#tw.depression

“‘Tsumu?”

The guy barely opened his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice ringing on his right ear—the soft, angelic voice awakened him from his deep slumber as soon as he realized who the owner could be. His chest rose up and down at a slow pace with each heavy breath he took. He thought to himself, what time’s it? Is it noon? Is it night time? Frankly, he had no idea. He couldn’t even remember the last time he watched the sunset because he would often wake up at the weirdest times of the day, or night, and still end up going back to sleep. The amount of times he had gotten out of bed were as infrequent as the 29th of February.

Perhaps seeing you was his leap year.

“Atsumu, are you awake?”

He squinted his eyes and lifted his body with his elbows propped on both sides to see you sitting on the edge of his bed. A look of worry had stretched across your beautiful, delicate face by the time his eyes met yours. Call it crazy, but his mind stopped working and his heart stopped functioning overall. He was frozen like an ice block, unable to blink or breathe or do anything else. It was just hard to process that the person he loved the most was right in front of him, again.

“Y-Y/N?” he spoke, quickly enveloping you for a desperate embrace. “You’re back.”

You hugged him tightly and soothed his back with careful strokes that later shifted to his hair. Atsumu felt your fingers combing through his flaxen hair as you looked at him adoringly, just like how you used to. Your scent’s still the same, he thought. Except, you had a much more floral fragrance coming out of you. Like white roses and candles. He was comforted by your presence alone, but being able to talk to you and have you in his arms made him complete. How could one person fix another broken person by simply existing?

“I’m just visiting you, ‘Tsumu. I got so worried,” you softly whispered, cupping his cheek while caressing his cheekbone with your gentle thumb. “You need to take care of yourself. Please, baby. I hate seeing you like this because of me. I feel responsible for the pain I caused you.”

You shouldn’t at all—at least, that’s what Atsumu believed. If anything, he was the one who caused you misery. It was the only acceptable reason for him to deserve the agony that he was going through because your pain was also his. In his head, you didn’t have to feel sorry for him because this was his fault in the first place. Had he given you the proper love you deserved when you were still together, you never would have separated. Too many of those broken promises were made by him and one of which was his vow that he would stay with you through it all.

He didn’t. But he knew he should have. He should have supported your dreams instead of pulling you back.

You wanting to pursue your dreams was the root of your breakup. He didn’t want you to leave, he wanted you to stay despite your reassurance that the long distance relationship would work. It didn’t, however, because he saw other girls out of spite while you slept in your bed alone thinking of how much you missed him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started with a raspy voice, “I’m so fucking sorry for everything I did to you. They never meant anything to me and I was never a good boyfriend. I always fight with you over the littlest things, I always let my anger take over me. It was toxic and I should have realized that sooner. I-I should’ve listened to you when you told me that you—”

“Shh, it’s fine.” You pulled him back into your arms and let him feel your embrace, despite the coldness of his room. Atsumu’s heart couldn’t stop beating rapidly in his chest. “You’re fine. I’m not here to have you apologize. I just genuinely wanna let you know that you should live your life out there even if we’re no longer together, even if you and I can’t be together anymore. You’re still young and I know you have big dreams, so chase them. Search for someone new, learn how to love again, find your new source of happiness. You can’t stay locked in this room forever, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu was certain that his eyes were embossed with gloss as he saw his inverted reflection through yours. The anxiety building inside his heart had then faded into tranquility when he gazed at you and just simply appreciated the fact that you even took the time to visit him. You always knew how to control his mood and perhaps it was what brought you here to see him. You knew that you were the only one that could save him from his downfall.

“Just stay with me,” he begged, pressing his forehead against yours. “Be mine again. I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make you happy. Please, let me correct my mistakes. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I love you so much that I’d rather die than to live in this dull life without you.”

“Atsumu.” You sighed regrettably, squeezing his hand with a forlorn gaze. “I love you, too. I do, but you know we can’t be together anymore. I’m just here to give us our much needed closure and to make sure that you’ll be okay.”

He refused to accept your answer and felt tears brimming his eyes. You gave him a peck on the lips before those tears could fall and it was all it took for your one and only Atsumu to calm down. “Are you happy?”

You were quick to nod, but made the effort to clarify your response, “I am. Well, not as happy when I’m with you of course, but I’m learning to be happy on my own and that’s what you should do, too. We live in different worlds now, so I want you to live yours even without me by your side.”

He hated the very idea that he broke his promises to you—that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, that he wouldn’t make you cry. If only he could turn back time, then you would still be his and you two could have had a happy ending.

But happy endings in a world like this seemed to never exist.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told you in his sincerest gratitude. “You don’t know how happy I am. Can you... can you stay with me a little before you leave?”

With a reassuring nod, you laced your hand with his and glued your eyes to his loving ones. Despite the rocky part of your relationship with Atsumu, there were still many beautiful memories that you two shared together. You could never forget how he was your first real love, how you two dated all through high school, how you cheered for him in every game. Funny to think that he was actually popular with the ladies before, but his attention remained on you until the arguments began. Atsumu briefly recalled all these shared memories as if he could read through your mind and he was able to evoke the same sadness from the reminiscence of your short but beautiful time together.

If you were to be reborn again, he would still choose to love you.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu?” Another man’s voice cut him out of trance as it was followed by a knock on his door. Soon enough, the guy revealed himself to be Osamu who peeked through the door to check on his twin brother. “It’s dinner time. Who are you talking to?”

The blond twin gestured towards you. “Y/N, she came here to see me.”

Osamu looked at your direction with repressed emotions before he glanced at the scattered Fanapt pills that were all over his brother’s bedroom floor. A heavy sigh then flew out of his lips.

“‘Tsumu,” the other twin spoke cautiously. “Y/N died six months ago.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows in confusion before uncontrollable anger encompassed his head, completely disabling him to think rationally. How could his twin brother say that?

“Don’t say stupid things, ‘Samu! She’s right here.”

First things first. You are not a trainer that beat and captured him in the Cerulean Caves. That would earn his obedience and, just maybe, his respect. But not his love. when fates aligned so that you two did meet, you left an impression on him. It might not have been love, not at first, but you made emotions well in him that he was unaware he could even feel. I've drafted up 3 possible scenarios, I'll keep some of the details vague, so you can fill in the gaps yourself.

An Unexpected Rescue

While in the woods, you spot an injured Vulpix, they are wounded and bleeding. And being chased by a couple of Weville's, their natural predators.

You spring into action with little thought, scooping up the injured Pokemon, before trying to flee to safety.

The pair of Weville's aren't far behind you. They don't usually attack humans, but you stand between them and their prey. You are nearly cut to ribbons by the hungry pokemon's sharp claws.

You clutch the Vulpix to your chest, trying to protect it. Your vision getting blurry as you start to feel cold, quickly losing blood. You were stupid to do this, but you had to. You couldn't let this lost kit suffer.

Unbeknownst to you, Mewtwo hovered nearby, watching. Why weren't you throwing out your own Pokemon? Why were you letting these two Wevilles kill you?

It only takes a couple of more moments for him to realize that you DONT have any Pokemon. Either you never had any at all, or you didn't have them with you. He huffs, "Silly human."

Well, he can't just there and just let you die. He descends, sending both Wevilles scurrying with a well timed move.

You see him descend, and trivally fights off the predatory pokemon, before turning and looking at you. You weakly look up at him, unsure of what he is. Hugging the scared, injured Vulpix to your chest to try and protect it, in case he was another predator.

Seeing you throw yourself into mortal danger for a wild pokemon, with no way to defend yourself. It almost makes him laugh. Your either very brave or very stupid. But he can't help but be touched and impressed, as he uses the items in your bag to patch your and the Vulpix's wounds.

It's been so long since he's talked to anyone.... You seem nice enough, for a human. It might be nice to exchange some words with you.

To Protect The Innocent

Ever since your first run in with Team Rocket, you have sworn yourself to opposing them at every turn, for one reason for another. You've saved a lot of Pokemon, a lot of people. You are something of a local hero.

This has, as expected, put you in a lot of danger. Things have more then once escalated from Pokemon battles to hand to hand brawls to having to take cover from gunfire. You have some scars to your name as a result.

You hear that they are moving something BIG, that Giovanni was going to be making a move to try and capture a Legendary. No matter what specific Pokemon it was, that much power in the hand of a madman. You inform Officer Jenny, and the two of you move to stop his dastardly plan. Maybe you have your own small adventuring party, Just like Ash and his friends.

By the time you arrive, Things have already begun. Your not sure WHAT your really looking at, deep in the Cerulean Caves, but it's surrounded by grunts and their mons, attack from all angles. This is not a battle, this is a hunt. One that the psychic type pokemon was slowly losing. They came prepared.

After sending you and Jenny send your own Pokemon out, you manage to turn the tide, you and Jenny both knocking a few heads yourself.

The cat-like legendary is hurt bad by the time everything is said and done. But alive, and uncaptured. Goons and fainted Pokemon liter the cave floor.

You act Quickly to patch up the wounds on Mewtwo, using potions and banadges, while Jenny rounds up the criminals. He pulls away from your touch. He's confused, a rarity for him. Did you know he was down here? He know's Jenny's place as a police officer, but you are a mystery to him. Most people don't so openly oppose team rocket.

You talk some as you both rest. You explain who you are and the vendetta you have against Team Rocket.

You don't really notice, but his lips twitch up in a half smile. A human who stands up against the cruel actors of the world. And who's not afraid to get their own hands dirty, fighting right alongside their companions...

That's someone he can respect. He will be keeping a close eye on you....

Finger on The Eject Button

You are a broken person. Tragedy after tragedy has eaten away at you. You are tired, tired of the barren wasteland of this reality. I will leave the exact details up to you. You are helpless, scared, and just so, so tired.

You decide it's finally time. You've thought about it plenty, maybe for years. But something happens, and you break. This is the end.

You travel into the Cerulean Caves, somewhere deep and dark where you won't leave a mess for people to clean up. You sit, pulling out a small syringe full of dark liquid. Seviper venom. More then a lethal dose. You might get a stomach ache, but then you will slowly drift off. It's clean, near painless, and guaranteed. You spent what little money you had left on it.

You hesitate, a natural reaction, knowing what's to come. Your thumb slowly over the plunger, needle hovering over your skin. Your breath quickens. Your finger is on the button, you just need to give it a push.

Mewtwo watches you from a distance, at first completely unsure of what you are up to, travelling so deep into the cave, so late at night, with no Pokemon. It's a miracle you've made it here without any trouble.

His confusion only grows more as he sees you pull out the needle. At this point he is curious of the human who stumbled into his lair, seemingly obliviously. He peers into your mind to try and see just hat your doing here...

His stomach flips as he realizes what your about to do. He's not sure what he should do. He shouldn't care about you, your a single human. While he no longer harbors an all consuming grudge, a single human life is not something he would normally worry over.

But seeing you there, so vulnerable. So broken and damaged by the world that this is the only real option you see as being viable. It brings out some kind of new emotion in him. Something protective. You remind him of himself, on his darkest days. Cursing his existence. It's horrible. Something he wants nobody to go through, not even a random human.

He does the only thing he can think of, revealing himself, softly talking to you. 'Human. You seem like you could use someone to talk to.'

His surprise introduction, soft as it might have been, was enough to startle you. You gasp as he introduces himself. Kneeling down to meet you at eye level. After calming down, you talk for a while. He can't help but feel some sort of affinity to you. Two broken souls who's shards fit together to create something whole....

woah shit. I just sat down for 2 hours and just HAMMERED that one out. Sorry if it seems odd or angsty, I don't really care for "Mewtwo falls in love with his trainer" type of stories. Anyway, these are only some of the ideas I had. Like I mentioned before, I don't normally think on this topic, so it took me a minute.

"hi," you hum.

his hands raises to trail a finger underneath your earlobe and cup your cheek. you'd nuzzle into the touch, but you don't think you deserve to indulge in it.

"how're you feeling?"

an indiscriminate noise slips from between your lips. "better."

"'better' enough to eat?"

you frown. "no, you're not cooking. you just came from work—"

osamu shrugs. "i love cooking."

you ignore the pang of pain in your chest when he says that.

"i'm sure you're tired," you say, closing and opening your eyes to clear your blurry vision. slowly, you begin sitting up with the intent of getting out of bed, ignoring the way your head spins. your feet pat mindlessly at the floor beneath you in a poor effort to find your slippers.

"i'll make... something. some ramen."

as you lift yourself up, he grabs your wrist. "i'm cooking." you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off. "you had a bad day and i'm the professional chef. end of discussion."

you try to fight him on it, you really do, but he's faster and you're neck-deep in lethargy. in the time it takes you to stand, he's already out the door, giving you a two-finger salute with a cheeky smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

you hate how you make him worry.

somewhere along the way, you doze off again, your face half-pressed into the pillow with your limbs tangled in the comforter. the scent of something delicious trails in from the other side of the door, and your stomach growls.

a muffled 'dinner's ready!' rings out, and you groan, pressing the meat of your palms to your eyes before pulling yourself upright.

you trudge to the dining table, following your nose more than anything else, chasing the remnants of sleep with barely-closed eyes. the table's a quaint little thing with only four chairs, one of which has an uneven leg that keeps pattering against the floor, but right now, it looks better than any of the five-star restaurants osamu's ever dragged you to.

there's two plates set up. they don't match—one is decorated with simplistic flowers, and the other is a metal dish swiped from the restaurant—but you could care less. each is filled to the brim with warm, orange noodles, a cloud of steam rising from them with a smell that makes your mouth water.

and as you scoop the first forkful of food into your mouth, under osamu's watchful gaze, it's like color has returned to the grayscale of your mind. you sigh happily, letting the comfort of the meal wrap you tight, and then you let the cook do the same.

and for some time, everything's alright. you have your occasional lows, and osamu has his, but together, you're always able to figure things out.

you're always able to feel okay again.

that was the first time.

after that, those 'shitty days' become more and more frequent until they outnumber the 'not-shitty days'. more often than not, you're already tucked into bed by the time osamu comes home, an apology having been typed out and sent. half the time, you pretend to be asleep when the bed dips under osamu's weight and his hands massage your aching muscles. the other half, you at least make an attempt to greet him with a smile and ask about his day.

though the strength you have to maintain that latter half is waning.

it's on a saturday morning, when you're sitting on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, that everything starts boiling over.

"i just want you to talk to me."

you stay silent.

"i'm here for you, i swear. tell me what you need and i'll make it happen, i promise. just–"

you clear your throat and his rambling lapses into silence.

"i'm just... tired."

after a few beats, when it's clear that you're not going to elaborate without being prompted, he speaks. his voice is soft. delicate.

you hate how you make him worry.

"tired of what?"

you bite your lower lip as memories of late-night meals, all-encompassing hugs, coarse fingers wiping your tears away, all come flashing through your brain. you don't deserve it, any of it, you're sure of that.

you don't deserve him.

you chuckle mirthlessly, digging your fingers into your temples.

"isn't it obvious? i'm tired of being a burden."

he stills; you can feel it, the air shifting with way his jaw clenches and hands tighten into fists. he drops to his knees in front of you, tilting your head up from your chest so that you're making eye contact with him.

"are you serious?" he sounds almost angry. you avert your eyes from his. "you're not a fucking burden."

you scoff, getting off the bed and walking to the other side of it. out of the corner of your eye, you see osamu rising off his knees, expression unreadable.

"it's like talking to a brick wall," you say, throwing your hands in the air.

"where is this coming from?"

you spin on your heel, face burning. you're seething, breaths coming in harsh pants.

"'where is this'—what do you mean 'where is this coming from?' i'm like a fucking leech! all i do is suck the happiness out of your life, don't you see it?"

"no you don't," he replies curtly. "you don't—"

"yes i do!" you sound frenzied, almost manic at this point. why doesn't he get it? why doesn't he see that he could do so much better than some pathetic, fucked-up individual that has done nothing to deserve his affection? "i just keep holding you back."

"don't say that." he's made his way to you, cupping your face in his hands. his face is anguished, tears prickling at his lashline. "that's not true. please, don't say that."

you hate how you make him worry.

you exhale, closing your eyes for just a second, before opening them up again, a hardness in your stare that has him wincing. your voice is low and deliberate when you speak again.

"haven't you noticed that you cook more for me than you do for the restaurant? you drop the dinner shift almost every day just to make sure i eat, like i'm some kind of dependent child, because i can't fucking do it myself. i can't even bring myself to eat anymore and you're the one that's forced to pick up the pieces."

his brows furrow. "the restaurant is a job. you're my partner—"

"that's not the point," you hiss, tears now streaming down your heated cheeks. "that's not the fucking point."

"then what is?" he asks almost desperately. he can feel you slipping through his grasp, he can feel you spiraling down, down, down...

"i'm keeping you from doing what you love!"

your admission slices through the air.

osamu can barely think through your words—he's fucking pissed. pissed at himself for making you feel that way, pissed at you for convincing yourself of that, pissed at the whole fucking world.

he takes a shaky breath.

"...and what is it exactly that i love?"

"cooking, you asshole. cooking! you love the restaurant, and yet i'm the one that keeps you from it every fucking day!"

"are you serious?"

"yes i'm fucking serious! i'm like a ball and chain—"

"i love more things than just cooking!"

"like what? what is possibly worth you giving up your time and energy that you could be using for your dream—"

"i love you!"

a moment of quiet passes, then another, and another. you turn to osamu with incredulity written on your features.

"what?"

osamu swallows. "i love you."

you back away, hand quivering at your side.

"no. you don't get to pull that on me right now."

don't say that. don't stay with me any longer than you have to.

he walks towards you, voice strained as he tries to think of a way to fix this mess, to assure you that he'll always be here when you need him.

"i stay here because i love you, i take care of you because i love you, you have to understand that—"

his arms come to wrap you into a hug and you sob, a heart-wrenching noise that twists his internal organs into knots.

"you can't," you muster. "don't, god, don't fucking say that."

"why?" he's begging for some kind of explanation, for some way to heal your hurt and permanently dry your tears. "tell me why, please."

"'samu," you whisper into the air above his shoulder, knowing that this will change everything. "i don't want to be alive anymore."

he freezes, pulling away slightly to look at you. "shit."

you struggle for air as he runs his hands through his hair.

you hate how you make him worry.

"shit. have you—"

"no, i haven't attempted anything."

his eyes fly to yours in horror. "jesus fucking christ, that wasn't what i was gonna ask. have you talked to your doctor?"

"oh," your throat is dry. "no. not yet."

he nods silently—it's taking everything in him not to burst into tears.

"okay, let's do that first."

he moves to the bedside drawer, kneeling down to shuffle through the pile of documents and takeout menus stuffed in there.

"i know i have the info in here somewhere..." he mutters to himself.

"osamu," you whisper hoarsely.

he doesn't hear you.

"we'll get through this. you'll be okay."

"osamu," you say more forcefully.

he pauses, halting his movements.

“yeah?”

"there is no 'we' in this."

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he looks so heartbroken, so damaged—this is exactly what you wanted to avoid. "it's me and you. i'm gonna be here the whole time."

"i don't want you to."

you don't want him to be near when you inevitably burn up. you don't want his comforting embrace or his stupidly good food or his corny jokes, not when you know that you'll lose it all eventually.

"come on, don't say that. i love you."

you hate how you make him worry.

"i can't love you back." i want to, i want to so bad, but i can't. i'm so sorry. "i barely have it in me to love myself."

"i don't care about that. do you really think i'd care about that?"

"you deserve better."

"fuck what i deserve. you deserve better. you deserve the world. i can't give it to you but i can sure as hell try."

you take a shaky breath. "are you sure?"

his gaze unwavering, albeit watery. "never been surer."

"i'll just hold you back."

"you never do. you never will."

you bite back a sob. "it's just—everything is so hard. all the time."

he sniffles, cheeks wet. his voice cracks when he speaks. "then let me help."

"it won't be easy. for a long time, it's going to be really hard. i don’t know if i—"

"—i won’t let you do this alone. as long as i'm with you, i don't care if it’s hard."

"but—"

"—i'll always be here," he says firmly. "you're not getting rid of me."

you can't stop the grateful tears that gently cascade down your cheeks.

and sure, maybe you can't love osamu today. but there's always tomorrow. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after the day after tomorrow. you have time.

"i hate how i make you worry."

he smiles softly.

KAGEYAMA:

tobio isn’t the best with words.

he knew from the beginning of your guys’ relationship of what he was getting into, when you first mentioned the episodes you went through from time to time. he reassured that it was no problem at all, and that he still loves you for you.

the only thing he’s worried about is putting it into words about how much he cares about you, how much he wishes he could take the darkness away, how everything’s going to be okay. his chest feels heavy when he wakes up in the middle of the night to you tossing and turning, when he sees the permanent frown etched on your lips, when he can almost physically see the long-term rain cloud hovering over your head.

tobio isn’t the best with words, but he’s willing to try for you.

try is definitely the right word, as he’s sitting next to you on the couch of the apartment, looking like he’s about to throw up.

“what’s wrong tobio? you okay babe?” despite feeling the weight in your chest, you still held so much affection in your eyes for him. he felt himself melt into your gaze, his brain wracking for the right thing to say to you during a time like this.

“i- um,” he started. he grit his teeth in frustration. why was this so damn hard? and he’s not even the one who’s going through it.

“baby, you can talk to me-“

“i love you!” he blurted out. you blinked a couple times, a confused yet sweet smile creeping onto your face, “i love you too, tobi, but are you okay? you look a little pale.”

you reached up to cup his face, but he was faster, pulling your body into his chest as he cradled your head and waist gently but securely. yours eyes went wide with surprise, trying to pull away because you were beginning to worry you had done something wrong. you could tell he was struggling on what to say and why he was acting so weird.

“tobio, what the heck is going-“

“please, just-“ he let out a sigh, “just give me a minute.”

you were beyond confused at this point, but you listened anyway. the sound of his rapidly beating heart put you at ease, his strong arms wrapped around your body providing you with a sense of security. you both sat in silence for a few minutes before you heard him inhale shakily, “i want to be there for you.”

“what do you mean babe?” you reached up to comb your fingers through his soft, black locks.

the setter cleared his throat, “i mean that i want to help you. i want to know how to help you. because i hate seeing you so sad, it makes me sad. not that i’m trying to make you feel bad, because it’s okay if you’re sad! well it’s more than being sad but that’s okay too! i want to know how to comfort you and- oh god did i say something wrong?”

his eyes immediately filled with worry, feeling you shake slightly and feeling his shirt start to become damp from your tears. he pushed you back slightly, cupping your face so your gazes meet. as much as it broke his heart to see you in this state, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you look. he would never tell you that, thinking it might do more damage than good, but he wipes the tears away anyway.

you shake your head at his question, looking up at him with your teary gaze, “you don’t have to know how to comfort me, tobi. you do it in your own way.”

he felt like his heart was going to pop out of his chest, leaning forward to peck your lips, “i just have a horrible time with putting my thoughts into words. i want to be able to make you happy through the good and the bad days, especially the bad days.”

“you already do baby. i can see that you’re trying, even if you suck with words,” you poked his bottom lip as he pouted at your words, giggling to yourself when he gave you a playful scowl.

“whatever loser,” he flicked your forehead, causing you to scowl at him, “but thank you for letting me try, it’s a big step. i love you.”

“i love you too tobi. can we get something to eat now?”

reblogs are appreciated! <3

a/n: phewww~ i don't know how to feel posting and writing this, but it's kind of... I don't know, i wanted to write something more heartbreakingly, sentimental and i guess the only way i could externalize it was by writing comfortless angst with kazutora lmao, but, anyway, a kiss to whoever is going to read this 'cause I broke my heart writing it!

Everything was going to be all right. It was going to be okay.

You had to convince yourself that it was all right to be able to go on living, even though you didn't have the strength for it. You had to force yourself to believe that it was okay because if you started thinking again, your bed would seem too desirable and become the only comfortable place for you to spend the rest of the week, and again would come the gritty days when you could barely get out of bed.

Your brain didn't know whether to force you to be happy to be away from him or to force you to taste more of the bitter taste of knowing you were alone. In reality, you just wished your brain could explain to you a little better why you were happier now without his presence, without his warm hands pressing against the tight spots on your back, without his soft lips brushing against your cheek in little kisses when the day was good.

If you could go back in time, for the Y/N of almost three years ago, you would have written a long and tearful letter to your younger self warning her that she needed to be smarter, that she needed not to get carried away by Hanemiya Kazutora's charisma and angelic smile, that she needed not to let herself become vulnerable and miserable.

In reality, that letter was right there, on the desk in your room next to the food your mother had left long minutes before because it was lunchtime. And you were still lying face down on your bed with your cell phone in hands not knowing who to text, if you should text. Were your friends waiting for you after all the time you had spent away from them because of Kazutora? He said that they were trying to turn you against him. Did his friends still like you? Did they condemn his conduct? Mitsuya? Chifuyu? Takemichi? Manjiro? Oh, wait, not Manjiro. Manjiro and him had been fighting for a while and how could you forget that now just when Mikey had been the topic of discussion between you two in the relationship several times because Kazutora said you were too close to him.

You took a deep breath and checked the time on the cell phone. It was almost 2 o'clock in the afternoon, was lunch still worth it? To make your mother less worried, maybe it was. Thinking about it, you slowly picked up the pieces of the fragment that still existed in your heart as fast as you ate the cold pasta that was so well made.

— Darling? — Your ears picked up from the gaps in the locked door of your room and your body cringed, you didn't mean to answer, you weren't ready to leave your cocoon yet. — You... wanna talk? Today you didn't even come downstairs for breakfast and I had made your favorite thing to eat in the morning and... — You could almost hear your mother's brain thinking carefully about the words, the last time she said something wrong and at the wrong time you burst into tears in the middle of the room remembering Kazutora. — I was wondering if you didn't want to go out today, how about it? Get some ice cream? Maybe go to the park? — You sighed heavily.

Everyone was trying to move on. Kazutora Hanemiya was moving on without even knowing or apparently caring that he had made you miserable. You needed to move on too, at least try, even if the snake venom was still tearing your will to live.

— Okay, mom... — Your voice came out less thick than a lint. — I'll just get ready and be right out. — And you didn't see it, but a bright, wide smile appeared on her lips as her eyes watered a little.

— Okay, ‘kay! — At least you could feel the enthusiasm evident in her voice. — Gonna wait for you downstairs, when you're ready, I'm ready. — You knew what that meant.

And minutes later, you were walking down the sunny street next to your mother trying not to feel uncomfortable by the way people walking down the street were looking at you. Your clothes were heavy, visually speaking. You seemed to be the depressed, tangled point of trouble in the midst of several people with their lives on the reins. But none of them had ever had a relationship with Kazutora Hanemiya.

The Kazutora Hanemiya who yelled at you when he was angry that you talked too much to Manjiro or went out with your friends unannounced and also the one who hugged you and wiped your tears minutes later telling you that you "didn't have to cry" because he "was there for you" and that he "wasn't going to yell again, wasn't going to make you sad again" because he loved you. And yes, Kazutora might love you, but he loved to hang out with his friends and go several days without giving you a single reply by text message while demanding that you satisfy yourself about every place you stepped into, he loved much more to keep you away from your friends and to implant palaces of lies and simulations in your brain disguised as truths that weighed less than a feather.

That day, your mind tried not to think so much about him or wonder if he was all right, since the last time someone had said something to you about Kazutora, it had been Chifuyu saying that "Tora is getting through all this in the best possible way, don't worry, Y/N". Your mother tried to cheer you up with ice cream and by taking you to the park, and even though you wouldn't admit it, feeling the kisses of the sunbeams and the cool breeze against your face reminded you a little of the you that was much happier away from Hanemiya, the you of before Hanemiya.

When you two arrived home, it was the first time in a long time that you held your mother's hand in human warmth as you walked home, and she was even a little startled to feel something, which was your fingers, rubbing against her palm.

— What do you think about me ordering takeout today? — She asked, her eyes sparkling as soon as you both got home, and you just nodded. — At your favorite restaurant? — And then a small and sincere smile, extremely sincere, broke out on your lips.

— I'd love it, mom. — You answered, and it was the first time in weeks that she heard the normal tone of your voice without being whiny or tired or sultry.

The look you two exchanged before you went to take a shower was understood by both parties as a "Thank you”. It was the first time your day had broken out of the usual tearful monotony: waking up, trying to brush your teeth, feeling your energy being drained even further, looking in the mirror and seeing no one with any dignity to live for, facing your bed and spending the rest of the day lying there unable to find a sufficient reason to get up and go try to live because your life before was just Kazutora.

Until you came out of the shower and were in the middle of putting on your pajamas, cell phone vibrated on your bed and you desperately went to get it, thinking it was one of your friends. In fact, you wanted it to be one of your friends and answered it without even looking at the screen.

— Sweetie? — And that voice.

That voice that to you now was a great symphony of martyrdom and anguish, that reminded you of all the times he said that no one would ever love you as much as he did. Your heart sank into a black hole of nostalgia, and your eyes watered. Had all your effort to live away from Kazutora been in vain? Didn't you deserve to be happy?

You remained silent, still holding your cell phone to your ear. Kazutora's breathing was heavy, as if he was exerting himself, and from the sound of the engine in the distance on the other line, it was easy to tell that he was driving something. Probably his Benz.

— C'mon, Y/N, answer your Tora. — Your stomach clenched and you closed your mouth tight, hand trembling, but still holding the cell phone. — Was three weeks enough for you to forget how much I love you? — Oh, he was drunk.

Of course, he could only admit his love for you when he wasn't sober. As always.

— Don't call me again, Kazu-- — He interrupted you with a muffled laugh and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

— Do you know where I'm going? Home, alone again, because a girl I like, you should know her, left me and I... — Kazutora coughed from the other side and a loud noise startled you, damn it, he was driving home completely under the influence. — Don't you want to come visit me? It's been a while since I've hugged you, I miss you, you know? I fucking miss you, sweetie, and...

The call dropped. And you squeezed the cell phone trying to keep listening until you gasped.

— Kazutora? — You called him and there was no answer. — Damn it! — You squirmed quickly trying to get the most comfortable clothes to leave the house and get ready to go after Kazutora, you just couldn't let him fuck himself. — Mom, I'll be right back! — Your voice shouted into the kitchen as your feet rushed down the stairs and before your mother could answer, you were already opening the door to the house carrying only your cell phone and your broken heart and rushing out.

You weren't running because you were worried about him. You were running because you were scared to death. What if he was trying to hurt himself? You hated the idea of him getting hurt more than the idea of you getting hurt. Your breathing was racing the way it did when Kazutora kissed you intensely or when he looked at you as if he was about to choke you with his bare hands, heart was pounding against chest as if it was going to pierce your ribs. The smell of rain was in the air, suffocating the one of tears running down your face as you approached his house.

And it was the fastest trip you ever made to Kazutora's place, but not fast enough for the rain not to start falling as soon as you knocked several, several times on his door. You thought he hadn't arrived yet, or worse: crashed on the way, until you saw him with his long hair tied up in a bun, clothes reeking of booze and eyes with dilated pupils opening that doorway.

As soon as he tried to lean in for a hug, you took three steps back, the rain beginning to wash over you.

— You came... — Kazutora spoke and a small smile crept across his lips and your frown creased.

And then you understood.

Kazutora called you because he knew you would go after him, knew you couldn't ignore him.

— Kazutora... — Your shaky voice came out barely louder than a whisper and your heart was aching to see him again, your hands were trembling and for the first time you were glad that the rain was masking your tears. — Fuck... Fuck! Kazutora! What the fuck, why you... fuck, leave me alone! I can't take it anymore! — All your anger that had built up for months was now being unleashed. — What the fuck do you want with me?! You know how fucking hard these days have been for me? — He looked at you surprised to see his previously sweet girl behaving this way, didn't you love him anymore?

— Y/N... I called you because I missed you! — Kazutora took two steps forward, walking out of his house and leaving the door open, and started to get wet in the rain the same way you did. — I wanted to see you again! You wouldn't take my calls, wouldn't even tell Chifuyu how you were, damn it! If you can't take it anymore, how about me? You're being too cruel to me. — Your breath caught in your throat.

Too cruel. To him.

He was really thinking that you were to blame for everything, that you were the villain of it all.

— I... — You started to speak, and your brain couldn't think straight. — Kazutora, I would never be cruel to you. Never. You know why? Because I loved you more than I loved myself, and you seem to have forgotten that as fast as you could get me away from everybody else. I loved you. You know, I loved you so much that not even after you treated me like shit did I say anything bad to anyone. You were my everything! You know that! — Now the tears could no longer be contained within your eyes.

— You talk as if I never did anything for you, Y/N. Don'tchu see how ungrateful you are being to me? — Kazutora tried to take your arms to bring you closer to him and you slapped his hands away, cringing against yourself because of the cold that was beginning to take over your body from the rain. — I treated you like a queen ‘cause that's what you were to me, I tried to keep you away from your friends ‘cause they were always trying to take advantage of you and-- — You interrupted him.

— Take advantage of me? Look at the shitty thing you're talking! They tried to warn me several times about you and I was stupid enough to trust you! — Your hands went to rub your eyes to try to stop yourself from crying. — Don't make me try to feel bad, Tora. I could try to write down all the times you've treated me well... and in the end it would just be an empty piece of paper... — A bitter laugh came out of your lips. — I... damn... — Your eyes burned with tears and you hated yourself for letting yourself cry again in front of that man. — What the fuck is your problem, Tora? — Kazutora tried again to approach you, and you pulled away again with hands in front of your body to try to keep him away. — I didn't want to be just another stop on your journey, I wanted to be your final destination. I gave you everything, my time, my loyalty, my happiness, if you asked for even my soul and my heart on a plate I would give them to you without a second thought, damn it, you know that. You know!

— Y/N... — He called you again and now, from his choked voice, it was obvious that he was starting to cry.

Crocodile tears, and yet your heart couldn't help but feel bad for making him cry for you.

— Don't say anything. I didn't finish speaking. — You spat the words in his direction. — The only one to blame here is you, Kazutora. You ruined everything that was good for me, for us, and every fucking time someone tried to tell me something bad about you, I told them that they misunderstood you. I tried to convince others that you were a nice guy, a nice boyfriend. — You took a deep breath, feeling your ribs suddenly ache. As if your psychological pain was somatizing your body. — Just fucking leave me alone... leave me alone, don't call me, don't try to talk to me, don't come after me, stop using Chifuyu to get at me... I'm tired, Tora. Tired.

Sanzu Haruchiyo

“Sanzu…” you pause, the words getting stuck in your throat, “I don’t like… anything about me.”

“Huh-“ Perhaps this wasn’t a good time to unload this on him. It was barely 8am and you honestly just wanted to get a snack from the shared kitchen. Sanzu’s unfocused eyes blinked owlishly at you, having just snorted a line of cocaine. It looked like he was trying to process your words, too bad the drugs are probably the only thing on his mind right now.

You don’t know why you bothered, perhaps you thought that he might have something earth-shattering to say. Something to give you an epiphany. Guess not.

Anything else he had to say was lost because by the time he lifted his head after snorting another line, you’d already left.

Haitani Ran

Entering the executive meeting room after leaving the kitchen, you see Ran already in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He looks you over. “You ok? You look… rough. The guy last night couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He laughs easily.

You look at him numbly, before mumbling out “I don’t… like anything about me, Ran.” Somehow the words are a bit easier to say now.

After a prolonged silence, Ran finally barks out a laugh. “Was he really so bad that it made you hate yourself? HA. If you need a good time I’m always here, you know?” A cocky smile adorns his face.

You turn away. He isn’t gonna take you seriously. “Haha, right of course.” You think you’re gonna be sick. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

And before he could say anything more, you’d already left.

Haitani Rindou

The sounds of you throwing up must have been very loud, seeing how the door of the handicap bathroom was just thrown open by Rindou. “Who the FUCK- oh it’s you.”

You groan, getting up to flush the toilet and wash your face in the tiny sink. Rindou silently watches you splash water on your face more times than necessary.

“Rindou,” you start. Should you bother? No he’s probably gonna say something dumb like the other two. But what if he doesn’t? “I don’t like anything about me.” It gets easier every time you say it, almost like you’re starting to realise it yourself.

You can see him staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. His stoic face gives nothing away. Maybe this time-

“Are you pregnant?” You don’t know if you want to cry or punch the mirror till your knuckles bleed. Both probably. Instead, you choke out a strained “what?”

Rindou shifts in his spot at the door, “You’re being uncharacteristically emotional, and you just threw up. It’s a fair question, I think.”

You sigh, it’s not a slight at you, he’s just blunt. “No I’m not.” you reply dimly as you push past him.

And before he could question you further, you’d already left.

Kokonoi Hajime

You feel more exhausted in the past hour than you’ve ever felt in months. The emptiness in your chest only seemed to grow the more you try to speak to people. You ponder simply finding a corner to curl up in forever.

Letting your feet take you where they feel like, you find yourself standing right by Koko’s office. You can see him in his office looking over some paperwork, handling Bonten’s financial matters no doubt. You observe him, watching his face, his posture, you see him mumbling some words but you can’t make out what they are. Even in perceived solitude, he shows no signs of the emptiness that you feel.

Thinking back to the others, none of them seemed to have understood your words. Perhaps it was just you. Yea, that’s probably it. There was no point in telling them, because they won’t get it. Well, except maybe one person. You wonder where he was.

Lost in thought, you failed to notice that Koko had gotten up from his seat to invite you in. But before he could even open his office door fully, you’d already left.

Sano Manjiro

After wandering for a bit, you finally find Mikey at the rooftop of the building. He sat on the edge, overlooking the city.

“It’s beautiful up here isn’t it.” You’re surprised he spoke first. “Mhm.” you hummed in reply, not knowing what else to say.

“What is it?” Mikey began again, “you look like you wanna say something.” He turned to look at your bewildered face.

“Even came all the way up here. So just say it.” he continued. You thought about it, of all the members maybe he could understand your numbness.

“… Mikey, I-“ you swallowed, the words becoming hard to say again. You turn your head away. “I don’t… like… anything about me.”

The silence that ensues makes you nervous, maybe you shouldn’t have said anything to Mikey. He was your boss after all. But when you turn to face Mikey to gauge his reaction, all you see reflected in his eyes was the same emptiness you felt. You feel a twisted sense of comfort in them.

He understands.

“Shall I put you out of your misery, then?”

“And who will put you out of yours?”

“Don’t worry, I have that covered already.” He responds cooly, like he actually had a plan.

Somehow you still manage a chuckle, turning to face the skyline again. After a while, Mikey presses, “Well, how about it?”

You can’t find it in yourself to turn down his offer, and for the first time in months, you smile a genuine smile.

However as you close your eyes, you suddenly picture Koko. You never did hear what he had to say, never even given him a chance. Maybe he could have said something to save you. You feel the cold metal of Mikey’s gun press against your temple.