#mythboundcal

When the Stars Start Writing Back Kingdom Hearts Fanfic by MythboundCal

The bottle arrives at twilight.

Washed ashore like a forgotten promise. Smooth glass, still sealed, still brave.

Sora almost doesn’t pick it up. Almost lets the tide reclaim it.

But something in him—someone—knows.

He holds it in both hands.

The ribbon is faded red. The scroll inside is yellowed at the edges but dry. It smells like salt and sunlight and something he can’t name. Like paopu blossoms. Like yesterday.

His name is written on the outside. Kairi’s handwriting. Exactly as he remembers it. Exactly as he doesn’t.

He doesn’t open it right away.

Instead, he sits. Cross-legged in the sand. The sky above him darkens, starlight flickering on like they’re waiting for his permission.

There were letters he never answered. Letters he never got.

Time in the Realm of Sleep didn’t move right. Neither did his heart, sometimes.

But this one?

This one feels like it slipped through a crack in the sky just to find him.

He unrolls it carefully.

“I know you can’t answer me yet. But I’ll wait anyway. I’ll keep writing until the stars start writing back.”

There’s more. Little drawings. Memories. Hopes written sideways in the margins. A poem about the ocean, probably meant to be silly, but it makes his throat close up.

Because her handwriting hasn’t changed.

But he has.

He closes his eyes, and Roxas stirs somewhere in the quiet places inside him. Not words. Just a hum. A breath. A shared ache.

He places the letter back in the bottle, reseals it, and gently tosses it out again.

Maybe not a reply.

Practice Proposal Haikyuu!! Fanfic by MythboundCal

It starts as a joke. Like most dangerous things do.

They're closing up after practice—lights off, gym bags slung, the sky outside going that soft sherbet color it gets when it’s about to apologize for being a long day.

“You ever think we should just get married?” Suga asks, unceremonious.

Daichi doesn’t look up from locking the supply closet. “To each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” Daichi says. “Why not?”

It’s tossed like a volleyball—casual, with spin. And Suga—true to form—bumps it right back.

“We’d be disgustingly functional,” he says. “I’d do the budgeting, you’d handle the furniture assembly. We’d fight about curtain rods and end it with snacks.”

Daichi chuckles. “You’d forget anniversaries.”

“I’d write them on your palm before bed. You’d wake up furious but oddly touched.”

“Sounds about right.”

The door clicks shut. The gym hums with quiet.

They walk.

It should end there. But Suga keeps talking. Too calmly.

“I bet I’d cry during the vows,” he says.

“You definitely would,” Daichi replies. “You’d blame allergies and wipe your nose on the sleeve of a blazer you borrowed and never returned.”

Suga laughs, but his steps slow. “You’d hold my hands too tightly.”

“You always fidget.”

“And you’d kiss me like we’re in a sports anime.”

Daichi stops walking.

Because suddenly, it’s not funny anymore.

And Suga—sugar-knife smile, honey-voice danger—turns slightly and says, “It was supposed to be a joke.”

Daichi swallows. “Until it wasn’t.”

Suga nods. Just once. Like he’s accepting a challenge he issued five years ago.

Then he breaks into a grin and throws his gym bag at Daichi’s chest.

“Okay,” he says, turning back toward the sunset. “Proposal accepted. But you’re telling Coach.”

Daichi stares at him—backlit by the ridiculous sky, already walking ahead like he hasn’t just changed everything.

And Daichi smiles.

Because of course he would.

—

A/N: The “practice proposal” joke is a trope in Japanese media and fandoms—a lighthearted way to explore deeper feelings under the guise of play.

🕯 The room remembers.

Not with ghosts. Just… habits.

This is the opening image from my debut fic What the Room Remembers — a soft, aching reunion between Alhaitham and Kaveh, told through the lens of memory and the weight of absence. There’s no yelling. No fireworks. Just silence, and all the things it echoes with.

I Thought You’d Be Louder Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic by MythboundCal

The apartment’s still here.

Second floor, third window cracked open like it always was. As if Geto had just stepped out for groceries. As if curses didn’t bleed out of the walls in Tokyo now.

Gojo lets himself in.

No key. Just memory. The door creaks like it remembers him. That annoys him.

He stands in the hallway too long, not looking at the coat rack where a black hoodie still hangs. The air smells like old books and hair product and something faintly citrus.

“I thought you’d be louder,” he mutters to no one in particular.

He doesn’t mean the apartment.

He means the grief. The silence. The absolute wrongness of this. He thought it would come like thunder—like Geto used to, all ideology and noise and conviction.

Instead, it’s soft. It’s suffocatingly soft.

Gojo moves to the table. There’s a chessboard there, half-played. Suguru’s side is one move from checkmate. Of course it is.

“Smartass,” Gojo whispers.

The chair opposite it is still pushed out, like it waited. Like it knew he'd come back and lose.

He sits. Doesn’t move the piece. Doesn’t touch anything.

Just… listens. To the quiet. To the ghost of someone who used to know how to pull a laugh out of him like a rabbit from a hat.

Geto once said the world was broken.

Gojo never argued.

He just kept trying to fix it anyway.

And now? Now he sits in a dead man’s kitchen, playing the last game they didn’t get to finish. And he loses. Gracefully. Silently.

“I hate you,” he murmurs. Then adds, almost gently— “You’d hate that I’m still here.”

The board says nothing.

The Last Person to Say My Name That Way Naruto (Kakashi) Fanfic by MythboundCal

He dreams of her in water.

Not the battlefield. Not the mud and blood and the moment everything went wrong. Just… water. Still. Cool. Quiet.

Rin sits with her feet in the stream. Not smiling, not angry—just there. Like the past didn’t happen. Or maybe it hasn’t yet.

“Kakashi,” she says, and that’s the part that breaks him.

Not her face. Not her voice. But the way she says his name. Like it still means something good.

He doesn’t speak. Not yet. Not in these dreams. He just sits. A little downstream. Close enough to feel the ripples.

“You still think it was your fault,” she says after a while, plucking a petal from the water. “It wasn’t.”

“You died,” he replies. The petal slips through her fingers.

“So did you,” she says.

That part stings. Not because it’s untrue—but because she says it without blame.

Kakashi stares at the water. There’s no reflection. There never is.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he says.

Rin hums. “Good. Because I’m not offering it.”

A pause.

“I’m just here.”

And somehow, that’s worse.

Because he wants to be punished. He wants her to scream. To cry. To make him say it out loud. But Rin… is just kind. Like she always was. And it guts him in ways the war never did.

She stands. Water doesn’t cling to her feet. She leaves no footprints on the grass.

He doesn’t look up. But she touches his shoulder. And for a moment, his whole body remembers what it was like to be chosen without effort.

“Try again,” she says gently. “And let someone say your name the way I used to.”

She fades before he can answer. She always does.

But when he wakes up, Kakashi whispers it to the ceiling anyway—

“Rin.”

Where the Ocean Ends Stardew Valley Fanfic (Sebastian & Farmer) by MythboundCal

He doesn’t look at you when you sit down.

There’s a glow at the edge of his fingertips— A cigarette burning low. He holds it like he’s not sure he wants it anymore.

The sea below is quiet tonight. Not still—just tired.

You don’t say anything. You never have to.

He exhales, slow and silver, and finally speaks.

“I used to imagine the ocean just… ended. Like there was a line. A clean break. You step past it, and that’s it.”

His voice is sand-worn, casual. But his shoulders give him away.

“I thought if I could reach that edge, Maybe I’d disappear the right way. Not messy. Just—quiet.”

You don’t interrupt. He wasn’t asking for rescue.

He flicks ash into the dark.

“But it’s not like that. The water just keeps going. Even if you can’t see where.”

Another pause.

“Kind of like you.”

That’s when he looks at you. Not dramatic. Just enough.

“You show up. Every time I try to vanish. You just… sit here. Like you belong in the silence.”

There’s no music. No stars flaring above in response. Just the sound of tide against rock, And the weight of being seen.

You let the silence stretch. Let it mean something.

He takes one last drag, then snuffs the cigarette out on a stone. Doesn’t throw it. Just holds it like a regret.

“Thanks,” he says.

You don’t ask what for. He’s not ready to say.

Maybe he never will. But for now, He stays.

—

A/N: I’ve always been drawn to characters who live between silences—who carry a storm but speak in small, steady weather. Sebastian feels like that. He’s not loud about his grief or his dreams, but you can feel the weight in the way he looks away, the way he lights a cigarette like it’s armor, not indulgence.

I wanted to write the moment where he doesn’t need to be saved—just seen. Because sometimes healing doesn’t look like a breakthrough. Sometimes it’s just someone choosing not to leave.

The Sea Forgets Slowly One Piece Fanfic by MythboundCal

It’s a windless day. The Thousand Sunny barely sways. The kind of quiet that only happens between islands—between battles.

Nami sits with her legs dangling off the deck. A glass of orange juice sweats in her hand. Beside her, Robin’s book is closed. She hasn’t opened it in an hour.

Neither of them says anything for a long time.

“It’s strange,” Nami says, finally. “You can sail for days and still feel like you’re not getting anywhere.”

Robin hums. “Sometimes that’s the point.”

The sun is soft today. Not lazy—just gentle, like it knows they need room to breathe.

“There’s this place on my old map,” Nami continues. “I used to call it the Nowhere Zone. No winds. No waves. I thought it was cursed. But now…”

She trails off.

Robin doesn’t push. She never does. She just waits—like tide on rock.

“I think maybe it was a place for people like us. The ones who lost too much too fast. Who needed the sea to stop moving so we could catch up.”

Robin smiles, small. Sad. True.

“I never mapped that place,” Nami says. “But I think we’re in it now.”

Robin looks out at the glassy water, her voice softer than the breeze. “The sea forgets slowly,” she says. “But it never forgets completely.”

They sit like that for a while. Two women stitched with old pain, breathing in silence like it’s a prayer.

And somewhere in the distance, the wind stirs—just a little. Not enough to move the ship.

But enough to remind them it still could.

---

A/N: I wrote “The Sea Forgets Slowly” because I think grief in the One Piece world is often loud—explosive, heroic, full of tears and flames. But grief can also be quiet. It can sit with you for days at sea, just like someone who understands without asking questions. I wanted to give Nami and Robin that kind of silence. That kind of breath. A moment between islands, where nothing has to happen—and that’s what makes it healing.

For anyone still carrying something heavy: this one’s for you.

Believe in the Me Who Believes in You (Unsent Letter from Kamina) Gurren Lagann Fanfic by MythboundCal

Oi, Simon.

I don’t know if you’ll ever find this. Maybe it’ll burn up in battle. Maybe I’ll never get the guts to hand it to you. Doesn’t matter.

Some things you say just in case. Just in case the drill stops turning. Just in case I don’t get to shout one more time.

So here it is.

You’ve got something in you that’s bigger than fear. Bigger than the hole you think you’re digging out of. You’ve got you.

I know sometimes you shake. I know you doubt yourself. So let me carry that for a while.

Don’t believe in yourself. Believe in the me who believes in you.

And when even that’s not enough?

Believe in the you I already see— The one who’s going to change the whole damn world.

Because you will, Simon. You have to. You’re the one who keeps going when it’s impossible.

Me? I was just the first idiot loud enough to punch the heavens.

But you? You’re the one who’s gonna pierce them.

So when they ask— When the whole world asks—

“Just who the hell do you think you are?!”

You tell them. Say it with your chest. Say it like a drill tearing through doubt.

“I’m Simon. And I’m the one he believed in.”

If I’m not around tomorrow, that’s alright. I was never supposed to last forever.

I was the spark. You’re the fire.

Now go light the damn sky.

— Kamina

---

This piece is a love letter—not just from Kamina to Simon, but from me to you. All of you.