."

"...Probably?"

You nodded, giving him a big thumbs up, "I believe in you."

You believed in him, your daughter believed in the tooth fairy…he just hoped at least one of them could be real tonight.

He opened the door slowly, making sure there were no creaks.

Good.

He took one step, and then another, his heartbeat deafening in his ears.

He's fought monsters. He's fought men twice his size. He's fought for his life. And somehow, none of it compared to this.

He knelt beside the bed.

Very, very slowly...

Lifted the edge of the pillow.

His breathing stopped.

He could see the tooth, so small compared to the pillow it was hidden under, and the letter- which was pushed so far back he was scared he might wake her.

Easy.

Easy-

The pillow shifted, and your daughter sighed.

Enjin froze, so much so that he didn't breathe. Didn't dare to blink. Didn't even think, too scared she would somehow be able to hear his thoughts.

Then she rolled over and let out another sigh- good, she was asleep.

After what felt like thirty years, he finally slipped the tooth out and replaced it with every bill he'd managed to gather.

He swapped her letter with your pink letter, trying to position it in the same way hers was- pushed back but still completely under the pillow.

He slowly lowered the pillow and backed away, one careful step at a time until he got to the door and closed it just as slowly and quietly as when he opened it.

He turned toward you, eyes wide and heart racing so loud he was sure you could hear it, "I did it."

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh,  "So you did."

"I thought she woke up." He recounted the terrifying moment. "My heart stopped. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes."

You laughed so hard you had to cover your mouth, “Well, Mr. Tooth Fairy, you did it.”

And as much as he wanted to relish in the praise you were giving him, instead he opened his hand to look at the tiny tooth resting in his palm.

He stared at it for a while and then looked at you with another eyebrow raise, 

"...What do we do with the tooth?"

⁀☀︎ ©airybcby

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You had your own career, your own friends, your own life.

You were successful enough that your face was plastered on billboards and magazine covers.

You should've been perfectly capable of entertaining yourself.

But somehow whenever Sae left for away games or training camps, the entire apartment seemed to lose its color.

The silence became so loud to the point you jumped at every little noise, worried somehow someone had broken in while you’d been right in front of the door. The bed became so big you felt like it might swallow you whole. Everything around you felt just a little emptier.

It was embarrassing, honestly.

Every time he left, he gave you the same instruction, "Don't stay inside all day." As if you were a house cat! 

And every single time you'd tell him, "I won't." Which was a complete lie.

Because whenever he wasn't home, all you wanted to do was wait for him to come back.

Because if you were inside, then no one could make up some story about you, and lo and behold when you'd actually listened to him for once, the rumors now on your phone stirred up once again.

Weeks ago your agency had hosted a huge party.

A networking event with all sorts of sponsors and designers being invited. Models, influencers, and celebrities were all in attendance. This was the kind of event that was supposedly important for your career, and yet you'd wanted to skip it.

Sae had been leaving for Spain that morning.

You remembered standing in the airport terminal while he adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, "You should go." he said, as calm and stoic as ever.

You groaned, "I don't want to."

"You never want to."

"Because they're boring."

"They're important for you." You narrowed your eyes, hating how sophisticated he looked and sounded.

His mouth twitched into what could be perceived as almost a smile. Almost.

"Traitor." You huffed, glaring at him as if he really had betrayed you. "Go to the party."

You crossed your arms, "No."

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead, completely ruining your ability to stay annoyed, "Go."

And because you were weak for him- and definitely not because he called you and all but scolded you on staying in - you went.

Which, from the moment you’d stepped in the door, you’d known was a big mistake.

The second you'd arrived, you wanted to leave.

Music pounded through the walls. People were crowded in every room. Champagne flowed like water. And there were enough suspicious substances floating around to make you nervous.

You spent exactly an hour there.

One, singular.

You talked to a few friends and took pictures with sponsors like you were technically “supposed to.”

You smiled for cameras and pretended to enjoy yourself. Then the second the clock hit on the hour, you escaped.

You remembered slipping out the front door, relieved to be free of that terrible place full of terrible people and utterly ready to go home.

But nothing was ever simple in your life, apparently, thanks to a paparazzi photographer that had been waiting outside.

Within minutes, the headlines appeared:

MODEL CAUGHT LEAVING MYSTERY HOME AT MIDNIGHT

As if. No, not even just as if! As if you'd have the energy for an affair! As if you would cheat on the Sae Itoshi! And as if you would ever let yourself get caught if you were !

You barely had the energy to wash your makeup off after shoots, and these people think you have the brain power and energy to have a whole double life? You wished.

The second you'd gotten home that night, you'd called Sae, ignoring the time difference between the two of you entirely.

Your phone rang once. Twice.

Then with a soft click, Sae appeared on your screen.

His hotel room was dimly lit.

His hair looked damp, probably fresh out of the shower considering he’d definitely just gotten out of practice.

The sight of him immediately made your chest ache.

"There she is."

You rolled your eyes, "Hello my amazing, awesome, loving boyfriend."

A small pause, and with an amused smirk on his face, "Hello, Ms. Cheater."

You gasped, "Sae Itoshi." His expression remained completely serious, "How's your affair?"

"You quit that."

"The mysterious lover treating you well?"

"You're not funny." You shoved your phone against the bathroom counter before beginning your skincare routine.

The entire time you complained.

About the party and every random drug and drink that was offered to you.

About your agency who let rumors and lies spread about you for ‘good publicity’ instead of fixing it.

About the paparazzi who just had to sell the ugliest picture of you out of all the ones they’d taken.

About the headlines where your name was never mentioned- only known as Sae Itoshi’s girlfriend. You had a name goddamnit!

About the comments that people left because at this point, they were so unoriginal and unfunny that it hurt.

Truly, you complained about literally everything.

Sae listened quietly, occasionally humming in agreement and nodding along, and sometimes you’d catch him looking suspiciously amused.

You changed into pajamas, brushed your teeth, washed your face, and put up your hair…all while complaining to the man over the phone.

By the time you finally crawled into bed, nearly thirty minutes had passed and Sae had barely spoken, simply opting to listen to you and your problems.

You settled against your pillow, exhausted when he did finally speak, "Did you have fun?"

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head, "Sae Itoshi."

"Hm?"

"I just spent thirty minutes talking about how much I hated that place."

He nodded, "Right." You desperately wished he was besides you so you could give him a good smack, "So obviously I didn't have fun."

A laugh escaped him and you immediately felt your annoyance weaken.

Damn your traitorous heart.

"You're awful."

"So I've been told."

You sighed.

For a moment neither of you spoke.

You simply looked at him, memorizing him through the screen.

The shape of his face. The color of his eyes. The way his hair fell over his forehead.

God. You missed him.

And it had only been two weeks. Two stupid weeks! Yet somehow, the more you thought about it, it felt longer.

"I miss you." The words slipped out before you could stop them.

The teasing smile disappeared from his face.

His expression softened just enough for you to notice, "I miss you too."

Your chest tightened, "When are you coming home?"

"Soon."

"Soon isn't soon enough."

"I know."

You pouted and the mildly sad moment was gone because all Sae looked was amused again, "You'll survive."

"Will I?" You groaned.

He smiled, nodding along to your dramatic whines.

Suddenly everything hurt a little less.

Only a little, but it was enough.

Enough to get through another day without Sae by your side. Just talking to him reminded you that you loved him enough to wait. You could definitely keep going until he came home.

The thing that scared you wasn't the distance, you understood the distance. Afterall, Sae was a professional athlete and travel was part of the job. You'd known that from the beginning.

What scared you was how much you missed him.

Because you'd dated before. Not many people, but enough. And not in any one of those relationships had you ever felt this way.

Never.

You'd never heard a joke and immediately thought:

I need to tell him.

You'd never seen something cute in a store and wanted to buy it because someone specific would like it.

You'd never reached across a bed and felt disappointed when nobody was there.

You'd never missed someone so much that entire parts of your day felt incomplete.

It terrified you.

Because what if it never stopped?

What if you spent the rest of your life feeling this way whenever he left?

What if that was just what loving Sae meant?

Being with him made you happy and you were so loved, but you were also simultaneously missing him every second he wasn't there.

You weren't sure, but you thought about it often. Especially on nights like this when you were alone in your apartment, curled beneath blankets and listening to the distant hum of city traffic.

Waiting for a man who made your heart ache even when he was across the world.

Three weeks later, you were lying on the couch.

Again.

Exactly where Sae told you not to be.

A blanket cocooned around you while you binged another episode of that modeling show played on the television. Not that you were paying attention, no, you were scrolling through old pictures of Sae.

Pathetic.

A key turned in the front door and you froze, the sound barely registered at first. Then you heard the door open and your heart stopped.

No. No way.

You shot upright.

The suitcase was the first thing you saw. Then his pink hair. Then familiar teal eyes that you loved to look into.

For a second neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

Sae looked tired, travel-worn, down right exhausted, and somehow still the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

The blanket fell off your shoulders.

"Sae?"

His expression softened immediately. And that was all it took before you practically launched yourself off the couch, crossing the apartment in seconds.

His bag hit the floor as you crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck.

His arms immediately circled your waist, holding you so tightly that you almost couldn't breathe. Not that you cared. He could suffocate you just like this and you’d be thankful. His face disappeared into your hair, taking deep breaths.

You felt his shoulders relax, like he'd finally stopped carrying some invisible weight.

For a long moment neither of you spoke, neither of you needed to.

You just stood there holding each other and making up for weeks apart.

Eventually he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you.

His thumbs brushed your cheeks, "You look tired." You scoffed, "You just got off an international flight. You look worse."

A rare smile appeared.

God, you'd missed that smile.

You stared at him. Then stared some more like he’d disappear if you looked away for too long.

A frown filled your face and Sae raised an eyebrow,  "What?" You buried your face in his chest again, "I really hate when you leave." The confession slipped out before you could stop it. "I know it's your job and I know it's stupid and I know you'll always come back but I still hate it." The words were muffled against his shirt.

You felt him rest his chin on top of your head. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than usual, "It isn't stupid."

Your eyes stung unexpectedly, because when you told anyone else this they’d say you were silly for thinking like that, "You think?"

He nodded, rubbing his thumb under your eye to catch the few fallen tears, "I know so."

You squeezed him tighter, "You've ruined me Sae Itoshi,” you sighed. "I didn't use to be like this."

A small laugh vibrated through his chest before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, then your temple, then the tip of your nose. And suddenly every lonely night felt worth it.

Because he was here.

Home.

And for the first time in weeks, the apartment didn't feel empty anymore.

⁀☀︎ ©airybcby

You met Yuji Itadori when you were sixteen. He was loud, kind, and always bleeding from somewhere.

You thought he smiled too much. He thought you frowned too much. You thought he was pretty loud. He thought you were pretty. From there, the rest happened naturally.

Movie nights became dates. Dates became shared apartments. Shared apartments became homes. Homes became places you stayed for decades.

You never got married.

He asked once, and only once.

He'd bought a ring with money he'd saved for nearly a year.

It wasn't extravagant because you would've hated extravagance. It was just a thin gold band with a tiny stone that caught the light whenever he turned the box.

"I know it's... weird," he'd begun.

You stared at the ring for a long time, and then you smiled, "You know why we can't."

"I don't care."

"I do."

"You'd still be my wife."

"I would." You reached over, closing the little velvet box with gentle fingers. "You'll still be here in a hundred years."

"I don't care." He’d said with the conviction of a hundred men. "I do." Your smile trembled, as if you were forcing it on. "How're you supposed to explain having the same marriage certificate from a century ago?"

"I'll figure something out."

"You always say that."

You leaned forward until your forehead rested against his, "You can't stop living because you loved me."

He wanted to argue. Argue that, yes, he’d find a way. He’d find a way to become mortal again- to age alongside you in this life and the next. But…he couldn’t promise that.

Instead, you laughed at his focused face, "Besides..." You kissed the tip of his nose, "I don't need a ring to know you love me."

And that was the end of it.

The ring stayed in the back of his dresser. He never threw it away…just in case.

The years were cruel in ways curses never managed to be.

You first complained about your knees. And then your back was constantly aching. Then your eyesight got worse.

Reading glasses appeared. Walking canes were an everyday accessory. Little orange prescription bottles lined your bathroom sink.

Yuji remained forever somewhere in between, withered and aged by the fights he had as a young teenager, but never looking old enough to match your aging pace.

Every few years, you moved to a new city with new names. You met new neighbors, and eventually, people stopped asking if you were dating.

Eventually, it turned to, "...It's sweet your grandson takes such good care of you."

You opened your mouth, but Yuji answered first, "Yeah."

The woman smiled warmly, "You're a good young man."

Young.

She walked away, unaware of how she added another crack to the already crumbling resolve he’d had. The silence lingered between you.

"You know..." You nudged his shoulder with yours. "I've always wanted grandchildren."

He groaned dramatically, "Oh my god."

"I'm kidding!”

You laughed together until neither of you could breathe.

And as much as he had laughed then, later that night- for as strong of a man that he was - Yuji cried in the shower where you couldn't hear him.

You’d wanted children, he knew that. Not because you’d explicitly told him, but he knew because you'd stop outside playgrounds. He knew by the way you always waved back when little kids stared.

Because you'd stop to look at tiny sweaters while shopping before quickly acting like you’d never known they existed. 

One evening, the words just spilled out of your mouth, "I would've liked being a mom." The words were so soft he almost missed them.

"...Yeah. I would’ve liked seeing it."

"But..." You reached over the table, taking his hand. "I like this life more."

He couldn't answer.

His throat had already closed.

Time became measured differently. Not by birthday candles on the cake. No, instead it became measured by your monthly doctor appointments. By how many times they changed your medication.

By how often you had to do blood work and physical therapy.

How many stairs you could still climb. How long your afternoon naps lasted.

Whether your hands shook enough to spill tea.

Sometimes, late at night, Yuji would watch you sleep, examining the way your face had changed.

The smooth cheeks he'd kissed as teenagers now carried delicate lines.

Your hair had become soft silver.

Your hands…god, your hands.

The same hands that once grabbed his sleeve while running across streets. The same hands that braided small pieces of Nobara's hair because she'd insisted she didn't know how, although Yuji believed she just wanted to be pampered.

The same hands that held Yuta’s newborn before...

Before.

Now they trembled while pouring coffee.

Now they bruised so easily that he was afraid to hold them too tight.

Now they looked...so fragile.

He hated that word.

Fragile.

You were never fragile.

He almost asked, hundreds of times.

Do you regret me?

He'd rehearse it while standing in the hallway, watching television, while washing dishes. And just when he thought he’d gotten the courage…then he'd see you humming while making breakfast.

Your hands are spotted with age and moving slower than they used to, carefully gripping the pan.

And suddenly, he couldn't.

Because he already knew your answer.

"Never." You'd smile. "Not once."

But was that true?

Or were you just protecting him?

Eventually, the answer came without him asking.

You were sitting by the window wrapped in a blanket.

"You thinking?" He asked, standing in the door way, watching you the way you were watching the rain outside.

You smiled, "Always."

"About?"

"You."

He blinked, "...Me?"

"I've been remembering."

"What?"

"Our first apartment."

He laughed, "The one with mold?" You smiled, nodding, "And the broken heater." "The neighbor that played trumpet at three in the morning?" He added with a twinge of annoyance, man he hated that guy!

You rolled your eyes, "I loved that apartment."

That, he was confused by, "It sucked." You slowly nodded, "It did, but…”

You looked away from the rain and back towards him, "I would've lived there forever if you were with me."

"I'm glad I met you." His chest tightened as you spoke. "I'm glad I chose you.” You smiled, adding on.

"Every version of my life where I don't meet you..." A small shake of your head. "I don't want it."

Yuji looked away, because if he didn't…he was sure that he would cry.

The diagnosis wasn't unexpected, but the terminal part was.

The doctors spoke gently, and you listened calmly.

And all Yuji could do was wonder how no one else was scared, terrified even. He’d heard nothing after the first sentence, but he knew what it meant.

He was going to lose you.

He hated hospitals, always had since his grandfather passed away.

So he hated it more when the equipment came home. When monitors and oxygen got hooked up in the bedroom. Medication schedules taped to the refrigerator. Machines that beeped all night. Machines that, as much as he hated them, he learned to operate with terrifying efficiency.

The bedroom slowly stopped looking like a bedroom.

It became something else Yuji was entirely too scared to name.

"You should sleep." You mumbled, fighting your own sleep to see him close his eyes first. "I'm fine." He insisted.

"You've been awake for hours." You reached a hand over and ran it through his hair, a small laugh being pulled out of you. "Gosh. You look awful."

He laughed, "You have tubes connected to you." You smiled, "You still look worse."

Your world shrank to the bedroom, then the living room, and you could even go to the garden on good days.

Eventually, as much as Yuji tried to fight the passing of time, you were refined to just the bed.

Yuji carried you everywhere when you wanted to move, like it weighed nothing.

Like if he held you tightly enough…time would realize his willpower and give up on this battle with him.

One afternoon, after a week inside, you whispered,  "I think..." your voice was shaky. "I'd like to see the sun." Yuji , ever loving and devoted, nodded immediately, "Okay."

He wrapped blankets around you and lifted you into his arms, very carefully, and took you outside.

The garden was blooming with hydrangeas.

You’d always loved hydrangeas.

He sat with you beneath them, your head rested against his shoulder.

"You remember..." You murmured. "The festival where you won me that giant stuffed bear?”

“I worked really hard for that-” He started, being cut off by your laugh. "You climbed the booth. The poor worker was so scared."

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but he could only smile, "He should've just given me the bear."

You laughed, as hard as you could now, and it turned into coughing. He waited until it stopped, hand patting your back with a practiced carefulness. 

"I'm tired." You sighed, leaning against him. He felt his heart shatter once more, "I know."

You looked up at him, eyes hazy, "You'll stay?" "Always."

Yuji Itadori would give his life force to you if you let him.

The last night, you couldn't speak much.

You said it hurt to breathe, and Yuji could tell by the way every inhale sounded borrowed.

And yet, he held your hand. Just like he'd done thousands of nights before.

The monitor filled the silence.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Your fingers squeezed his once, weakly.

"...Yuji."

"I'm here."

"I know."

Another breath.

"I was..." You took a long shaky breath. "So lucky."

Tears blurred everything around him.  "You gave me-"

He shook his head violently, willing you to stop- begging whatever god that was watching him to give you two more time together, "No."

"My whole life..."

Your smile…You still smiled so beautifully.

"...was so fun with you."

"It wasn't enough."

"It was everything." Your eyes drifted shut, "I love you."

He pressed his forehead against your hand. "I love you more."

The room grew quiet.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Your grip loosened.

Yuji waited, surely- surely - you’d take another breath.

Please.

Another. Anything.

Instead, the monitor screamed one endless, merciless note.

Yuji discovered that everything became silent when you lost the person who made your life so full of love.

It was silent enough that he could hear the clock ticking. Silent enough to hear rain against the windows.

Silent enough to hear himself whisper, "...Hey." As though you'd merely fallen asleep.

He brushed your hair behind your ear, just like he always did.

"You'll catch cold." His voice cracked. "You always fall asleep without blankets." He pulled one over you, hands shaking, "There."

Silence answered.

His thumb stroked the back of your hand.

It was already cooling. "Please..." Not because he believed you could hear him. Not because he thought you'd wake.

Just…Please.

Not you too.

He had buried his grandfather.

He had seen his mentors Nanami and Gojo die.

He had lost Megumi.

Too many friends. Too many graves. Too many names that he couldn’t even recall.

He had endured all of it.

Because somewhere, you had always been waiting at home.

Now...

There was nowhere left to return to.

Years later, the house was gone. The city had changed. And no one remembered your name.

Children played where your garden once bloomed.

Yuji sat beneath a lone hydrangea.

Still stuck in a young body with a withered, old, traumatized mind. But he was still breathing. Still cursed with tomorrow.

In his pocket, a tiny gold ring sat untouched. He rolled it between his fingers.

The metal had never dulled, unlike everything else.

"...You know..." His voice disappeared into the wind. "I finally figured out how to explain it." He smiled, a shaky one, he was sure, "If anyone asks..." He looked toward the sky, "...I'll just tell them my wife died."

He'd never gotten to call you that, not while you were alive. So he did now.

Even if no one was there to hear it. Even if the world had forgotten you.

He never would.

And for the first time in more than a century, Yuji Itadori wished with every aching part of himself that he had been born an ordinary man.

Because ordinary men could follow the people they loved, he could not.

So he stood, slipped the ring back into his pocket, and kept walking.

Alone.

Forever.

⁀☀︎ ©airybcby

‧°𓏲ּ 𝄢 likes comments and reblogs are appreciated