#toorues

it’s a strange thing to be seen. he was so desperate for it as a child, for someone to look at him and see in him the things he read about in the early hours of each morning, surrounded by other children his age — be good, be kind, be charitable, help your fellows even when you can’t help yourself. shed tears only for others, never for yourself. and he wanted to be good, and kind, but more than anything, he wanted to be told this is what he was. often, he wondered if the other children were half as hungry. 

“ …are you making fun of me? ” he twists in his seat, pulling the thick, woven blanket more securely around his middle. his gaze drifts naturally from the tv screen to lock with tooru’s, eyes searching. curious.

it’s not often that shouyou lets himself get caught lacking these days. his teenage years felt overripe with fumbling, to the point where it still sometimes makes his stomach tighten with discomfort when he recalls specific situations, in school and outside it. he used to think so much, mostly to his own detriment, and it took so long for him to learn that it wasn’t how things were meant to be. 

by the time he did learn, he was an adult, and in rio, and breaking his back in an entirely different way. still chasing the same thing, but from disparate angles. it left little time for a lack of anything.

today he feels lacking in a fundamental, structural way; exhausted, but in a way sleep is unlikely to fix. 

“ you’re back. ” he greets tooru the same way he always does, smile soft, settled by his presence, but he’s slow to get up, and when he meets him at the doorstep with a customary hug, he’s even slower to pull back. he tucks his face into the welcoming curve of his boyfriend’s neck and breathes out a quiet sigh.

@toorues   /   accepting.

unrealistic. blocked.